Cold Deception (20 page)

Julia took a deep breath and opened her mouth. Not soon enough. The woman in front of her ploughed on, not interested in what Julia had to say.

“And from what the Prisoner Action people say, most screws aren’t averse to torture and other human rights violations. Is that what you found?”

She’d been trapped in the woman’s passionate espousal of prison reform. Too late she realized she’d mistaken the look of greedy voyeurism for genuine concern. Now she was cornered in a dark room with loud rock music from the seventies and eighties blaring, a whirling, happy crowd of dancing figures, and a growing sense she was on the verge of throwing up.

“I heard they used to watch lesbian women have sex with each other. Did that happen to you?”

She stared at the woman with cold fury, her anger cutting through her unwillingness to be rude.

“No. I generally invited them in. If you’ll excuse me, I need some air.”

She pushed past the flabbergasted woman, made her way through the gyrating dancers and into the kitchen. Dee was spooning humus into a bowl and swaying to the beat of an Annie Lennox song.

“Who is that awful woman?” Julia picked up a celery stick and scooped up some dip.

“Which one?” Dee placed the bowl on a platter of cut vegetables. “There are a few here,” she added, sotto voce.

“The earnest one who wants to know about my sex life in custody.”

“Ah. That would be Kirsty Brien. Bit of a bore.”

“Why did you invite her?’

Dee shrugged. “Partner of Allie Turner. You remember Allie don’t you? One of my best friends. Just has terrible taste in women. I don’t think Kirsty will last. Even Allie’s beginning to get irritated by her.”

Dee picked up the platter and made for the lounge room, back to the swirling bodies and throbbing music. “You okay? You look a bit pale.”

Julia smiled at her, seeing that Dee was having a great time. Surrounded by her friends, reliving her glory days and, Julia knew, happy she no longer had to worry about Julia in jail.

“I’m fine. Just need some time out.”

“No panic attacks?”

She shook her head. “Not so far. But it was a close thing with Kirsty.”

“Don’t worry. Having a panic attack around Kirsty is normal. She has that effect on most people.” With a grin, she disappeared into the throng of people.

Julia munched on her celery and moved out onto the covered veranda. She could see into the lounge room without having to be part of the crowd. Amazing that an alcohol-free party could still manage to rage on with everyone high on music and each other’s company.

It was good to see Eleanor in this setting. She was both relaxed and energized. When new arrivals came into the room, they threw their arms around her and hugged her tightly. Dee was the star though, bopping around the room like a manic fairy dressed in garnet silk harem pants and a black sleeveless top.

Some more people came through the front door and with them, Larissa. Julia smiled widely and crossed the floor to her.

“Hey, glad you could come. I wanted to you to meet my parents.”

“They don’t mind a stranger at your stepmother’s birthday?”

Julia shook her head. “The more the merrier is their view. Come, I’ll introduce you.”

As they made their way through numerous gyrating bodies toward Eleanor, Larissa was welcomed by a few of the guests who knew her already.

“See, you’re hardly a stranger.”

Larissa smiled and visibly relaxed. As she and Eleanor chatted, Julia scanned the rest of the room.

Someone had cranked up the sound system and with it the energy in the room. With the only light coming from a string of fairy lights across the ceiling and a few tea lights on the dining room table, the room resembled, amazingly, a dance floor from some city club. The floor boards vibrated from the increasingly energetic dancing as Springsteen, Bowie, the Talking Heads, and other classics from the eighties boomed out across the room.

Julia smiled as the room full of baby boomers relived their youth. Everyone looked like they were having a great time. Except for Sally and Douglas. She peered through the darkness and flickering lights to see them away from the main action in a corner, arguing. At least she thought they were arguing. They faced each other and Douglas was talking to Sally earnestly. He grabbed her wrist and she shook him off roughly.

Concerned, Julia started to cross the floor to them, but was pulled toward Larissa by Eleanor.

“You didn’t tell me Larissa had offered you a contract,” Eleanor yelled over the noise, a look of delight on her face. “That’s fantastic!”

