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Authors: Malla Duncan

BOOK: One Night
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‘Who is it?’ My voice was shaking.

‘It’s Todd.’

I stood a moment, trying to process
this.
Todd?
Shannon’s Todd?

Rudely, I blurted, ‘What do you
want?’

There was a pause, a scuffling
sound. ‘I’ve brought you some fruit. Shannon wanted me to drop it off.’

I pulled myself together, opened
the door. Todd was smartly dressed, wearing a grey overcoat. His eyes were
wary, intrigued. A large packet rustled in his hands.

‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ he said
apologetically. ‘But Shannon’s on stage tonight. She thought you might like
some fruit. We bought some for you,’ he added pointlessly.

I pulled the door wider. ‘Come in,’
I said. ‘That’s very kind of you.’

Todd wandered in, looking around as
though he expected someone else to be there. Standing barefooted, looking up at
him, I realized how tall he was. Dark hair cut monk-like around a square head,
his black eyes narrow and inscrutable. He dropped the packet on the kitchen
counter and slipped off the coat. Still apologetic, he murmured, ‘I can’t stay
long. I’m expected at the play.’ He ran a glance over me. ‘You wouldn’t like to
come, would you?’

I shook my head. ‘Not in the right
frame of mind or the right clothes. But thanks anyway.’

He nodded. ‘That’s okay.’ He stood,
waiting.

Awkwardly, I asked, ‘Would you like
something to drink?’

A smile kinked up his Chinese-like
eyes. There was a dimple in his left cheek. ‘I’ve got a couple of minutes. I
wouldn’t mind a beer, if you’ve got.’

‘Sure.’ I shuffled into the
kitchen. ‘What show is Shannon in?’

‘Something to do with a unicorn.’

I slammed the fridge door. ‘Sounds
like you don’t know.’

‘Well, I don’t actually. They kept
changing the title when it was being rehearsed. So now I’m not sure what they
eventually ended up with.’ He took the beer from me, sat uninvited on the
couch. My heart sank. He looked as though he was settling in for a while. I sat
on the couch opposite, wondering what to say.

‘Cheers!’ He raised the beer.

For want of anything better, I
saluted.

He laughed. ‘Yes sir, that’s my
baby!’

Despite myself, I grinned. I had to
admit he was a rather attractive man. I liked the way his eyes squeezed almost
shut when he laughed. He looked like a naughty schoolboy who’d just committed a
practical joke on some hapless person.

‘Do you attend all her shows?’

‘Well, yes. Not that there’ve been
that many. She was at a bit of a loose end for around five months.’

‘That’s the problem with acting.
Employment is erratic. You never know where your next pay is coming from.’

‘That’s why she’s with me,’ he said
with a touch of rancour. ‘I’m the one with the money.’

I caught the resentment in his tone
and thought it safer to get off that topic. ‘Thank you for coming to Mona’s
funeral today.’

‘She was a friend of Shannon’s.’

‘Yes, but still, you didn’t know
her that well and you didn’t need to be there.’

‘Moral support. Shannon was pretty
cut up, you know.’

‘Yes, well, it was all so tragic.’

‘Have they charged the bastard
yet?’

‘You mean Brent? No. There will be
some sort of hearing and once they decide that there’s enough evidence, things
will go to trial.’

He looked intrigued. ‘You’ll be a
key witness.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘You scared?’

This question was so to the point,
I squirmed. ‘Why should I be scared?’

‘Well, he’s wandering around freely
at the moment. Can’t think you’d be his favourite person right now.’

‘Well, I’m not. But he has his
attorneys, I’m sure.’

‘And you have yours?’

‘Well, I’m not under any
suspicion.’

‘You put away that Bunting guy with
a fair amount of style.’

I was annoyed. ‘Why do you keep
talking about that?’

He leaned forward suddenly, as
though he had at last come to the real point of his visit. ‘I like the way you
handled things, that’s why. I admire you, Casey. Simple as that.’

I was a little at sea, not sure of
where things were going. ‘Thank you, Todd. But I handled things without
thinking. Everything was instinctive. I don’t think I was particularly clever
about anything.’

‘Spunk,’ he said loudly. ‘That’s
what I like.’

