by Allie Parker
‘I did once. After dad died I broke down. I was so drained from making sure everyone else was okay that I didn’t look after myself. But I don’t think that’s ever going to happen again, I’m too good at keeping those boys in line now.’ Grace smiled. ‘I know I can be a bit controlling sometimes but they know it comes from a good place. Plus it makes me a damn good PR consultant.’
Making sure no one else was listening, Meg confided in Grace. ‘When I saw Patrick today, it felt like my heart was going to come right out of my chest. I’ve had panic attacks before so I’m really glad I controlled things long enough so I didn’t lose it in front of him. I couldn’t bear for him to see me fall apart. I wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he means that much to me. Used to mean that much to me,’ she corrected.
Grace held her tongue instead of asking Meg if she still had feelings for her ex-partner. On the one hand, Grace wanted to look out for her brother’s heart. But on the other hand, she didn’t want to put any pressure on Meg to analyse what would have been a pretty emotionally turbulent day already. Grace felt the fact that Meg had agreed without hesitation to stay at Byron’s was a good sign.
‘Well, I’m glad you stayed strong. You’ll need to remain in control if he contacts you again,’ Grace said gently. She saw a childlike innocence pass over Meg’s face, with a hint of fear and alarm, suggesting to Grace that the thought had not crossed Meg’s mind. Which put Grace’s mind at ease that Meg didn’t wish for another encounter with her ex. Grace changed the subject and soon had Meg laughing again.
Simon gave Avery a ride home and Grace said her good-bye’s as well. Boof was snoring next to the heater in the lounge room when Byron found Meg on the couch watching him.
‘At last, I’ve been waiting to kiss you all night.’ Byron sat next to Meg and pulled her close into a long, warm embrace, their kiss light but full of promise. ‘That’s better.’
‘Thank you for tonight.’ Meg was looking forward to playing house for a few days. Since Patrick seemed to have been keeping an eye on her, staying with Byron was less terrifying than rattling around in her house alone. She obviously didn’t know Patrick like she thought she had, the person he had turned into, or what he was capable of.
She did wish Avery had grabbed the jar of choc-hazelnut spread when she picked up her clothes though. She could do with a spoonful of creamy comfort. But then Byron started massaging her feet, and Meg soon forgot about Patrick, her home and sweet delights.
Byron woke up early with an unsettled feeling in his chest. It took him a moment to remember the events of the last few days. But just as the anxiety threatened to settle in, Meg stirred beside him. In an instant his mind cleared, his chest lightened, and he smiled as Meg rearranged the covers in her sleep and snuggled closer to him. His brother was right, Byron would protect Meg and she would be safe, he’d make certain of it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
In the morning, Meg decided to go home and pack a few more cloths and retrieve the external hard drive which held all of her recent images, in case Byron needed to use any for last minute changes to Madden brochures or website. As she got some clothes from the dryer, Byron, who had insisted on going with her, was the one who noticed the cracked window in the laundry.
‘Meg,’ he said calmly. ‘I don’t want you to panic, but that window wasn’t cracked before, was it?’ Byron grabbed Meg’s hand so she wouldn’t walk any further into the room and potentially contaminate what he now suspected was a crime scene. They slowly made their way upstairs, with Byron leading.
‘Fuck, Byron, he’s been here,’ Meg whispered.
‘We don’t know that. It might have just been a ball from the neighbour’s yard.’
‘Yes we do, look at my computer. It’s unplugged and pulled out from under the desk.’
‘Ok, let’s call the police. This could help clear your name once and for all.’ Byron called the police and then called Nigel. His lawyer gave him some sound advice and offered his assistance.
Because of the nature of the money laundering investigation, the police bought a digital forensic scientist to examine Meg’s computer and see if it was worth taking to the station as evidence. After the system was examined for fingerprints, Meg signed a waiver to let the police search her computer and then gave her statement. She was then escorted around the house to look for anything else missing, new or out of place. Byron rang Simon and briefly filled him in, asking him to look for anything suspicious at the studio.
‘What’ve we got, Steve?’ The detective asked the specialist once he’d determined that nothing else in the house had been tampered with.
‘Did you say she was at the station between 1600 and 1800 yesterday afternoon?’ Steve asked the detective.
‘Yes.’
As Meg was trying hard not to tremble, Byron noticed Steve relaxed slightly at the confirmation from the detective. He looked almost apologetic as he continued.
‘‘Do the file names Light Adjustment Filter_PH and Contrast Adjustment Filter_PH mean anything to you,’ Steve asked Meg.
Byron didn’t think it was possible for Meg to grow paler than she already was. As it turned out, she could go white as a sheet.
Meg stared at the recording device the detective held in front of her, recording all of her responses. She tried to be as calm and precise as her voice, trembling with emotion and adrenaline, would allow her. ‘When Patrick Heathcliff used my computer for his photography work, he would differentiate some of his programs and files from mine with the initials PH at the end of the titles. I always thought it was a bit pedantic given that they were just basic files and he didn’t do it with all of them.’
‘Is there anything special about these two in particular, in your opinion?’
‘They look the same as the others he wiped from the computer. I assumed they were basic light and contract adjustment filters, as the names suggest. I like to use my own filters, so I’ve never opened these.’
