The Delta Chain (3 page)

‘Five minutes,’ she called back. She’d been
checking the roast and now she replaced the lid of the pot and
checked her watch. Costas was half an hour late. Where was he?

It was six years since Barbara's husband had
walked out on her and Joey, for a younger woman. Barbara had been
thirty-eight at the time and, at first, hadn’t expected to have
another relationship. She didn’t consider herself attractive, and
she’d been filled with apprehension at the mere thought of dating.
And, of course, she had her hands full as a single parent.

Costas Yannous ran the local delicatessen,
and Barbara had known him for a few years. She shopped there once a
week and she always enjoyed her chats with him, chats which often
lasted twenty minutes or more. She was both surprised and pleased
when Costas asked her out. Costas, a widower with one grown up son
who'd moved away, was late forties, good looking in a big, cuddly
bear kind of way. He had an easy, down to earth manner, which
always put Barbara at ease.

They'd been dating three months. They usually
went to the local club or movie theatre on a Saturday night, and
Costas would come over to Barbara’s for dinner once or twice during
the week. He would always arrange a time to arrive and he was
always punctual. That was the kind of man he was.

‘We're not waiting for Costas until we eat,
are we, Mum?’ Joey shouted from his room.

‘Yes, we are.’

‘But Mum-’

‘That's quite enough, Joey.’

The one thing that disappointed Barbara was
her son’s negative reaction to Costas. Costas genuinely liked Joey
and made every effort to talk to him, include him in conversations,
offering to take him out to play games or watch sports - the kinds
of things Joey loved. He always went along to watch Joey’s
basketball games on the weekends. But her son remained surly and
difficult where Costas was concerned.

She hoped Joey’s attitude would begin to
soften, but so far there'd been no sign of that. With a sigh she
cast the thought aside and went to the phone to call Costas, a
sudden sense of unease welling up inside her.

Kate Kovacs was in Adam’s apartment when he
returned. ‘Hello, stranger,’ she called from the kitchen, her back
to him as she checked the vegetable stew on the hot plate.

He came into the kitchen behind her, his arms
circling her tiny waist, his face nuzzling the nape of her neck.
‘Who's a stranger?’

‘Weren't you due in half an hour ago?’

‘I was called away from the stadium,’ he
said, and he told her briefly about the girl on the beach.

‘Does that job of yours ever end?’

‘I guess not.’

‘Long day, so you're going to need a good
feed. Agree?’

‘Agree.’

‘So sit down and look extremely grateful
while I serve.’

They sipped on chilled white wine as they
shared the meal and Adam told her a little about the rough and
ready group of boys that had been thrown together as a team. He’d
always loved the game of basketball and was looking forward to the
fun and the challenge of working with this group of youngsters. He
didn’t elaborate any further on his earlier mention of the drowned
girl and Kate didn't ask.

That was one of the things Adam liked about
this young woman. When he was with her he was able to switch off
completely from the job and enjoy her company. It was a long time
since he’d been able to do that. An earlier, long-term relationship
with a female police officer, back in his constable days, had been
fairly intense but not much fun. She'd always been talking shop,
and they’d often disagreed on police matters. That particular young
woman had long since moved to another posting.

After the meal Kate dashed into the kitchen
to make coffee.

‘You're really spoiling me tonight,’ Adam
called after her. ‘So what's with all this special attention?’

‘Every now and then I get these rushes of
domesticity, y’know, the ol’ cookin’ and cleanin’ for your man.’
This last phrase delivered with a country music twang. ‘Enjoy it
while it lasts. There’s usually long periods of rampant feminism in
between these girlie bursts.’

He laughed, and watched her as she strode
back in, mugs of the steaming liquid in each hand. She had a soft,
silken beauty, large brown eyes and olive skin. Her collar length
blonde hair had a tousled look to it.

He liked her natural energy. Her perky face
leant itself easily to emotive expressions and her voice held just
a touch of huskiness.

