Medea's Curse (16 page)

‘Personal life? Ex-partners? Gay?’

‘No. Nor have I turned down any would-be lover of either gender recently. Last boyfriend
was a cop.’ This wasn’t the work of the rejected lover, and it was too organised,
too intentionally threatening, to be the incompetent-suitor or intimacy-seeker type
of stalker. Shit, she knew more than the cops.

Senior Constable Hudson frowned. Maybe he didn’t approve of cops dating shrinks.
‘I need you to go through anyone you are currently seeing at work or socially or
who you’ve seen in…say the last year, who has a record of violence, stalking or threats.
Include the incarcerated ones. They may have boyfriends. Anyone who has been angry,
who you’ve given evidence against.’

She did need to make this list but she wasn’t about to give it to him—not the full
set of names anyway.

‘There is an issue with confidentiality. Particularly for
my patients without convictions,’
said Natalie. ‘I can’t have you guys turning up on their doorsteps.’

‘My team will approach this sensitively.’

Yeah, sure.

‘You need to take this seriously,’ the senior constable said. ‘Either move out or
have someone move in with you.’

Let the arsehole win? Never. She had replaced locks and secured windows. She was
smarter than her stalker; she just needed to work out who he was.

There turned out to be less than a dozen names, and she could even cross some of
those off. Someone with chronic schizophrenia wouldn’t have the planning skills,
and others didn’t have stable partnerships. Celeste had a brother, Joe. She thought
of his toothless grin and his eyes following her but she couldn’t think of any reason
why he would be stalking her.

There was Travis. But as much as he niggled at the back of her mind, the timing wasn’t
quite right and she didn’t think he could have worked out where she lived. A patient
who was also a health professional might have access to health records…that took
her to Georgia. She might qualify for the list if her court case was to go badly,
but currently there was nothing in their interactions for her to be concerned about.

None of the others were anything more than business as usual. From the past there
was one who had schizophrenia and had been charged for stalking a childhood sweetheart,
a couple of murderers, and three women with borderline personality disorders who
hadn’t lasted in therapy. As the stalker had reminded her so compellingly, she couldn’t
give any of these last names up to the police. But if he was worried
about confidentiality,
then he or his partner or relative had to have been a patient. That meant she’d find
him eventually. Then she could decide what to do.

Tiphanie was looking neither jubilant nor truculent.

They watched her through the one-way screen where she was sitting in a featureless
room, biting her nails and looking at her feet.

‘So what has she said to you so far?’ Natalie asked Damian, who had loosened up considerably.
Even greeted her with a smile.

‘Not much. We haven’t pushed her.’

‘But Travis knows she was popping pills?’

Andie Grimbank grinned but there was an edge to her mirth. ‘He does now.’

Damian and Andie had gone to see them at their home for an ‘informal chat’. The place
looked immaculate, but Tiphanie had been nervous and edgy, perhaps because she wasn’t
currently using anything. Travis was full of himself as usual.

Andie had taken them back over the day before the disappearance. Then Damian asked
how Tiphanie woke up for the baby, given the pills she was on.

‘We could have heard a pin drop,’ said Damian. ‘Tiphanie looked like she was going
to pass out.’

Travis had launched into an angry spiel at the cops but then, realising Tiphanie
had gone quiet, stopped and stared at her. ‘Tell ’em Tiph. I know you don’t do drugs.
You don’t even drink.’

Tiphanie had eventually said, no, she didn’t do drugs. When Damian said, ‘What about
prescription ones?’ there was another silence, not broken by Travis this time.

Natalie tensed as she listened to Damian’s account. She knew from Amber what Travis
was capable of. Knew from Kay’s version what more Travis might have been capable
of, none of which she could share.

Damian caught her glance. ‘We took Tiphanie to her mother’s after the interview.’

Natalie took a breath. This cop was one of the smart guys.

Tiphanie was now here alone, without Travis hanging off her and raging about their
rights—which didn’t mean he wasn’t venting his anger elsewhere.

Natalie thought about the notes.

Breaking the rules.

That could mean the dressing-down she gave him before Amber’s court case.

Then in the latest note.
They belong to me.
Amber and Tiphanie? Tiphanie and Chloe?

