Scared Yet? (15 page)

20

Liv crouched behind the brick wall of letterboxes, her heart thumping.

Was he still here?

The greying evening had created murky shadows in the garden. Plenty of places to hide.

Her car was lit up like a ship at night, the headlights blazing down the driveway, the internal light casting a glow on the fence through the open driver's door. No unexplained shadow, no movement. She grabbed the mail from the box, skittered to the car, knocking her broken knuckle on the chassis as she threw herself in. She hit central locking and drove cautiously towards the garage, craning her neck, checking the dark spaces between the townhouses then stopping outside the garage.

Had he been to the house? Should she walk around to check for signs of entry? In the deepening twilight?

Her phone was in her hand before she stopped to think. The police? Would they rush over because she found
another note? Jason would. But Daniel could pick up a man and throw him.

‘Hey, Slugger.'

She could hear the smile in his voice, wanted to yell,
He's been to my house!
But she took a breath, tried to speak slowly, calmly. ‘He left a note at my house. I . . . I'm . . . Could he get inside?'

‘Where are you now?'

‘In the car outside my townhouse.'

‘Okay. I'm not far away. Take a drive around the block and I'll see you there in five.'

There'd been no hint of alarm in Daniel's voice. It should have made her feel better but he'd told her to take a drive. Meaning don't wait there. Meaning the bastard could be there so you need to be somewhere else.

She reversed out and drove up and down the street until Daniel's four-wheel drive appeared. Flicking her lights to high beam as the garage door rolled up, she scanned the inside before going in. Daniel parked in the driveway, met her at the bumper of her car. He was wearing suit trousers and a T-shirt, as though he'd been halfway through changing and dropped everything to get here.

‘Thanks for coming,' she said.

He took a second to run his eyes over her. ‘No problem. Have you been inside?'

‘No. I found the note and thought I'd wait for backup.'

He smiled, like he thought that was a little cute. ‘Okay. Put the door down and we'll go in through the garage.'

He didn't flatten against walls and peep around corners.
Maybe he figured his bulk was enough to make a person think twice about jumping out of the darkness. Liv followed him, flicking lights, setting the lower level ablaze with electricity. He opened the doors to the half-bath and laundry. As he headed to the kitchen, she picked up the baseball bat by the front door. If the bastard was waiting around the corner with a shotgun, it wasn't going to be much help but it felt better than being empty-handed.

‘All clear,' he told her as he came back out, then registered the bat and raised his eyebrows.

‘Just in case,' she said.

‘Don't be too quick on the draw. I like my head where it is.'

A few minutes later, she stood in the hall, listening to him in her bedroom – a wardrobe door rolled open and closed, the ensuite light switched on and off.

‘Doesn't look like anyone's been here,' he said as he came out.

She dodged his gaze as he passed her in the corridor. He'd been in her bedroom to install the window lock but this time she'd told him to look around – and he had, she'd heard it. Did he read rooms like people? Had he seen the loneliness and hurt she took to bed with her?

She walked behind him down the stairs, watching the solid mass of his back, recognising the kind of bulk that came from natural size and hard-grunt work-outs. What her father would call a brick shithouse. What her teenage eyes had lusted after in the old gym.

‘What does the note say?' Daniel asked when they were back in the lounge room.

‘What the hell does it matter?' Liv answered. ‘He knows where I live. For all I know, he's walked around my house and looked through the windows.'

He glanced at the rear of the townhouse. ‘He wouldn't have seen much. You kept the curtains closed.'

He was right. The only view in was through the gap at the bottom of the kitchen blind and all he would've glimpsed was the upturned glass on the sink.

‘Do you want to open it while I'm here?' he asked.

In case it said she had ten seconds to get out? In case she collapsed and needed to be carried out? She went back to the car for her bag, pulled on washing-up gloves, laid the envelope on the kitchen counter and read the words she'd ignored before –
Ms Livia Prescott
. Daniel stood calmly at her shoulder as she sliced through the flap.

It wasn't a note this time. It was a card. Glossy cover with a single, white lily on the front. There was no printed message inside – just the one in blue, scrawled handwriting.

‘I need a drink,' Liv said.

She tossed the card on the counter, ripped off the rubber gloves and pulled a half-full bottle of wine from the fridge. She didn't ask Daniel if he cared to join her, just poured two glasses and handed him one, not wanting to be the only one in need of fortification. She swallowed hard on the cold bite of alcohol. He just held his and watched her.

‘I'm fine. Don't make me drink alone.' She paced to the sink, pointed at the card from across the kitchen. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

‘You should phone this in to Rachel.'

‘It's a lily. You send lilies to funerals.'

‘Get her to have a patrol car make some passes down your street.'

She stalked to the stove. ‘
What
can happen anywhere, anytime?'

‘You should get onto it as soon as possible. It's Friday night, they'll be focused on the pubs.'

She walked back to him. ‘Does he mean he can ransack my house now that he knows where I live?'

He said nothing.

‘That's two notes in one day. What the hell does
that
 mean?'

‘Livia.'

‘What?'

‘You won't figure this arsehole out.'

She closed her eyes.

‘Focus on what you can do.'

She took a gulp of wine. ‘Okay. You're right.'

‘Are you ready?'

She put the glass down, pushed the hair from her face with both hands. ‘Yes.'

‘Good. Start with the cops.'

Daniel checked the downstairs locks as Liv dialled Rachel's mobile. Wherever she was, it was noisy with loud, laughing voices. It sounded like a pub. Was she working or having Friday night drinks? Rachel asked her
to hold while she found a quiet spot then told her to read the message.

