I raised an eyebrow. ‘You google vegetation? Man, you must have less of a life than me.’
‘What can I say? I like to know stuff. For example, most of the trees round here are exotic species planted by a very homesick Sir Joseph Bancroft, who this park was named after, to remind him of his property Kelvin Grove, back in Scotland.’ He sat forward abruptly, a laugh bursting out of him. ‘Hey, check out your dog. I think he might have a thing for Miss Cocoapuff.’
I glanced over and immediately wished that I hadn’t. Herc was disgracing himself with the brown poodle, a grin plastered all over his face.
‘Naughty boy!’ An old woman rose from the picnic table, shaking a fist at him. ‘You stop that, this instant!’
‘Don’t worry, Nance,’ called out one of the men at the table as she hurried across the park. ‘It’s just wishful thinking on his part. I can see from here that there’s no money in his coin purse!’
Al joined in the laughter, while I groaned and covered my face.
By the time the old lady reached them, Herc had quit his Elvis impersonations, but his full-frontal pose wasn’t leaving much to the imagination.
‘Dear me, you wouldn’t want that as a wart over your eye,’ she said, snapping a rhinestone-encrusted lead onto her poodle. ‘Miss Cocoapuff, avert your eyes.’
I was finding it hard not to stare myself. She and her poodle were dripping with more bling than a pair of Gold Coast socialites.
‘Can’t blame him for trying, Nance,’ Al said. ‘Miss Cocoapuff is a fine-looking dog.’
‘Isn’t she?’ The old lady beamed, bending down to mash her dog’s permed head between knotty, bejewelled fingers. ‘You’re a naughty boy, Alexander Armitage,’ she said reprovingly. ‘You haven’t introduced me to your new friend. We like to meet all the visitors to our dog park, don’t we, Miss Cocoapuff?’
The little dog yipped happily.
‘Sorry, Nance,’ said Al. ‘This is Kat.’
I wiggled my fingers and smiled, not sure whether I should be calling such an old person by her first name.
‘And the public embarrassment about to goose you –’ he pointed politely behind her ‘– is Hercules.’
She spun round and instead of rousing on him, ruffled his chops, cooing a lot of admiring nonsense.
Dog people. They were a whole new experience for me.
Al leaned forward, his forehead creasing in thought. ‘Nance, have you heard anything about a prowler working this neighbourhood? Or any recent break-ins?’
She straightened and brushed at her hands with an embroidered white hankie. ‘Well, Bill would be the person to ask. Though there was that awful business at the school on the corner.’
My ears pricked up. That was my old primary school, St Frances de Sale. It was close to my house and just up the road from the dog park.
‘On the last day of term, someone waltzed into the staffroom, bold as brass, and pinched half-a-dozen wallets. Caused quite a kerfuffle. Some of the teachers, poor things, were all cashed up for the holidays.’
Al nudged me. ‘Bet it’s the same bloke.’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘I didn’t get the feeling he was after my purse.’ The memory of his hand reefing back my covers flared in my mind and I wrapped my arms round my knees to control the shudder.
‘I don’t blame you for being creeped out,’ Al said. ‘I would be too.’ He turned back to Nance to explain. ‘There was a prowler at Kat’s place last night.’
She cluck-clucked, twisting her rings, offering sympathy and a whole lot of advice about locking up after dark. ‘I bet he got the shock of his life when he found someone at home,’ she added.
‘I wish. The fingerprinting guy said that it probably gave him a thrill. Apparently sneak thieves love it when someone’s in the house.’
‘I’d give him a thrill with the pointy end of my umbrella,’ she said, with a sniff. ‘That’d teach him. Wouldn’t it, Miss Cocoapuff?’
The poodle yipped twice, clearly used to being included in her owner’s conversations.
‘I think I’d feel safer with my dad’s cricket bat,’ I said. ‘That bad boy’s sleeping in my bed tonight.’
Al studied me for a moment. ‘Listen, if you’re really freaked out, I’ve got an idea. Mum has just installed a new security system and there are some spare Dangerous Dog stickers floating around at home.’
