Authors: Vicki Tyley
Her problem was
she had too much time to think. Willing the phone to ring wasn’t working. She
needed a distraction. Laundry, dishes, dusting, accounts: all needed doing, but
none held any appeal.
When the phone
did ring, she was elbow-deep in soapy water. Quickly drying her hands with a
tea towel, she lunged for the phone, answering with a breathless “hello.”
“Where’s my
wife, you fucking bitch? And don’t even think about—”
Jacinta recoiled,
the phone slipping from her grip. She caught it, disconnecting the call. What
had happened to Narelle? Where was she, if not at home?
The phone rang
again. Jacinta’s stomach knotted, a bitter, metallic taste filling her mouth.
She couldn’t not answer it. What if it was Narelle? With her finger poised to
end the call, she answered it.
Her voice came
out as a squeak. A vaguely familiar woman’s voice asked for Jacinta Deller.
Covering the mouthpiece, Jacinta cleared her throat.
“Jacinta
Deller,” she announced in her most confident and business-like voice.
When she heard
it was Emily York from Alvico Media, her heart skipped a beat, a bubble of hope
welling in her chest. As far as job interviews went, bad news was usually
delivered by letter or email.
The phone call
lasted less than a minute, but when Jacinta hung up, she couldn’t contain her
elation, dancing a little jig on the spot. Emily was emailing all the details
through, but that was just a formality. She started work Monday at Alvico
Media: a regular job with regular hours and regular pay.
Wanting to share
her excitement, she called Brett, leaving a message when it diverted to his
voicemail. While Brett’s reconciliation dinner hadn’t gone to plan the previous
night, they now had extra cause for celebration. She closed her eyes, already
tasting the champagne bubbles.
The ringing
telephone broke her reverie, the champagne fizz dissipating on hearing
Narelle’s subdued voice.
“Thank God!
Narelle, where are you?”
“On my way to
the doctor. Why?”
“Where did you
go last night?”
“Oh, Jacinta,
I’m really sorry about running out on you like that. Didn’t you get my note?”
“Yes, but where
did you go?”
“Home,” Narelle
replied, her voice tentative, as if she wasn’t sure it was the right response.
“Why?”
“Craig has just
rung here looking for you,” Jacinta said, neglecting to mention how het-up he
had been. Nor that she had hung up on him without saying a word.
Narelle sighed.
“It was probably stupid of me to think he might stay asleep until I got home.”
She went on to say that when she had arrived home the night before, Craig had
been passed out on the couch, a whisky tumbler clutched in his hand. After
removing the glass and throwing a blanket over him, she had gone to bed,
leaving him to sleep it off. He was still snoring when she left the house that
morning.
Narelle didn’t
volunteer the reason for her doctor’s appointment and Jacinta didn’t pry,
assuming it was to confirm, or otherwise, her suspected pregnancy.
Relieved that
Narelle was in no immediate danger, she took a deep breath, relaxing back into
her chair. Jacinta’s news of her new job with Alvico Media lightened the tone
of the conversation considerably. Narelle congratulated her, sounding genuinely
delighted, even suggesting a celebratory drink when things settled down.
What things,
Jacinta wasn’t quite sure. But the mere fact that Narelle had made the
suggestion at all had to be a good sign, and the first step in taking back
control of her life. After securing a promise from Narelle that she wouldn’t
think twice about ringing her any time of the day or night, for any reason
whatsoever, Jacinta rang off.
She returned to
the kitchen sink, the now cold and grey dishwater not enough to dampen her
spirits. She had a new job to look forward to. Brett and she were back
together. Narelle’s problems, while still there, didn’t appear quite so
dramatic in the clear light of day.
Even the radio
station she was listening to was in sync with her mood. She found herself
singing along at the top of her voice with the chorus of a long-forgotten dance
hit from the late 1980s, ‘The Only Way Is Up’. The only way
was
up, and
it felt good.
She finished
washing up, planning the rest of her day as she wiped down the benches. First
stop:
The Acacia Tribune
to thank Anthea for the job reference and, if
she could persuade her to leave her desk for long enough, a catch-up over
coffee. Then lunch with Brett, if he was free. Broke as she was, any shopping,
with the exception of window-shopping, was out of the question. Perhaps then a
leisurely stroll through Fitzroy Gardens. She could certainly do with the fresh
air and exercise.
