Gone Phishing

by Bowes, K T

  He looked backwards at her, their eyes meeting and he communicated his appreciation at her steadying touch. “This is sick,” he mouthed and she smiled with relief. She had forty minutes to relax until Dane experienced the plane landing and she needed to steel herself. “Mount Maungatautari.” She pointed out a lump below, bush covered and ringed by a forty kilometre vermin proof fence to protect the native species there.

  “Kaimai Ranges.” Dane matched her mountain naming competition, pointing across her and through the other window. “Pirongia.”

  “It’s a beautiful clear day,” Melody said, leaning across the aisle. “Taranaki and Ruapehu will look incredible from up here.”

  Dane nodded with enthusiasm and held his breath through a patch of turbulence, closing his eyes and tensing against the dropping sensation. He caught Sophia watching him as he opened his eyes and his fingers reached for hers. “I did it,” he whispered, the air of the confessional surrounding them in a warm bubble of conspiracy.

  “Did what?” Sophia leaned closer to hear and Dane breathed out through pursed lips.

  “Nicked the reggo plates off a utility vehicle at your dad’s work.”

  “Why would you do that?” Her tone held recrimination and he put his chin in the air. Another patch of turbulence sent his body rigid again.

  “Nobody caught me.” He gritted his teeth and increased the pressure on her fingers to painful.

  “You’re lucky; Edgar said the camera isn’t working,” Sophia said, glancing back at Melody.

  Dane scoffed. “Looked okay.”

  Sophia shook her head. “And you still did it?”

  “What techno-schmuck doesn’t know is that the camera didn’t cover that ute. It’s not broken; it’s angled wrong and his boss isn’t likely to admit that. I bet they lied about where they parked the ute, anyway.” Dane closed his eyes against the falling sensation as cold air buffeted the plane at altitude. “There’s always cameras in places with expensive stuff like cars and they always work.”

  Sophia looked at her fingers and shrugged. “So you’ll be caught,” she concluded, her voice flat.

  “Nope.” Dane moved his hand away at her wince of pain. “I parked my car up the road after dark and walked. Stayed out of range of all the cameras and wore that coat your dad wears when he does a sale in the rain. I lifted it from the house the night before. With the hood up I looked like a sales guy. I wore gloves and nobody touched the plates without them. We put the ute’s own plates back on before we used the petrol stations and then switched them back after. The speeding ticket’s unfortunate but Darren’s always had lead feet.”

  “Why not just use its own plates? Why the drama?” Her eyes closed in exasperation. “I knew it. You nicked the ute too, didn’t you?”

  “No!” Dane looked hurt. “Darren’s boss owns it.” He screwed up his face and looked at her sideways. “But he went out of town so we figured he wouldn’t miss it. He doesn’t write his mileage down so he won’t be able to query the extra thousand kilometres it did that weekend.”

  “A thousand?” Sophia’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “We only travelled eight hundred.”

  Dane grinned. “Darren and Animal went to Raglan on Sunday night for a twilight surf after we got back. It went in for a service on Monday and Darren reckons they always valet it before they give it back. Don’t worry, Soph. We’re not stupid.”

  “No, but you’re far too expert at smoke and mirrors for my liking,” she grumbled. “How did the ute sit on the forecourt all weekend with no number plates? What if someone noticed, or they sold that vehicle?”

  Dane leaned in close and whispered in her ear, moving her curls with his gentle breaths. “I’ve got a mate who lends dodgy plates. I stuck those on for the weekend and we swapped them before Darren dropped me back at Calli’s to fetch my car.”

  “Why not just leave them on?”

  “They weren’t copies, Soph. He works at the transport centre and all the plates are registered. He’s got a few which have been deregistered and he lends them out for a small fee. We found one that looked close enough. The E was an F but nobody will notice because I changed it with permanent marker. He’ll clean that off before he uses them again.”

  “What if we got into an accident or killed someone?” Sophia asked, sounding upset. Her eyes flashed dark and Dane shrugged.

