Scared Yet? (29 page)

39

‘Where will you stay tonight, Liv?' Rachel asked. She'd told Liv they needed to talk, suggested they go to her car for privacy but as Liv eyed the huge pools of lamplight on the damp, almost empty hospice car park, her impatience grew.

‘I don't know. I haven't thought about it.' She couldn't think about anything but the words on the note she'd found in her father's room:

Rachel had arrived ten minutes after Liv sent a text and walked through the place looking tough and alert. The only time her attitude had faltered was when she'd stopped suddenly in the doorway of Liv's dad's room, something vulnerable and uncop-like sliding briefly through her eyes. Liv remembered Rachel's father had passed away from cancer only months ago and recognised it as a moment of realisation and memory and pain. Afterwards, Rachel had talked to staff, arranged for the bedside cabinet to be
removed for fingerprinting, organised hospital security to send some guards over and a police patrol car to do laps around the grounds during the night. But Liv wanted more than that from her tonight.

‘Are you going back to the townhouse?' Rachel pressed. She had the driver's seat racked back so she could face Liv as they talked, the gun at her waist protruding from her jacket.

‘I don't know. Why? Has something happened there?'

‘Is there a chance you'll stay with your friend again?'

There was impatience in her voice now. ‘I don't know. Is that what we need to talk about?'

‘What's your friend's name, Liv?'

She opened her mouth but uncertainty and apprehension stopped her.

‘Is it Daniel Beck?'

Liv's breathing grew shallow.

‘Did you stay at Daniel's house last night?'

‘Yes. Why?'

Rachel stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. ‘My advice to you is go home tonight, lock up like you have been and let the patrol car keep an eye on you.'

‘What are you saying?'

‘I'm saying you should be careful who you trust for the moment.'

‘Are you telling me I can't trust Daniel?'

Rachel's eyes flicked briefly to the windscreen and back. ‘I'm advising you to stay in your own home.'

Liv's voice was suddenly loud in the quiet car. ‘What the hell does that mean? Is it about Daniel or about staying at
home? Is something going to happen tonight? Because if it isn't, this . . . this
thing
won't be over tomorrow and there are people I love that can get hurt if I trust the wrong person.'

Rachel said nothing.

‘Come
on
, Rachel. It's my son and my father. How would you feel if someone was threatening your little boy or if someone had gone to your dad's room while he was sick and in pain? My father's a good man. He doesn't deserve to be scared to death.'

‘
Shit
.' Rachel swung around in her seat suddenly, gripped the steering wheel like she was about to wrestle it through a tight bend. Across the darkness of the car, her face remained calm but her lips were a taut line and her breathing was forced. ‘Okay.' It sounded more like a conclusion to some internal debate than an answer to Liv's plea. Then she turned, spoke firmly and clearly. ‘As a police officer, I can't provide a victim with information gathered in the course of an investigation.'

Liv looked away, pissed off. Rachel wasn't going to tell her anything.

‘So I'm not a cop right now, okay?'

Her head snapped back.

‘We're just friends,' Rachel said. ‘Having a chat, right? We are, aren't we? I call you Liv, don't I?'

Liv wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. ‘Yes, we're friends.'

‘Okay.' Rachel faced the windscreen, took a breath. ‘The way I see it the letters don't threaten you directly. They tell you to be scared. I think it's advice. I think the sender is worried about your safety and wants to protect you.
I think he's trying to prove to you that you're in danger, even if he has to create the danger himself.' She looked at Liv for confirmation.

‘All right. It makes sense in a distorted kind of way.'

‘Daniel Beck left the fire service with stress-related issues, one of which resulted in attention from police. There was another incident involving the cops a year ago. I'm not convinced he's over the problems he had when he left Rescue.'

He wasn't. He dreamt about dead people. Woke up in a lather of sweat most nights. But so what? Nightmares didn't prove he was a crazy man. ‘What's your point? Stress doesn't make you hurt people. Not when you've spent your life saving them.'

‘He also has a history of trying to protect women he cares about.'

‘What kind of history?'

‘The incidents involving the cops.'

Something about the way Rachel said it made Liv pause. Not the words but the upward tilt to her chin. She did that when she spoke to Daniel, part of the power play between them. Was that what this was about? Was their antagonism colouring Rachel's judgement? Because so far, her two-and-two wasn't adding up to anything that Liv knew about Daniel. ‘Or do you mean the incident between you and Daniel?'

