“Was she heading to work?”
Isabelle nodded, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.
“Was she going anywhere before work?”
“No. Never. She started at eight-thirty, so she had just enough time to drive across town and park at the refinery.”
McKenzie made notes. “Did Juliette have a boyfriend?”
Isabelle shook her head.
“A recent ex?”
“She hasn’t been seeing anyone for months.”
“Did she mention if someone was interested in her?” he asked.
“No. She’s been so busy with work and study. She hasn’t had time.”
“And she works at the alumina refinery, you said?”
“Yes.”
“No troubles with any workmates?”
“No. None. Not that she told me.” Isabelle’s face was pale. Her eyes were red and watery.
“You’re married, Isabelle?”
A deep breath. A nod.
“Your husband is…?”
“Chris Brooks.”
Detective McKenzie lifted his head, gazed at her. “He’s not Juliette’s biological father?”
She shook her head.
“What is Chris’s relationship with Tina Brooks?”
“She’s his ex-wife.”
“Did Juliette have a relationship with Tina?”
Isabelle’s brow furrowed. “Not at all. I don’t understand why you’re asking about her.”
“Just trying to get an idea at this stage.”
“Was Tina involved?” Isabelle asked. “Did she hurt Juliette?”
“Tina was found nearby. At this stage, we’re unsure if she was involved in the incident.”
“She’s been stalking me every morning for the past week. If she hurt my daughter… If she so much as touched a hair on her head…” Isabelle lurched to her feet, glanced around the room erratically, then marched to the window, looking outside to where Tina had been parked the past few mornings.
“Isabelle?” McKenzie said.
Isabelle turned her head, met his sympathetic gaze. “Did Tina hurt Juliette?”
“Was there a reason for Tina to hurt Juliette?”
She shook her head, shrugged, and came back and crumbled into her seat like her legs had given out beneath her. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. No one would want to hurt Juliette. She’s the kindest, most beautiful…” She broke off with a mournful groan, bending over.
Jenkins appeared in the entryway with a cup of tea in her hand. She went to Isabelle, touched her shoulder, making her flinch. “Come on now. Sit back. I’ve made you a nice cup of tea.”
Isabelle robotically took the tea from Jenkins’s hands.
Jenkins settled beside Isabelle. “You’re doing really well. I know this isn’t easy, but the more information we can gather early on, the more direction we have.”
“Where’s your husband at the moment?” McKenzie asked.
Isabelle glanced at him, frowned even deeper. “He’s staying at a hotel.”
“Is that usual?”
She shook her head. “We fought.”
“Do you mind me asking what about?”
“He had bought cameras for Tina. He’d gone to her house to install them.”
“You were worried about the cost? Or that he saw his ex?”
“Both.” Her hand fell to her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
McKenzie and Jenkins looked at each other.
“Is Chris aware of this pregnancy?” Jenkins asked gently.
Isabelle nodded.
“He’s happy about it?”
Again, Isabelle nodded, but her body trembled, and she spilled tea down her front. Jenkins reached for the cup, taking it from Isabelle’s shaking hands and rested it on the side table next to the couch.
“I can’t believe this,” Isabelle groaned. “I can’t believe it.”
“Which hotel is Chris staying in?” McKenzie asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think he told me.”
“Is there someone you would like us to call?” Jenkins asked. “Chris? A family member? A close friend? Just so you have someone here to support you.”
Isabelle’s parents were first to come to her mind, but they were in Tasmania. By the time they organised flights, it could be hours, if not tomorrow before they could get there. Juliette’s face appeared then, and pain surged anew like long-taloned claws were raking out her insides.
Only then did she think about Chris along with the ominous realisation that she didn’t trust him, especially if Tina was involved in Juliette’s death. What she did know for certain was that she didn’t want Chris anywhere near her.
All she needed was for Juliette to walk through the front door in one piece. Nothing else would help; nothing at all.
“Yes.” Her voice was soft, croaky. “My friend. Renee. She works at my salon.”
McKenzie managed a warm, sympathetic frown. “Let’s give her a call then.”
Chapter 22
Dr Michaels spoke with two detectives waiting in the hall outside Tina’s hospital room. A full day had passed since Tina had been admitted. She lay on her side on the bed, knees bent towards her chest, eyes closed, dozing.
“Tina isn’t fully lucid at this point,” Dr Michaels said. “But she’s in no physical harm if you would like to speak with her.”
The two detectives strode into the room.
“There are some people here to see you, Tina,” Dr Michaels said.
Tina dragged her eyelids open, rolled onto her back and pushed her palms into the mattress to lift herself into a seated position. Her head was woozy, her mind a patchy jumble of thoughts and memories.
“I’m Detective Inspector McKenzie and this is Detective Jenkins. We would like to talk about the incident yesterday. Do you think you’re up to it?”
Tina glanced at the doctor, then back to McKenzie who was dressed in perfectly ironed grey trousers, a crisp white long-sleeved shirt and tie. The female detective wore black slacks and a flatteringly cut pale-blue shirt.
She cleared her throat. “Ah, I’m not sure. Maybe. My brain isn’t working properly, but I’ll do my best.”