  “Then it’d be game over,” he said. “But we didn’t.”

  “You need to stop doing this stuff,” Sophia said, undoing her seatbelt and sitting sideways. “I won’t live in a state of permanent fear, wondering what you’re into and worrying about prison or worse.”

  Dane nodded. “Okay.”

  Sophia narrowed her eyes and peered into his face. “Na, too easy. I don’t believe you.”

  Dane inhaled, his expression hurt. He spread his hands in front of him. “You can frisk me for ciggies. It’s been eight days, nine hours, ten minutes and eighteen seconds since my last one.”

  “It’s not the point!” Sophia picked at the skin beside her thumbnail, feeling the pinching sensation as it tore. “If we need to create a stable home environment for Maisie and Will next year, I can’t spend my life worrying whether you’ll come home or I’ll get a call from the cops to come and bail you out. I’m not doing it.”

  Dane’s eyelashes flickered and he looked chastened. “I promise,” he said. His fingers strayed to her cheek and then the back of her neck, his arm slipping around her shoulders and pulling her against his side. The arm rest cut into her ribcage. “I wanted to get you to Palmy but I should’ve found another way. My choices will be above reproach from now on.”

  Sophia smiled and her eyes strayed forward to the man who withdrew his head at speed, caught staring again. His interest made her uneasy and she wracked her brain but didn’t recognise him. Oblivious, Dane kissed the side of her face and she reached out and touched his other hand, pushing her fingers through his and linking them until they locked shut around hers. The memory of her father filled her chest with unease, the bad boy turned good for her mother’s affection all those years ago. Just like Dane he switched sides, but she’d seen the bad ruling in Edgar of late. She nestled against Dane’s shoulder and stared at his handsome profile as he looked through the opposite window at Taranaki with its snow covered magnificence. She almost heard the wheels of history crank into motion and prayed hers wouldn’t be a repeat of her parents’.

  Chapter 40

  Bearer of Bad News

  “Is it time yet?” Sophia pushed her uneaten food to the side and pulled Dane’s wrist closer so she could peer at his dad’s watch. “It must be time to go.”

  Melody glanced at Dane and then back at the teenage girl with the jitters in her eyes. “Stop worrying,” she said with confidence. “We’ll leave in a few minutes. She meets a group of friends for lunch this time every week. She won’t be home yet.” Melody stood and began stacking plates and cutlery and Dane joined her.

  “I need to get it over with,” Sophia repeated, fingers writhing at her chest. Dane eyed her with concern and loaded their plates into the dishwasher, closing the drawer with his knee.

  “Thanks for letting us stay here, Melody,” he said, watching their host move around the expensive kitchen. “And for paying our flight.”

  “Do you feel better now?” Melody looked sideways at Dane, a small smile on her lips. “I’ve never seen anyone use those sick bags on a domestic flight before.”

  Dane shuddered and patted his lunch, wrinkling his nose against the memory. “The bacon was too salty at breakfast,” he commented, flushing with embarrassment.

  “Of course.” Melody shot Sophia a conspiratorial glance, realising she wasted her efforts as the girl looked to be in a world of her own and torn up with nerves. “Let’s do this later,” she said. “We’ll leave now and then revise our plan in the car.”

  They filed out to Melody’s flash Mercedes, sliding into the leather seats and belting up as instructed by a female voice which issued from
the dashboard. The dark car started with the press of a button and slid without sound from the garage. The women sat in the front with Dane behind Sophia. She felt his foot tapping on the underside of her seat and longed to touch him. After a five-minute drive they drew up on a wide, tree-lined street in a suburb boasting a mixture of housing types from mansion to shack.

  “It’s along there.” Melody leaned towards the windscreen and pointed at a large white house with harsh angles in a contemporary design. Dane whistled.

  “Why does she need Edgar’s money if she lives here?”

