‘You couldn’t protect me from an accident! No one could.’
He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. My father was crying. I wished I could hug him. But the only way I could reach him was with words.
‘If you’re not going to the birthday because you think anyone blames you …’
‘That’s not why,’ he answered huskily. ‘It’s the cousins.’
That made no sense. ‘But you love the cousins! I love the cousins!’
His gaze slid to the floor. ‘I know. That’s why I shouldn’t be around them.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I failed you!’ He looked up at me, the tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘I couldn’t keep you safe. I couldn’t take care of my child. I don’t deserve to go to birthday parties, and watch the cousins grow up when you’ll never …’
I finished the sentence for him: ‘When I’ll never grow up.’
I finally understood. I even understood why he’d snarled at me back at the hospital carpark: I’d jabbed at an open wound. I could see in his face how raw and bleeding this pain was for him.
Dad half-sat, half-fell onto the bed. I stayed on my feet, my head spinning. My father was impossibly turned around inside his own mind. I groped my way to more words – any words – that might make a difference, fumbling for a way to show him how far he was from being who he should be.
‘Dad, you’re … You know, I told Catching you were the person to call when you were in trouble. But now you’re not … you can’t …’
I was getting stupidly mixed up, and I had to do better. I tried again.
‘You taught me to be fair, Dad, and what you’re doing’s not fair to anybody. Especially me. How do you think I’m going to feel if I’m the reason you make everybody miserable? And if you can’t see how wrong you are – how unfair you’re being, to yourself and everybody else – then you’re not the dad I know.’
I wasn’t sure if I’d made sense to him. He was living in an upside-down world, believing upside-down things. But after a second, he whispered, ‘I’ll try.’
Did that mean he’d try to go? Or just try in general? I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t think he was either. But at least he understood that he needed to change. For now, that was enough. It had to be, because it was obvious he wasn’t up to talking about this anymore.
Dad lumbered to the bathroom and splashed cold water onto his face. Then he grabbed his car keys and we headed to the station to meet the city cops.
I talked as we motored along – prattled, really, like Allie, but only about the case. I didn’t say anything new, and nor did he, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was for him to be able to have a conversation without his voice breaking or his eyes tearing up, and by the time we reached the station he’d pushed his feelings far enough away to be able to do that.
I’d fully expected Derek Bell to get in Dad’s way at every available opportunity, since he obviously wasn’t going to be happy about the management of the case being transferred over to Dad and the city cops. But Bell wasn’t even there. He was out with Allie, interviewing the residents of the street where the bodies had been found. That meant the handover of the case went pretty smoothly. It also meant it was all kind of boring.
I hung about, becoming increasingly restless as the morning wore on. Dad kept glancing at the door, waiting for Bell and Allie to return. Only when Allie finally did arrive, she was alone. And she looked a little worried.
Dad strode over. ‘Derek not with you?’
‘I was actually hoping he was here.’ She glanced about the station as if she was going to find him in a corner somewhere. ‘He called last night to say he wasn’t feeling well, and said that if he didn’t show up this morning I should just do the interviews without him. So I did.’
‘Have you heard from him today?’
‘No. I’ve tried calling, but he’s not answering.’ She bit her lip. ‘Do you think … I mean, what if he’s collapsed or something? He really didn’t look well yesterday afternoon – he was sweating and shaky and so pale. I thought he might have food poisoning.’
I snorted. ‘He was scared. On account of how the web of lies he’s a part of is slowly unravelling. Maybe he’s done a runner, Dad!’
Dad gave a small nod. To Allie he said, ‘Tell you what, why don’t we go out to Derek’s place and check on him?’
Her face lightened in relief. ‘You think we should? He’s never liked people dropping by, but I really am worried. I can go on my own, though – I’m sure you have other things to do.’
‘It’s no problem,’ Dad replied. ‘I have a few things to confirm with him anyway. I’m assuming it won’t take long to get to his house?’
Allie widened her eyes in mock outrage. ‘Are you trying to say this place is small? I’ll have you know Derek lives on the edge of town.’ She grinned. ‘So, no, it won’t take long to get there.’
Derek Bell’s house was a big old weatherboard a little out of town and well away from any neighbours. I looked about as I followed Allie and Dad up the front path, but there was nothing much to see: dust, trees, crows, sky. All of it quiet and still.
Dad pushed the doorbell. It chimed loud in the silence, but nobody answered.
Allie pulled out her phone. ‘I’ll try calling again.’
After a few seconds there was a ringing from inside the house, faint but clear. Derek Bell’s phone was in there somewhere. So where was he?
Dad frowned and went to the nearest window, cupping his hands around his eyes and peering through the glass. He shook his head in frustration. ‘There’s something in the way. I can’t get a clear view.’
Allie darted over to the window on the other side of the door. ‘There’s something blocking this one too. Wait, there’s a gap! I can see—’ She stepped back with a gasp. ‘He’s on the floor! I think he’s unconscious!’
Dad charged the front door. Once: it rattled on its hinges. Twice: it rattled some more. Dad put a hand to his shoulder and winced.