Rachel's eyelids narrowed briefly. ‘It wasn't between Daniel and me.'

‘He said you didn't agree with something he did and it got personal.'

‘Yeah, it did. He didn't like me telling him to back off.'

‘So it was about you.'

‘No. It was about him. He thought he was protecting someone. He didn't take my advice and he took it too far.'

‘And that pissed you off.'

Rachel watched her for a second. Liv thought she was containing her irritation but when she spoke, there was only empathy in her voice. ‘No, Liv. He ended up with an apprehended violence order against him.'

Sweat tingled on Liv's scalp. He'd been violent? ‘What for?'

‘It was his second AVO. Unrelated situations. Both times, men alleged Daniel was harassing them over incidents involving women he cared for.'

Liv shifted her gaze from Rachel to the dark car park beyond the windows, tried to swallow down the lump of fear that had risen to her throat. Two incidents, two women. He'd clashed with the construction company owner outside the inquest after a solicitor had blamed Daniel for causing Leanne Petronio's death.
Courageous beyond belief
, he'd called her. His sister had accused him of not being able to let go.
He got the message
, Daniel had said about her ex-husband. ‘Was it Leanne Petronio and Carmel, his sister?'

Rachel blinked rapidly a couple of times. ‘I can't tell you names.'

But she hadn't said no. ‘Did he send notes?'

‘No.'

‘Did he hurt them?'

‘He threatened to. They believed him.'

‘That's not the same.'

‘I've had it around the wrong way,' Rachel said. ‘I thought the stalker was your husband, maybe, or someone at the suite of offices. I figured Daniel saw what was going on and was trying to step in, like he had before. But I think he's twisted it around. I think he needs to be saving someone to feel okay. And when he found you in the car park, it wasn't enough. I think he wants to keep saving you.'

No, it didn't make sense. ‘But I'm not the one getting hurt. It was Sheridan and Teagan.'

‘You're being stalked. You've been frightened and exposed. He's helped you. Fixed your locks, checked your property, bought you breakfast. It's another version of saving you.'

Liv licked her lips. ‘Yes, but . . .'

‘He's had access and the timing works. For the break-in at your office, for Sheridan's accident, for Teagan. He was even there for that. I'm guessing he threw her over the side then ran down to help her. Two rescues for the price of one.'

‘
No
. You didn't see him. He was torn apart by that.'

‘I asked him for a sample of his handwriting today and he refused.'

Dread snaked its way along Liv's spine.

‘I can't prove it yet but there's a very strong possibility,
more
than that, that Daniel is your stalker.'

A laugh pushed its way into her throat. It was absurd. Ridiculous. It wasn't Daniel. Oh, fuck. She squeezed her
eyes shut. He came to the hospital after the assault, he installed the locks himself, he sat with her in the cafe watching her car, escorted her to the police station, turned up every night to check her yard. He'd bought takeaway and made sure she was breathing. For a week, he'd dreamt she was dead. Something else forced its way up from inside. Disgust and shame, burning hot and acidic in her throat. She put her hands to her face. ‘Oh, fuck.' Last night. All night.

‘Liv?'

She felt Rachel's hand on her shoulder but shoved it away, heaved the door open, stumbled onto the dark tarmac. Her hand found the smooth metal of a lamppost. She leaned over and emptied the bile from her stomach.

As she retched, she heard the car door open, footsteps scrunch on the roadway, saw Rachel's shoes beside her. When she was done, the detective handed her a wad of tissues, then followed as Liv walked back to the car and pressed her hot palms to the cool bonnet.

‘Are you okay?' Rachel asked.

‘I slept with him.'

She didn't answer. What the hell could she say?

Anger and self-loathing sliced through her like a cold blade. ‘I had sex with him. I let him touch me. I introduced him to my son. Christ, I let him sleep in my home when my son was there. What kind of
mother
does that?'

‘You didn't know.'

Fury poured through her gritted teeth. ‘It's not an excuse. I should've known. I should've seen it. I looked in his goddamn eyes enough. What is
wrong
with me? I've fucked
everything up. My marriage. My business. My friends. I don't deserve to have Cameron. I can't keep him safe.'

