Scared Yet? (10 page)

The detective leaned back in her chair. ‘He had the affair, right?'

‘Yes.'

‘So what's he got to be miffed about?'

‘My point exactly.'

One of Rachel's eyebrows lifted a fraction. It seemed more like solidarity than amusement.

‘The notes don't prove it's someone I know,' Liv reasoned. ‘The assault could've been random and now he's upset he didn't get what he wanted.'

‘Anything's possible at this stage. I'll send these off for fingerprinting, see what we get back.'

‘How long will that take?'

‘A week, usually.'

‘A
week
?'

‘They've got to go to Sydney. There's a queue and more urgent cases get priority.'

‘What should I do in the meantime?'

‘Look, Livia, don't count on fingerprinting to resolve this. It's only one avenue of the investigation and it might not give us anything. Just make sure you handle any more of these as little as possible. Use gloves or tweezers to pick them up and put them straight into plastic.'

She didn't want more. She wanted the bastard caught. ‘So what are you doing to find him?'

Liv listened to the details of the investigation, apprehension tightening her belly. The CCTV cameras on the third level of the car park had also been vandalised so there were no pictures of the attack. No one in any of the nearby businesses or flats had seen or heard anything and, so far, there'd been no witnesses coming forward with information following the TV story.

‘I wish now I hadn't done it,' she said.

‘It tells us something, though. The reference to you lying last night suggests the sender watched you on TV. Which means there wasn't enough time for the note to be posted and arrive at your office this morning. So he either lives or works nearby or can get there easily on a weekday.'

That made sense but it didn't make her feel a whole lot better. She glanced at his messages on the detective's desk and fear prickled at her shoulders.
You should be scared.

‘How scared should I be?'

‘I can't answer that, Livia, but I want you to continue following the security measures we've already discussed. I also want to see any other notes you receive. They might help to identify the person responsible. I've got some other matters pending at the moment, so make sure you leave a message if you can't reach me and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.'

The way Rachel said it made it sound like straightforward steps to follow but the message behind it felt like a solid punch of serious-as-hell.

12

It was after midday by the time she got back and parking was impossible. She trawled the streets near the office for fifteen minutes before spotting a car space. The footpath was busy with the lunchtime crowd but instead of sensing safety in numbers, she felt wary and tense.

It's a dangerous world. Full of dangerous people, Livia.

How long had he been watching her? Was he watching her now?

She walked fast through the pack, stopping to make a quick purchase of a new phone, eventually reaching Prescott and Weeks out of breath. Ally, the dental nurse from across the corridor, was at the counter talking to Teagan and they both turned as Liv pushed through the door.

‘What did the police say?' Teagan's question was more gasp than voice.

‘Tee told me about the notes. It's awful,' Ally said.

The alarm on their faces made Liv check over her shoulder before moving away from the door. ‘The detective
just said to be careful going places on my own and call triple-0 if I'm worried.'

Ally's mouth formed an ‘oh' of shock. Teagan put a hand over hers.

‘Look, it's fine. Everything's fine in here. No one's going to walk into an office in the middle of the day and . . . and . . . do anything.'

As she said the last word, the door behind her rattled and she jumped. Ray was half in and half out, pulling his mini notebook from the top pocket of his work shirt.

‘Hi, Liv. I just saw you come in. I'm taking late lunch orders. Do you want anything?'

Most days, he did a morning coffee run and took lunch orders from the offices. It was a casual thing, no set time, no money taken. The staff in the suite ran their own tabs at Lenny's – Ray just did a quick once-around when he was ready for a break. He usually sat at the bar in the cafe and talked the waitstaff's ears off while the orders were made up, then delivered them on his way back. Liv knew the solicitor next door made good use of it. So did Ally when her boss's appointment schedule was full. Liv liked to take the walk to the cafe, an excuse to get up from her desk, but it was handy when they were busy. Ray had everyone's standard orders noted in his book, just required a shouted, ‘Yes, please', and bingo, a skim cappuccino or chicken salad, no butter, on multigrain would arrive twenty minutes later.

‘A sandwich would be great, thanks.'

He made a notation in his book, then came all the way in, shuffling about for a second or two. ‘Teagan said you've had some mail.'