‘I don’t think we can afford a security alarm.’ I hesitated. ‘And Herc isn’t exactly what you’d call vicious.’ Stretched out on the grass like a lumpy dog-skin rug, Herc looked like he barely had a pulse.
‘Doesn’t make any difference, dear,’ Nance said firmly. ‘Put a big warning out front and some stickers on the windows and it’ll scare the pants off any burglar. He’ll think he’s about to set off an alarm or get his head bitten off by Cerberus, the three-headed guardian of the Underworld.’
Al shrugged. ‘It’s worth a shot. I could duck home and get them, if you want.’
‘No, that’s too much of a hassle –’
‘Nah, I live right there.’ He pointed at a terracotta-coloured house with bright red geraniums growing through the security grilles on the windows. ‘I’ll be back in a flash.’ He bounced to his feet and jogged off before I could argue, leaving me with Nance and her well-meaning security tips.
‘Now, dear, make sure you leave the outside lights on at night, so no-one can sneak up on you in the dark.’ She started numbering the points off on her fingers. ‘Lock all your doors and windows before you go to bed, keep a phone by your bedside so you can phone triple 0 –’
I nodded, only half-listening as she rattled off her list, and watched Al lope across the street. He had the long stride and easy running rhythm of an athlete.
A cold nose slid up my leg. I shrieked and swatted at the Jack Russell that Al had warned me about. He made a determined beeline for my crotch, and when I shifted out of his way, immediately transferred his interest to the back of my cut-offs.
‘What’s going on here?’ a voice rumbled behind me. ‘You running a Neighbourhood Watch meeting without me, Nance?’
I tried to push the Jack Russell’s insistent nose off me, but that only seemed to encourage him. The dog was up on his hind legs, embarrassing us both.
‘Just the man we should talk to,’ Nance said. ‘Bill, meet Kat and Hercules. They’ve had a prowler.’ She placed her ring-encrusted fingers on my arm. ‘Kat, this is Bill, Napoleon’s Dad.’
When I was finally able to shoo the little dog away, I turned, unprepared for the sight ahead.
Staring down at me was a pair of eyes that didn’t miss a trick.
Napoleon’s dad, Bill, was the watch sergeant from last night.
Eleven
I couldn’t control the guilty flinch.
Like father, like daughter. Every time a cop car appeared, Jimmy would flinch. He’d automatically check the speedo, the mirrors, and then the blinkers to see if he was driving too fast, tailgating, or committing some other moving violation.
‘Why do they always make you feel as if you’ve done something wrong?’ he’d mutter, eyes flitting from rearview to side mirrors. ‘Even if you haven’t.’
This time though, I had. I couldn’t plead innocence.
I’d lied to this man, this police officer. And now it looked like I was going to get caught out. Damn. I should have known better than to spill my guts to a stranger. Even one as cute and sympathetic as Al.
These dog park people were way too friendly for my liking, too close for comfort. I had to cover my tracks. The last thing I needed was for news of Jimmy’s regular absences to spread through the neighbourhood and end up on a police file.
‘Hello, Katharine,’ said Bill. ‘You’ve been quick off the mark.’ He boosted his little dog up onto the bench, then bent down to rub at the wrinkled skin around Herc’s head
. ‘Didn’t take you long to install the new alarm system that I talked to your dad about.’
‘Oh, you two know each other.’ Nance cuffed Bill lightly on the arm. ‘That’s why you were up to the wee small hours last night. I should have realised.’
‘Herc’s a pretty crappy alarm system,’ I said, trying to distract them while I racked my brains. Did I say anything about Jimmy working nights? I can’t risk that piece of intelligence being passed on . . . ‘I haven’t even heard him bark yet.’
Bill straightened, and Herc took that as his cue to flip onto his back, legs splayed out around him. That idiot dog really did roll over for anyone.
‘With all that bulldog in the mix, he may not be much of a barker,’ he said, massaging Herc’s speckled gut with one foot.
Bill was a different person, out of uniform. Sun-browned legs and feet in shorts and thongs, an oversized polo shirt camouflaging his gut. But for the pouches under his eyes, he seemed relaxed, a faded blue leash hanging from one hand, the other scratching behind his little dog’s ears.