“Use that buzzer there to call me if you want to take a break,” Dr Michaels said, then strolled out of the room.
McKenzie offered his partner the chair beside the bed and collected a spare chair from across the room. It was a four-patient room, but the other three beds were unoccupied.
Tina coughed. Her throat was so dry. With shaking hands, she reached across to the small table beside her that had a jug of water and an empty glass waiting. She clumsily poured a drink but spilled some on the tabletop. When she lifted the glass to her lips, drips fell onto the bed and down her white hospital gown.
Detective McKenzie took a seat beside his partner. “How are you feeling now, Tina?” McKenzie asked.
“Not the best,” she said with a weak voice.
“That’s understandable. You were in quite a state when I found you yesterday morning.”
Her shoulders drooped as she sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad the staff are taking good care of you here.”
Tina placed her cup on the table, leaned her back against the bed, resting her head on the pillows. It was difficult to stay upright without feeling like she was about to tilt over.
“We would like to hear your account of what happened. You okay to talk about it?” Jenkins asked. She was noticeably younger than McKenzie. Had a less harrowed look to her deep brown, almost black, eyes.
“I can try. I’m still not feeling myself.”
“I understand. Just take your time.”
Tina linked her hands together over her lap. A smooth, pale blue blanket covered her legs.
“Chris Brooks is your ex-husband?” McKenzie asked, peeling open the soft cover of his notepad.
“Yes.”
“You divorced a while ago now?”
&n
bsp; “A few years ago, I think.”
“You think?”
Tina pressed a hand to her head. “I’m sorry. My memories are so foggy. We separated, um, about two-and-a-half years ago.”
“And he has remarried? To Isabelle Brooks.”
She nodded.
“Why did you and Chris separate?”
She squeezed her eyes closed, swimming through the jumble of her thoughts. Her memories were connected with tar, some obscured, some vivid, some fleeting, disappearing like fine silk strands in a breeze the moment she reached for them. “We had our only child… um…” She hesitated, then sat bolt upright, blinking hard. “I can’t remember her name. I can’t remember.” She hit the side of her head, once, twice. “I can’t—”
“Take your time,” Jenkins said.
Tina tossed her head from side to side, holding her breath and then burst out with, “Kadie! Kadie was her name. I couldn’t…” Tears filled her eyes. Her nose ran. “I almost forgot. How could I forget? What mother forgets?”
McKenzie passed a look with Jenkins, then focused on Tina again. Her eyes were red and swollen, filled with tears. She was twitchy. Her hands wringing together. “You’ve been through some turmoil, Tina, I’m sure, under these circumstances, it’s quite normal.”
Tina wiped her eyes with her palms, breathing quickly.
Jenkins stood and picked out a couple of tissues from the box on the side table and handed them to Tina. “There you go. You just take your time there.”
Tina dabbed her tears and blew her nose, trying to breathe slowly and calmly.
“Can you continue?” Jenkins asked with a soothing, sympathetic tone when she had returned to her seat.
Tina nodded. “After Kadie died, Chris and I weren’t great. You know? Stressed. Grieving. So lost. Our relationship fizzled out.”
“That’s understandable. I’m sorry about your daughter,” McKenzie said.
“Thank you.”
“How did you feel about Chris remarrying?”
She shrugged. “We were over by then. I anticipated he’d eventually move on. I’m glad he was able to find some happiness again.”
“What is your relationship like with Chris now?”
“Pretty good,” she said. “We still talk now and then.”
“No heated arguments or conversations?”
Tina shook her head, but then stopped herself and nodded instead. “We did argue recently.”
McKenzie kept his expression neutral. “When was that?”
“Yesterday. No, um, the day before that. He came to speak with me about Isabelle. I told him she’d been stalking me. Tapping on my windows at night. Leaving strange notes inside my house.”
“Isabelle had been doing that?”
She nodded.
“How do you know it was Isabelle?”
“I saw her. I shone torchlight directly on her face. It was Isabelle.”
“Over what time did that happen?”
“The past few weeks. I called the police to help me, but there wasn’t much they could do, so they told me to lodge an online report. I didn’t know it was Isabelle back then. I didn’t understand what was happening.”
“The Gladstone Police?”
She nodded. “I spoke to an officer. Ryan, Peter, I can’t remember his name.”
“And this was what Chris spoke to you about?”
“Yes. But he didn’t believe me. He didn’t believe that Isabelle was stalking me.”
“Was the conversation heated?” McKenzie asked.
“A little. Nothing major. I raised my voice somewhat, then sped away.”
“Sped away? This conversation took place in your car?”
“Yes.”
McKenzie’s pen was poised on his notepad. “Whereabouts?”
“Um… a few streets from his house.”
“His and Isabelle’s home?”
“Yes.”
“Why in that specific spot?”
She hesitated, swallowed hard, gaze focused on her lap, rather than the detective’s eyes. When she finally looked at McKenzie, she was frowning, blushing somewhat. “I’d been following Isabelle to work. I wanted to show her that I wasn’t intimidated. And maybe it was to give her a taste of her own medicine.”
“Because of the stalking?”