Liv flicked a look at Tee – who hadn't she told? ‘Yes, a couple of notes.' She repeated the discovery of the first one and how the second one must have been hand-delivered.

Ray nodded before addressing the three of them. ‘I'm very concerned about this development. I'll be letting all the ladies in the suite know today that I'm available at any time to accompany them to their cars or bus stops.' He looked at Liv. ‘Will you be needing me this afternoon?'

She tried to match his sincerity. ‘No, thank you, Ray. But that's a very generous offer. I'm sure the others will appreciate it. Won't they, Teagan?' She looked pointedly at her. A don't-you-dare-laugh. If she taught Tee nothing else, she'd learn the value of being courteous in business.

‘Yes, very generous, thanks.'

As the door swung shut behind him, Tee and Ally giggled quietly.

‘Give him a break, girls,' Liv told them.

She went to her office, inserted her SIM card into the new phone and found a text message waiting.

Can you be home at 3.45? Daniel.

She cheered silently, sent one back:
Yes. Thank you. Again!

Liv waited at Kelly's door until she looked up from her screen. ‘Why don't I take a look at Neil's report while you're working? I can ask any questions later.'

Kelly blinked, took a second or two to stare blankly, as though her mind was still on the Toby Wright proposal and she needed to wait for the words to filter through. ‘Oh, sure. I thought it'd be better if we went over it together but . . .' She rolled her chair sideways, rifled through her
in-tray. ‘I mean, you'll probably make sense of the figures, but it might be better if . . .' she fingered through some documents beside the computer, ‘. . . you know, if we can talk as we go.' She stood and opened her briefcase on the desk, spent thirty seconds shuffling through the contents. Then she looked over the top at Liv. ‘I must've left it at home. Sorry.'

Liv frowned. ‘Why did you take it home?'

‘Well, I was going to talk to you about it over the phone but Bess had homework problems and it got late and I couldn't think straight anymore.' She made a face. It was apologetic but it seemed a little blasé.

It was their accountant's report, the one they needed to work out how to dig themselves out of their financial hole. There was nothing to be blasé about. ‘You're sure it was okay?'

‘We've got options. They're all laid out in the report.'

Liv dragged teeth over her bottom lip, not sure what to think.

‘Why don't you go home now? You look exhausted,' Kelly said.

She'd taken painkillers and attempted to trawl through emails and invoices without much forward progress. ‘I should make some calls first.'

‘Not in the state you're in. Anyone you talk to will think you're dying.'

Liv leaned on the doorjamb and let out a sigh. ‘I feel like I should be doing something. Not going home.'

‘You should be resting, not worrying.'

‘But . . .'

‘Liv, go home,' Kelly said as she rounded her desk. She looked as if she was ready to walk her out the door if she didn't do it herself. ‘You'll be able to do more tomorrow if you take a break now.'

Kelly was right, Liv knew she was. It didn't stop her feeling guilty about all the time away from the office this week. ‘Okay. I'll go.'

‘Do you want to come around later? For dinner? I could pick you up on the way home.'

That would require conversation and decent table manners instead of pyjamas in front of the telly. And with any luck, she'd have new locks by then and could fall asleep on the lounge without the fear of home invasion. ‘Thanks, but I'll pass. I need sleep more than a decent meal.'

Park Street was quieter when she left. She walked on the inside of the footpath, close to the shopfronts, feeling more secure with solid buildings on one side of her. But as she passed the bakery and a menswear store and a chemist, she started to wonder about their plate glass windows. Maybe the man who attacked her worked behind one. Or maybe he could push her hard up against one, thrust a knife in her gut and be gone before anyone saw a thing. The thought made her move to the centre of the footpath and hold her handbag across her chest.

Her father was asleep when she got to his room. She pulled a chair up to the bed, eased quietly into it and watched him. The deep lines in his well-worn face were as familiar and
comforting as ever. Today there seemed to be a softness to them that she hadn't seen in a while, as though the cancer had loosened its hold on him in his sleep, letting him regain enough strength for another round. She ran a finger across his forehead, gently so as not to wake him, feeling the warmth of his skin, wanting to gather him in her arms and hold him close.