‘You should stop before you really hurt yourself,’ I told him. But he just set his jaw and charged for a third time.
A gust of wind swept through, slamming against the wood along with my father. The door flew open. Dad’s momentum carried him inside, and Allie dashed in after him. I waited a few moments before following, wanting to keep out of Dad’s line of sight. I wasn’t sure he’d want me going in … but he hadn’t specifically told me to stay outside.
The door opened onto a gloomy hallway. I followed Dad’s voice into the room Allie had looked into from the outside.
It was dark in here too. Big planks of wood had been nailed across all the windows, leaving only a few gaps for sunlight to filter through. In the dim light, I could make out shapes that told me I was in Derek Bell’s lounge room: couch, bookcases, fireplace, knocked-over firescreen. Bell himself was lying on the floor, with Dad kneeling on one side of him and Allie on the other.
I edged closer to get a better view, and instantly wished I hadn’t. There was a dark stain across Bell’s chest. His eyes were open and staring.
He wasn’t unconscious. He was dead.
I slapped a hand to my mouth to stifle a gasp and took a hasty step back.
‘You should go back to the station,’ Dad said Allie. ‘There’s nothing you can do here.’
I cast an uneasy glance around the room, not keen on encountering Derek’s ghost – but Bell wasn’t here. Things felt finished for him, just as they had for Nurse Flint and Director Cavanagh.
‘I can handle this,’ Allie said. ‘I don’t need to go back to the station.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ Dad replied. ‘This scene shouldn’t be processed by people who worked for him. The city team can do it. And with Derek gone, you’re the boss. This is going to be hard on the people who knew him.’
‘You don’t just mean because he’s dead, do you?’ She cast a quick glance up at one of the boarded windows. ‘He was afraid of something, but he didn’t ask for help. What was he involved in?’
‘I’m not sure yet,’ Dad answered. ‘But yes, something was going on. There are going to be some tough days ahead.’
Allie was quiet for a moment, absorbing that. Then she raised her head, like she was going to look whatever was coming right in the face, and rose to her feet to stride out of the house.
Dad stood as well, casting a searching glance around the room. Which was when he spotted me.
‘Go outside, Beth! Now.’
I went. It was a relief to be back out in the fresh air and the sunshine. I hugged my arms around myself, shaky and shocked. I’d only seen Bell yesterday, weaselly but alive. Now he was gone. And based on the quick look I’d had at the body, he’d probably been stabbed. Likely by the same person who’d murdered three other people.
And who might still be inside.
With my father.
I dashed back into the house. ‘Dad! The killer might still be here!’
He wasn’t where I’d left him.
I darted through a doorway on the other side of the lounge, blinking in the dimness. Kitchen. But Dad wasn’t there either, or in the next room after that.
Then I heard his voice. I found him in a bedroom, talking on his phone: ‘Yes, like the others … I’ve sent Allison Hartley back to you. She can be trusted to manage the locals … See you when you get here.’
‘Dad, you could be in danger!’ I shouted.
He hung up. ‘There’s no one here but us, Beth.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ve looked around. And Bell’s been dead for a while – he was likely killed last night.’
‘Oh.’ I put my hand to my heart, as if I could slow it down by pressing on it. Then I glared at Dad. ‘I couldn’t find you. Why didn’t you turn the lights on?’
‘The electricity’s out. I don’t want you in here. Come on.’
I followed him back through the gloom and out into the front garden. He strode all the way to the fence before he turned to study the house, frowning his thinking frown.
‘There was no sign of forced entry before I knocked down the door,’ he mused. ‘And yet Bell was afraid.’
I saw what he meant. ‘So he let the killer in? It was someone he trusted? Maybe Sholt didn’t die in the fire after all!’
‘Maybe not. Bell was obviously terrified. And the only way in was—’
Dad’s mouth dropped open. He’d thought of something! ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing.’ But he was frowning deeper.
‘Come on, Dad! I know you’re thinking something.’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing I’m sure of yet. I’ll tell you when I am.’ He pulled out his phone and heaved a sigh. ‘Right now, I have to call my boss and let her know we have another dead body – and this one’s a cop.’
I listened in as he talked to Rachel. I couldn’t make out her words on the other end of the line but she sounded concerned, and I didn’t think it was just because a police officer was dead. The straightforward case she’d given Dad to ease him back into work had turned into a quadruple homicide. I hoped the confidence in his voice would reassure her that he could cope. Dad was in control. Actually, I was pretty sure he was on the trail of something.
Cops from the city arrived while Dad was on the phone. He motioned them towards the house and hung up to follow them inside. Eventually Dad came back out, holding a set of car keys he must have borrowed from the city team.
‘Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking now?’ I asked.
‘Not yet,’ he replied. ‘First, there’s someone we need to see.’
I’d figured that we were headed for the Sholt house. But we went to the hospital.
‘Catching’s who you want to see?’ I asked as Dad rolled the car to a stop. ‘You think she knows something that will help you solve Bell’s murder?’
He didn’t answer that. Instead, he said, ‘Before we go in, I need to ask you something. This morning, you said that you’d told Catching I was the person you’d call if you were in trouble. The thing is, Beth … how are you telling Catching anything?’