‘You better watch out, Bill,’ warned Nance. ‘Napoleon is giving Hercules the hairy eyeball. I don’t think he likes you playing footsies with another dog.’
‘Napoleon’s okay as long as he’s occupying the high ground.’ Bill winked at me. ‘He only gets the Norman Bates glint in his eye if he thinks other dogs are trying to lord it over him.’
I’d seen Psycho, the Alfred Hitchcock thriller, with Jimmy, so I knew what he meant.
‘The poor little fella suffers from Short Man’s Complex,’ he explained. ‘That’s why we named him Napoleon. Wants to dominate the world to make up for his lack of size.’
‘Well, he won’t have to worry about Herc lording it over him,’ I said, keeping the conversation away from more dangerous territory. ‘He spends most of his time on his back.’
Bill cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. ‘He could look pretty intimidating if he wanted to, though . . . that might be enough to make people think twice.’ He eyed me speculatively. ‘So where’d you get him at such short notice?’
I shrugged, trying to mask the tension knotting my gut. ‘He’s not really mine. Our next-door neighbour got him this morning from some guy who was moving overseas. I’m kind of looking after him.’
‘Edie from next door?’ He swung his arms, miming a big hit. ‘She’s a good one to have on your team.’
I froze. If he knew her too, that was another base I would have to cover. She definitely couldn’t be trusted to keep my secrets.
Luckily, Al chose that moment to jog up to the gate, opening it like an escape hatch.
‘Uh, I gotta go.’ I grabbed Herc’s lead off the ground and snapped it back onto his collar. ‘Nice seeing you again. Come on, Herc, race you to Al.’
Bill moved forward, as if about to say something, but Herc cut him off with a full-body shake that flung thick ropes of saliva in every direction.
Nance shrieked and stumbled back a couple of paces. Bill caught her gently under the elbow and pulled her safely out of the splatter zone, clearing a pathway to Al.
‘See you,’ I yelled over my shoulder as I took off across the park. Herc bounded beside me, a new dog after his catnap. Hopefully it would last till we got clear of the park.
Al’s red setter, Sequoia, romped up alongside us, nearly causing a two-canine collision. I squealed and she veered off, galloping on ahead to meet Al at the fence.
‘Whoa, now that’s what I call a welcoming committee.’ Al pushed open the second of the double gates and pounded the big beast’s ribcage. ‘And I’ve only been gone a few minutes.’
‘Listen, if you’re not doing anything –’ I hesitated, a bit breathless from the sprint. Clearly, Herc wasn’t the only one who needed more exercise. I didn’t want to sound pushy or, worse, desperate, but I needed to keep Al away from Bill till I had the chance to talk to him properly. ‘Uh, do you reckon you could give me a hand putting up these things?’
He looked down at the stickers and Dangerous Dog sign he was carrying. Probably wondering exactly how unco I must be if I needed outside help with a job that simple.
My smile was so rusty it creaked, and it probably looked more dimwitted than encouraging, but it was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment. I needed Al on my side; but if I wanted him to keep my secrets, I’d have to explain why, and I really didn’t want to do that up-wind of a dog park that contained the old Bill.
He shrugged, good-naturedly. ‘Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing else on. And it’ll give Herc and Sequoia a chance to get to know each other a bit better.’
The plan hit a snag as soon as I pushed open the front gate. Jimmy was up, and waiting for me on the front steps. No way could I talk to Al with him sitting there.
‘Hullo.’ His eyes lit on Herc. ‘Look what the Kat’s dragged in.’
Like he could talk. Jimmy looked like a homeless person who had been dragged backwards through a St Vinnie de Paul’s rummage sale and then dumped on our front steps.
He was still in his pyjama shorts at five-thirty in the afternoon, and his old Born to Play, Forced to Work t-shirt had more holes in it than the Victoria Park golf course. His voice was croaky with sleep and his sandy hair hung lank and unwashed over bloodshot eyes.
‘So . . .’ His eyes narrowed as Al and Sequoia walked in behind us. ‘Who do we have here? Kat, are you going to introduce me to your new friends?’