Rachel grabbed her arm as she swung it in frustration and held her in place. ‘Listen to me, Liv. This is not your fault. You did nothing wrong.'

‘But it's still all wrong.'

‘Yeah, it's totally fucked up but it's not your fault. And I didn't tell you so you could beat yourself up.' She gave Liv a brief shake, a pay-attention. ‘I've seen you, you're a fighter. Don't let him make you feel weak. Knowledge is strength. Use it to protect yourself and your family. And let me do my job.'

Liv closed her eyes, clenched her fists, forced air in and out of her lungs. Yeah, Rachel was right. Heading off on some self-destructive guilt spree wasn't going to fix it. Wasn't going to keep her on her feet. Wasn't going to get Cameron back or keep the maniac away from her father. She opened her eyes. ‘So what are
you
going to do about him?'

Headlights appeared at the far end of the parking area, moving slowly along the road that circled the hospital grounds. Beside Liv, Rachel lifted her head. ‘It's the patrol car.' As it turned into the lot and started to make its way along the front windows of the hospice, Rachel found her cop mode again.

‘I'll have a warrant for a sample of Daniel's handwriting in the morning and it'll be sent to Sydney for document analysis. They're also trying to get fingerprints from your notes. I've got to warn you, though, the forensics takes time. It'll be a couple of weeks.'

‘
Weeks?
' The night air felt suddenly cold and she wrapped her arms around herself.

‘I've been given extra manpower to work on this now. This is not just a stalking charge. He's looking at grievous bodily harm at a minimum.'

It sounded serious. It should be. ‘You're not going to pick him up tomorrow, though, are you?'

‘No. It won't happen that fast. We need solid evidence for an arrest.' Rachel signalled the patrol car over.

This wasn't going to end overnight. She wasn't going to get Cameron back anytime soon. ‘What am I meant to do in the meantime? Lock myself in the townhouse and twiddle my thumbs?'

‘You go about your life and stay away from him.'

40

Anger made Liv grip the wheel too tightly as she left the hospital grounds, spinning tyres as she turned into the light evening traffic. Daniel had done it. All of it. She'd thought he was trying to improve things but he'd been deliberately making it worse. Kicking her while she was down. Maybe that was his point – so she'd be more likely to grab the hand he offered. You shit, Daniel.

She focused on the beam of her headlights and the edgy, restless energy ramping up inside her. Daniel hadn't kicked her. He'd kicked people she loved. Hurt her friends, made her send Cameron away, exhausted her father. And he'd encouraged her to do more than just grab his hand. ‘Well, fuck you.'

Her mobile thrummed the tune of an incoming text. Liv glanced at her bag on the passenger seat, felt a spasm of alarm in her chest. She took a hand off the wheel, fished around inside the bag, swerving sharply as she drifted into the next lane. Shit.

Maybe it was Cameron. It was late. He was upset when she spoke to him after school. She stopped at a red light, resentment welling as she read the text.

On way back. Can we talk? Mayb eat & talk?? I can pick up on way. Indian? Thai? Pizza? Burgers? D

A horn blasted behind her. The light was green. She took off in a hurry and found a spot to pull over. Daniel had manipulated his way into her life, assumed he had a place at her table. She could text back, tell him to fuck off – but there would be no satisfaction in a few abbreviated words. She dialled his number, breathing hard as she waited for him to answer.

‘Hey, Liv.'

His voice was low, gentle, a hint of regret, a suggestion of concern. And she realised, then, how he'd done it. He'd been everything she'd needed. Worried, protective, supportive. It was all deception. Lies. A scam to get what he wanted at her expense. And she'd paid dearly. Not just with her friends and Cam and her father. She'd trusted him. She'd opened a door that had been slammed shut and locked tight, let him in thinking he wanted to protect her when all he was planning was to hurt her more.

She felt like screaming at him but she didn't. He wanted someone to save. She wanted payback – and retribution was giving him no one to save. She made her voice cool, calm. ‘Hey, Daniel.'

‘Are you at home? Do you want me to check the yard?'

‘No. I'm not there.' And you're not invited.

‘Where are you?'

He had to know she'd been at the hospital, freaking
out about her father. Did he want to hear about it? ‘In the car.'

He paused. ‘Everything okay?'