Oh. Oh. My stomach roiled. ‘Just because people can’t hear you doesn’t mean you can’t tell them things.’
Dad was watching me with a steady, patient expression. I hated that look. It was the one he used when he knew I was lying. ‘I think maybe she can hear you, Beth.’
So he’d figured it out. I slumped in defeat, and his mouth quirked into a smile. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
I looked down at my feet. ‘I don’t know. I just didn’t.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
I shrugged.
‘Well,’ Dad said, ‘I suppose I could always ask Catching why you didn’t—’
My head whipped up. ‘Don’t do that!’
‘If you tell me, I won’t have to.’
I couldn’t have Catching telling Dad that I was wasting my eternity trailing around after a sad old man. Maybe she won’t. Maybe she’ll be nice to him because she’s my friend. But I couldn’t be sure of that. For all I knew, Catching would think she was doing me a favour, by telling Dad the truth as she saw it.
I had to find a way to tell him that wasn’t as harsh as how she’d put it.
‘I … I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to talk to Catching about me,’ I said in a small voice. ‘She – well, she thinks I should move on.’
He frowned. ‘Is there somewhere for you to move on to?’
I opened my mouth to say, No. Of course not. There’s only here. Except the second I did it, the colours flashed into my mind and the words died in my throat. I couldn’t bear to say that the colours weren’t real.
I looked away from Dad, blinking back the traitor tears that had sprung into my eyes.
‘Beth. Is there a place?’
I nodded. ‘It’s full of colours.’
‘Is your mother there?’
I didn’t answer that. He didn’t ask again. Instead, he sat there in silence, watching me with that same steady regard. Waiting me out. ‘Yeah. She is.’
Dad made a choked, hurt noise. I hurried to reassure him. ‘But I’m not going. I’m staying here. With you.’
Except he didn’t seem reassured. If anything, he seemed worried. ‘I never thought you were choosing to stay here! I thought this was just where you were. If there’s a better place, a place with your mother, then isn’t that somewhere you’d like to be?’
No. I like it here. But it was too big a lie to say, and it stuck in my throat.
Dad stared at me for a moment and then whispered, ‘You’re staying because of me. Beth. I’ll be okay.’
I shook my head.
‘I will, I promise you I—’
‘You won’t, Dad! You aren’t. You’re sad.’
Dad’s face crumpled a little around the edges. And I didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to leave him until he was okay, and there was nothing he could say that would change my mind. It was just hurting us both to talk about it.
‘I’m going inside to see Catching,’ I told him. ‘To talk about the case. Are you coming?’
‘We can see Catching later! I think we should—’
I left the car, running right through the door and then the hospital walls until I’d reached Catching’s room. I found her sitting on her bed, as always, and spoke in a rush: ‘Dad’s coming, and he knows you can see me. I already told him what you think – about moving on, I mean – so you don’t need to say anything to him about me leaving and him being a sad man, nothing at all!’
I’d just managed to get the last word out when Dad burst in. ‘Beth, we have to talk about this.’
‘We really don’t.’
Unexpectedly, Catching spoke: ‘No, you don’t. Not now, anyway.’
We both turned to look at her. She’s different. Except she wasn’t. It was the same old Catching, only … brighter? Her eyes seemed a little browner, her hair a little darker, and all her edges a little bit m
ore pronounced.
‘You didn’t come here to fight with each other,’ Catching said. ‘You came for the story. You’ll have to sit down, though. It’s not a small ending.’
We were finally going to find out about the fire? Dad had been right when he’d said we needed to see Catching, although I couldn’t see how he’d known she would get to the end of her story today.
I settled onto the bed. Dad stayed where he was. ‘You may as well sit,’ I told him, ‘because I’m not talking about the other stuff, and if you keep trying to, I’ll just leave.’
He stared at me. I stared back until Dad sighed and gave in, pulling a chair out from the wall.
Catching waited until he was sitting by the bed. Then she rested her chin on her knees and started speaking, in a soft, contemplative tone that I hadn’t heard from her before: ‘When I was in the beneath-place, it was stories that got me through. Stories that brought me home.’
She tilted her head to one side, studying me and Dad. ‘But I don’t know where the end of this story is going to take you two.’
Outside, the wind began to gust, throwing dust into the air and blocking out the sunlight. As the room grew darker, the wind grew stronger, swirling past with a sound like rushing water. Weirdly, the sound seemed to be coming from all sides, as if the wind had somehow encircled the room and was blowing inside the hospital.
And Catching began: ‘People can time travel …’
People can time travel inside their heads.
Remember into the past.
Imagine into the future.
But sometimes you can’t escape the now.
I’m being carried like a piece of meat.
First has my wrists.
Second has my ankles.
My head tips. My body’s limp.
Can’t run. Can’t fight. Only endure. Like always.
They put me on the table. The one made of sticks.
They leave.
I’m not alone. Never alone.
There’s breathing in the shadows.
Low, heavy breaths. The Feed.
Something about him is different.
I don’t know what.
His palm presses against my stomach.
Catching Teller Crow Page 9
