Hindsight (9781921997211) (10 page)

CHAPTER

10

After Ed left, I went back into the kitchen with Mum and Gran. Normally, I was the only one who struggled with conversation first thing in the morning but today we were all lost for words.

Mum grabbed the phone off the wall and dialled Natalia's number. Gran and I sat there listening to one side of the conversation.

‘Nat? It's Anita. Yes, he was just here … No, she didn't. Look something happened … No, nothing like that. It was my fault. I shook his hand … Yes, I did. I told him I was sorry that his wife had died … No, I didn't realise … Yes, I'm so sorry. I am sure … No, I don't know how or where … He left about ten minutes ago … No he didn't say … OK, will you let me know?'

‘Well?' Gran asked.

‘She's worried. She said she'd try to get hold of him.'

Gran nodded. She filled the kettle and switched it on. Mechanically she rinsed the tea pot, added new leaves and put out three clean cups.

‘Do either of you want something to eat?'

‘No thanks, Mum.'

‘Not hungry, Gran.'

‘No, me neither.' Gran sighed.

Gran brought the pot over to the table. I didn't even feel like my normal morning coffee. Somehow tea seemed the only thing to be drinking right then. Gran poured and we sat there, sipping. All I could hear was the sound of the kitchen clock tick, tick, ticking away.

‘It's best to let Anita and his friends help him now. I don't think we could do anything to make things better,' Gran said.

‘I'm sorry, Cass,' Mum said. ‘I've ruined your plans for today.'

I sighed. Mum had thrown a serious spanner in my plans to put my talent to better use. I couldn't help wondering if I was ever going to find a life for myself outside of this house. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Gran was watching me and must have picked up on my thoughts, or read my face as she so often did.

‘Cass, this doesn't mean you should chuck it in, you mustn't give up so easily.'

‘I doubt he'll want anything to do with me now.'

Mum looked even more upset.

‘You don't know that,' Gran said. ‘Once he gets over the initial shock you might find he's actually quite relieved to know.'

‘Maybe. I think I'll go upstairs and finish editing that manuscript. I told the client I'd have it to him by the end of the week.'

The energy I'd felt earlier had evaporated and my legs felt leaden as I dragged myself up each step. Part of me was angry at Mum. It wasn't the first time she'd suffered from psychic Tourette's and blurted out a vision. It was fine when it worked out like it had for Natalia but more often than not all it did was make someone hostile. Some of the townsfolk who were in the cross-the-road-to-avoid-us category hadn't started off there — they'd been pushed there by Mum giving them some piece of unwelcome news.

Gran, ever the peacemaker, tried to explain it to me in terms of my own talent. She told me that sometimes Mum's visions were so strong that she felt compelled to tell the person what she'd seen, just as I couldn't control mine. I wasn't so sure. I still thought Mum had a choice but there was nothing I could do for the people I had visions about.

When I got to my room, I threw myself on my bed and laid there, letting my anger run its course. Maybe I was just making excuses for myself. I could do something for some of the people I had visions about. Maybe helping to find their killers was my responsibility. Maybe I was actually worse than Mum. Instead of simply misjudging how to help others, I'd been guilty of completely shirking my responsibilities for years. The thought was not a comfortable one. If I'd been given this talent to help people then I'd failed miserably so far.

I jumped off the bed and walked over to the window. The ocean was a deep azure blue today, dusted by flecks of white where the wind whipped up choppy waves. There had to be a reason why I was given such a god-awful ability. It was time I started trying to find it. Gran was right. I couldn't let one setback stop me.

I made a decision. I would go and see Ed. I would try to comfort him and offer whatever help I could with the current case and his wife's death. I knew Gran and Mum would try to talk me out of going to see him. They would tell me I needed to give him some space. My gut was telling me differently. I needed to go and find him, now.

It was easier said than done though. The problem with living with your mother and grandmother is that you get to know each other too well. Add the extra level of perceptiveness that comes with all of our talents and you get a situation that makes it virtually impossible to pull the wool over anyone's eyes. Plus, I wasn't a good liar at the best of times.

It was much easier than I'd expected. Gran was out in the garden when I went back downstairs and it was only Mum sitting in the kitchen, looking a bit lost. I instantly felt terrible for being angry with her. I went up to her and gave her a hug.

‘Don't worry, Mum. I'm sure it will be all right.'

‘But what about you and your plans?'

‘I'll wait for the dust to settle.'

She nodded, looking a bit brighter.

‘I can't seem to get into my editing today.' That much was true. ‘I thought I might head back into town and keep going with the research I started.'

‘Great idea! I'll drop you in,' she said, standing up.

‘No, I'd really like to drive myself.' I held my breath waiting for her reaction. She looked at me steadily for a few seconds before replying.

‘All right, if you think it will be OK.'

I tried to mask my surprise. I was ready for her to hurl all sorts of arguments at me about how dangerous it might be if I had a vision while I was driving.

‘I think it will be. I only stopped driving as a precaution. I've never actually had a vision in a moving car.' Only in a parked one at the lookout with Michael Jenkins.

‘How were you yesterday in the car with Natalia?'

‘No problems at all.'

‘Well it should be OK, then, especially since you're only going as far as town.'

She gave me a very direct look as she said this and I wondered if she suspected that I was up to something, but she didn't say anything. I think she was still feeling bad about mucking up my plans with Ed.

‘I think I'll make a day of it if you don't need the car?'

‘Gran and I don't have any plans.'

‘I'll see you tonight then.'

I grabbed the keys and my handbag, gave her a peck on the cheek and went off in search of Gran. I found her in the conservatory, re-potting some plants.

‘I'm off into town to do some research, Gran.'

‘Are you? Is Anita going too? I thought she was going to help me harvest and dry some herbs today.'

‘I'm going to drive myself.'