‘Everything's . . .'
Gone to shit, you arsehole
, was what she wanted to yell. That wasn't exactly right, though, was it? She knew now. She could put a face to it all. It wasn't the face she'd expected, or wanted, but it was a face. Knowledge
was
power – and right now, it felt like a step up on the last week and a half. She knew and he didn't. He thought he was still running the game. He didn't know there'd been a switch in the play. ‘Everything's just fine, Daniel.'

‘Look, I know it's getting late but I want to explain. About this morning and leaving like that. Can we talk?'

Did she want to talk to him? Rachel told her to stay away from him but she was sick of hiding. She wanted him to leave her son and father alone and she had nine days' worth of bottled-up fear and fury to get her message across. ‘Where are you?'

‘Heading back to the office to pick up some gear. I'm about ten minutes away.'

So was she. Her eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror. Was he following her? Is that what he'd been doing all day – harassing her dad then keeping his eye on her to watch the fallout? But there was no one stopped behind her.

‘Have you eaten already?' he asked. ‘I can grab some dinner when I'm done, if you like.'

He was trying to make it happen. Maybe she'd let him – but not on his terms. He wasn't coming near the townhouse again and his place was enemy territory.
Park Street was a public place, on a main road. ‘I'll meet you at the office.'

‘You sure you want to go there?'

‘It's on my way.'

Liv drove past the office for two blocks, stopped at lights and swore. Where the hell was he? She took a left and worked her way back around to Park Street. It was eight o'clock and there were still plenty of cars parked along the kerb. People at cafes or the all-night chemist, she guessed. No sign of a dark four-wheel drive. She paused outside their building, peering through the glass in the front door. No lights inside. Would she see his office light from here? She looked across the road. Was he watching from another vantage point?

He'd said ten minutes. That was fifteen minutes ago. Maybe he'd been further away than he'd estimated. Maybe he was in the car park. Maybe he was dissatisfied with her tone and decided he'd go and hurt someone else she loved.

Anger gathered steam like a coal-fired engine. Who could he hurt now? Tonight? She imagined Kelly and Jason with their girls and her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Would he go to their house? What could he do at eight o'clock at night? Fire, home invasion, guns, knives. Plenty. Maybe she should ring Kelly, tell her not to open the door. And scare the crap out of her when she had other stuff to worry about? No, not yet. She hit the accelerator instead.

The car park was a bad place to be at night – she still had bruising to prove it. But she wasn't stopping to chat. She wanted to see if his car was there. See if he was playing hide-and-seek or if he hadn't turned up at all.

She kept her eyes on the dark, cavernous expanse of the ground floor as she followed the lane around the outside of the lot. It felt like deja vu. Slabs of concrete on the floor and ceiling, intermittent pools of dull light, massive shadowy columns. She expected to see herself skittering across the tarmac in her high heels, getting smacked in the face.

She counted five cars, spread out as though they'd been parked when the place was crowded then left stranded when everyone else had gone. There were two large vehicles on the office side. From this distance, across the dark space, she couldn't tell if either was his. Or whether he was sitting in one, watching her drive slowly past, deciding if she was scared enough.

Yeah, Daniel. She was scared. Of what he might do to another friend. Angry at what he'd done already. Fear and fury – it made her head spin and her arms tingle and her legs jumpy. Should she go in and check – or just go? Go where? If she went home, he might turn up on her doorstep with a pizza. If she didn't check, she wouldn't know if he was here or out hunting.

Her pass-card raised the boom gate at the entrance. Up ahead, the glow of her headlights was engulfed by the huge, dim space, two narrow beams in half a football field of parking. As she watched the bar drop down in the rear-view mirror, her anger froze and caution took a forward
step. She needed the pass-card to get out again – no chance of a quick exit now. She locked her doors, checked her windows. Pay attention, stay alert, be aware of your environment. It was Daniel's advice. That didn't make it wrong.

She glanced around. Okay, there was an up and down ramp to her left, the door to the stairwell on the western wall, the zigzag pedestrian path opposite. The five cars were in every direction so she drove a looping circuit around the columns past the first three. All unoccupied. Then she kept her eyes on the two large vehicles opposite, drove close enough for her headlights to sweep them. Both four-wheel drives. The closest one could be his.

She stopped, watched for a moment, trying to match it to the image of the car he'd parked in her driveway. She didn't check behind or the shadowy columns either side.

Didn't see him until he tapped on her window.