Scared Yet? (13 page)

‘How're you doing in here?' Kelly asked from the door.

Liv looked up, tears blurring her vision. She lifted the pieces of Cameron's dish, spoke through clenched teeth. ‘He
broke
it.'

Kelly came around the desk and squatted beside her. ‘I'm so sorry.'

Liv moved the misshapen clock to her lap. ‘Insurance doesn't cover
this
.' Kelly put a hand on her back, rubbing it gently. She meant well but comfort wasn't what Liv wanted. She wanted to rant and shout at the injustice of it. She wanted to grab the guy by his collar and shake him until his damn head rattled. Who the hell was he? And what did he want from her?

You should be scared.

She pulled in a shaky breath, pressed her lips together. Scared was absolutely how she felt. Someone had used her office to demonstrate their intent. But she was mad, too. And that felt a whole lot better.

‘Do you want to stay with us for a while?' Kelly asked.

Did she? Kelly and Jason's house was a 1940s timber bungalow, renovated out the back, the original structure at the front. Liv'd never taken a close look at their locks but it was unlikely they'd been changed for years. ‘No offence but I feel safer at the townhouse now.'

‘Do you want me to come and stay with you? Or Jason?'

She shook her head. She didn't want to separate another family and she didn't know how long this would go on. Company was a good idea, though. ‘I think I'll give Sheridan a call. She said Andy was away this week.'

‘Well, let me know if she can't make it,' Kelly said as she stood to leave. ‘I've got to go home but I'll be on the mobile if you need me.'

Liv glanced up quickly. ‘Is something wrong?'

A line appeared and disappeared between Kelly's brows. ‘No, I've got to change before the meeting.' She held her arms out, showing Liv her jeans and sweatshirt and hair in its messy ponytail.

Liv stared blankly for a moment. ‘What meeting?'

‘I'm seeing Toby Wright in his office at two.'

A wave of guilt rolled through her. She'd forgotten about it. ‘Oh, of course. Do you want to run through it?' It was what they usually did for the big ones and this one needed to be right.

‘No, I'm good. Don't worry about it. You should go home, too, and get some rest.'

Yes, she would, later. Then she'd turn up for work again tomorrow. And keep turning up. She didn't know what that bastard was hoping to achieve but
scared
wasn't going to knock her off her feet.

16

‘Yeah, with bells on,' Sheridan said when Liv filled her in on the break-in and asked her to stay. ‘Ashley will be ecstatic the wicked stepmother is out of the picture for a night.' Sheridan's partner Andy was older by fifteen years and the father of two daughters in their twenties. The younger one lived with them and hadn't come to terms with the fact that half the house was Sheridan's. ‘Can I stay until Sunday?'

Liv laughed like it was ridiculous but was tempted to tell her to bring a suitcase.

‘I'll drop by home after the news and grab a few things. Hey, how about I throw in some running gear? We could do an early one if you feel up to it in the morning.'

‘Sounds good. I could do with stretching my legs after this week.' Maybe her injuries could handle a short trot in the park by then.

Liv and Sheridan had been running buddies at uni. When Cameron's shared custody arrangement had started, Sheridan suggested the two of them get together for a run during the weeks he was with his father. She was short
and her pace wasn't Liv's but she had stamina and the companionship was nice. It was just company she needed from Sheridan tonight, though. Someone to be cynical and incensed with and Sheridan was the it girl for that.

She bagged the last remains of her office, moved the stacked files to the empty desktop so Ray could vacuum and left the ruins of her computer and desk drawers out for him to dispose of. She was washing fingerprint dust off her hands in the kitchenette when she heard Kelly return and talk to Teagan out in reception.

‘Is Liv still here?' she asked quietly.

‘In the kitchen,' Teagan replied just as softly.

Liv grabbed a handtowel and took it with her. ‘How did it go with Toby?' she said from the doorway.

Kelly glanced up quickly. ‘You should be home by now. You look exhausted.'

‘I've just finished the clean-up. So what happened?'

She frowned a silent scolding before giving up the details. ‘It went well. The job is bigger than he originally let on. He's not just expanding the office, he's starting a staff training centre. If we get the work, we'll be finding trainers as well as temps and casuals for the office.'

‘That's great. Amazing. This could be it.' She smiled properly for the first time in days. It felt like her cheeks might crack. ‘Are we still the only ones he's talking to?'