She nodded.
“Anything else happen during that conversation? Something said that made you upset or angry?”
She wrung her hands together. “He told me Isabelle was pregnant.”
“And did that upset you?”
“It did. I was sad he was replacing Kadie so easily. I felt like he was betraying her memory.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“No. I just drove away.”
“Did you go home after that?”
She nodded.
“Tell me about the following morning?” McKenzie asked, focusing on his notepad, leaving a silence hang in the small hospital room.
“My memories are patchy.” She shifted on the bed, head shaking slightly, eyes darting around the room.
“You were found in your car on the side of the road, a few streets from Chris and Isabelle’s home at around eight-thirty in the morning. Can you tell me why you were there?”
She squinted, looked off in the distance, searching through the black gloom of her memories. “I was driving somewhere.”
The detectives remained quiet.
“I saw Isabelle. Yes, that’s right, I saw her. She was in her car. Driving past me. She lifted her middle finger at me and smirked. I don’t know if… or…” A hand to her head. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to draw the memories from the sticky resin they were trapped in. Her eyes flashed open again as a thought struck her. “I was dizzy. So dizzy. I wasn’t feeling good, and I think I just, I don’t know, blacked out, maybe. It’s hard to remember. There was an impact. My car hit her car. Isabelle got out. Yes, she got out and she was screaming at me. Such anger. I was frightened she would hurt me...” She trailed off, looked deep into her mind. “Something was wrong with me. I was too hot.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “My heart was racing. I thought I was having a heart attack.” She squinted. A blink, lashes fluttering. “I don’t know what happened. I can’t—”
“Take your time,” McKenzie said. “See what else turns up.”
Tina racked her brain, but behind her temples was an insistent pounding. The top of her skull ached. She reached for her head, pulled gently at her hair. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything.” Tears slid down her cheeks. Her chest was tight. A sick, slippery sensation of doom pervaded her belly and moved up her throat like burning vomit, choking her. “Something bad happened, didn’t it? Something really, really bad.”
She pulled her knees to her chest, hugged her legs and rocked. Loud, watery sobs filled the room. “Something bad. Something so bad.” Each word was choked by tears, barely decipherable. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” She rocked harder, hugged her knees more firmly. “No. No. No. No. Isabelle was horrifying. Her face had changed into this… demonic thing.” Snot and tears dribbled from her nostrils. “She was charging at me.” She flinched, tore the sheets away, searched her body for an injury. “Did she hurt me? Is that what happened?”
“The doctor just told us you’re physically unharmed. What else can you remember?”
After a long moment, an image formed in her mind. “I ran. I ran from her. I climbed into my car and I raced away. I was petrified she would follow me. But I couldn’t see properly. There was something wrong with me. I couldn’t see the road properly. These black spots were everywhere. And then” – she shook her head, narrowed her eyes – “I don’t remember.” She glanced around the hospital room as though seeing it for the first time, pulled the sheets high up to her chin and shook. “Did I hurt her? Did I hurt Isabelle?”
After a long silence, McKenzie leaned forward. “Isabelle is safe and healthy.”
Tina’s hand flung to her chest and she s
ighed with relief. “Oh, thank God. I didn’t hurt her?”
“No, you didn’t hurt Isabelle.”
“I’m so relieved.” She narrowed her gaze, brow furrowing. “I don’t understand. Was it a dream? Was it even real?”
McKenzie glanced at his partner, then back to Tina. He was cautious of pushing Tina to incriminate herself at this stage when she was still obviously under the influence of some substance. “Once you get medical clearance, we would like to continue this interview at the station.”
“Why? You said Isabelle was safe.”
“Just to make sure we’ve exhausted all available avenues.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “Um, okay.”
“I’m going to read back my notes to you, but I’ll get the doctor in the room before I do that. I’ll need a signature to confirm I haven’t misrepresented what you’ve told me today. You can, of course, clarify anything at any time.”
Tina nodded. She had never been more confused in her life.
Chapter 23
A knock at Chris’s hotel door. His heart skipped, hoping it was Isabelle. He was flying out to the mine in the next couple of hours and didn’t want to leave what had gone wrong between him and his wife still broken.
He threw on a shirt and jogged to the door. Apprehension made his shoulders heavy. He prayed Isabelle wasn’t going to give up on this relationship so soon. He was terrified of being thrust back into the aftermath of another separation. It hurt like nothing else to have a good relationship end.
Chris hauled the door open, but his brow wrinkled when he found a sharp-dressed man and woman.
“Chris Brooks?” The man asked.
“Yes, but—”
“I’m Detective Inspector McKenzie and this is Detective Jenkins. Do you mind if we come in and have a chat?”
He shook his head. “Detectives? What’s this about?”
“Just a few questions about Juliette Stanley.”
“Juliette? Why, what’s she done?”
They peered down the long, empty hall. “It’s probably best if we come in and chat about the matter.”
He stood out the way and gestured they enter. He was staying in a small room, the bed taking up most of the space. There was a desk along the front wall with a single chair, but that was it as far as seating went. “I don’t have anywhere to sit.”
All That Was Left Unsaid Page 13