I felt off centre. He was looking
at me intently, his narrow dark eyes deep as cuts in his square face. I
couldn’t think of anything to say. What I’d done in the woods had come from desperation.
Neither calculation nor bravery were part of it. But Todd had chosen to judge
me from a military point of view; I had been courageous, faced the enemy on my
own and used ingenious strategy to my advantage. I had come home scarred but
triumphant. Medals in shining glory would soon be pinned across my chest.

Nevertheless, under all that was a current
which had nothing to do with admiration. He leaned forward on the couch, broad
shoulders straining at his shirt, feet planted widely apart. He was a trained
soldier. He dominated the room, letting that sense of power seep towards me. Under
different circumstances, I might have been attracted to him – all that brazen
masculinity. But Shannon was my friend, and Stephen was Todd’s friend. What he
was implying more by attitude than words, was not on the agenda. He was being underhand.
In a second I felt sorry for Shannon. Should I tell her about this? Or just let
it play out and trickle to a halt?

Mildly, I said: ‘We’re all driven
by a sense of survival, Todd. When your life’s at stake, you do whatever you
can to survive. Things that happen then don’t necessarily reflect the genuine attributes
of a person.’

He grinned. ‘God, I love the way
you talk! You’re so damn spiky!’

I looked at him in dismay. I’d
meant to deflate the situation and had only made him more interested than ever.

‘Spiky,’ I repeated. ‘That’s me. Sharp
as knives. So you better just keep your distance.’

He took this as a come-on.

‘You can stab me full of holes
anytime.’

There was a look in his eye that
made me recoil. He knew he was out of line but suffered no guilt. For this
reason, other than my present state of anxiety, I felt a tiny rill of fear. I
could write Todd off as irrelevant except for the instinctive feeling he would
take rebuff seriously. Offensively. I guessed he would be an ‘eggshell’ person
– someone with whom you had to weigh every word before speaking. Always the
most difficult people to handle.

‘Been nice chatting, Todd. But I
think you’d better go now.’

He shifted to the edge of the
couch, his eyes steady on mine. ‘Come out with me, Casey,’ he urged. ‘Now,
tonight. Let’s go somewhere and have dinner and talk.’

Aghast, I stared at him. ‘What
about Shannon’s play?’

He gave an irritated toss of his
head. ‘Fuck the play. I’ve seen enough to last a while, I can tell you. And
she’s always so bloody bad-tempered afterwards.’

Weakly, I responded, ‘I think it
the tension of the evening. You know, up on stage for a couple of hours in
front of people. Not exactly relaxing. She needs to get a little of the angst
out, I should imagine.’

‘Yeah? Well, I’ve had enough of it.
Let’s take a break. You and me. C’mon, you know you need to have some fun. I
think we’d be good together, Casey.’

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Why not? You going to give me some
loyalty crap?’

‘Well, yes. That’s it exactly.’

‘Sheesh!’ He shook his head. ‘Lighten
up, will you? Shannon and I never quite made the grade, you know. And you’re
currently on your own. We’d make a better pair.’

‘I don’t do stuff like that. If
you’re going to break up with Shannon then you’d better do that first before
you make any moves towards me.’

‘You brushing me off?’

‘I think you should do things
properly. I’m not going out with you behind Shannon’s back.’ I would
never
go out with him, but now wasn’t the time to tell him.

‘Ah,’ he said, smiling. ‘Where’s
the spice in life then?’

‘Not here and not now,’ I said
firmly.

He looked at me for a long moment.
Then gave a snort of mirth. ‘You’re a little fighter and no mistake!’

For one horrible moment, he
reminded me of Brent. He was making fun but underneath was that same curious
undercurrent I’d felt before. Threat suddenly ripe in the air.
Go out with
me, do things my way, or see what happens.

Maybe it was just my overactive
imagination which had been on high alert since that night in Witch’s Wood, but
I found myself developing a dislike for Todd Pennington that wasn’t far from
that which I’d evinced for the Buntings. They were cast in the same mould: any
opposition was seen as a direct attack.

‘I think you should leave,’ I said
pointedly.

He sank back on the couch and
sighed as though I was being difficult for no particular reason. ‘Alright,
Casey. I’m coming at you too fast, right? We’ll talk another time.’

‘No, we won’t. I’m not really
available for talking.’

He seemed to find everything I said
amusing. ‘Sorry, am I treading on toes here? Have you got yourself some nerdy
little guy with a sports car?’