In the throes of
hanging up the tea towel, the doorbell rang. Still singing along with the radio
and without much thought as to who it might be, she went to answer it.
DS Renee White,
prim and proper in a dark, tailored trouser-suit, was the last person Jacinta
expected to see. But her bewilderment soon turned to dismay as she caught sight
of the detective’s partner. Instead of the insolent DC Mark Fratta, she was
staring straight into the dark eyes of Daniel Lassiter. She gasped, her attempt to slam the door thwarted by a well-placed black boot.
“Ms Deller,”
said the DS, her foot still implanted between the door and jamb, “can we please
have just a few minutes of your time?”
The sergeant’s
request, while polite enough, didn’t touch on the reason for the visit. Surely
Daniel wouldn’t have had the DS fronting for him if it had been strictly
personal. Official police business? Then again, what could they possibly want
with her?
With curiosity tempering her instinct to keep the police – and more so, her stepbrother – at a distance, she
relented, taking the pressure off the door. Journalist or not, she doubted she
would ever lose the innate inquisitiveness that had led her to choose that
career in the first place.
“Jacinta…”
She froze,
unable to breathe; Daniel’s deep liquid voice, his father’s voice, piercing the
armour she had spent years erecting around herself.
“Jacinta,” he
repeated, taking a step forward, his hands out in front of him. “You’re
shocked, and I apologise for that. This wasn’t the way I saw us meeting up
again after all these years, either.” Puzzlement flashed across his face. “Did
you get my letter?”
She nodded
dumbly, her power of speech deserting her. If she hadn’t known better, she
would have sworn she’d been transported back in time. Daniel’s resemblance to
his father was startling: the same espresso-coloured eyes; the same strong,
square jaw; the same chiselled cheekbones; the same wide mouth. Even his dark,
wavy hair, though he had more of it, was identical.
“You two know
each other, then?” said DS Renee White, one eyebrow arching as she glanced back
and forth between Jacinta and Daniel.
“Yes,” replied
Daniel, not elaborating any further.
His eyes didn’t
blink. “Good to see you again, Jacinta. It’s been a long time.”
She found her
breath. “What do you want?”
His mouth
opened, but before he could speak, the sergeant cut in. “It would be better if
we talked inside.”
What choice did
she have? Releasing the door, she stepped aside, pressing her back up hard
against the wall. Her eyes closed as Daniel brushed past, the warm muskiness of
his aftershave unsettling her.
She closed the
door, paused, took a couple of deep breaths and turned to face him and the DS.
“Thank you for
your time, Ms Deller,” said DS White.
“Jacinta,
please,” blurted Jacinta, countering the disquieting formality. “Come through.”
She led them
through to the living room, seating them together on one sofa before claiming
the far end of the other for herself. She shivered, folding her arms tightly
over her chest.
Perched on the
sofa edge, Daniel looked as ill at ease as she felt. He cleared his throat.
“Jacinta, even though I would like to spend some time catching up with you,
unfortunately we’re here on official police business. Perhaps we could get
together later.” She opened her mouth to protest. “Of course, I’ll leave that
entirely up to you,” he added quickly, not giving her any leeway.
Her mouth
closed, the clunk of her teeth sending vibrations through her jaw. Would the
Daniel of old have been as deferential? She didn’t know. Somehow he had her
doubting her own memories.
“Here,” he said,
taking a pen from his shirt pocket and writing on the reverse of one of his
business cards, “these are all my contact details, including my home email
address. Wendy, my wife, and the boys would love to meet you.” He handed her
the card, but when she hesitated, laid it on the coffee table.
Jacinta blinked.
With everything happening so fast, it all felt surreal. She glanced at the
business card, wondering if he had forgotten that he’d enclosed one with his
letter. Perhaps the suave Daniel Lassiter wasn’t quite as in control as he
would have liked her to think.
“DS White
happened to mention you were at the Edmonds house when she and DC Fratta called
on Narelle Croswell last week.”
