Cold Deception (5 page)

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Authors: D.B. Tait

BOOK: Cold Deception
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Why the hell had she mentioned what happened that night? The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. Something about wanting to put him in his place, to make him know she was no one’s fool.

He – Dylan, she had to start thinking of him as Dylan if he was a friend of Dee’s – was the first man in a long time who’d stirred something in her. She didn’t like it.

Before jail, men came on to her all the time. She’d enjoyed their attentions. Not anymore. Not after the stories of the women who came and went in custody and not after experiencing the casual and not so casual brutality of most of the prison officers. Although, to be totally honest, the female POs were sometimes worse than the men.

She swore she’d never be with a man again after her first couple of years inside. Once she seriously considered having sex with some of her friends, but knew she didn’t really want to have sex at all. Jail had killed her desire along with everything else. Thirty years old and she’d only experienced one casual relationship with a fellow student about six months before that hideous night. She was virtually a virgin.

Which made her response to Dylan the cop inexplicable. She could tell he responded to her as more than just a damsel in distress and by the perplexed frown that stayed on his face for most of their encounter, he wasn’t happy about it either.

There was something about him, something repressed and exciting. Like he wanted to devour her whole but couldn’t let himself want. She knew all about that. Wanting was dangerous. Better to always be in control of emotions, desires, or anything else that could betray you. Most women in jail never learned that most basic of lessons. Not her. She was the mistress of control. But the feel of his hands on her as he led her across the square stayed with her. He was strong, but not overbearing. He knew immediately what was wrong with her and hadn’t taken advantage.

And those eyes… Cold when he needed to show contempt, then stormy and passionate against his better judgement. But she couldn’t deny seeing concern there too. She shifted in her seat, annoyed at the blossoming of sexual interest in her body. Just her luck to get interested in the last man in the world she’d ever consider as a sexual partner. An anonymous fuck was what she needed. Or what her mates in custody talked about, a friend with benefits, who could be relied upon for sex with no attachment. Problem was, she didn’t know anyone. Maybe the cop…

All that strength and concern just for her.

All those muscles and that burning gray gaze sliding over her skin…

They could keep it secret. Just between them. Illicit and forbidden. Maybe he was married. They could meet in some out-of-the-way place like a seedy motel and have wild, uncontrolled sex… and maybe pigs would fly and the sun turn purple. She held her hands to her over-heated cheeks, appalled and amused at the twists and turns her crazy thoughts took her on. No doubt about it, long dormant desire was making a comeback.

Her number was called by the young woman who smiled at her and told her to sit in a chair in front of a camera. She took her photo, while all the time chatting about the weather, wondering if it would snow so early in the season.

“There you are, Julia,” she said, after all the paperwork had been done and the plastic card presented to her. “A nice new license. This one even has a halfway decent picture of you. You should see mine. I look like I’m dying of some horrible disease.” She laughed. “Say hello to your mom for me.”

Julia stared at her nonplussed. “You know my mother?”

“Sure, everyone knows your mother. She’s a Katoomba fixture. I did one of her art classes a couple of months ago. She was so excited about you coming home. How’s it going? Everything okay?”

Julia couldn’t speak from the tears tightening her throat. She nodded.

“Great,” said the woman. Mel was the name on her name tag. “Take it easy.”

Julia nodded again and made her way to the exit. Tears blurred her vision. She thought hostility would be the hardest to bear but Mel’s simple kindness made her want to howl. So much for control.

Julia left the building and started to make her way across the square to the Parole Office, next to the Court House. Weariness swept down on her again. It seemed every time she experienced some intense emotion she wanted to sleep. She knew what her psychiatrist would say.

“You’re depressed, Jules. You want to escape in dream land. You’ve got two choices. I can give you some medication or you can start moving. Get those endorphins going.”

That’s when she’d taken up walking. In her cell, around and around the compound, then when she hit minimum security at Emu Plains, down to the dairy to milk the cows.

Dr. Devlin was right. It did help. She spent most of her sentence walking.

But now she couldn’t face another intense experience. Seeing her parole officer wouldn’t be a picnic. Her appointment was at eleven a.m. and it was only ten fifteen, which astonished her. She felt she’d lived through a whole day. Maybe she could nick over to Zuppa’s and get some coffee.

