Georgie asked the question they were all thinking. “What now?”
Eva couldn’t answer. None of them could.
“It doesn’t make sense,” said Eva. “It’s not me in the dream. It’s not me in that house.”
“You must be getting the memories mixed up,” Georgie said. “I was thinking about it while we were driving back. You have memories of that house — you were born there, and your father took you back to see it when you were older. Somehow, you must have superimposed the heart’s memory of the attack on the woman over the house of your childhood. It’s strange, Eva, but not impossible. Your body is in such an emotional state, I’m sure anything could happen.”
“But how would I know the inside of the house? I was a baby when we moved out, and when Dad took me back we just stopped out the front. We never went inside. How would I know the inside?”
“Maybe what you see in the dream is not the inside of that house at all. Maybe the dream begins as a memory of the heart — the killer’s memory of one of his victims in the actual house the attack took place. But then as you rewound the memory, as you stepped outside the house, your mind took over and gave you your own memory. That house holds significance for you, Eva. I suspect your mind is taking over the memory to protect you from your heart.”
“From his heart, you mean.” It was so confusing. There was nothing logical about the heart, that much was becoming clear.
“You look very tired, Eva. We should both go and let you get some rest. My place is not far away, so call if you need to, okay?”
“Thanks, Georgie,” said Eva.
Georgie said goodbye to them both and left. Eva looked up at Andrew standing by the bed. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“What for?”
“We didn’t find Amanda. We’re further away than ever. If Georgie is right, I may never be able to help you.”
“Trust me, Eva, you are helping me. Look, let’s be honest. It was always a long shot, trying to use your heart to find Amanda. But, you know what? At least we’ve been doing something. I haven’t been sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring. So please, don’t be sorry.”
He was right, Eva thought. She’d at least been a distraction for him and, come to think of it, he’d done the same for her.
“Besides,” Andrew continued, “It’s my fault Amanda is in this mess. He took her to get at me.”
Eva shook her head. “Come on, don’t do that. You can’t blame yourself. He did this, that horrible man. He’s the only one responsible.” Eva still couldn’t bring herself to say the name of her heart donor.
“No. If I hadn’t been obsessed with finding the prick all this time, it wouldn’t have happened. None of it would have happened. Maybe even the affair wouldn’t have happened, if I’d been more of a husband.”
Eva turned away. She didn’t like to hear him talk about his marriage, to blame himself for it falling apart. She changed the subject.
“I had a fight with Taylor.”
“I figured.”
“She said the heart has changed me.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean that.”
“But she said it. She meant it enough to say it, even if it was in the heat of the moment.”
They were both silent for a while. Eva leant back against the pillow, closed her eyes for a while. When she opened them, Andrew had pulled a chair up close and was holding her hand.
“I thought you’d gone to sleep,” he said, and Eva could see concern in his face. “You don’t look well. I think I’m going to go find someone—”
“No.” Eva looked at him. “Now you’re doing it,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Treating me like a child. I’m fine. You’re as bad as the rest of them.”
Andrew held up his hands in mock defence. “I don’t think of you as a child. Believe me, that’s the last thing on my mind when I look at you.”
She studied him for a moment, and for the first time allowed herself to wonder where this would end up, once Amanda was found. If she was found.
“What do you see?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What do you see when you look at me?” Suddenly she had to know.
“I see an ambitious, determined woman. Someone who won’t let illness get in her way. I think you can handle whatever life throws at you, Eva, including this heart. But right now, you need to rest. I should go.”
He stood, but Eva wouldn’t let go of his hand. She’d been desperate to stop the nightmares, but now it was about much more than that. Helping him had become her focus; there was a life at stake. But she was beginning to realise it was no longer about saving Amanda, at least not for her. It was all about this man, who right now was standing protectively over her, and Eva wasn’t sure how to handle it. What did it say about her, that helping Andrew was a bigger driving force than saving a life? Somewhere deep down she knew that finding Amanda would mean losing him, and it terrified her. Was this the heart speaking? Was the heart of a killer beginning to influence her mind?
“Please, can you sit with me a little while longer?” she asked. “I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to dream.”
“Sure.” He smiled as he sat back down. He didn’t speak, he didn’t have to. Having him there was comforting, and for the first time since the nightmares began she almost felt safe.
* * *
“You’re a hard man to track down, Mr Fox.” The voice that woke Eva was deep and unfamiliar. Andrew let go of her hand as he turned around, visibly startled by the voice.
“Cooper. What are you doing here?”
“Your friend Jane Feehan told us we might find you here. I called her when I couldn’t get any answer on your numbers.”
“Flat battery,” Andrew explained. “Haven’t had a chance to charge it. What do you want? Come to throw some more unfounded allegations at me?”
“No. I’ve come to take you to your wife.”
Andrew jumped out of the chair, almost knocking it over.
“You found her? Where is she? Is she all right? Is she alive?” The questions tumbled out of him, and although she was relieved to hear Amanda had been found, Eva felt him slipping away from her.
“She’s alive, but she’s in a bad way. Severely dehydrated. The doctors are working on her now.”