It had been going on so long now. He'd been admitted six weeks after Thomas left, held on months longer than expected. She didn't know anymore whether to wish him strength or pray for surrender.

No, that wasn't true. Liv wanted him to hold on. It was selfish, she knew. He was in constant pain and his body had withered more than she believed possible for a man of his size. But she didn't want him to go. Didn't want to lose anyone else. Didn't want to be alone.

Daniel was sitting in a four-wheel drive at the kerb when Liv arrived at the townhouse. The big, dark vehicle followed her up the driveway and by the time she'd parked in the garage and walked back to it, he had a clipboard in his hand and was surveying the property like a real estate agent – except for the clothes. The suit was gone and he was in dark, heavy-duty work trousers and shirt with huge, thick-soled boots. He looked more comfortable than he did in a tie and a whole lot more like a door-busting firefighter than any consultant she'd ever seen. It reminded her why so many women swooned over firemen.

‘I didn't expect
you
.' Liv glanced into the rear compartment of his car, saw it was loaded with boxes like the ones stacked in his office.

He looked along the pathway that led around the back of the townhouse. ‘I couldn't get anyone else so I found some extra time.'

She felt a quick pulse of guilt. He'd already done enough. She wanted to tell him she could find someone else – but she wasn't an idiot. ‘Thank you. Again.'

‘I heard about the notes,' he said as he walked back to her.

‘Teagan must have sent out a newsletter to all occupants.'

‘No, I heard it from Rachel Quest.'

Liv frowned. ‘Did she call you about them?'

‘No, she wanted to check some of the details in my statement.'

She watched as he made a note on his clipboard. ‘How well do you know her?' she asked.

‘We worked on a couple of fire investigations together.'

‘Is she any good? Some of her questions are a little . . . off base.'

‘She's been around, she knows how to handle a case.'

‘She seems really busy.'

He shrugged. ‘All cops are busy.'

Too busy to fit Liv's stalker into her schedule? ‘Okay, well, where do you want to start?'

She took him all the way around the townhouse, the dog in the yard behind barking as they crossed the courtyard. Daniel made no comments, just followed and looked, up
and down, back and forth. She guessed she was getting the full security treatment.

At the front door, he stood beside the removalists' boxes and gave the room the once-over. ‘When did you move in?'

‘A month ago.'

‘Tough month to get beaten up.'

‘You got that right.'

She pointed out the loose fit on the front door, the dodgy latch on the back sliding door, the lack of any lock on the kitchen window. Then she led the way upstairs, gave him a brief tour of her room and the bathroom. He paused in the doorway of Cameron's bedroom. It was the only room she'd paid any attention to. She'd painted it deep green, hung curtains, found matching sheets and bedcovers, organised shelves and his sports gear.

‘Your son likes soccer, huh?' Daniel was looking at the poster of David Beckham in full flight but the soccer boots and balls were the real giveaway.

‘He thinks he's going to play in the English Premier League.'

‘What kid doesn't?' He grinned.

It sounded like experience. She considered the fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes and guessed he was in his mid-thirties. Possibly she had a year or two on him. Possibly she just felt old. But he was plenty old enough to have kids playing soccer. ‘Have you got children?'

‘Three nieces and four nephews.' He said it like it was an accomplishment.

‘Almost a soccer team.' She imagined seven unnaturally tall children running around a pitch and felt a sudden
tap of longing for her only child to live in his room long enough to mess it up. She turned away and left Daniel to it.

‘Okay,' he began when he was back in the lounge room, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. ‘I've got the locks you need in the car but you've got a couple of other security issues.' He told her the packing boxes at the front door and in the hall upstairs reduced line of sight and would make it difficult to move around quickly in an emergency. The ones in the garage could provide cover for an intruder and should be stacked against the wall. She also needed better lighting outside, the hedge in the driveway cut back and full-length window coverings in the lounge room. ‘I'll start with the locks downstairs and get the lower level secured then move up top.'

Secure was what she wanted. ‘Great.'

As he left to collect gear from his car, she took a look in the fridge at options for dinner. Cheese and tomato on crackers or cheese and gherkins on crackers. In the silence, she heard a faint trill from her bag on the counter. She dug her new phone out, checked the caller ID and swore under her breath.