The Girl Who Never : A twisted crime

by HC Michaels

  “Let’s see what we can get you,” she said, hurrying to the pantry so Amelia didn’t see the tears stinging her eyes.

  Amelia climbed onto one of the high stools and waited to be served.

  “How about a cheese sandwich and if you eat all that up, I’ll take you to the ice-cream shop?”

  “I want to go with Nonno.” Amelia looked at her with her lips pursed.

  “Okay, you can go with Nonno.”

  Baby steps. They’d get there with some patience and time. Little by little, she’d get her daughter back—assuming she’d ever really had her in the first place.

  No matter what happened with Tino or Tessa or her father and his chimeras, things were going to be all right.

  She might not have her first-born daughter, but she had her second. She owed it to Amelia to stop treating her like she wasn’t enough. With all that had gone wrong in this family, that was her only crime. But her eyes were open now and she intended to make things right.

  She could never replace Bianca, but she didn’t have to. Amelia was her own person and Elvira loved her with all her heart.

  Paul went straight to the fridge when he got home and opened a can of Coke.

  The cool liquid ran down the back of his throat and he decided he’d need to run a few extra kilometres to burn off all those calories. It would be worth it, though. He needed a sugar hit.

  While he’d been on the flight, he had two missed calls from that detective. He’d call him back later. Or maybe he’d wait for him to call again. He’d had enough of thinking about murder and family and Sunshine Bloody Island for the moment.

  He just hoped he wasn’t a suspect again. But why else would the detective be calling? And twice for that matter. He was clearly eager to get a hold of him.

  His phone buzzed on the kitchen bench, and he jumped, relieved to see it was only a text message.

  Glad you made it home safely. I’ll call you later xx

  Francesca.

  He rolled his eyes, scolding himself for not turning that tracking app off just yet. He’d gone to do it once and got distracted. Maybe he should just do it now.

  He picked up his phone and scrolled through to the app, yawning.

  But then another thought lit his mind, and instead of clicking into the app, he dialled Fran’s number.

  She picked it up on the first ring.

  “Hey, I said I’d call you later,” she snapped. “I’m just about to pick Joseph up from school.”

  “It’s quick,” he said. “And important.”

  “Okay…” There was a click as Fran’s phone connected to her car. “What is it? Oh, before you tell me, how’s your hand?”

  “It’s healing fine,” he said.

  “I still think you should’ve gotten stitches,” she said. “I need to throw that knife away before someone loses a hand.”

  “Fran—”

  “Sorry!” The sound of her garage door squeaking closed came through the phone. “What did you call for?”

  “Were you by any chance looking at my location last Thursday night?” he asked. “Or Sunday night? You know, the first night I was on the island.”

  “Paul!” she said on a sigh. “I do have a life, you know. I don’t just sit there watching where everyone in the family is at all hours.”

  “It’s important, Fran,” he said. “Like, really important. Were you looking at the app on those nights? Thursday night or Sunday night.”

  “No, Paul!” She sounded annoyed. “I told you I’m busy! What is this about, anyway? You haven’t been arrested for those murders, have you?”

  He hesitated. “No…”

  “Oh my God,” she cried. “Paul! What’s going on?”

  “I just need to know if you were looking at my location,” he said. “It’s probably the most important thing I will ever ask you, so I need you to tell me the truth. I promise not to get mad or judge you.”

  “What time?” she asked, quietly.

  “Just after midnight,” he said, hoping that at least one of those nights his sister was up late cooking or catching up on The Bachelor. “Fran?”

  “I’m thinking!” she said. “Umm, Sunday night you flew in in the afternoon and went straight to your apartment where you stayed all night, apart from what looked like one of your late-night runs.”

  “Did you see where I ran?” he asked, both relieved and annoyed.

  “Just around near your apartment,” she said. “Didn’t look like you went that far.”

  “Did I go anywhere near the resort pool?”

  “That’s the other side of the island, isn’t it?” she confirmed.

  He bit down on his lip. “Yes.”

  “No, you didn’t go there.”

  “So, I went back to my apartment and stayed there?” he asked, getting excited. “And what about Thursday night?”

  “Oh, Paul, you were everywhere on Thursday night.” Sadness crept into her voice. “Everywhere except the apartment. I was so worried about you. I just knew you and Elvira must have had a fight.”

  “Did you see me at any of the hotels?” he asked.

  “Only very briefly. I think you were travelling by buggy as you were moving fast. But then…” She lowered her voice. “It looked like you slept on the beach.”

  “Fran?” Hope filled his chest.

  “Yes?”

  He smiled. “You are without doubt the nosiest sister on the face of the Earth, but do you know what else?”

  “What?” She sounded worried.

  “I really, really love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she gushed. “And Paul, I’m sorry if I got a bit carried away with that app. I promise not to look at it so much. I think I got addicted.”

  “No!” he said. “Please, stalk me as much as you like. I mean it. Watch my every move for the rest of my life. Please.”

  She laughed. “Paul, I’m far too busy for that.”

  Normally, he’d pull her up on her contradiction, but not this time. Because now he had his alibi.