  Melody cocked her head. “Perhaps she’s asset rich but cash poor. Her ex-husband might have signed the house over to her. They’re old enough to not have a mortgage, but I don’t know. I employed her because she said the money left with her husband.”

  “She’s older than you?” Dane asked aghast and Melody rolled her eyes.

  “You never visited her at home?” Sophia’s brows knitted and suspicion tugged at the edge of her consciousness.

  “Nope. Met her at Riley’s soccer game. Her boys went to the same local school until they moved up to high school this year. She only put her kids into boarding at Trenchard because I did. I believed her story. I grabbed her address from the staff records. Are we doing this?”

  They emerged from the vehicle onto Russell Street, walking ten metres to the front gate. A taxi drove past, the passenger showing enormous interest in the group. Sophia stopped and stared at the man from the flight and fear rose in her breast. “That man,” she said, urgency in her voice as she pointed. “He kept staring at us on the flight and now he’s here, in this street.”

  Dane peered at the back of the taxi and shrugged. “Didn’t see him, sorry.” He looked perplexed for a moment until Melody pushed a button on the keypad for the gate and dug him in the ribs with her elbow.

  “Game face on, dude! You’re our protection.”

  “Hello?” The crackly male voice took them by surprise.

  Melody recovered first. “I’m looking for Tahlia,” she called into the speaker. “It’s Melody Foxhall.” She glanced back at Sophia. “My son, Riley goes to school with your boys.”

  A loud click and a buzz heralded the gate opening and it slid sideways to give them entry. A tall, thin man met them on the front steps, his hand already outstretched. Long, delicate fingers folded around Melody’s. “I’m Paul Clancy,” he announced, peering at the teenagers. “Tahlia’s husband.”

  Melody looked at her companions in confusion and then gave an imperceptible shake of her head. “Is Tahlia in?” she asked, keeping her tone light. “I wanted Dane and Sophia to meet her.”

  “No.” Paul Clancy shook his head. “What a shame; she’ll be sorry she missed you. What’s your name again? I’ll tell her you called.”

  Dane stepped forward, the man’s dismissal an irritant to his sense of justice. “We need to speak with you, Mr Clancy,” he said, his blue eyes determined. Sophia ran her fingers over a crease in Dane’s smart shirt, drawing comfort from the connection as the dreaded moment arrived in a rush. “We speak to you now or we come back with the cops.”

  Paul Clancy turned, his jaw dropping in amazement. He took a step towards Dane, closing the distance between them at speed. As soon as his feet hit the driveway, his height advantage diminished but his aura felt overpowering. “What did you say?”

  Melody pushed forward, her heels clicking on the concrete like a drum roll. “Mr Clancy, your wife is having an online relationship with Sophia’s father and we’re here to put a stop to it.”

  Chapter 41

  Catfish

  “I don’t know what to say.” Paul Clancy looked pig-sick and his fingers shook as he brushed them across his upper lip for the millionth time. He glanced at the clock on the wall and Sophia followed his gaze, working out the time on a blank face with hands and no numbers. “I’m due in surgery soon.” He chewed on his bottom lip, forming decisions and reversing them.

  “I suggest you call and say you won’t be there,” Melody said, her voice calm. “We can do this without you but you need to hear your wife’s viewpoint, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. You say she worked for you part-time for six months? Are you sure it’s my wife? She’s never had a job in her life.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and Sophia felt compassion for him. A man with the intelligence and skill to take bodies apart and put them back together, seemed lost in the moment. “This is ludicrous. Phishing, you said?”

  Melody nodded. “A man’s put his home up for auction on the understanding that he’s in a relationship with Tahlia and they’re setting up home together.”

  “No.” Paul shook his head hard enough to give himself a headache. “This man’s in a relationship with you!”

  “She’s posing as me.” Melody’s voice held a steel edge. “It’s identity theft.”

  Paul shot from his seat at the sound of the garage door rumbling open on the floor below. He looked through the windows which led onto a wide wrap around balcony. His complexion switched from grey to green and then back again and he muttered to himself; a man out of his depth.