“I was going to tell you after the party,” Julia yelled back. She smiled at the two women then turned back to see what was going on with Sally and Douglas, just in time to see Sally storm off out the front door.

Frowning, she turned back to her mother, wanting to excuse herself and find out what was going on with her friend, only to see Larissa pale and shaking. Eleanor had turned away, grabbed by a group of her friends who wanted her to dance.

“Are you okay, Larissa? What’s happened?” Julia asked the now visibly upset woman.

“Nothing. I’m fine, just a ghost from the past. I’m sorry, Julia, I need to go. I can’t… I… I’ll see you later.”

“Larissa, wait—”

The other woman shook her head and quickly moved through the dancing throngs and out the front door. Julia moved to follow her but was caught up in a group of revelers who insisted she dance with them. By the time she’d extracted herself and got to the front door, she couldn’t see any sign of either Sally or Larissa.

Strange. She turned back to the party scanning for Douglas, but couldn’t see him. The party had reached a new level of wildness with nearly everyone on the floor, dancing.

Except for Blossom. She hovered around the edges of the party, looking haunted and lost.

“She’ll get there eventually.”

Adrenaline spiked through her body as she turned toward that deep voice. Dylan stood behind her staring at Blossom. He glanced toward her and smiled ruefully.

“Not an easy path, but then, it never is.”

“I didn’t see you come in.”

“I can only stay for a minute. Just wanted to give Dee a birthday present.”

Their last few encounters flashed inconveniently into her mind. Heated kisses and interrogation for a murder. Great basis for a relationship. A relationship? God almighty. She had to get that adolescent idea out of her head.

“I guess it’s not a good idea for you to be attending a party at a house where you’re investigating a murder.”

His smile was more a grimace. “No, not really. I thought you might call it off.”

Julia shook her head. “Not Eleanor. She was determined to have a party no matter what.” She turned to find Blossom again in the crowd. She was standing near Eleanor, trying to get her attention.

“This must all seem so different for you,” he said.

“What?”

He jerked his head toward the party. “Life. People doing what they do and not thinking about it. Fun.”

She shrugged. “We had fun in jail, strange as it may seem. Most people assume it’s a twisted kind of fun, crazy, involving lots of lesbian sex. Is that what you mean?”

He straightened and stared at her with a perplexed look on his face. “No. That’s not what I meant at all. What made you say that?”

She sighed and shook her head. “Sorry. The first half of the evening was taken up with an earnest pain in the ass trying to pump me for the salacious details of my sex life behind bars. I think she’d find it hard to believe genuine friendships could exist in that place.”

“Maybe that’s a good reason for you to help me get O’Reardon. Men like him are no good for your friends.”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes but even as she opened her mouth to reply, a nearby crash grabbed her attention.

The dining room table had been pushed against the wall to give more room for dancing and to serve as a buffet. Dips, bowls of chips and other finger food, as well as vases of flowers and tea light candles festooned the surface. Blossom stood at one end between Douglas and Eleanor, arguing fiercely with them. Julia couldn’t hear what they were saying, but could see the crash was the result of Blossom pulling away from Eleanor’s hand on her arm. She’s fallen back against the table and a vase of flowers had toppled over.

“Something’s wrong,” Julia murmured as she moved toward her sister. Dee was on the move as well, leaving the other guests to watch.

“I’m right. I know I’m right.” Blossom’s voice was high with hysteria and anger. She glared at Douglas and Eleanor as they tried to placate her.

“Come on, honey,” said Eleanor. “It’s okay. I know it’s been hard for you but this isn’t the time…”

“When will it be the right time, Ma? She went to jail for something she didn’t do.”

Julia froze, acutely conscious of both the hush that descended in the lounge room and the indrawn breath of Dylan behind her.

“We’ve talked about this Bloss. You know that’s not right. Come on, come away from here and let these people get on with having a good time.”

“No! They need to know!”

She wrenched herself away from her mother and her psychiatrist and climbed onto a chair. Julia rushed toward her with her arms outstretched.

No, no, no…

“Blossom—”

“Everyone. Everyone,” Blossom yelled. “You need to know. Julia went to jail to protect me. I’m the one who did it. I killed Father Pat.”