  He didn’t kill Lena. He’d never even met the woman. And he loved Tessa like a sister. There’s no way he’d do anything to hurt her.

  He hung up from Fran and dialled Detective Hooke.

  Now, he was ready to talk.

  Darcy paced by Tessa’s bedside, having insisted his parents go back to their accommodation for a rest. They’d barely left the hospital since they arrived. It wasn’t healthy.

  Tessa hadn’t been able to tell the police very much so far. Darcy knew as he’d been listening to every word. Well, every word that he could. That detective didn’t seem to like him very much and tried to push him out the door at every opportunity. Didn’t he realise that what Tessa said was going to have a huge impact on her family? It was his right to listen in.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he smiled to see it was his wife, Darcy.

  “Hey, babe.” He waited to hear her voice.

  “How’s Tessa?” she asked, not even pausing to say hello.

  “Same,” he said. “Physically a little better maybe.”

  “Can she hear you?” Darcy asked.

  He looked at his sister with her eyes closed and knew that was no indication of whether or not she was asleep.

  “Not sure,” he answered.

  “When are you coming home?” Darcy’s voice softened. “I miss you.”

  “Not until we know who did this,” he said. “Or at the very least until we can bring Tessa back with us.”

  “Does she need you there as well as your parents?” His wife’s voice held just short of nagging.

  “Darce, I know it sucks to be apart so soon after our wedding, but I can’t leave her.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he pushed them back. “I just wish we’d spent more time with her in Mykonos. Why did we leave so soon after the wedding?”

  “You know why,” she giggled. “And wasn’t it worth it?”

  He smiled. “It was.”

  “Hey, I need to tell you something,
but I don’t want you to upset Tessa,” she said. “Maybe step out of the room for a second.”

  “Okay.” He paused but stayed where he was, certain there was nothing Darcy could tell him that would upset him.

  “I had a phone call from a Detective Hooke,” she said. “He wanted to know where you were on some dates.”

  “What the hell!” Darcy left the room for real this time, aware his face had turned purple. “I told him I was with you. I wasn’t even in the county when Tessa got…hurt.”

  “But we were in Mykonos when that woman was murdered,” she said.

  “Yes, and we just talked about what I was doing there,” he said. “I never left your side.”

  It was true. They’d practically followed each other to the bathroom. He’d had about as much time to wander off and murder someone as he had to spend time with his sister. Which was no time at all.

  “Darcy, I know you didn’t do it,” his wife said. “And I told the detective that. I think he was just checking everything out to get a clear picture. If you think about it, that’s a good thing. It means he’s being thorough.”

  He drew in a deep breath as he glanced around the hallway of the hospital. She was right. Being thorough was a good thing. Especially given he had nothing to hide.

  The only reason he was listening so closely to everything the detective said had nothing to do with any crimes he’d committed in the past. It was for a crime he planned to commit in the future.

  Because when he found out who put his sister in that hospital bed, he was going to set things right.

  Roberto was sitting on his balcony when his phone rang. Amelia was taking a nap and Elvira had gone to the supermarket to buy some things for dinner.

  “Hello,” he said, picking up the phone.

  “Roberto, good to get hold of you,” said a deep voice. “It’s Detective Hooke. Have you got a moment?”

  “I got many moments,” said Roberto. “Did you find out about the chimera?”

  “I did, actually.” The detective cleared his throat. “And it seems I owe you an apology.”

  “Tell me,” said Roberto, not interested in wasting time on apologies. “There chimera here, yes?”

  “I can’t tell you any specifics right now,” said the detective. “But it seems like it might be a possibility. We’re making progress with our investigations.”

  Roberto punched a fist in the air as he stood. “I tells you my son is innocence! I tells you there a chimera!”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” said the detective. “We haven’t made any arrests just yet.”

  It was far too late for that. Roberto was grinning so wide his cheeks ached. People had been laughing at him. He knew that. But he was going to be the one laughing when he got his son back.

  “I just have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind,” the detective said, breaking into his joy.

  “Ask!” Roberto said. “Go, ask anything. What you need?”

  “Your wife’s death…” The detective seemed to struggle with these words. “When it happened, you told us there was nothing suspicious about it. Have you remembered anything else about it that you might want to share?”

  The smile fell from Roberto’s face as his shoulders slumped.

  “She fell down the stairs,” he said. “Nobody fault.”

  “Was she usually steady on her feet?” the detective asked.

  Roberto nodded. “She was fitter than ever in her life.”

  “Okay.” The detective didn’t sound convinced. “Just one more thing.”

  “Yes?” Roberto sat back down in his chair and waited.

  “How did you meet Logan Ferguson?” he asked. “And when was the last time you had contact with him?”

  Roberto’s eyes opened wide as he clutched at his heart.

  First Bianca died, then Carina. Then his son was locked up like an animal while his daughter tried to kill herself.

  Now the police wanted to know about Logan. A guy who’d been more like a son recently than his own flesh and blood. They needed to keep their hands off him.

  “No!” said Roberto. “This talk is over! You leave me and my family alone. Understand?”