‘This is Al and Sequoia.’ I kept my voice casual; it had been a long time since I’d brought anyone home. ‘Al, this is my dad, Jimmy.’
Al stuck out his hand and smiled. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Jones.’
He’d remembered my surname – that pleased me but didn’t seem to impress Jimmy, who grunted and reached out a scarred hand. ‘Call me Jimmy.’
Al, to his credit, took it without flinching. But when he tried to pull back, Jimmy didn’t let go.
My cheeks began to burn.
If this was going to be a blokey thing, and they were going to butt chests or enter into a hand-crushing tournament, then Herc would have to dig a big hole in the backyard and bury me.
The moment stretched from awkward to excruciating. Then Jimmy figured he’d made his point and released Al’s hand. ‘What have you got there?’ he asked, glancing down at Al’s handful of signage.
‘Security and Dangerous Dog stickers,’ I said. ‘To scare off the burglars.’
Jimmy’s eyes flicked up at me.
He knew that I’d told Al.
Guilt gnawed at my chest, but I was careful to keep any hint of it from showing on my face. I’d learned my poker face the hard way. From the days when even the slightest fuss could set my dad off or drive him away. He’d retreat into his music, fingers trembling at the keys of his piano, eyes roaming the framed photos on the wall. Escaping into an easier place and time, when Mum was young and beautiful and, of course, alive.
‘You seem to know what you’re doing,’ Jimmy said coolly. The blank mask of my face must have satisfied him. He pushed himself up from the steps. ‘I’ll let you get on with it, then. I need to have a shower and get ready for work.’ He nodded at Al and slouched inside, his shoulders bowed above bony hips and skinny white calves.
Al stared after him. ‘He’s going to work? After what happened last night? But what if –’
‘Let’s just put these stickers up,’ I said quickly. ‘It’ll be too dark to see soon, so we’d better get a move on.’
Ten minutes later, the house boasted an illuminated Dangerous Dog sign on the front gate and security stickers on all its doors and windows.
But I still hadn’t found a way to broach the subject of Bill with Al.
Running into Jimmy had complicated things. I could tell Al didn’t approve of Jimmy leaving me alone at night – and that wasn’t the best place to start the conversation we needed to have. I was
at a bit of a loss. But maybe now that our house was signposted with warnings, Al would agree to keep Bill out of it.
‘“Warning – continuous electronic surveillance.”’ I read aloud from the sticker on the front door. ‘“Back-to-base monitored alarm.” That should put off any prowler.’
‘If it doesn’t, the “Dangerous Dog – Enter at Your Own Risk” should do the trick,’ Al added. ‘You’d have be a real nong to enter a yard with that on the gate.’ He stepped back to admire our handiwork. ‘That sign was never going to work for Sequoia – red setters are too ditzy to be dangerous. But I like it for Herc.’
The dangerous dog in question raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name. He was slumped on the path, his jaw resting on his front paws, eyes alert to every turn of the conversation. Sequoia, bored with his sloth, had wandered off to explore the backyard.
‘Bill reckons Herc looks the part.’ I’d finally found a way to work Bill into the conversation. Herc’s other eyebrow shot up as he transferred his attention to me. ‘If I get him one of those spiked collars, it’ll complete the illusion.’
Al snorted, reclaiming Herc’s attention. ‘Even though the only real danger he poses is being a tripping hazard.’
‘That’s dangerous enough for our purposes,’ I replied.
Herc puffed out a little sigh. The constant eyebrow waggling had exhausted him. He closed his eyes and passed a serene fart.
We surveyed him in silence.
‘Truly terrifying,’ said Al.
I nodded. ‘Like the sign says – “Enter at your own risk”.’
He laughed and I took that as my cue.
‘Listen, Al –’
The front door snicked open. Jimmy emerged, transformed. Dressed in black from head to toe, his hair slicked back above a buttoned-up shirt, jeans and boots. A snappy pork-pie hat dangled from his fingertips. He looked a bit pale, but otherwise pretty sharp.
Intruder Page 6
