Re-Runners First Life: A Time Travel Suspense Series (9 page)

Chapter 18

1997

A working day for Dylan March started at 5am with a run through the semi-dark streets of Potts Point, on to the Rocks then home again. It cleared his head for the day and kept him fit. He was usually at work by 7.30am. Phillipa slept in a separate bedroom suite and didn’t get up until at least 9am, so they rarely saw each other before 9pm at night, when he returned home from the office.

His relationship with his wife had sunk to a new low. Their persistent arguing or long sessions of cold indifference were a constant thing, but this morning’s blaze was monumental. For once Phillipa was up when he got back from his morning run.

She had started on her usual litany of how bad her life was in comparison to her wealthy friends; how it was his fault she was pitied and felt belittled by their middle class station in life, when Dylan’s cool finally blew. Usually he held his temper when faced with his wife’s fault-finding and never-ending complaints, but not today.

He rounded on her in fury, ‘You have a life most would envy and still you’re never satisfied. You are the most miserable and self-centered woman I have ever known and I don’t know how it is I didn’t see that from the beginning. I don’t want
this
anymore.’ He opened his arms and encompassed the room and her. ‘I’ve had enough, Phillipa. We’re finished. It’s over.’

Phillipa was shocked into silence. Usually Dylan ignored her or walked away. It annoyed her she could never get under his skin. She could often see the anger, but his control was absolute ... and when it wasn’t, he would leave and drive around until he cooled down. He never yelled at her –
never
.

He stopped to take a breath and in a calmer voice, ‘I’ll move my things out tonight.’

Dylan walked from the room with Phillipa’s strained voice following him, ‘Dylan, you don’t mean that.
Dylan
?’

ooooo

Dylan dragged his feet leaving the office that night. He had every intention of carrying through with his decision to leave his marriage and while it would upset his staunchly Catholic family, he’d already disappointed them enough when he changed his name.

He had called earlier to arrange a room at the Hilton. All he had to do was go home, pack a small bag and get there. The sense of relief was overshadowed by the probability he would face another scathing session with Phillipa, but he was determined to hold his tongue this time and get out as quickly as possible.

The flashing lights of the ambulance were visible from a kilometer away. It wasn’t until he was almost on top of it; Dylan realized the vehicle was in front of his apartment complex. Next he saw Phillipa’s parents; her mother bending over the pale figure on the gurney, her husband pulling her back so the ambulance bearers could do their job.

Bile rose in his throat as a sickening wave of panic washed over him. He double parked the BMW and ran to the ambulance. Phillipa lay on the gurney, her face deathly white. A police officer grabbed his arm, ‘Sir ...’

Dylan shrugged him off, ‘I’m her husband.’

Hearing his voice Phillipa’s mother turned on him and sobbed, ‘What have you done? What have you done to make her do this?’

Dylan dragged his attention from Phillipa to her mother, ‘What? What happened?’

‘She tried to kill herself. She telephoned us. You weren’t home,’ she spoke in short bursts, between gasps for breath.

John Townsend looked at Dylan with steel in his eyes, but only said, ‘Go in the ambulance with her. Give me your keys. We’ll meet you at the hospital.’

Dylan took a moment to register what he was saying, ‘What? Yes ... yes,’ he nodded, digging his keys from his pocket and handing them to John. Then, with his head still fuzzy from shock, he climbed into the rear of the ambulance.

ooooo

Phillipa had overdosed on sleeping pills, but phoned her parents at the last moment. Had she really meant to harm herself? Dylan didn’t know; but he did know he couldn’t have her death on his conscience.

He sat in the waiting room of the emergency department with John and Sonia Townsend while the doctors worked on Phillipa; Sonia’s quiet sobbing tearing at his guilt.

Jacket discarded, shirt sleeves rolled up and face strained, Dylan leaned forward, elbows resting on thighs, as he ran his hands through his hair.
God, I didn’t want her dead, I just didn’t want to live with her anymore.
But he knew in his heart that was no longer an option.

When Phillipa was released three days later, Dylan was there to pick her up and bring her home. He also had news for her. He had arranged to sell his majority share of the business to his partners and he would be joining Baker Townsend the following week.

Real tears gathered in Phillipa’s eyes. ‘Oh Dylan, this will be a wonderful new start for us. You’ll see. I’m so happy; so very happy.’

Chapter 19

2000

‘Kate,’ the voice called out her name. Kate recognized her sister’s voice.
What is she doing here?
Quickly changing direction, she entered a partially obscured alleyway known to locals.

Since resigning from her job and moving further out of the city, Kate rarely saw her family. She phoned them occasionally, but had avoided meeting anyone for the last eight months. She used the excuse she was busy with her new job and that she and Eric had such a large circle of friends, their weekends were full. But of course it wasn’t the truth.

