Sticks and Stones (38 page)

Maddie stopped, listening intently, but it didn't come again. She went over to Sam's bed and bobbed down, lifting up his doona and peering underneath, seeing nothing but the shadows of more shoes amongst the gloom. She was about to get up again when her eyes adjusted enough to see them. Two pinpricks of translucent light right up at the back.

‘Guess?' she whispered, stretching out her spare hand. His tail moved again, but only slightly, the barest whisk. Maddie straightened, running over to the window and knocking on the glass. ‘Sam! Sam! I've found him!' She could hear the panic in her voice because she already knew that this was not good. Not good at all.

She hurried back around to bob down and check where Guess's head was, then ran to the foot of the bed and, with one fluid motion, heaved the bed away from the wall at an angle. Now the dog was mostly visible, a black mound at the narrowest point, with only his eyes displaying life.

‘What the –' Sam stood in the doorway, his eyes widening as he took in the situation. He jumped onto the bed and then dropped down so that he was kneeling right by Guess's head, reaching one hand down to touch him.

‘Can you pick him up?' asked Maddie, unable to lift the bed out any further with Sam on it.

‘Yep.'

‘Okay, you grab him, I'll get the car started.' She cast one more glance at Guess and then ran into her bedroom, grabbing her boots from the wardrobe and pulling them on. From there she ran down the passage and into the kitchen, where steam from the kettle was hissing angrily at the ceiling. She flicked it off and grabbed her handbag. She could hear Sam now, with heavier footsteps, so she paused at the back door, holding it open for him to come through with the dog in his arms. And now it was very clear how ill Guess was, his mouth half open with frothy drool lacing his gums. Like liquid doilies. His eyes swivelled around to her, the whites glistening, and she fancied she saw gratitude, relief.
My family, at last, now I'm not alone.
And she wanted to burst into tears, throw something, hit something. Explode.

‘What about Ashley?'

‘I've thought about that,' said Maddie quickly, putting her hand on Guess's head to protect it from the doorjamb. ‘I'll leave you at the vet's with Guess and come right back to wait for her. If the police come while I'm gone, well they've got my mobile number so they'll ring anyway.'

They hurried around to the car and Maddie opened the rear door for Sam, helping him slide inside with the dog held tightly on his lap. Guess's eyes were closed, as if he felt he was able to relax now that they had things in hand. She ran around to the driver's side and leapt in, starting the car up and reversing rapidly down the driveway. Glancing momentarily at Sam as she changed direction, both of them expressionless. Which in itself said more than either needed.

Within ten minutes they were pulling up outside the local vet clinic, where Guess always got his inoculations and an annual trim for the summer. The glass windows shone with light and Maddie could see the receptionist inside, a young guy with jet-black spiky hair, talking on the phone. She turned to Sam quickly. ‘I'll go ahead, unless you need a hand?'

‘You go,' said Sam shortly, already opening the door and adjusting his hold on Guess.

Maddie nodded and clambered out, slamming her door and then running into the clinic, through the automatic doors. She went straight to the counter where the receptionist was just hanging up the phone. ‘Please. Our dog has been poisoned.' And then the words were out there, with a life of their own, couldn't be taken back. Guess had been poisoned.

The receptionist pressed a buzzer on the side of the counter and then hurried around to the doors, just as they slid open for Sam. Guess hung limply in his arms, his head tucked against Sam's chest, his eyes still closed. Drool shone down the boy's arm like moist track marks.

‘What have we got here?' The vet, a middle-aged woman with a vivid red streak through her blonde hair, came hurrying through a far doorway that was surrounded by huge colourful cartoons of dogs, cats, rabbits. She reached them just as the receptionist was gently taking Guess from Sam. The dog's head flopped, and then settled again.

‘He's been poisoned,' said Maddie, staring at the vet so that she wouldn't have to look at Sam. ‘Most probably about two hours ago.'

‘Do you know what the substance was?' The vet pulled open Guess's eyelid and a crescent of white shone blindly. She glanced up at Sam, doing a double-take at his black eye. ‘Looks like he's not the only one who's been in the wars.'