“She’s here? In the hospital?”
“She’s over at RPA. Detective Quinn will take you there now.” A second man, one Eva had not noticed until now, stepped into view. He took up the entire doorway. Andrew almost barrelled straight into him in his hurry to get to Amanda. Detective Quinn stepped back into the hallway, and with barely a backwards glance, Andrew was gone.
It was a moment before Eva realised the remaining detective was talking to her.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said my name is Detective Charlie Cooper, and I’m very sorry for the interruption.”
“Oh. That’s okay. I’m glad you found her.”
“Yes, so are we. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” He turned to leave, but Eva had to ask him something.
“Is she going to be all right? Is Amanda going to make it?”
“I think so. The doctors are doing everything they can. Hopefully, we got to her in time.”
“I’ve got his heart, you know.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The killer. Fraser Grant. I got his heart. That’s why I’m in here. Heart transplant. I’m alive because he died. I’m alive because someone killed him.”
The detective stared at her; he seemed unsure what to say. Eva wasn’t sure herself. Why had she just told him that?
“I know I should be grateful, happy to be alive,” she continued. Something about this man made her want to talk. “But I’m not. I’m not sorry he’s dead, of course. He can’t hurt anyone else now, but I wish I didn’t get his heart. I wish I was dead, too.”
The detective came over to the bed and put a comforting hand on Eva’s shoulder.
“No, that’s okay. Sorry to unload on you. It’s been a rough day.” Eva looked at him closely. “You have kind eyes, Detective Charlie Cooper.”
He smiled and turned toward the door, but hesitated. When he turned back, Eva noticed concern in those eyes.
“Has Andrew Fox been interviewing you for his book?” he asked.
“What book?”
“You know he’s the journalist who’s been following the Adultery Killer case the whole time, right? He’s writing a book about it. I assume that’s why he was here. Be careful, Miss Matthews. I’ve known that man a long time, and in my opinion he can’t be trusted.”
Eva was too stunned to respond. Andrew, writing a book? He’d never mentioned it to her. They’d spent hours together; why hadn’t he told her? Because he was just using her for material? Oh, God, it made sense. She was the recipient of the killer’s heart. All that stuff about cellular memory, the nightmares, what a great chapter that would make in his story, especially with his own wife a victim.
The detective was almost at the door when Brenda came bustling in, arms full of shopping bags, Alan trailing behind. They put the bags on the floor and looked at him.
“Hello,” said Alan, waiting for an introduction.
Eva pulled herself together. “Dad, Mum, this is Detective Cooper. They’ve found Amanda. She’s alive.”
Brenda pushed her way forward. “Oh, that is good news! Well done, Detective! I’m Brenda, by the way, Brenda Matthews. Eva’s mum. This is my husband, Alan.”
“Good to meet you, Mrs Matthews. Mr Matthews. I was just on my way out actually. Paperwork to do; I’m sure you understand. I’ll leave you to it. All the best, Eva.”
Eva nodded goodbye, still trying to make sense of what she’d just heard. Brenda took the chair next to the bed while Alan emptied the shopping bags and put away the various items they’d brought for Eva.
“Well,” said Brenda, “that is good news, isn’t it, sweetheart? Now you can forget about all that dream nonsense and concentrate on getting better.”
“Mum,” sighed Eva, “it’s not just about me, you know.”
“It is as far as I’m concerned. You’ve been through too much. Now, let me look at you. You’re very pale, sweetheart. What have the doctors said today?” Brenda continued asking questions and telling Eva she needed to rest, making no mention of their disagreement early this morning. Eva was glad; that felt like a lifetime ago. Maybe Brenda had been right all along, she should never have gotten involved with Andrew Fox and his crazy story. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her mother’s voice, quickly drifting off to an uneasy slumber.
39
Andrew stood outside the room, frozen in fear as to what he may find. He’d been too close to Fraser Grant’s previous victims.
“You nearly knocked me over in your rush to get here. Aren’t you going to go in?” asked Detective Quinn.
“Just give me a minute, will you?” Andrew steeled himself, then knocked on the door before pushing it open.
Amanda was lying in the bed with a drip in her right arm and oxygen tubes in her nose. She was incredibly pale, but otherwise she looked okay. The doctor was just finishing her examination, and when Amanda saw Andrew she reached out with a slender arm. He went to her side and held her hand, relief flooding through him. She was alive.
“Your wife has been through a very traumatic ordeal, Mr Fox. I assume you are Mr Fox?”
“Yes, I am.” He wanted to ask how she was, but not yet.
The doctor addressed Amanda. “Plenty of rest, and you’ll be fine. Don’t try and deal with this all at once, Amanda. Concentrate on the physical for now.” She placed a card beside the bed. “Call me anytime, day or night.”
“Thank you. Can I have a shower now, please?” Amanda croaked.
Andrew could only imagine what his wife had been through in the time she was held captive, but he knew enough about police procedures and evidence gathering to know that it hadn’t ended there. The examination could feel like an extension of the crime itself, the invasion of privacy continuing long after the perpetrator was gone.