Kate hid behind an industrial dumpster and waited. Her sister had no reason to be in this part of town, if not to look for her. She couldn’t let Cynthia see her, not like this. Several minutes went by before she cautiously crept from her hiding spot and started to walk back the way she had come. It was a sunny but cool day. She tilted her chin down, pulled the brim of her cap lower and adjusted her sun glasses. Only a short distance to the bus stop. She should be OK.

She hadn’t told anyone from her old life where they lived now. The housing commission apartment block was a world away from the lovely house she used to rent, but it was similar to most others in this low income, working suburb. Since the money had run out and all her savings spent by Eric on gadgets and expensive boy toys, this was all they could afford.

Someone grabbed her arm and spun her around, ‘Stop, Kate. It’s me, Cyn.’

An involuntary cry burst from Kate as she covered Cynthia’s hand where it had hit one of her injuries. Cynthia only hesitated for a second before pulling the sleeve of the sloppy cardigan up to her sister’s elbow. Bruises covered her forearm, some old and yellowing, some fresh. Cynthia took hold of her other arm, as Kate struggled against her, ‘Leave me alone. What do you think you’re doing?’ The second arm was as bad as the first.

‘I knew it,’ Cynthia cursed, ‘That bastard has been hurting you.’

‘No,’ Kate pushed her away. ‘It’s my job. I bruise easily. It’s my job.’

‘So what are you doing now?’ Cynthia scrutinized her with wary eyes, ‘Certainly no lab work around here. I’ve looked.’

Kate backed away and pulled her sleeves down, ‘You’re checking up on me now?’

‘Of course I’m checking up on you. We’re all so worried about you, Kate. We haven’t seen you, we rarely hear from you... and now I know why. There is no job and there are no friends, are there?’

‘I do have a job,’ countered Kate. ‘I clean offices at night.’

‘What? You’re a scientist, Kate. You’re cleaning offices?’ she shook her head.

‘There’s nothing wrong with cleaning. It’s honest work.’

‘No, there’s nothing wrong with it,’ answered Cynthia, ‘but I know why you’ve chosen to work in places where you won’t have to face people.’ She suddenly reached up and snatched the sunglasses from Kate’s face. Her right eye was swollen shut and there was a cut above her temple.

Cynthia sobbed and tried to hug her younger sister, ‘Oh Kate, we have to go to the police. He’s a monster.’

Kate pushed her away, ‘He is not a monster. He doesn’t mean it. He gets frustrated when he can’t keep a job and then he drinks.’ The tears started streaming down her face as she carefully replaced her glasses and looked around to see who was listening. ‘He needs me, Cyn. I’m the only one who can help him. He’s so sorry afterwards. He doesn’t mean it. He truly loves me, he does.’

‘Bullshit,’ Cynthia replied angrily, ‘I’m speaking to John.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ screamed Kate. ‘You hurt Eric and I’ll never speak to any of you ever again. I’ll never see you again. Don’t you dare tell John.’ She gave Cynthia a hard push and turned and ran down the street.

Cynthia collapsed on the bus seat and ignoring the curious stares, sobbed her heart out.

Chapter 20

NINE ELEVEN 2001

The squad room was silent except for the sound of the TV and the quiet sobbing of a female police officer. Every eye was fixed in shock on the screen, as the events happening in New York and Washington played out before them. Several officers and detectives were frantically trying to make calls to loved ones in those devastated cities.

The replay of American Airlines Flight 11 crashing into the North Tower of the World Trade Centre and fifteen minutes later the hijacked United Airlines jet hitting the South Tower, played over and over as the reports and footage on the ground were televised as fast as possible to a stunned and horrified world.

Pete Sutton and Marc Perez watched in silence along with the rest of their team. Before the news of the terrorist attacks, they had arrived early, going over the scant amount of evidence they had in the
le Segador
murders. There had been a feeling of urgency as there always was when it had been over a year since the serial killer had struck. He was due again soon and they knew it, but the frustration was they were no closer to finding him than they had ever been. He was a ghost ... an evil, sick ghost and they couldn’t touch him.

But the sudden and terrible news from New York had put everything else out of their minds and all investigating was frozen.

It was some hours later as Perez and Sutton sat together in silence, when Pete said what they were both thinking. ‘They will pull all our resources from us. Everything will be on National Security now. They’ll be looking for a terrorist under every bush and the
Reaper
will be put on the back burner.’

Perez simply looked at his partner and nodded in agreement. Then they gathered their gear and headed for home. It was a time to be with family. Marc to his wife and daughters and Pete to Julie. It had been a monumental day.