‘Yes,' said Maddie shortly.

‘So, the substance? And has the dog vomited?'

‘No. And no, I don't think so.' Maddie put out a hand, lightly touching Guess's grey-black fur. She let it drop again. ‘Sorry.'

‘Okay, well we'll just get him out the back and have a quick look. Try to stabilise him, and then we'll come get your details.' The vet shot them a smile that was meant to be reassuring but wasn't, because its brevity only emphasised the urgency. The receptionist was already walking towards the far doorway with Guess in his arms so the vet ducked around him and went ahead.

Maddie stared after them as they disappeared. One of the huge cartoon dogs had his paw on the top of the doorway, so that it looked as if he was wishing them luck.

‘Did Dad do it?' asked Sam quietly.

Maddie shrugged, still staring at the doorway. How did you articulate something like that? How did you
accept
something like that?

‘Will he be okay?'

‘I honestly don't know.' Maddie turned, finally, to face her son. He was staring at his feet, his arms now hugged across himself as if holding in some essence of Guess. An imprint. ‘But we couldn't have got here any faster.'

‘Yeah.' Sam glanced up and Maddie saw that his eyes were shining. He looked away again.

Maddie put out her hand, rubbed his back. Over by the windows was a cluster of plastic chairs, all facing a television that had been suspended from the ceiling. ‘Come on, you might as well sit down.' She used her hand to propel him slightly. The news was on, the volume low, showing a retired football player who was apparently being stalked by an unknown male. His house vandalised, acid thrown on cars, nuisance phone calls. ‘I'm not scared for me,' said the burly man, holding back the tears, ‘but I've got two daughters. I'm scared for them.'

Ashley.

This thought was immediately followed by the oily, nauseous realisation that what had happened to Guess sent everything ricocheting to a whole new level. So that it wasn't about mere logistics, like whether or not she was at home when the girl was delivered, but so much more. On the television was now grainy footage of the intruder in the front yard, caught on the football player's elaborate security camera. But Maddie stared without really seeing because a singular thought had taken over. She had to get Ashley. And even though she
knew
she was overreacting, she didn't unpack the thought, didn't question it, because that was terrifying in itself. Instead she just acted on it, first getting up to check the closing time. Nine o'clock. Excellent. She turned to Sam, who was watching her questioningly. ‘I'm off to get Ashley. From your dad's.'

‘Cool,' Sam nodded, as if this made sense.

‘I'll be back as soon as I can.' Maddie stared at him for a moment and then ducked over, grabbing his face and kissing him on the cheek. Feeling the sparse stubble of his adolescent skin. She straightened before he had time to think, to wriggle free.

The rain started again on the way to Silver's Creek, just a thin drizzle that forced her to concentrate. She did, however, take the time to rehearse how she would play this out. Knowing that if he was there, with Ashley, it would mean the police hadn't been yet. So the safest angle would be to pretend that she didn't suspect him of what had happened to Guess, and insist, with a simulated expectation of coopera tion, that Ashley come along in case this was her last chance to say goodbye. Maddie even practised what she would say when he opened the door. Quickly, before he had time to say anything.
This is an emergency, Jake, so we have to put everything else aside. It's
not
about you and me. It's about Ashley.

But before she had coasted to a stop across the road, Maddie knew that it had been for nothing. The driveway was empty, while the house stared back at her through darkened lids. Not a single light anywhere. Disappointment and concern slithered greasily within the pit of her stomach like medicine that refused to settle. She thought fleetingly of going up to the house, peering through the windows and making sure, but there seemed to be no point. Instead she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, trying to think. Where
were
they?

And remembered, quite suddenly, the little green light blinking on the answering machine at home. Her fingers stopped instantly and, seconds later, Maddie was driving down the road and turning back towards the highway. Becoming steadily more convinced that it had been Ashley who had left the message, perhaps something that was going to explain everything. Make sense of this nightmare. Or maybe it was even to say that she was on her way home. Was there right this very minute. And then she, Maddie, could take the time to report the poisoning and head back to the veterinary hospital with Ashley in tow.