The doctor gave her a reassuring smile. “Yes. I’ll send in a nurse to help you get cleaned up.” With that she left, and the two of them were alone.
“So how are you feeling?” he asked. It sounded lame.
“You heard her. Plenty of rest and I’ll be fine.”
She looked exhausted. There was a cup of water with a straw beside the bed. He offered it but she waved it away.
“I’m so sorry, Amanda.”
“I can’t, Andy. I can’t talk about this now. Can you just sit with me?”
“Sure, babe, sure.” He put the drink down and did as she asked. Amanda’s eyes closed and before long she was sleeping. He let go of her hand and went into the corridor to start calling family and friends.
* * *
Half an hour later Amanda woke and a nurse came to take her for a shower. Once he’d finished making phone calls, Andrew cornered the doctor to ask some questions. The doctor said Amanda would be drifting in and out of sleep until her body recovered. She had been unconscious and severely dehydrated when they found her, and paramedics on the scene had started IV fluids immediately. By the time they got to the hospital she had come around, and her condition improved quickly. “She’s young and fit,” the doctor told him, “she’ll bounce back from this. Physically, at least.”
“Better?” asked Andrew when she was helped back into bed. Amanda nodded, and indicated the water cup on the side table. He held it to her mouth but she took it in her own hands. “Your mum and dad are on their way. I called Jane. She cried when I told her you were okay. She’s letting everyone else know.” Andrew paused, not quite sure if he could ask the next question. “Amanda, do you want me to call Mickey?”
Amanda dropped the cup of water, spilling the remaining contents all over the bed.
“How much do you know?” she asked.
“I know enough. I even met him the other day. Went there to punch his lights out, and ended up having a beer with the guy instead. Amanda, is he what you want?”
She started to cry. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Andy. I just needed something more, you know?”
“Something more than I could give you.” It was a statement, rather than a question.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again.
“I’m sorry, too. If I hadn’t been so damn stubborn, if I’d left it to the police to find the killer, none of this would have happened. That bastard wouldn’t have taken you.”
“But he would have taken someone. Why not me? I deserved it. I was cheating on you. It was my fault.”
“It was Fraser Grant’s fault,” he cried. “No-one is to blame but him.”
“Is that his name? Did they catch him, Andy?”
The question took him by surprise, the realisation that no-one had told her yet. When Amanda was missing, the anxiety and tension had overwhelmed him. There’d been no time for anger. But now that she was safe, rage was beginning to take over. Maybe the cops were right to suspect Andrew himself — he should have been the one to catch Grant. He should have been the one to end it all.
Amanda was tugging her arm, trying to get free of his grip. He realised he was clenching his fists tight, and he released her hand, remembered her question.
“He’s dead, babe. He’s been dead since Monday. Someone killed him, before the police even knew you were missing. I didn’t get home until Tuesday.” Andrew hung his head.
They sat quietly for a long time. Andrew could only imagine what she must have been through. He tried to block the thoughts out, but the photographs Fraser Grant had sent to him at the paper over the years kept floating in his mind. Images of women tortured and violated, the look of complete loss an
d resignation in their eyes. How far had the sick fuck gone with Amanda? Should he even ask? How do you begin to help someone come back from something like this?
As if reading his mind, Amanda started to cry. “I don’t know what to do,” she blurted. “I just don’t want to be alone.”
Andrew took a tissue and dabbed at the tiny tears on her cheeks. “You’re not alone, babe. Whatever happens, you’ll never be alone again. I promise. Look, let’s just concentrate on getting you back to your old self for now, hey? We can worry about the rest of it later.”
She nodded, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She looked into his eyes and for a moment she was the woman he married again, needing his love, his protection. But the moment passed too quickly and she was looking over his shoulder to the next person who walked through the door.
“Mum!” she cried. “Dad!”
Andrew stepped back to let her parents through, and as he watched them claim their daughter he sank back against the wall. As much as he felt for his wife right now, he found his mind wandering to another patient in another hospital.
40
“Shhh, it’s on!” came a voice in the crowded squad room. The television was turned up so everyone could hear the six o’clock news bulletin above the sounds of high-spirited officers and clinking bottles.
In breaking news tonight, police have found the Adultery Killer’s last victim alive. A short time ago twenty-six-year-old Amanda Fox was found in an isolated farmhouse in Darkes Forest, south of Sydney. Mrs Fox was airlifted to Royal Prince Alfred Hospital in Sydney where she is said to be in a stable condition. It is not known at this stage what injuries she may have suffered at the hands of Fraser Grant, the man believed responsible for nine abductions and murders spanning almost a decade. Grant himself was found dead in a Glebe apartment earlier this week, in what we can now reveal were suspicious circumstances. The identity of his killer is at this stage a mystery, with police remaining tight-lipped as to whether there are any suspects. We are expecting a press conference with the Homicide Squad Commander Superintendent Chris Rochford shortly, but now we cross live to Lucy Hill who is outside the house in Darkes Forest. Lucy?
The Dark Series Page 29