‘I think so and he seems keen. He asked me a whole range of questions, and seemed to like that I've worked in training before. Said he might call me tomorrow with a few ideas. I don't know what that means but apparently they want to move fast.'

Liv punched the air with her fist. ‘Yes!'

‘Yay!' Teagan cheered.

‘Okay, that's all I'm going to tell you,' Kelly said. ‘You have to go home now, Liv. No excuses. You need some rest.'

‘Don't worry, I'm going.' She'd heard all she needed to, felt more hopeful than she'd thought possible today. It was four o'clock, she'd been there almost eleven hours – it was time to get the hell out of Dodge.

‘This whole situation is unbe
liev
able,' Sheridan said before Liv had the front door all the way open.

Liv returned her hug, dropped her overnight bag by the stairs, took the proffered bottle of wine and rehooked the new security chain.

‘What are the cops doing? Have they got any leads? They must know something.' Sheridan stood inside the door, hands on her hips as though she wasn't going anywhere until she had the full story.

‘I'll tell you everything later, after a drink. Right now I need to
not
think about it for a while.'

‘You'll kill me with suspense but fair enough. You must be wrecked.' It was the first time Sheridan had been to the townhouse and she took a few steps, swept her eyes around. ‘What's with the baseball bat?'

Daniel had told her to listen to her fear and her fear was telling her to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. She'd rested Cameron's baseball bat against the wall near the front door. ‘Just in case. I figure it's like insurance – if I have it, I won't need it.'

‘What do I get?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, if someone breaks in, you've got a baseball bat to beat him off. What do I use?'

Liv grinned, glad to have her bravado. ‘I've got an umbrella by the garage access door. A big one. Will that do?'

‘Mary Poppins with attitude. I can do that. So this is the new place?'

‘Yep. Take a look around.'

As Sheridan opened doors and wandered upstairs, Liv pulled food from the fridge. She'd made a couple of stops on her way down Park Street so there'd be more than cheese and crackers on offer. ‘Small, huh?'

Sheridan propped against the bench. ‘Compared to Renwick Street, yes, but on the upside, it cuts down on the cleaning. And the air is so much sweeter without Thomas.'

‘You think?'

‘Definitely. Now hand over the glasses.' She poured the wine, slid one glass towards Liv and held her own aloft. ‘Cheers. To new beginnings.'

Liv clinked hers against it. ‘To a better start.'

Sheridan kicked off her ankle boots like she meant business and came around the counter. ‘Point me in the direction of a salad bowl.'

The kitchen was cramped but they'd cooked together plenty of times. They'd had nothing in common when they met fifteen years ago. Sheridan's parents were solicitors, she grew up in a luxurious family home with a private school education. She arrived at uni as sophisticated and
stylish as she was now – and she ran like a princess. Liv laughed the first time she'd turned up for soccer training, which had pissed off high-achieving Sheridan. But they were both competitive and each had something the other wanted. So Liv taught her to run like an athlete and Sheridan taught her about clothes and hair and make-up – the stuff Liv didn't learn growing up above a boxing gym.

Liv pan-fried chicken breasts and let Sheridan make her laugh with stories from the newsroom as they sat around the bench and ate. It felt good to have company in the townhouse, the kind that didn't make her feel like the lesser parent.

As they talked over a second glass of wine, Benny started up. Not the continuous racket she'd heard during the night but repeated yap-yaps until Trevor flung open the screen door and served up his food.

Liv watched the shadows in the light coming across the fence. ‘I bought new curtains today. I thought we could hang them tonight.'

‘Sure.' Sheridan laid her knife and fork across her plate, dropped her napkin on top. ‘What's the story with the guy who found you in the car park? I can't track him down.'

‘He's been great. He came here yesterday and installed new locks.'

Sheridan raised her eyebrows. ‘I couldn't even get him on the phone. I left messages all over the place. I even called a couple of Becks in the phonebook. One was his sister. She said she'd pass my number on but I got nothing.'

‘What did you want him for?' Liv stacked their plates and pushed them across the counter.

‘For the story. Well, that was on Tuesday. You know, a few words with the good Samaritan who found you. Then I googled him and got a better angle, which was why I was chasing him again yesterday. I thought it might be another chance to call for witnesses.' She held a hand in the air like she was blocking out a newspaper headline. ‘
Hero Still Coming to the Rescue
. Did you see that?'

‘Where?'