Maddie pressed her foot down, driving as fast as she dared in the miserable conditions. Even so the trip seemed to take forever, although the clock on her dashboard read just six-eighteen as she pulled into the driveway. Being washed by disappointment, but not a huge amount of surprise, to realise that the lights were all off here as well. But knowing nevertheless that it was still the answering machine that was the key.

She jumped out of the car, leaving her handbag on the floor, and ran. The drizzle was a little heavier now, appearing like magic out of the semi-darkness and coming in at an angle so that her jumper clung to her breasts by the time she reached the back door. Getting a momentary shock to see it wide open and then remembering the haste with which they had left. Maddie flicked the light on in the kitchen and threw her keys onto the table before going straight through to the lounge room and the answering machine. She jabbed
Play
, almost sliding her fi nger off the button with haste. The machine whirred, clunked, and then suddenly there was Ashley's voice, so clear and so familiar that it was as if she was there herself. Almost.

Hello, Mum? It's me. I'm using Georgia's phone because Dad took mine. Oh yeah, I already told you that. Anyway, like I'm at school and it's . . . What time is it, George? . . . it's ten in the morning. So what it is is that I thought I should tell you . . . George, can you go over there? This is private . . . that Sam's got a big black eye. So, anyway, does that mean we can come home? You can ring me on Georgia's phone, the number's in our address book. Love you, see you.

Maddie felt tears of frustration prick at her eyes. But even if she had checked the machine when she and Sam had got home, it would have been too late. If only Ashley had tried her on the mobile. But then again that had spent the better part of the day in the locker at work and she hadn't checked it since. So maybe the girl had done exactly that. The machine whirred to the start of the next message and a strange woman's voice rang out, tense and terse.

Hello, we met a few weeks ago, at the airport. My name is Natalie and I'm a . . . friend of Jake's. Your husband, I suppose I should say. I'm calling because frankly I can't just sit by and do nothing. Let me just say this, you must be the most selfish, evil woman I have ever come across. To take a man's children from him for all these years and then make him suffer like this even after he finds them again. To push him over the edge the way you have. I hope you're happy. I don't know how you live with yourself. You disgust me.

And the machine stopped abruptly, with an audible
clunk
, before beginning to rewind. Maddie stared at it, stunned.
The most selfish, evil woman? You disgust me?
She sat down on the armrest of the couch, rubbing her arms as she glanced over at the broken window, with its patchwork of cardboard and masking tape. She thought of her dog, fighting for his life, and her son, with his black-blue, bloodshot eye. And yet
she
was evil?
She
was disgusting? It was all too wrong for words.

‘Hard to hear, isn't it?' asked Jake pleasantly. ‘Even though it's the truth.'

Maddie froze. Unable to turn in the direction of his voice.

‘But then you've never liked the truth, have you?'

Adrenalin was trickling along her veins, but it seemed to ice over before it could do anything.

‘Oh, and thanks for leaving the door open. Although I did have my own set of keys.'

The sound of keys jingling finally brought Maddie's head around. He was standing in the passage doorway, swinging a pewter key ring around one finger. She stared at the word
Twilight
swinging gaily, along with a little silver apple. ‘Where is she?'

‘Don't worry about her. Worry about yourself.'

‘Why?' asked Maddie, but she had to force the word. It emerged harshly, like a croak.

‘Because I'm going to kill you. That's why.'

Her eyes flicked up to his face, searching for clues. But it was impassive, expressionless. So familiar and yet so very, very scary. A face she had once stroked, with the tips of her fingers, or watched hover above hers in fierce concentration as their bodies slid against each other. A sheen of sweat the only thing between them. She opened her mouth, but there was nothing left.

‘Oh, don't bother trying to talk your way out of this one,' Jake sighed, as if this was a cause for regret. ‘Too little, too late. You've left me with nothing to lose.'