  “Paulie, I got donuts! Do you have time for some? I suppose you shouldn’t really.” Heels sounded on the stairs, clicking upwards like the countdown to something awful and Sophia held her breath. A woman walked through the archway from the stairs and halted, plastering conviviality on her face. Her eyes drifted over Dane and Sophia without wavering but the colour disappeared from her cheeks when she spotted Melody. “Oh.” She swallowed and remained silent, looking from Melody to her husband.

  “Oh?” Rage engulfed Sophia and she stood, wagging her index figure at Tahlia Clancy. “Is that all you’re gonna say? Oh!”

  “Who are you?” Mystified, the woman stared at Sophia as though she possessed two heads, her eyes flicking back to Melody at intervals.

  “I’m Edgar Armitage’s daughter,” Sophia snapped, taking two steps towards the woman. Dane stood and grabbed hold of her wrist, keeping her in place while Tahlia moved away from the stairs, dangling a limp paper bag in her hands. She set it on the coffee table and shrugged off an expensive shawl.

  “I don’t know who you mean,” she lied, her mind working on overdrive.

  “Don’t bother.” Her husband pointed to his open laptop on the kitchen counter, Edgar’s Facebook profile front and centre of the screen. “I read the messages, Tahlia! What the hell were you thinking?”

  The woman’s eyes flickered and dread set in, her fingers shaking as she spent precious moments folding her shawl and rearranging her immaculate dress. Sophia’s heart thudded in her chest and she fought the urge to rip the woman’s perfect head off. She closed her eyes against the dramatic irony; Tahlia Clancy held more grace and poise than even Melody and could have smitten Edgar on her own merits. Paul took a ragged step forward, his face filled with rage. “Why, Tahlia?” he demanded through gritted teeth. “Why?”

  She shook her head and slumped into a seat. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “It just happened. He sent his CV to the garage asking about sales jobs and she told me to write back and say thanks but no thanks.” Tahlia shot a disparaging look at Melody. “I rang him instead and he sounded nice. He asked for feedback on his CV to help him secure work somewhere else and I used her computer that day. I didn’t think about it but the email contained her details and he assumed I was the owner. He emailed back and I kept deleting them so asked if he had Facebook. He didn’t, so it didn’t matter anyway and I felt relieved; mine’s full of pictures of the boys and this house. He’d see straight away I wasn’t single.” Tahlia pushed a red manicured index finger beneath her nose as though fending off a vile smell. “He emailed back a few days later to say he’d created a profile and I didn’t know what to do. He thought I was Melody Foxhall so I used the one Riley created.” Tahlia sat up straight and tossed her long, blonde hair behind her shoulders, adopting a superior pose. “There’s not much more to say.” Her eyes darted to her husband.
“I haven’t met him in person, Paul. It’s not technically adultery.” She sniffed. “Not like you, anyway.”

  Paul Clancy jumped back as though shot and Melody exhaled a sigh. “Was it all lies?” She directed her question at Tahlia, her face blank as she waited for an answer. Who knew if what came out would be truth.

  “No.” Tahlia wiped her palms on the expensive skirt, leaving a damp streak. Sophia watched her like a hawk, feeling Dane’s grip still firm on her arm. “Paul left me for another woman last year so I asked you for work. We reconciled five months later, but I stockpiled cash in case it happened again.” She leaned forward in her seat, her expression pitiful. “It’s very frightening to invest everything and wake up to find it washed away on your husband’s latest bimbo.”

  “What about this guy?” Paul’s voice ramped up and Sophia winced. “What does he think? These people say he’s selling his house and thinks you’re in love with him. What the hell, Tahlia?”

  “I am in love with him.” Tahlia swallowed and stood, graceful legs sweeping her out of the room. She left the small company behind, staring at each other in stunned silence.

  “What now?” Dane asked, letting go of Sophia. “She’s wrecked Soph’s home life, stolen Melody’s identity and cheated on her husband in a virtual sense. What now?”