‘On the internet. Didn't you look him up?'

‘No. He was being nice, not applying for a job.'

Sheridan shrugged, as though there was no difference. ‘He was awarded a bravery medal a couple of years ago.'

Liv glanced up in surprise as she opened the dishwasher. ‘Well, if you have to have someone run to your rescue . . .'

‘Absolutely. Remember that building collapse on the Central Coast three years ago? He was in the Search and Rescue unit. He was the one who located the woman. He spent seven hours under slabs of unstable concrete with her until they got her out.'

Images of the disaster had been all over the media, first when it happened then again during the inquest into the deaths. Liv remembered the pictures – rescue workers covered in dust, the floodlit hole in the ground, the bloodied faces of victims, a stretcher swaying at the end of a crane as it was lifted out in the middle of the night. She thought of Daniel in the car park. He'd been decisive, in control, unfazed. ‘Monday night must have been a breeze in comparison to that.'

‘The fact you survived to tell your tale probably helped.
That woman died on the way to the hospital while Daniel Beck was still being dragged out of the hole.'

‘That's awful.' He told her he'd gone to Emergency to make sure she got home. Maybe it was to make sure she got there.

Sheridan divided the last of the wine between their two glasses. ‘The story I read said he left Search and Rescue about a year later.'

‘No big surprise he wanted a career change. How many times could you do that and stay sane?'

‘What's he like? He looked all dark and brooding in the photos. Part bad boy, part superhero. Totally beddable for a single girl like you.'

Liv finished loading the dishwasher and closed the door. ‘He could be George Clooney, for all I care.'

‘It's been almost a year, Liv.' Sheridan spoke a little softer. ‘You can't live like a nun for the rest of your life.'

Time to kill that conversation. ‘Okay, he's nice, which is why I wouldn't wish me on him. I'm bitter and twisted and it'd turn out bad. Probably make him bitter and twisted, too.'

‘You could have bitter and twisted sex.'

Liv rolled her eyes.

‘It can be fun, too.'

‘Give me a . . .'

A sound in the courtyard made Liv's eyes snap to the sliding door. It was brief but clear. A click or a tap. Then something heavy smashed on the pavers and the dog next door went crazy.

He was here.

She pictured a man in black swinging at her windows, took a step back, braced for an explosion of glass. But what came next was much quieter.

‘Fuck.'

The voice was male. Loud enough to be heard over the dog, half whispered like it was trying not to be.

She took another step back, felt a wall against her shoulderblades.

Outside, there was a quick scattering, like pebbles on a footpath, then a hard, dull thump at the far end of the windows. It rattled the sliding door in its track, kept going all the way up her spine.

A shadow, crouched and low, scuttled through the light shining on the old sheet. It moved in a straight line from the far end towards the kitchen. A second later, a figure ran past the window.

17

Liv's eyes flew to Sheridan's. Maybe it was because they were running partners or maybe they both hated to lose a challenge but some kind of silent signal passed between them that had the effect of a starter's gun. In the same instant, they leapt into action, taking off across the lounge room, moving swiftly and quietly as though it had been prearranged.

Liv scooped up the baseball bat, reached for the security chain on the front door. Sheridan ran for the access door, came back with the umbrella and held it like a club.

‘Okay,' she whispered.

Liv pulled the door open fast. She'd never played baseball but she made like she was swinging for a home run in case the bastard was there ready to take the shot first. He wasn't. The only thing in the doorway was light from the porch. Beyond it was the darkness of the driveway.

A metallic rattle came from outside, off to the right.

‘The gate,' Liv whispered.

She stepped into cool night air, tightened her hold on the bat as she looked along the front wall. Sheridan followed, the umbrella held in front with both hands.

A figure launched itself off the top of the gate and landed badly on the concrete, hard on one knee, a hand skidding on the rough surface.

‘Hey!' Liv yelled. It was loud. More aggressive than she felt.

There wasn't enough light at the corner of the house to make out more than short, dark hair, white arms and red clothing as the man half turned towards them before starting for the driveway.

Rachel Quest's words rang in Liv's ears.
Call triple-0 if you're worried
. Oh, yeah, she was worried. He was here. He knew where she lived. But the cops had no idea who he was. If she ran back inside and picked up the phone, he'd be gone. And they'd be none the wiser.

It wasn't just that, though. He was right in front of her, metres away. She wanted to see the bastard. Get a look at the face of the man who'd beaten her up and destroyed her office.