Adam had met her just three weeks before when
he’d been called out to the Westmeyer Institute at the northern end
of the Northern Rocks coastal strip

The institute had been established in the
town just twelve months earlier, and in recent months had an
intruder alarm system installed that was linked directly to the
police station. Whilst such systems had become increasingly regular
in the cities, it was far less usual in regional areas. But then
few regional areas had an international state-of-the-art medical
research facility nearby, as was now the case with Northern Rocks.
John Harrison had been on duty that evening and Adam had been
working back, catching up on paperwork. The’'d gone rushing to the
institute only to discover it was a false alarm - just the latest
incident in a series of mishaps and system crashes within the
institute's computer operating network.

Adam and John had been met at the front gate
by the institute’s security chief, Tony Collosimo, who’d gruffly
apologised for the false alarm. ‘Our IT lady is here and she’s
fixed the problem,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘She’s
established that the alarm was activated by another of these damn
virus problems we’ve been having.’

William Westmeyer himself had come across,
with the IT consultant, from the main building. He introduced
himself to the officers and made his apologies but Adam found it
hard to take his eyes off the young woman who accompanied him.
Westmeyer introduced Kate, and said, ‘With any luck, gentlemen,
Kate here will solve all our systems problems so that something
like this won’t happen again.’

‘We've had a few problems of our own with the
police computer,’ Harrison said, ‘could use some help of our own,
couldn’t we, Adam?’

Adam had to agree. ‘Unfortunately we need to
rely on the regional head office to send out their boffins when we
experience serious system faults.’

‘I'm sure Miss Kovacs could assist,
compliments of the institute, Detective,’ Westmeyer offered. He was
a tall, broad shouldered man, smooth and articulate in manner.

‘No problem,’ Kate added, ‘in fact, I’d love
a tour of the station when the chance arises.’

The Northern Rocks police station wasn’t
huge, and the computers were basic PC desktops for data entry and
information retrieval. Without compromising any internal security,
Adam had shown Kate around the station the following week, and
she’d shown Adam and a few of the officers some admin ‘tricks’ for
using their systems more effectively.

Adam and Kate shared a pub counter lunch that
day which led, a few nights later, to a dinner date at the local
seafood restaurant. Over oysters kilpatrick and a mouth watering
lobster dish, Adam learned that, in addition to computer
troubleshooting, Kate’s other great love was gourmet cooking, and
she arranged to visit Adam’s apartment the following week to
prepare and share a home meal. ‘Normally,’ she said, ‘I don't offer
to cook for a man until the third dinner date.’

‘And you’ll be cooking for me on the second.’
Adam picked up the rhythm of the humour. ‘I'm honoured.’

‘Consider yourself in the elite. But be
warned, these relationships that get fast-tracked can also burn out
before their time.’ They laughed together. But Adam found himself
hoping that wouldn't be the case where he and Kate were
concerned.

Costas had arrived home shivering, fully
intending to step under a hot shower. Instead he draped himself
with a blanket and sat on the worn lounge in his small fibro and
tile cottage, staring blankly at the wall.

The sudden shrill ring of the phone startled
him. He reached over to it. ‘Yes?’

‘Costas. Why aren’t you here?’

He felt a wave of nausea rising from the pit
of his stomach. ‘Sorry, Barbara. Stayed fishing too long.’ His
voice was strained.

‘Should've known.’ Her voice held its usual,
easy warmth. ‘So are you about to leave? Dinner’s ready and, well,
you know Joey, he’s starving.’

Costas tried to stifle the rising bile. After
a pause he simply grunted.

‘Costas...?’

‘Hold on-,’ he dropped the receiver and ran
to the bathroom. He could feel the ice cold, dead flesh of the
corpse all over - against his arms, his chest, his legs. Smothering
him. And the eyes...

He vomited into the bowl.

By the time he'd composed himself and
returned to the phone, the line was dead. He had no way of knowing
that Barbara Cail was already in her fifteen-year old Ford station
wagon, leaving behind the simmering roast and Joey’s protests, as
she made the ten minute drive from her home to the cottage.