Tiphanie was still staying with her parents. Whatever rift had occurred with them
previously had presumably been resolved.

‘I think we’ll be able to do this gently,’ said Natalie. Andie looked noncommittal.
Damian’s expression suggested that he was happy to give her some extra rope and see
what happened.

‘Hi Tiphanie,’ Natalie said, sitting opposite her as the other two took chairs to
the side.

Tiphanie looked up briefly. Her eyes were puffy, her skin sallow.

‘I understand you didn’t exactly tell me the truth last time we talked.’

Tiphanie didn’t respond, apart from a sniffle.

‘Which is okay. There are a whole lot of reasons why
people don’t want to talk about
things.’ Natalie paused, then added, ‘We’re trying to work out what happened to Chloe.
Maybe you can help us find her. Whatever the answer is, you want to know the truth
don’t you?’

No response.

‘So tell me why your doctor prescribed the antidepressant and the sedative.’ Natalie
let the silence sit this time. Finally Tiphanie raised her head.

‘I wasn’t coping all that well.’ Natalie watched her, monitoring her affect and her
level of eye contact.

‘Chloe wasn’t a problem. I loved her straight away. Soon as I saw her on the ultrasound.’
There was a depth of emotion in Tiphanie’s voice, at odds with the whisper in which
she’d uttered the first statement.

‘Yes, I know. Having postnatal depression doesn’t mean you don’t love your child.’

‘I couldn’t get out of bed, didn’t want to do anything. I thought maybe I had glandular
fever or something.’

‘Were you sleeping?’

‘Yes. Too much. But I was always exhausted.’

‘Did the antidepressants help?’

‘A bit. I guess. The Valium was better. For a while, anyway.’

‘Are you taking them now?’

Tiphanie shook her head and tears welled in her eyes.

‘Why not?’ asked Natalie.

Tiphanie whispered something.

‘Tiphanie?’

‘It’s all my fault.’

‘What do you mean, Tiphanie?’ Natalie held up her hand to stop Damian, who had sat
forward in his chair, from intervening.

‘I took a Valium that morning. Two. One when I got up and another when I went back
to bed.’

‘Okay,’ said Natalie. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘I was stressed out.’

‘About…?’

‘Everything. I was so useless and I was afraid.’

‘Of?’

Tiphanie looked down. ‘Nothing. I…I wouldn’t have heard her, you know.’ As if a thought
had come to her suddenly she looked up, eyes wide in fear. ‘I mean I was out of it.
I don’t really remember the morning. I could have even—’

‘Could have what?’

It took a few moments for her to pull herself together. She looked so lost and vulnerable
that Natalie wanted to hug her.

‘I don’t…well…maybe I left the door open,’ she mumbled.

‘So is that the whole truth?’ Andie asked after they finished the interview. ‘People
should get licences before they have kids.’

‘I think she’s still hiding something,’ said Natalie. She had been certain that at
the end of interview, Tiphanie had been going to say something else, and stopped
herself.

Andie drummed her fingers impatiently. ‘Can’t you hypnotise her or something?’

Natalie stopped herself from rolling her eyes. ‘Not that simple. Psychiatrists aren’t
mind readers, and even under hypnosis people can exert free will.’

‘Then what can you do?’

Not as much as she’d like. Natalie’s gut instinct was strong but what was it that
didn’t ring true? ‘Try and put
the pieces together, making sense of who she is and
therefore why she is saying some things…and not others. Tiphanie couldn’t maintain
eye contact. I had…a sense of her knowing I knew she was hiding something.’

‘Still protecting our mate Travis?’ Damian leaned forward.

‘Probably,’ said Natalie.
He did it.
‘She’s certainly feeling guilty, but is it for
not saving Chloe from Travis, or for bombing herself out and not being there for
her child? Or for not taking Chloe and moving to her parents’ months earlier?’ Amber
had asked repeatedly, ‘Why didn’t I just take Bella-Kaye and walk?’

‘She didn’t say anything about Chloe having breakfast,’ Natalie added, half to herself.

‘Meaning?’ Damian asked.

‘If Travis is intimidating her to stick to the story, that’s where it will come unstuck,’
said Natalie. ‘The morning. When Chloe may not have been there.’

‘I’m thinking she’s still scared of Travis,’ said Andie.