She looked up at me, ‘You be careful, Cass.'

I knew she meant more than the driving. I hurried over and gave her a quick hug before walking around to the garage and getting into the car. My stomach was in knots and I could feel my pulse racing. It'd been a very long time since I'd driven anywhere. Hell, who was I kidding? I couldn't even remember the last time I had gone anywhere by myself unless it was just a walk to get some fresh air. When Shadow was around I didn't even get to go to the toilet by myself.

I started the car and reversed gingerly out of our driveway and then I was off. As I got further from home my nervousness was replaced by exhilaration. I turned the radio on, switching from Mum's favourite talkback to the music station I listened to. I cranked it up and rolled the window down, enjoying the icy breeze on my face and how good it felt to be out and about, by myself, doing something as normal as driving.

The bubble burst when I reached the turn-off for Fairfield. Why I was doing this came back into focus. The tension got worse the closer I got to town.

I was in a state by the time I managed to find my way through the back streets, trying to remember the way to Ed Dyson's house. As I pulled up out the front, I felt a mixture of relief that I'd found it and dread at how he might respond to my invading his privacy.

I jumped out of the car before I could have any second thoughts and strode up the pathway. I gave the old-fashioned brass bell a quick ring and waited. No answer. I rang again; still no signs of life from within. I walked over to the bay window and peered inside. I could see the lounge room and a doorway through to what was either the kitchen or dining room. There was no sign of anyone. It was too cold to sit on his veranda chairs; I would just have to wait in the car.

The minutes dragged by. I wondered if maybe he'd gone back to work or if he'd gone somewhere to think. I decided to give it another half an hour before heading back to Jewel Bay and actually going to the library. Wouldn't that just suck? I would have gone through all the angst of lying to Mum and Gran only to end up doing exactly what I'd told them I was going to do.

Twenty minutes passed and I was starting to think I would need to leave sooner rather than later. Nature was starting to call in no uncertain terms and the cold wasn't helping. Just as I was about to chuck it in and start the car, I saw a charcoal-grey sedan pull around the corner into the street. As it got closer I could see that it was Ed. He looked straight at me but his expression didn't change and he didn't seem to register my presence.

I waited for him to get out and then jumped out of my car and hurried across the road. I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder just as he was putting his key in the door.

‘Detective Dyson?'

I thought I'd made enough noise to wake the dead as I walked up the gravel path, but apparently not because he just about leapt out of his skin. He jerked around and thrust his hand inside his jacket, drawing his gun as he did so.

‘Jesus Christ, woman! Never, ever sneak up on an armed police officer like that! I could've bloody shot you.' He put his gun back in its holster, glaring at me and breathing heavily.

The speech I'd been carefully rehearsing seemed to have disappeared into the deepest realms of my brain never to be found again. I stood there looking at him.

‘Well? What do you want?'

‘Can I use your toilet?' I squeaked.

‘You came all the way here to use my toilet?'

‘No, but I really need to go. Can we go inside, please?'

He stared at me then grunted and turned back to open the door. He headed inside, leaving the door open behind him. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, following at a half run to keep up. I followed him into a large, modern kitchen.

‘Bathroom's back through that doorway and across the hallway.'

‘Thanks.'

I hurried through the doorway he'd pointed at and for a while all I could think about was the relief of emptying a bladder that was so full that it had been a very near thing when he pulled his gun on me. I tried to imagine what his reaction would have been if I'd peed all over his tessellated tiles. It didn't bear thinking about. I finished up, and stepped back into the hallway. I could hear him on the phone in the kitchen.

Not wanting to intrude on his call, I walked into a large sunny room that spanned the back of the house. Bookshelves lined the walls. At one end there was a billiard table and a couple of leather couches. At the other end was a large oak desk and chair. It was what was behind the desk that caught my attention.

A large whiteboard was set up. Stuck on it was a collection of photos of women and under each one there was a name and a date. I went over and stood there staring at all the faces. There were probably about twenty of them. They weren't police photos. They were family photos; smiling faces of people having fun. I looked at them, trying to work out what connected them.

They were all so different. Some were old, some young. There were brunettes and blondes and the occasional dark-haired woman or redhead. Some looked well groomed, others not so much. A few were very pretty but many were quite ordinary. As I stared a few started to stand out. My eyes were drawn to four of the pictures.

At first I couldn't work out why those women were pulling my focus and then I realised; it was their eyes. They had the most stunning green eyes. It wasn't obvious at first glance because their overall appearances were so different. One was quite young with strawberry blonde hair and freckles. Another was late twenties or early thirties with dark, honey blonde hair and porcelain skin. The third and fourth were both middle-aged. One was thin and had greying brown hair and the other was a redhead, good-looking in a well-preserved and cosmetically enhanced kind of way.

What they shared was a set of extraordinary green eyes. I pulled the four photos off and stuck them together along the bottom of the board, putting them side by side to better compare them. I was so engrossed I didn't realise that the murmur of Ed's voice in the background had stopped. I didn't hear him come up behind me and so for the second time that day he nearly gave me a heart attack.

‘What the hell do you think you're doing?'

I turned around with my heart pounding, wondering whether Detective Dyson actually got pleasure from frightening the hell out of me.

‘Um, while I was waiting for you on the phone I just thought … I didn't want to eavesdrop … I didn't mean to …' I let the words trail off, feeling annoyed for sounding so pathetic. He stood there glaring. The silence stretched on.

‘Who are they?' I finally asked.

I could almost hear the cogs in his brain whirring as he had an internal debate about whether to answer me or just tell me to mind my own business and get the hell out of his house.

‘They're all the women who've gone missing in this region in the last ten years and haven't been found.'

‘Wow, that's a lot.'

‘That's just the women.'

‘Oh.'

‘Why have you got those four picked out?'