‘I'm going to organise for a patrol car to make a few sweeps of your street overnight.'

‘I live in a townhouse. You can't see it from the road.'

‘I'll make sure that's noted. They may go down your driveway at some point so don't worry if you see headlights.'

‘How often will they drive by?'

‘They'll probably make half-a-dozen or so passes.'

Liv looked at her watch. It was six-thirty. It would be dark for twelve hours. ‘You mean every two hours?'

‘Something like that.'

‘What about the time in between?'

There was a pause. Liv hoped she was thinking it through, not taking a sip of her beer and wondering how to get rid of the after-hours victim. ‘A visible police presence is usually enough of a deterrent in these situations. Stalkers don't want to get caught.'

These situations? How many other people had bastards staking out their homes?

‘What's your security like?' Rachel asked.

‘I've got new locks on all the doors and windows. Daniel Beck installed them a couple of days ago.'

There was another, longer pause filled with muffled sounds from wherever she was. ‘Right. Well, make sure you use them.'

Liv hung up, flipped on all the external lights and took another mouthful of wine. ‘Tell me again, Daniel. I'm safe here, right?'

He turned back from the curtains and watched her for a moment, making Liv wonder if he was deciding how to answer without causing panic. ‘The easiest way in is to take a sledgehammer to the glass. It's going to make a lot of noise and your neighbours are close.'

‘And stalkers don't want to get caught. Okay.'

As she took another sip of wine, he made a quick, surreptitious flick of his left wrist. Checking the time. Of course he was. He hadn't left his Friday night free in case Liv needed a bodyguard.

‘Well, I think I'm all set now. I've got a friend coming over. She'll be here soon. Actually, it's Sheridan Marr from View TV. She was trying to contact you the other day.'

A line appeared between his brows. ‘You're friends?'

‘Yes. She wanted to interview you. She said she left a bunch of messages.'

‘Yes.'

‘Did you talk to her?'

‘No.'

Liv paused, surprised by his sudden terseness.

He shrugged in response. ‘I had to talk to the media when I was with Rescue. I don't have to now and I'm not interested in bullshit headlines.'

‘You don't like being called a hero?'

‘The media hasn't got a fucking clue what a hero is.'

Wow. Daniel Beck, calm and unfazed, could be rattled by a media interview. It wasn't shyness, though, she could see that and she recognised the edge of bitterness in his sharp words. She'd heard it in her own voice for months and knew that a glib answer from her wasn't going to do
anything to alleviate it. So she stayed silent as he straightened the curtains over a gap, rubbed a hand over the dark stubble of his hair. When he turned round, the heat was gone from his eyes and the composure was back in his voice. ‘I can stay until she gets here, if you like.'

The brief peek at what lay under his controlled surface made her think a little time with him might be interesting. ‘Thanks but I'm fine and you've probably got a social life that needs your attention.'

He nodded. It seemed grateful.

‘Got a date, huh?' She grinned, ignoring the faint tick of disappointment.

He checked his watch again. What kind of woman made Daniel Beck worry about being late? ‘A birthday party, and it's starting early because the birthday girl has to be in bed by nine.'

With him? ‘Oh, well . . .'

He chuckled. ‘Not like that. It's a family dinner for my niece. She's six today.'

‘I absolutely don't want you to be late for that. I hope you bought her something fabulous.'

‘A soccer ball.' He pulled a dubious face. ‘I thought it was cool when I bought it but now I'm worried it's not girly enough.'

It was sweet that a six-year-old had thrown his confidence. She wanted to tell him it wasn't the present that counted, that his niece would remember his gift of family forever. ‘Girly is overrated. She'll love it.'

‘I hope so 'cause it's all I've got.'

You have plenty, Daniel. ‘You better go.'

He scanned the room first. Then her – some kind of assessment from the ground up. When he reached her face, she held her arms out. ‘I'm fine.'

‘How much more of that wine have you got?' He cocked his head at the bottle on the bench.

‘You worried I'm going to drink myself stupid?'

‘I thought you could get a little messy.'

‘It's an attractive thought but my plan is to pay attention and be ready to get the hell out.'

‘Can't do that with a bottle of wine on board.'

‘My thought exactly.'

He nodded.

‘Did I pass?' she asked.

‘Pass what?'

‘Whatever assessment you just put me through.'

Slowly, as though he'd been caught out, one side of his mouth turned up in half a smile. ‘Yeah, you passed.'

‘Okay, so now you can go say happy birthday to your niece.'

She led the way to the front door and paused, a hand on the deadlock, not wanting a conversation in the open doorway – not if there was someone out there watching. She turned abruptly, collided hard with Daniel. For half a second her breasts were crushed against the span of his chest then her bruised temple bounced on his shoulder as he grabbed her arms, the smell of washing powder from his fresh T-shirt wafting up between them.

‘Ouch!' She clutched her cheek, met his eyes in surprise – and a brief, unexpected flutter caught under her ribs. The sensation stunned her as much as the collision. She'd
written off the burnt-out shell of her heart as too far gone to ever register that kind of pulse again.

As Daniel held her a moment or two longer than accidental, she took in the coarse tips of his afternoon beard and the fine lines that ribbed his lips. When she reached the dark brown of his lashes, she saw his focus had dropped to her mouth. And stayed there. She should step away, she told herself. Let him know that avenue was a dead end. But she didn't.