A collective breath from the crowd exploded into a jumble of protests and cries of disbelief.

“Stop it Blossom.” Julia reached up to her sister and pulled her off the chair. “You’re being ridiculous. I told you what happened.”

Grasping her arm tightly and signalling to Douglas to hold onto her other arm, Julia bustled the now weeping Blossom into the kitchen and deposited her on a chair. She glanced up at Dylan who’d closed the door, shutting the party out. She grimaced at him, then let out the breath she’d been holding. Dee and Eleanor were still in the lounge room and from the sounds of their voices, were explaining that Blossom was having a hard time and wasn’t herself.

That was an understatement.

“But it was me. I know it was,” Blossom repeated over and over. “I remember the knife and the blood.”

“No,” Julia said. “No."

Douglas pushed his fingers through his hair. “She’s been obsessing about this for a while. I thought she’d moved on but apparently not. I think it might be a good idea to give her a sedative and get her back to hospital.”

“No!” she cried. She leapt out of the seat but not before Dylan caught and held her.

“Stop it Bloss. You’re being a drama queen for no reason. There’s no way in the world you could’ve killed Father Pat.”

Julia stared at him, momentarily taken aback.

“But…” Blossom stuttered.

“No. I’ve read the forensic report. Your sister’s blood was at the scene because she cut herself when she stabbed him. Not only that, but Father Pat was killed by an adult and with some force. You were eight years old. You couldn’t have killed him.”

Dylan held Blossom as she sobbed into his sweater.

“But I keep having dreams,” she said. “Dreams about blood and knives… And I was there. She denied it but I know I was.
”

“We talked about this, Bloss,” Douglas said gently. “Your sister who you loved was convicted of a crime that a lot of people thought she shouldn’t have gone to prison for. Now she’s out of jail and you’re bringing into consciousness all that repressed pain and fear about losing her. I think you want to be guilty so you can rework history.” He smiled at her sadly while patting her like a fond uncle. “It won’t work. You know it won’t work.”

*

Dylan held her closer and glanced at Julia. Her face was chalk white and she swayed where she stood. Transferring Blossom into the arms of Douglas, he quickly stepped toward her and caught her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

She pushed away from him and ran out of the kitchen down the hallway and into the bathroom. He stood where he was, torn between helping Douglas with Blossom or seeing if Julia was okay. From the sound of retching sounds from the bathroom, she wasn’t. Eleanor had joined Douglas in dealing with Blossom, so he made his way cautiously down the hallway. When he got to the doorway of the bathroom, he saw Julia sitting on the side of the bath, wiping her face with a wet face cloth. She was still pale and shaking. He crouched down in front of her.

“It’s okay. Eleanor and Douglas have taken her upstairs and put her to bed. Dee’s dealing with the guests. I think they took it in their stride. Most people seem to know Bloss is just out of detox.”

She nodded and avoided his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” he said quietly.

“Then whose is it if not mine? I have to see if she’s all right.” She stood and brushed past him but seemed to have second thoughts. She hesitated and turned to him.

“Why are you so certain a child couldn’t have killed Father Pat?”

“I read your file. All the forensic evidence was there.” Something was wrong.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

She gazed off into a world of her own that made the hairs raise on the back of his neck. “Julia? What’s wrong?” He put his hand on her arm but she shook him off as if snapping back to reality.

He followed her as she went back to the kitchen. Dee was stacking dishes in the sink. She turned as Julia almost slammed into the kitchen table. She was still unsteady on her feet.

“Whoa! Hang on a minute. Sit down.”

“I’m okay. Where’s Blossom?”

“Douglas and Eleanor have put her to bed.”

There was a tightness to her voice that Dylan couldn’t quite decipher.

“Did she say any more?”

“Any more? Didn’t she say enough? I had no idea this was going through her mind. If we’d known earlier we could’ve done something about it.” She stared at Julia with eyes full of reproach. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Dylan watched Julia with increasing concern. She seemed on the verge of panic.

“I… I didn’t take her seriously. I thought she was just attention getting. The whole thing was absurd…”