Was she? ‘Is she scared of her father too?’

‘More likely her mother. I know the Murchisons.’

Of course she did. It was the advantage of small towns. Andie was older than Tiphanie—even
if she’d grown up here they wouldn’t have gone to school together—but still Natalie
and Damian looked at her expectantly.

‘A Welbury special,’ said Andie. ‘Parents both got kids from previous relationships.
There’s a much older half-brother who isn’t around, a half-sister and a brother.
Tiphanie’s the baby.’

‘So what are the parents like?’

‘Dad runs the petrol station heading east out of town. Nice enough bloke, bit beige.’
Andie wrinkled her nose.

Natalie warmed to her. ‘And her mother?’

‘A piece of work,’ said Andie.

‘Care to expand?’ Damian asked.

Andie looked grim. ‘Let’s just say Kiara—her stepsister; no, half-sister…whatever—showed
off some ugly bruises in the change room at school.’

Liam was waiting in the foyer of the police station. Natalie sensed Damian tensing
up.

‘Thinking of moving down here?’ he said to Liam. ‘I can introduce you to the real
estate agent.’

‘I’m starting to like the drive. Your boss tells me there’s been a new development.’

Damian looked at him then Natalie and turned around without replying.

The late winter fog was descending as they walked back to the hotel and Natalie appreciated
the protection of her leather jacket.

‘You seem more on edge than normal,’ Liam said. ‘This case getting to you?’

It wasn’t just the case getting to her, nor was it the games he was playing with
Damian. And the stalker wasn’t Liam’s problem.

‘I want to find Chloe; and whoever caused her disappearance. Don’t you?’

They went out for pizza. The meal was purely fuel and afterwards Natalie would have
been at a loss to say what topping was on it, apart from cheese, which she had played
with, stretching the long melting strands between her mouth and the pizza slice,
as Liam looked on. Wanting her and
not the food. She made him wait though, lingering
over her drink, enjoying teasing him, enjoying her own anticipation.

This time she let him tie her up; the brass bed seemed to ask for it, and she was
curious to know how inventive he was. She was confident she could escape the ties
if she wanted to. So why not lie back and enjoy?

She was naked as she watched him strip, slowly, eyes locked with hers. She imagined
him debating exactly what he wanted to do with her and allowed herself to give in
to it: the idea of her pleasure being in his hands. She had never allowed anyone,
not even Tom, this much power. She didn’t count Eoin, a lifetime of experience ago.

He didn’t abuse the trust. She’d known instinctively he wouldn’t. He lingered briefly
over the tattoo that wrapped around her arm, the one she’d left to remind herself
that when she was high she did really stupid things, but Liam knew better than to
ask about it. His smile conveyed desire, but also made her want to believe that his
need was and would only ever be for her. In her moment of climax her eyes were locked
on his, and the vulnerability provided a connection she had never experienced before.

The experience for him must have been one of absolute power. For her it was a realisation
that an abdication of responsibility contained the potential for ecstasy. And the
feeling of safety she hadn’t even realised was missing.

She felt good and wanted to hold onto her sense of peace without the dullness induced
by medication; she hadn’t taken her meds the previous night, in anticipation. And
she wasn’t going to let them take the feeling away now.

Chapter 15

Natalie tried to organise her thoughts as she opened up the throttle on her bike.
After leaving Welbury early, she had stayed on the ring road rather than heading
home and turned northwest through the newer suburbs with cheap prefab housing estates.
Taking the exit onto the long road to the prison, Natalie hoped there were no speed
cameras. The speedo hit one sixty and it felt like she was barely moving. It would
be just a one-off. Declan didn’t need to know. Maybe she’d tell him afterwards and
get absolution.

The first impression of Dame Phyllis Frost Centre was of well-tended garden beds
and neat concrete paths, but beyond their formal cheer, it was bleak. Even the spindly
gum trees looked as though they were struggling to make it. She tried to concentrate
but her thoughts were leapfrogging over each other as though in a race to the finish.
Declan kept popping into her mind and she shoved him aside. One visit to see Amber
wouldn’t hurt anyone, and anyway he’d never know. Amber would be released and her
recovery could really start. Her family would welcome her back and, while she would
never be the innocent young girl who had married Travis, she would heal.