She arrived to find Costas ashen faced and
still shivering. He told her about the gruesome discovery he'd made
on the beach and Barbara put her arms around him, hugged him close.
‘It must’ve been terrible. I can't imagine...’ Barbara’s neighbour
was a nurse and Barbara had heard enough of that woman’s shop talk
to suspect Costas was suffering from delayed shock.

‘I’ll be okay,’ Costas said. ‘Just needed a
little longer than I realised, to get myself together.’

‘Go take a shower, warm up. Then I’m running
you over to the hospital to see one of the docs. You need
something-’

‘No, no. No need for that.’

‘Go get under that shower,’ Barbara said. It
was a long time since she’d needed to mother a man. She gave him
another squeeze and then Costas went through to the bathroom. He
was comforted by her presence.

If Costas had any doubts about his feelings
for Barbara, then they vanished right there and then as the
needlepoint spray of the water gushed over him.

After the meal Adam and Kate planned to sit
quietly and watch some late night television. Kate commented that
she would enjoy watching the old Harrison Ford/Anne Heche romantic
comedy, “Seven Days, Seven Nights”. It was a favourite of hers.

Adam couldn't, however, stay focused on the
movie. His mind kept wandering, he was restless, and before the end
he excused himself, went pottering around in the kitchen, then
disappeared onto the balcony.

Before the end of the movie, Kate eased
herself off the lounge and went to the doorway that led to the
balcony. She stood quietly a moment, watching Adam. He was cradling
a Scotch that he’d barely touched, sitting with feet propped
against the railing, gazing out over the night sky, seemingly lost
in thought.

It was, of course, rude behaviour on a dinner
date. Normally Kate would have made a cutting remark and left in a
huff, the relationship over. And yet, despite the fact she hardly
knew this man she felt unusually comfortable in his company.

She wasn't offended. She sensed something
troubling Adam and it wasn't anything personal between the two of
them. The clouds had thinned, the air was fresh after the storm,
and the moon was a perfect crescent shape. ‘I didn't think the
movie was that bad,’ she said softly.

‘It wasn’t. And I’m sorry, Kate, I’m being a
damn lousy date.’

She laughed. ‘Yes. The manner’s need work.
Otherwise you’ve got potential.’ She sank into the chair beside
him. ‘Is it anything you want to talk about?’

He didn't answer straight away. He sighed,
stared off, then back again. ‘I guess it must’ve been that girl in
the surf tonight. I didn’t think it would get to me like
this...’

‘Instead of being able to unwind, your mind
kept switching back to that beach?’

‘Yeah.’

She leaned forward, touched his arm. ‘I don't
suppose something like this ever gets any easier, no matter how
much experience you might have had.’

‘I see this sort of thing from time to time,
Kate. You learn to deal with it. But...’ He stopped mid-sentence
and looked to the distance again, allowing the thought to fade.

‘What...?’

‘I had a sister. She drowned here in Northern
Rocks when we were kids, twenty two years ago.’

‘Oh my God-’

‘It's not something that ever goes completely
away. But I never expected to be...rocked like this. Not after so
long.’

Kate’s eyes met his and she moved in closer.
‘I’m guessing the anguish came back, and it was like a real bolt
from the blue.’

He nodded.

‘It's perfectly understandable,’ Kate said.
‘Would it help if we talked about it...’

They sat on the balcony until the dawn broke,
hands touching from time to time, and Adam told her all about his
sister Alana.

It had been their third day stalking the
banks of the great Adelaide River, beating their way through dense
mangroves that flanked the waterway. Three days and nights of
excessive heat and maddening mosquitoes, of mud that stank like
rotting food as they pushed deeper and deeper into the Marrakai
flood plains of the Northern Territory.

Normally, Greg Kovacs liked the heat and the
open spaces of the Australian Outback. But even he was struggling
against the extreme conditions in this part of the Territory. He
couldn't help but marvel at the composure and stamina of Walter
Coolawirra. The Aboriginal tracker, a good humoured man with a
short, wiry build, never seemed to tire and hardly seemed to
sweat.

‘They are close now, Greg, very close,’
Walter said, standing perfectly still with his face lifted to the
sky, eyes alert and focused on a point somewhere in the tangle of
vegetation that draped the horizon.