‘No, actually I’m seeing Stephen
again.’

He stilled. I had a sudden feeling
I’d said entirely the wrong thing.

‘Stephen?’

‘Yes.’

‘But he’s got a girlfriend. I’ve
seen her.’

‘She’s not his girlfriend.’

‘So she’s what then?’

‘They’re just friends.’

He gave a snicker of laughter.
‘Well, that’s convenient! Are you making
him
break up with her nice and
proper before you agree to see him?’

I flushed. ‘There’s no need to say
that. They’re not an item.’

Todd pulled a face at me, still
laughing. ‘And you believe that?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.’

He slid to the edge of the couch.
He was thoroughly satisfied. The power was all his. ‘I think you’re confused,
Casey Blaydon. We’ll get together soon and talk about this.’

‘No, we won’t.’

He stood up. ‘Don’t be silly.
You’re being defensive for no reason.’

‘I don’t want to see you again.’

He looked down at me. ‘You going to
tell Shannon that?’

I didn’t answer him. He knew I was
in a difficult spot. He knew I could not test loyalty with Shannon who was
never going to test it with him. If I blurted out the truth about Todd, she
would not believe me. I would lose a friend – which would only make things
easier for Todd.

I stood up. My head hardly came to
his shoulder. ‘You get out now,’ I said, trying to keep my voice even. ‘And
don’t you dare cause trouble between me and my friends.’

He put his hand out and held my
face, his thumb gently tracing the bruising on my cheek, the cut at my mouth.
‘I’m not interested in your friends,’ he said softly. ‘You’re the one I’m
obsessing about.’ He moved his hand before I could take a breath. Slid it down
my neck, abrasively across one breast to my waist, and then to my hip.

Instinctively, I raised my hand to
slap him but he caught my wrist midair, shook my arm around like a flyswatter.
‘Naughty,’ he said. ‘We’ll save that for when we’re in the mood.’

‘You get out,’ I spat. ‘And you
don’t come back!’

He shrugged me off, gave that laugh
again. Made for the door.

‘Adios!’ he said happily. And was
gone.

I stood there shaking, realizing he
had achieved exactly what he’d come for. He had come to frighten me and he had
succeeded. Like all men with this type of mindset, he believed he could control
me through fear, feed his own weak ego by weakening mine.

I swayed, looking at the oblong
frame of the door, the lock, the bolt, the unused chain. Fear and the woods
were still alive, here in the familiar surroundings of home.

DI Cartwright had nothing good to tell me. He stood with his back to the
window, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back. A blue and white
handkerchief lay in two regimented folds in his breast pocket. It was early
evening, the light filtered around him, emphasizing the grey wings of hair at his
temples.

‘You think Brent Sedgeworth is a
threat to you?’

‘His words, not mine, Inspector.’

‘And you think it’s serious enough
to warrant protection?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘The thing is, he is under
suspicion but is not about to be charged with anything. So he may be around for
quite some time. And if he’s not to be charged then there’s no reason for him
to threaten you.’

‘I can’t believe he’s just walking
around scot free.’

He looked awkward. ‘No evidence
doesn’t mean he’s “getting off”. It means we have as yet no solid grounds to
accuse him of being the perpetrator.’

‘But you have no proof that he’s
not?’

He looked impatient. ‘There is
co-incidence, conjecture, juxtaposition. All of that leads to inference but not
necessarily proof. We can’t act as yet.’

‘He’s like a cat with nine lives,’
I said bitterly.

‘Yes.’ Cartwright’s tone was
kindly. ‘But I assure you, Ms Blaydon, if there’s a chink of light, we’ll find
it.’

‘So the investigation goes on?’

‘Of course it goes on. Nothing
closes until we find the truth.’

‘He still claims Matthew Bunting
did it?’

Cartwright looked askance. He had
bad news. I could feel it.

‘To be honest, under current
assessment, Matthew Bunting is our preferred suspect.’ He put up his hand as I
began to remonstrate. ‘That’s because we
do
have evidence against
Bunting.’

I was shaken. ‘You have evidence that
Matthew killed Mona?’


May
have killed Mona. We
found some of her underwear in the Bunting house.’

For a moment I couldn’t speak. His
measured, matter-of-fact words carried such an element of sordid horror.

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