Her mind made up, she crossed the highway and walked through the railway underpass, now painted with colorful murals as a way of discouraging graffiti. When she reached the top of the steps, she found the wind had dropped and the sun was out. A classic mountains winter’s day. Clear and crisp. Full of sudden optimism, she entered Cafe Zuppa and hoped the coffee was as good as ten years ago.

Sally sat at a table in earnest conversation with an older man who looked vaguely familiar.

Another first. It seemed the day was full of them.

She walked slowly out of the sunny day into the darkness of the cafe. Wood paneling topped with mirrors lined the walls in classic Art Deco style. As she made her way to Sally’s table she caught sight of herself and stopped. She looked haunted and wraith-like. Dark circles under her eyes and a look of desperation on her face. Her plan to not look like a victim didn’t seem to be working.

As soon as Sally saw her, she leapt from the table and threw her arms around her.

“Jules! It’s so good to see you.”

Julia stood stiffly and let herself be hugged, then slowly relaxed into her old friend’s embrace. Sally visited her sporadically but consistently throughout the ten years, always making it clear she would not forget or abandon her. Sometimes Julia wished she wouldn’t come, not certain Sally didn’t visit her out of a sense of guilt.

Guilt. Someday they had to resolve what was between them.

“If I’d kept quiet about Father Pat, you wouldn’t be in this horrible place,” she’d tearfully said to Julia the first time she visited her.

“That’s not true, Sal,” she replied, knowing Sally wouldn’t believe her. It was the truth, no matter what Sally thought. “What I did was my responsibility and no one else’s.”

Sally shook her head then dried her tears. They never mentioned it again.

Now, Sally broke her embrace and held Julia away from her, peering into her face.

“You’re pale. Sit with us and let me buy you a big, gooey cake with lots of cream. And a double shot café latte. Make you fat and speedy at the same time.”

Julia laughed. Sally always had the ability make her laugh. She felt relaxed for the first time in a long time. Sally would ignore the last ten years and just pick up where they left off. Which usually involved sitting in this cafe, drinking coffee and giggling. What she wouldn’t give to do exactly that right now. But the other occupant of the table didn’t look like the giggling type.

“Jules, this is Douglas Sinclair. He’s a psychiatrist up here and does some work at the Health Center. This is my old friend Julia Taylor.”

“Good to meet you, Julia,” he said, standing and holding out his hand. “How’s it going?”

She let him take her hand and studied him. Tall, maybe in his forties, with salt and pepper shaggy hair and kind eyes that regarded her with friendly sympathy. She made herself smile wondering if Eleanor saw him as a client. She’d mentioned she’d been seeing a psychiatrist over the years. If she did see him, he probably knew a lot about the notorious Julia Taylor. Most people knew a lot about her. That realisation hit her with sudden force. She thought she could become anonymous and disappear into the ether after she got out, but that wouldn’t happen for a while, if ever.

“Sit,” said Sally. “I’ll order something for you.”

She hailed the waitress and ordered coffees and cake.

“Nothing for me,” said Douglas.

She scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re on a health kick again?”

He laughed and patted his stomach. “It’s never a good idea to put on the pounds. Not at my age.”

“You’re not too old.”

There was a tone to Sally’s voice that made Julia look at her sharply. Sally smiled at him, a flirtatious gleam in her eye. When Julia glanced at him to see his reaction, he smiled widely but remained silent.

As if suddenly remembering Julia was present, Sally patted her hand.

“How’s Blossom? I ran into Dee earlier and she told me what happened.”

Julia grimaced. “She’s in a bad way. She needs rehab, but I don’t think she’ll go. Have you met this boyfriend of hers?”

“Rez?” She shook her head. “Just heard about him. Nothing good, I’m afraid. He’s heavily involved in the Western Sydney drug scene. Every time the two of them have visited your mom over the past few months, he’s been seen doing the rounds, selling and scoring. He’s seriously bad news.”

“When does Blossom get out of detox?” Douglas asked. “If she won’t go to rehab, would she do some out-patient counseling? I do a clinic at the Community Health Center. I’d be happy to see her.”