‘But you have seen these files before?’
‘I came across them by accident awhile ago and deleted them without opening them, can you tell that,’ Meg asked Steve anxiously. She didn’t want to accidently incriminate herself in anyway. ‘As I’ve told you before, when Patrick left, he wiped all of his files and documents from my computer. So I got a shock when I came across these. I didn’t think they’d be relevant to the case, I just thought they were filters.’ Byron could see that Meg was starting to panic.
‘Let’s get the computer back to the station for full analysis, Steve. These files weren’t there when we searched the computer the first time.’ The detective glanced at Byron and back to Meg. ‘I’m sorry, but you can’t use this system again until we’ve cleared it.’ The detective turned off his recorder and got ready to leave.
Meg watched the detectives pack up her computer, external hard drive and memory cards from her desk. What was left of her life, what Patrick hadn’t already tarnished, was being packed into static-resistant bags and carried out of her house. As she looked around, her house felt tainted, like it had changed since yesterday. Not that she had found anything out of place, but its energy was different somehow.
Byron guarded Meg like a shield. He held her close as they left the house and deposited her into the front seat of his car. He had received a text from Simon saying that the studio was all clear. When they arrived, Byron fielded questions from Simon and Avery, who Simon had contacted to help reassure Meg. While Avery and Meg made a cup of tea, Byron rang Grace, who had been working with Nigel since that morning, digging up as much as they could on the case against Patrick Heathcliff. Byron filled them in on the files the police had found and the assumption that this wasn’t the first time Heathcliff had accessed Meg’s computer since his disappearance. Though Byron didn’t think Meg had picked up on the detective’s comment, he was sure that’s what he was getting at by saying the files weren’t there the first time the police had searched her computer. The thought made him shudder. Byro
n believed wholeheartedly Meg was innocent of any involvement with the money laundering case, but he wasn’t convinced the detective shared his view. And if Heathcliff was using Meg’s computer as and when he liked, he could be incriminating her. Whether he meant to or not remained to be seen. Why the hell didn’t he just take the damned thing in the first place? Or destroy it? Why was he trying to access it unnoticed?
Grace’s parting words stuck with Byron after he hung up the phone.
‘Byron, I know you’re worried about Meg and that you want to protect her. But don’t scare her anymore than she already is. Put her at ease and try and take her mind off all of this for awhile. I know it’s hard, but act normal. As soon as we finish the Madden job, you can take it easy and lay low, but in the meantime, use the looming deadline as a distraction.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The following week, doing her best to remain focused, Meg was supervising Flynn as he installed the first of many photographs being hung in the penthouse of the building. Flynn had very definitive ideas on where the images should be hung. He had met with Meg the week before to go through frame samples which would complement the painted walls as well as the other surfaces in each room.
Meg welcomed the opportunity to bounce ideas off a new sounding board and gain a different point of view. She found talking to Flynn was like talking to an extension of James Madden himself. Flynn was so far into every aspect of the project it was like he was inside James’ mind. Meg wondered what job Flynn had lined up next after such an intense project. But before she had the chance to ask, Flynn bought up something that had been tumbling around in his mind for days.
Flynn wasn’t aware of the issues already weighing heavily on Meg’s mind, otherwise he may not have mentioned what he had found out about Avery’s painting. ‘Meg, can I ask you something?’ He climbed down off the ladder and wiped imaginary dust from his hands on his jeans.
‘Of course.’ Meg was expecting a question about her images, but when she looked up from her site plans and made eye contact with Flynn, she felt this was going to be a subject a bit closer to his heart.
‘Did you know that one of Avery’s paintings, hanging in a hotel in town, was defaced not long ago?’ Flynn wasn’t sure if Avery had shared the news with her friend but he was sure it wasn’t a secret. ‘The hotel wasn’t much help with the identity or the motivation behind the incident, just wanted to get the replacement and be done with it. But I was curious as to the how and why, it seemed quite targeted to me.’
Meg was intrigued. She had known about the painting but Avery’s description of what had happened didn’t hint of suspicion or foul play. Flynn obviously had other ideas.
‘When Avery told me about the text she received telling her to stop working on the murals or more paintings would get destroyed, I knew there was something up.’ Flynn had a sudden flash back to the night Avery got drunk with him and let it slip. He would always remember every detail of that night.
‘You mean it was a targeted attack on Avery?’ Avery hadn’t told Meg about a text message.
‘With the help of an acquaintance of mine in security, I’ve managed to get in contact with a known juvenile offender. He has a very distinct style of graffiti if you know what to look for. I’m not interested in going to the police with this information, so I used it to work some information out of the young punk. The kid was approached and paid to deface the painting. The woman who hired him gave him a photo of the painting, told him how to find it and even explained where the security cameras were in the hotel so that he couldn’t be identified.’
‘But why?’ Meg was stunned.
‘With a little bit of gentle persuasion, the kid told me what the lady looked like. Apparently the only distinguishing features he could remember were a logo on her jacket and an unusual necklace,’ Flynn explained. ‘I’ve got a picture of the logo here.’ Flynn fished his phone out of his pocket and showed Meg the image on the screen. ‘I was wondering if you’ve seen it before. I just can’t place it.’
