Scared Yet? (34 page)

Five years ago, the charred remains of a twenty-six-year-old woman had been discovered in a burnt-out flat in country Victoria. The apartment block was managed by a Ray Hawthorne – aka, their Ray Hepple. Seven years before that, an elderly couple were found beaten to death at a retirement village. He'd called himself Ray Heggarty then, working as the live-in groundsman. Presumably, all three had been defiant. He'd left both jobs shortly after the murders – with glowing references.

‘Ray was eighteen when his father died and he got guardianship of his three younger sisters,' Liv told Daniel. ‘One of them committed suicide at seventeen. The other two attempted to bring assault and false imprisonment
charges against him years afterwards but it didn't reach court. Apparently, the father lost the plot after the mother was murdered and kept them all locked inside a family compound. He sexually assaulted the girls and told Ray he was responsible for their safety. The sisters were in their twenties before they escaped.'

‘Jesus.'

‘It looks like Ray just moved on to other groups after that. Rachel's currently looking at two murders in South Australia from fifteen years ago.'

‘You stopped him, Liv.'

‘Yeah.' She curled fingers around the edge of the bench, watching Cameron run back and forth, grateful she had the chance to see him at all. The police never found the kid who delivered the envelope to him in the cafe – or the person who must have left the note in Liv's handbag the day Teagan fell. Liv hoped it was two separate people after a quick buck, not an apprentice waiting to fill Ray's shoes.

Liv was glad too for things she never thought she would be. That Cam had had a chance to say goodbye to his grandfather, that Michelle had brought him to her in the hospital.

‘I heard someone moved into your old office,' Daniel said.

She turned her head. ‘You haven't been at work?'

‘The Sydney office has someone there until my leg's okay. What about you? Are you working?'

‘I've been taking some time out.'

The pain of that last day in the office still stung. Liv and Kelly had sat among the boxed-up remains of Prescott and Weeks with take-out coffees and she'd told Kelly she understood why she'd taken up Toby's offer, that it was okay, that whatever happened she'd always love her. Then she told her about the kiss. She didn't know if there was a right or wrong way to go when your best friend's husband did something like that. She just knew festering secrets bred resentment and bitterness – and she'd had enough of that.

Kelly's first response was amused denial. ‘Don't be ridiculous, Liv. You probably turned your head in the wrong direction and he got you on the lips by accident.'

‘It wasn't an accident.'

‘You had a lot to deal with then. You still do. You're reading too much into it.'

‘It wasn't a peck, Kelly.'

‘Then you misunderstood.' The words were sharp.

It was Kelly's choice to interpret it however she wanted. Liv wasn't going to force her into comprehension – she knew what lay beyond that door and was in no hurry to push her through it. As the silence extended between them, Liv saw the anger start, in the way Kelly sat, held her cup, tightened her lips. The outburst that came still smarted.

‘I know you're bitter, Liv. That doesn't give you the right to drag everyone else down with you. I've done nothing but try to support you. You shouldn't have told me. You should've kept it to yourself. Jason and I, we could've been okay if you hadn't felt the need to hang it all out to dry. What the fuck am I supposed to do with it now?'

Liv understood that it was easier to blame someone else than face the truth, so she let Kelly aim her tears and temper at her, knowing it would take time for her to work through it, however she and Jason decided to handle it.

It was a depressing end to the business and the partnership. Only time would tell if their friendship would hold out. Liv had left messages, sent a few texts but hadn't heard back – yet. Sheridan told her Kelly and Jason were talking, that he was sleeping on the sofa bed but he hadn't moved out. Liv hoped it was a good sign. Hoped she'd see them again soon. She missed them – all four of them.

‘So, Slugger, what have you been doing with yourself?'

Liv let go of it and focused on what she'd achieved. That night in the car park, Daniel had told her she had to help herself to survive. Not exactly in those words but
get your arse up here
hadn't just spurred her up and over the barrier – it had kicked her out of inertia. ‘Painting.'

‘You paint?'

‘Just walls. I painted the townhouse. The whole thing, upstairs and downstairs.'

‘What about your shoulders?'

‘It hurt like hell but it felt great. Like I was exorcising demons. I've just started on the garden.' She hesitated a second. ‘What about your demons? How are you sleeping?'

‘Not bad.'

‘Still having the nightmares?'

‘Not every night.'

Maybe it wasn't her business but she wanted to know if what had happened had made it worse. If she'd hurt more than just his knee. ‘Is it the same one?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Is it me?'

He turned his head. She thought he was going to shut it down but he said, ‘Not in the nightmares.'

‘In other dreams?'

‘Uh-huh.'

‘From that night?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I'm sorry.'

His mouth turned up in a small, private smile. ‘Don't be. You're having a good time. We both are.'

Her eyebrows lifted.

‘Yeah,
that
night. You remember that night?'

She'd thought about it a lot. How she might not have lived through it if he hadn't been there. That wasn't all she'd thought about. She shrugged, made it look casual. ‘Memories get mixed up in dreams, you know.'

‘I hope not in this case because they're exceptional memories.'

Liv felt the slow creep of heat into her face.

He laughed. ‘You still getting messy on that expensive wine?'

‘I'm taking it slower these days. Haven't been messy in a while. Haven't had anyone to tuck me in.'

He said nothing for a long time as he watched her. She could see what he was doing and hooked her elbows over
the edge of the table, waiting until the assessment was done. ‘And?'

‘What are we doing here, Liv? Are we eating ice-cream or pulling on harnesses and thinking about jumping?'