“So?” replied
Jacinta, looking to Renee White for an explanation. Stony-faced, the detective
returned her stare.
“I’m sure you’re
aware that Craig Edmonds was charged with the murder of his first wife,
Narelle’s sister.”
“So?” she
repeated, before she could stop herself, her belligerence acting as a defence
mechanism. “What could that possibly have to do with me? I wasn’t even in the
country.”
Daniel gave a
low sigh. “We’re not here to make trouble. Nor are we out on a witch-hunt.
Simply put, new information has come forth that may or may not relate to the
Edmonds case. I was hoping that you might be able to help us get to the truth,
whatever that may be.”
“What new
information?”
“I’m sorry,
we’re not in a position to divulge details at the moment. Investigations are
still ongoing.”
Cop-speak for
it’s none of your business
, thought Jacinta. “I still don’t see where I
come into the equation.”
“How long have
you known Craig Edmonds and Narelle Croswell?”
She stiffened.
“Not long,” she replied, deliberately vague.
“Days? Weeks?
Years?”
“Days.”
Daniel’s right
eye twitched. “How did you meet?”
“Does it
matter?”
“I know it
probably seems irrelevant, but experience tells us that we can’t overlook any
detail, no matter how insignificant it might appear at the time.”
As long as she
didn’t betray any confidences, she couldn’t see any harm in answering his
questions. “My boyfriend and Narelle are work colleagues.”
Again, his eye
twitched. “Can you tell us how you came to meet Craig Edmonds?”
“First,” she
said, unfolding her arms and planting her hands on her knees, “please tell me
what all this is about.” If they wanted information from her, they were going
to have to barter for it.
“That’s not
how—” began Renee White.
Daniel took
charge, dismissing his sergeant with a reproving glance. She scowled, looking
like a petulant child when he dispatched her to the kitchen to make coffee.
“Now,” he said,
dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I’m only telling you this
because I trust you to keep it confidential.” He held her gaze. “I can trust
you, can’t I, Jacinta?”
Her journalistic
antenna shot up. She nodded, fully aware that it was his way of trying to
endear himself to her. And, at the same time, test her. Breaking police
protocol wasn’t a gamble she imagined he would take lightly; if it backfired,
it could cost him his career.
He studied her
face, shaking his head as if having second thoughts.
“Jesus, Daniel,
don’t start playing games with me. Either you have something you can tell me,
or you don’t. Whatever it is, I assure you it won’t make tomorrow’s headlines.”
He laughed.
“Placid as ever, I see.”
She glowered at
him, already regretting letting him into her house. Didn’t he understand what
it took for her just to be in the same room with him? Poking fun at her
wouldn’t help.
He reached out
his arm, laying his palm on the coffee table in front of her, his tone suddenly
serious. “It’s not public knowledge yet, but more remains have been uncovered in
the Toolangi State Forest.”
“More?”
Before he could
elaborate, Renee appeared in the doorway, balancing a black-and-white-patterned
mug in each hand.
“Thanks, Renee,”
he said, as she crossed the room and set the steaming mugs on the coffee table.
“My sister and I were just catching up on old times.”
The DS’s eyes
widened, her head jerking from one to the other as if the concept was entirely
outside the realms of possibility.
“He means
stepsister. For a short time his father was married to my mother,” said
Jacinta, adding the word
unfortunately
in her mind.
“Jacinta, if
you’re free later on today, how about we continue our conversation then.”
She picked up
the cue, realising she would learn no more about the remains found in the Toolangi State Forest while Renee was in earshot. “Sure, I could meet you somewhere in the
city.” Meeting in public would be less daunting than being alone with him in
private.
Niceties dealt
with, at least on the surface, Daniel and Renee pressed on with their queries about her relationship with the Edmondses. She answered their direct questions, not
proffering more than was strictly necessary. When it came down to questions
involving her thoughts and opinions, she shrugged and pleaded ignorance.
By the time
Daniel and Renee left, they only knew for certain that Brett and Narelle had
worked for the same company for three years, that the Edmondses had attended a
dinner party hosted by Jacinta and Brett, that Narelle and Jacinta had seen
each other a couple of times since, and that the Edmondses had few friends.