Julia regarded him with interest. This must be the Doc Sinclair Dylan mentioned.

“I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”

He nodded. “I moved up to the mountains a couple of years before…” He looked embarrassed as if he couldn’t find the right words. There weren’t any right words for what she’d done.

“Before my fall from grace,” Julia said, with a sigh. “It’s okay. I won’t fall to pieces if you mention it.”

He smiled awkwardly. “I met you one day at Dee’s nursery. I’m a gardener and Dee fuels my addiction.”

Julia laughed. “I haven’t heard gardening referred to like that. It’s a good addiction to have.”

Their coffees arrived, which gave Julia some space to watch the two of them watching each other.

Well, well. Big age difference, but what did that matter? He seemed nice and friendly and God knew, Sally deserved someone nice and friendly in her life. Half her luck.

“Some out-patient counseling might be possible,” Julia said. “Have you met Blossom?”

He nodded again. “A few times. At the shop or with your mother.”

“Did you treat Eleanor?”

He shifted in his seat and took a sip of water out of the glass in front of him, avoiding her gaze.

“That’s not something I can talk about. You need to ask her.”

Julia shrugged. “I only ask because Eleanor seems well. Whatever treatment she’s had over the years seems to have helped.”

He raised his eyes and regarded her impassively.

Sally laughed. “Give it up, Julia. You won’t get anything out of him. I’ve never come across a health professional who keeps everything so close to his chest. The soul of absolute discretion.”

“It’s a small town. No one would see me if I got a reputation for breaching professional ethics. Nor should they.”

Defensive with a hint of pomposity. Ah, well. Each to his own.

“And on that note, I must go.” He looked at his watch. “Damn it. I’m running late for my next appointment. I have to go down to Nepean Hospital later. Would you like me to look in at Blossom, Julia? See if she’s willing to see me professionally?”

Julia smiled at him with gratitude, a little shamefaced at her uncharitable thoughts. “That would be great, Douglas. We’re all at a bit of a loss about what to do with her.”

He patted her shoulder as he passed her on the way out.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

*

Julia picked up her coffee cup and eyed Sally speculatively. “He seems nice.”

“Douglas? Yes, of course. Someone like that who works for next to nothing seeing people who can’t afford a psychiatrist has to be a decent human being.”

Julia said nothing but raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“What?”

“Did I detect a little frisson of something going on between the two of you?”

Sally turned pale and stammered. “No! Not at all. God, Jules he was my therapist. I saw him for a couple of years after the court case. I don’t know what I would’ve done without his support.”

Julia almost dropped her cup onto the table, sloshing coffee over the rim.

“I’m so sorry, Sal. Just ignore me.” Her throat tightened with shame-filled tears. “I don’t know anything about men or relationships or anything,” she blurted. ‘I don’t know how to read them. I’m an idiot.”

She felt Sally’s concerned gaze on her while she avoided looking at her friend. If the earth could just swallow her up…

“Jules, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You’re bound to find it difficult for a while. Make mistakes. I’m your friend. I want to support you.”

She reached out and squeezed Julia’s hand. “You haven’t had any of this divine lemon meringue pie. Do I have to feed it to you? I will if you don’t start on it.”

Julia tasted the tangy pie and almost swooned.

“This is fantastic. Mmm…”

Sally exploded into laughter. “You look like a teenager again. I need to see more of that look on your face.”

“I feel like a teenager. Gormless and awkward.”

“It’ll pass. Most people won’t notice.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Tell me more about Blossom.”

Julia filled her in about Dylan’s delivery of Blossom to the Taylor doorstep.

“Mmm. The dishy and mysterious Dylan Andrews. A man that’s set the female hearts of the upper mountains community a-flutter.”

“Mysterious? Why mysterious?”

Sally shrugged. “No one knows much about him. He’s friendly enough and has a reputation of being fair and compassionate, which is a nice change in a cop. Transferred here about two years ago. There’s been some speculation he had some trauma in his past that made him want to get out of Sydney. He’s on the Domestic Violence Steering Committee and gets on well with the Coordinator, Jenny, which is a miracle since she doesn’t have much time for men and even less for cops. Which reminds me…”

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