She glanced back at Sheridan, saw she was waiting for Liv to make a call. ‘Pull the door and head left,' she said softly, leaping the two steps to the pavement and taking off at a run.

The guy was at the bend in the driveway, taking loping, awkward strides around a bad limp. He must have hurt something when he fell. Behind her, she heard Sheridan make the jump down the steps and go wide.

Liv took a direct course at him, baseball bat at her side
in her uninjured left hand, the concrete underfoot jarring against her stockinged feet. The guy was going nowhere fast and she was picking up speed. He looked over his shoulder, saw her at his back and jagged left, heading for the fence into the neighbouring property.

He lunged at it from too far away, caught the top with his hands but the rest of his body slammed into the metal with a crash that echoed in the quiet evening. He held on, feet scraping frantically against the smooth surface, trying to hoist himself up and over.

‘Hey, you fuck!' Liv thwacked the bat against the metal at his side.

She'd hoped it would make him stop and surrender but it spurred him on. He flattened a shoe against the fence, got purchase and lifted himself off the ground.

She swapped the bat to her other hand and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. It was a long, red top, a singlet with a number on the back and she dragged on it. It didn't bring him down, just held him in place, half up, half down.

‘Get the fuck off the fence!' Sheridan yelled. She had the umbrella by its pointy end, brandishing the curved handle like she might hook him around the throat. The team captain in Liv made her want to shout, ‘Good job.'

For a long moment, no one moved. The bastard just held on tight to the fence, feet flat on the metal, butt out towards the driveway, an armed and angry woman on either side and Benny the dog sounding like he'd rip off a leg if he was given the chance. Then he gave it up. Let go, dropped to the ground and turned around.

Liv had imagined a cruel face, bruising on one cheek, hate in his eyes. What she saw in the light from her neighbour's porch wasn't anything like that. He was a kid. A tall, gangly, sweaty teenager. A long, damp fringe that hung over a smart-arse expression, a patch of bum fluff on his chin. Fifteen, at most.

‘What were you doing in my yard?' Liv demanded.

‘Get your hands off me or I'll sue you for assault.' It was said with all the self-righteous arrogance of a teenager with half an idea about the law.

‘Great and I'll see you done for trespass. And that's just for starters, you little shit.' Her heart was pounding, her breath was coming hard and not just from running. Was it him? Had this
kid
beaten her up? She licked her lips, shifted the weight of the bat in her injured hand. ‘Sit down. Against the fence.' He gave her a belligerent adolescent sneer that might have made her think twice about shouting at him if he hadn't just jumped her gate.

Releasing his shirt, she moved a little closer but it was Sheridan who yelled, ‘
Sit!
' He looked at her, then at Liv and started to lower himself.

Liv watched the kid favour an ankle, doing a little skip as he found his balance to bend down, taking his time to get there. He was tall but his arms were thin with only the beginnings of firm, young muscle in the deltoids. He had chunky sport shoes and long, baggy shorts that matched the top. It looked like a basketball uniform hanging off his shoulders and moving against his torso in a way that suggested a skinny, bony body underneath.

The bastard in the car park had been big and strong.
He'd had some weight behind his fists. And Liv had hit him hard, she'd broken a knuckle doing it. This kid's face didn't have a mark on it. Maybe there were two of them?

‘What were you doing in my yard?'

He lifted a petulant chin. ‘Fuck off, lady.'

‘Oh, nice,' Sheridan said. ‘You run through someone's property then you tell
them
to fuck off. I'm going to call the cops.' She moved a hand to the back pocket of her jeans.

Liv had no idea if she had a phone – it didn't seem likely she'd fit one in there – but the kid believed her. He held up both his hands. ‘Okay, okay, sorry. Don't call the cops. I didn't think anyone was home.'

‘What were you going to do if I wasn't home?' Liv leaned down and spoke in his face. ‘Break in and smash my house up, too? Give it the same treatment as my office?'

His eyebrows shot up in alarm. ‘What the fuck are you talking about? I wasn't breaking in. I broke a pot. That's all and it was an accident, all right? Someone moved the fucking bin and I landed in the wrong spot. I didn't know it was there. I'm usually further down the garden. And I sprained my fucking ankle, okay?' He said the last part as though getting injured made up for the rest of it.