‘Oh my god.’ It took Meg a moment to realise where she’d seen the logo before, as it dawned on her she looked up at Flynn. ‘I know what this is. Are you going to the police?’
‘I’m just going to make some more enquiries, join a few more dots. I don’t want to action anything until I’ve spoken to Avery, and I don’t want to talk to Avery until I’ve got all the facts.’
‘So Avery doesn’t know you’ve been looking into this?’ Meg was beginning to see why this was so important to Flynn. She was touched by his concern. ‘Ok, but, I’m coming with you. I’ve got to see this for myself.’ Meg was troubled but also relieved to have a distraction from her own concerns. She also wanted the opportunity to do something for Avery in return for the support and friendship she had given her so unconditionally.
As Avery was washing her touch-up brush in the sink, she saw Flynn and Meg leaving the building together. She assumed they were collecting another framed photo from Meg’s car ready to hang. As Avery went to the door to see if she could help, she saw Flynn was holding his car door open and talking intently as Meg climbed in. Flynn closed the door and got into the driver’s side. They didn’t see Avery as they drove out of the car park. At first Avery didn’t recognise the twinge of jealousy that bit her stomach. But once she did, she dismissed the feeling and decided that they were just going to collect some more picture hooks or something. Avery felt silly, like a teenager getting all territorial over a boy. She smiled to herself and shook her head while going back inside, waiting for the thought to fade.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Simon had had a big night out again and was on his way home when the sun attempted to rise from behind the still, green hills around him. His efforts to move on from or forget Belle were pointless he knew, but he had to do something to quiet the dialogue going on in his mind. The sun was met with a thick fog and bitter frost, following the unusually cold spring night. The tranquil sight pulled Simon from the guilt and remorse that swamped him upon leaving what’s-her-name’s house half an hour before. The fog was cradled in the valley below him, keeping a thick layer of frost on the paddocks and surrounding scrub. On a split second decision, Simon pulled the car over into a clearing and shut off the engine, descending into silence. He cradled the coffee he’d bought at a bakery he’d noticed opening as he made the unfamiliar journey home.
It didn’t take long before the cold began to seep back into the car. Simon pulled his collar up and stretched back against his seat. He watched as the sun’s rays emerged from the hills and, from a point on the opposite side of the valley, slowly started making its way across the landscape back towards the sun as it lifted. The mist swayed and crept under the suns watchful gaze.
Completely wrapped in the beauty around him, Simon suddenly became aware of a feeling deep in his stomach, like a nervousness, a sense of foreboding. At first he thought it was the coffee in his empty, hung-over stomach. He couldn’t quite grasp the feeling, but it was like he was on the verge of something significant. Like something in his life was about to change, like the sun was changing the fields around him. He wondered for a moment whether this event was going to be caused by him, or done to him. Was this moment, surrounded by natural splendour, a turning point of sorts? A signal to move in a direction unknown and unexplored?
Simon brought the coffee cup to his mouth only to discover it was now empty. He also realised the sun had pulled back the remainder of the frosty blanket, to reveal a thriving landscape beneath. He started the engine, pumped up the heat and started to thaw his hands and feet. He was about to dismiss the sudden sense of enlightenment when he stopped himself. Was this it for him? Business was going well; they had plenty of work to go on with once the Madden job was finished. Byron and Meg seemed happy, not that there was anything Simon could do if they weren’t, but it was just nice to see Byron content. Grace was Grace, she fussed over them without realising they did the same for her, which was the way they all liked it.
Simon purposely didn’t include Bella in his mental inventory stock take. If he stopped to think about it, he would realise that spoke volumes about where his head was at. He did admit he was tired of the one night stands and short affairs. His parents had shown him firsthand how much more there was to meaningful relationships. Life partnerships.
As he pulled away from the curb and back onto the road, Simon didn’t know how he was going to change his life, but the fact that he’d had this strange and unexpected epiphany was a good beginning. And for a start, he decided to make a conscious effort to treat the women he indulged in better.
Visiting the Madden building that afternoon, Simon spotted Avery sitting with her back to the wall opposite one of her finished murals. She looked peaceful and relaxed; a true reflection of the painting she was looking at.
‘Does it look the way you’d imagined it in your head three months ago?’ Simon strolled over with his hands in his pockets.
‘Every detail.’ Avery smiled up at Simon. ‘Except for the little addition I add to most paintings at the very end.’
‘Which is?’ Simon turned his attention to the giant landscape before them.
‘At the completion of a project that has consumed my every waking hour, I like to add something that I didn’t see before the picture was absolute. It may be as simple as a flower or a cloud, but I like the idea of stepping outside my image of perfection and letting the painting talk to me and tell me what else it needs. Also it feels a bit naughty, adding an impulsive element to a thoroughly thought through idea and throwing caution to the wind.’
Simon gazed back at Avery for a moment, amused by the undiluted emotions she wore with her thermal leggings and paint-splatter t-shirt. ‘Avery, you seem one hundred percent content with your life. Are you truly happy with who you are and what you’re achieving?’