  “All I’m asking—”

  Roberto hung up the phone, his finger pressing the red circle so hard the screen cracked.

  Logan answered the door with a bowl of cereal in his hand despite the late hour. He was genuinely surprised to see a man with a police badge clipped to his shirt pocket.

  “Can I help you?” He concentrated on slowing his breathing.

  “I’m Detective Hooke,” the cop said. “Are you Logan Ferguson?”

  Logan nodded cautiously. This guy already knew full well who he was.

  “I have a couple of questions,” said the detective, pushing forward. “May I come in?”

  “Sure.” Logan stepped back, wondering if he was legally obliged to cooperate. Although, if he didn’t, it was going to raise all kinds of suspicions. Better to see what this detective wanted first. He could be here about anything. There was no need to panic just yet.

  “You’re not an easy bloke to find,” said Detective Hooke as he walked down the hallway as if he owned the place.

  Not even Logan owned this place. He’d rented it for a couple of weeks and paid in cash with the money Roberto had refused to accept from him. It was an old farmhouse in Samford, about half an hour out of Brisbane.

  “How did you know I was here?” he asked. “And why were you looking for me, anyway?”

  “Just wanting to check on your movements over the past couple of weeks.” The detective was ignoring his questions. He’d dropped the smile from his face, too.

  “Take a seat,” Logan said a few seconds after the detective had perched on one of the wooden stools at the kitchen counter.

  “Thanks.” The detective set down his notebook. “I’m just going to need to verify where you were on a few dates. Let’s start with…” The detective scrolled down his calendar with his fingertip. “Why don’t we just start with last week and move forward from there?”

  Logan filled a glass with water and gulped it down. “I’ve been here all week, and last week I was with my mother in Brisbane.”

  “That’s strange.” The detective frowned. “Because your mother seems to think she hasn’t seen you in over a year.”

  “Her memory isn’t so great,” said Logan. “That’s not really surprising. If you met her, then I’m sure you’d agree she’s not exactly a reliable witness.”

  “Been to Sunshine Island lately?” The detective locked eyes with him.

  “I’ve been working there,” said Logan, smiling. “But I think you already knew that.”

  “Where do you work, Logan?” the detective asked.

  Logan pushed down the sick feeling in his gut. “I think you know that, too.”

  “I’d prefer it if you tell me.” The detective closed his folder.

  “I’m a cleaner,” said Logan, rolling his eyes.

  “So, you don’t work on a yacht?” The detective kept his gaze on Logan as if he could read his mind. “Because I heard that’s what you tell everyone. Where do you clean, exactly?”

  Logan swallowed. “At a hotel.”

  “The same one where there was an attack on a young woman last week?” The detective picked up his phone and pressed a button.

  Logan’s heart picked up a heavy thumping rhythm as he sealed his lips. He’d already said too much.

  He took a step back towards the door. Who the hell was this pig calling?

  “Get in here,” the detective barked down the phone.

  “I want a lawyer,” said Logan, taking another step back.

  “Oh, you’re going to need one, all right.” The detective leapt from his chair and marched towards him. “In the meantime, you’re coming with us.”

  Logan looked up to see who exactly us was. A bloke in a police uniform was standing in the doorway. It figured that a chicken shit like this Detective Hooke woul
dn’t travel alone.

  “Is he coming the easy way, or the hard way?” the uniformed pig asked.

  “Well, that’s up to him,” said Hooke. “We like to give people a choice in how we treat them. Unlike the way he treated that nanny…”

  “That’s harassment,” said Logan. “You can’t talk to me like that.”

  “Doesn’t feel very good, does it?” Hooke squared shoulders with him.

  It would feel so good to kick this pig in the nuts. Assuming he had any. But that would only go against him in the end.

  “Think he’s decided to go the hard way,” the detective said, smiling.

  “Oh goodie,” said the other one, taking hold of him roughly by his arms and bending them behind his back.

  Logan tried to focus on stopping his legs from shaking. How dare they take such pleasure in this.

  Sick pricks.

  He tried to free himself. “You’re hurting me!”

  “Oh, sorry about that,” said the cop, squeezing harder as he slipped some cuffs onto his wrists.

  He wasn’t fuckin’ sorry. The only one sorry here was him. Sorry he hadn’t tried harder to cover his tracks. He’d gotten too bloody cocky once Tino had been locked up.

  That bitch must’ve seen him. He knew he should’ve killed her while he had the chance.

  He was just too soft, that was his problem. Now he was going to pay the price for being too bloody nice. Why didn’t these cops get out there and catch some real criminals for a change?

  Twelve Months After The Break

  Tessa tightened the belt on her coat, wishing it covered her whole body and not just her torso. If it covered her head as well that would be good. At least she could hide part of her face behind her mask.

  She looked across the Tube carriage at a woman in a burqa and felt envious. How safe it must feel underneath the protection of those robes. Perhaps she could consider getting one. Would that be disrespectful to Muslims? She didn’t want to disrespect anyone. If her experience at the hands of Logan had taught her anything, it was the importance of respect.