Liv straightened up, licked her lips again, tried to think it through. ‘What do you mean
usually
?'

‘I take a short cut through my mate's place in Boronia Street.' He pointed in the direction of the road behind Liv's townhouse. ‘I get dropped off there after basketball and it
takes ages to walk all the way around so I just, you know, take a short cut. I didn't know you were going to be there. There's never been anyone there before.'

‘Oh, yeah, right.' She said it sarcastically but uncertainty made her hesitate. It was Thursday night. She usually did the groceries on Thursday after work. If Cameron was with her, they might stop somewhere for a bite. If he wasn't, she'd work late, traipse through the aisles and pick up something easy to heat up. ‘Where do you live?'

‘At number twenty-nine.' He pointed towards the street in front. ‘The house with the big grey columns.'

Liv knew the place. It was across the road and a block down, one of the few properties that weren't stacked back-to-back with townhouses. Would he lie about that when she could walk down there now and knock on the door? Were fifteen-year-olds that brazen these days?

‘What's your name?' Sheridan kept at him.

‘Ryan Blaston. Please don't call the cops. My dad'll kill me.'

Liv exchanged a glance with Sheridan. The boy didn't look so audacious now. He looked like he was about to cry. Maybe it was maternal pity but she didn't think he was lying. This kid hadn't whispered in her ear, hadn't gone into a frenzy in her office and written threatening notes. She let the bat fall to her side, suddenly guilty she'd turned her anger on him. If someone had done that to Cameron just for running through a yard, she'd be ropable.

‘All right, you can get up.' She stepped back, making space for him, waiting until he was on his feet. ‘Is your ankle okay?'

He tested it, winced like a big wuss.

‘Can you walk home?' she asked.

He eyed off the bat and nodded.

She injected parental know-it-all into her voice. ‘Well, Ryan, I hope you learned a lesson from this. Don't go running through people's yards without permission. And don't tell a woman to eff off. It's not nice. Now go home and if I see you in my place again, I'm coming down to number twenty-nine to talk to your father. Okay?'

‘Yes.' He nodded again, all the self-righteous arrogance whipped by embarrassment and shame.

‘Go on, then.'

As he limped down the driveway, Sheridan stood beside her, holding the umbrella like a walking stick. ‘You sure?'

‘Yeah, he's just a smart-arse kid. Not even that really when it got to the crunch.'

Now the heat of the fight had gone out of her the air felt cool and she folded her arms across her chest as she watched him all the way to the street. Benny had finally stopped barking and the silence in his wake and the darkness at their backs made her uneasy. She took Sheridan's arm and hustled her back to the townhouse.

Liv shut the door, turned the key in the deadlock, slid the security chain into its slot. Her heart had slowed but her hands were trembling.

‘That bloody kid scared the crap out of me.' She propped the baseball bat against the wall again.

Sheridan had a hand on her chest and a grin on her lips.

‘What?'

Sheridan let out a quick laugh, cut it off. ‘Not half as much as we scared him. Did you see his face?' Her shoulders shuddered as she smothered a chuckle. ‘Two crazy women in socks.'

Liv dropped her eyes to her feet, saw her big toe poking through a green sock.

‘Wielding weapons and dragging him off the fence like undercover cops.' She mimed holding a gun and deepened her voice. ‘Freeze, you fuck!'

Liv grinned. The shouting and swearing did seem a tad over the top now they were safely inside and the kid had gone home for dinner.

Sheridan pointed a finger at Liv like a cross school-teacher as she mimicked her final warning. ‘
I hope you learned a lesson from this.
'

A chuckle worked its way out of her throat. ‘The poor kid. I nearly made him cry.'

‘Yeah but you gave good advice. Don't tell a woman to eff off, you little shit.' Sheridan laughed out loud.

Liv joined her, quietly at first, a little ashamed of her overt aggression. But the truth was that it had felt good to belt down the driveway, to yell and make demands and be in control. To be assertive instead of just standing still and fretting. They hooted their way to her sofas, sprawling across them as the laughter ran its course. It had been too long since Liv had howled with laughter and it felt strange and cleansing and therapeutic.

As the room fell silent, Liv's eyes strayed to the strip of glass in the gap between the old sheet and the floor. She could see soil and broken chunks of terracotta pot
scattered on the pavers outside and remembered the thud on the windows.

‘I need a drink,' Sheridan said.

‘I need to get the curtains hung,' Liv answered.