Would she need a harness? And what the hell
was
she doing? She'd come for the ice-cream but it felt like something else now. It felt easy and familiar and a little flirty. She thought that seeing him would bring back memories. It had, but not the ones she'd expected.

‘What do you want, Liv?'

She looked out at the soccer, at her son cheering.

‘Vanilla or chocolate?' There was resignation in his voice as he picked up the ice-cream tubs.

She should explain. They wouldn't get past what she'd done. ‘I thought you hurt my friends. I broke your knee because of it. I can't take that back.'

‘You don't need to. I told you to smash a knee. You were working with the information you had. The only thing you did wrong was not run like hell.'

Surprise softened the tension in her face. He didn't hold it against her. He was a practical man and he understood about making a call and getting the hell out.

‘What do you want?' he asked again.

‘It's what I
don't
want. I don't want to lose anything else. I don't want to be hurt. I don't want to be betrayed.'

‘No one wants that.'

‘What do
you
want?'

‘I want to see how it goes. You and me, without all the other crap. We've both got plenty of baggage but . . . It felt good, Liv. It still feels good.'

There were no promises in ‘see how it goes'. He couldn't hurt her with that. ‘Is that all you want?'

His gaze lowered, stopped on her mouth. ‘There are a couple of other things.'

‘Only a couple?'

‘I'm open to suggestion.'

There was cheering from the pitch. She glanced at the field, suddenly conscious of Daniel's family and Cameron. But a goal had been scored and they were high-fiving and pulling up T-shirts and having group hugs. Cam was in among it, jumping and laughing.

No point fighting for the future if you don't grab it with both hands, Liv. It wasn't one of her father's mottos, but it felt like something he'd tell her. She turned back to Daniel and kissed him. Nothing fervent, almost chaste after the night they'd spent together. Just a gentle press of her lips on his. A decisive first step, a proposal of something more. He put a hand to her cheek, kept her close, face to face, for a long, wordless moment. Then there was yelling, a brief warning before the ball bounced at their feet.

Daniel snapped away his injured leg, Liv lunged and caught it before it hit the table.

‘Over here,' someone yelled.

Liv found Cameron at the back of the pack, took aim and kicked high and deep.

‘Hey, guys, we've got a first reserve,' Jared called.

She laughed.

‘Sorry about that,' Daniel said. ‘My family can be a bit full-on at these things.'

‘Yeah, they are.'

‘You don't have to hang around. I want to stay for the cake but we can meet up later if you like.'

She frowned in mock shock-horror. ‘Are you kidding? I can't go. I'm first reserve.'

Acknowledgements

I'd like to thank Random House for trusting me with a second story. In particular, I'd like to thank my publisher Beverley Cousins for her support and patience through the disrupted and difficult process of writing
Scared Yet?
. Also copyeditor Virginia Grant for her calm attention to detail in the last-minute rush, publicist Shannon Lane for her enthusiasm, designer Christa Moffitt for a fabulous cover and everyone in the hardworking Random House sales and marketing teams.

Many thanks to my agent Clare Forster for her advice, support and understanding during 2011. Thanks also to the team at Curtis Brown (Aust) and to Kate Cooper and the UK office for finding international audiences for my work.

Thanks to Sam Findley once again for his invaluable assistance with research into police procedure. Also to Senior Constable Tony Tamplin for the tour of Newcastle Police Station, and Dr Shaunagh Foy for her research into stalking. And to all those who've offered their support
with encouragement, advice, sounding boards, phone calls, shoulders, beds, coffee and alcohol: the Turramurra Women's Fiction Critique Group (Christine Stinson, Isolde Martyn, Elizabeth Lhuede, Kandy Shepherd, Carla Molino, Melinda Seed, Simone Camilleri and Caroll Casey), Cath and Grant Every-Burns, Fiona Honson, Tracy Hewson, Gwenda Fulford and Les Chanter.

To my husband Paul, my children Mark and Claire, and my sister Nikki – I wouldn't have got there without you guys. Thank you isn't enough.

Finally, to my dad, Reg Fulford, who encouraged me to read, ask questions, look for answers and aim high. And who is greatly missed.

Jaye Ford is a former news and sport journalist and was Australia's first female presenter of a live national sports show. She has also presented news on regional television, run her own public relations business and been a full-time mother. Her first novel,
Beyond Fear
, sold internationally and will be translated into six languages.
Scared Yet?
is her second psychological thriller. She lives at Lake Macquarie in the NSW Hunter Valley and is married with two children.

www.jayefordauthor.com

BEYOND FEAR

Jaye Ford

Four women. Two strangers. Nowhere to run . . .

At seventeen, Jodie Cramer survived a terrifying assault at the hands of three strangers. Her schoolmate Angie was not so lucky . . .

Now thirty-five, Jodie is a teacher and mother of two – and her past is a horror she's buried deep. When she sets out for a weekend in the country with three friends, all she has in mind are a few laughs and a break from routine.

However, unknown to the four women, their secluded cabin was once the focus of a police investigation and, like Jodie, it nurtures a dark secret . . .

As her friends relax, the isolation reawakens Jodie's terrifying memories. When she finds evidence of trespassers, she is convinced they are being watched. But no one will believe her and as her past threatens to overwhelm her, she begins to doubt herself – and her sanity.

Until two men knock at their door . . .

‘This heart-stopping novel is a must-read for its sheer suspense'
Woman's Day

‘This taut suspense thriller will have you guessing till the end'
Famous

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