Surrender (20 page)

T
he Bookends blessed themselves as I approached so I guess I looked pretty bad. The taxi driver had been silent all the way from the hospital. If he had any questions about why I looked the way I did or why I was going from the hospital to a downtown strip joint, he didn’t ask them. He didn’t show any interest at all. I guess some people are just naturally inquisitive. Others — not so much.

The Bookends slid together like lift doors, effectively barring my entrance to the club, and I knew I didn’t have a hope in hell of wrestling my way though them. I explained that I needed to know where Vex lived so I could check she was okay, but they stared at me like I’d risen from the dead — an overrated trick that, in my opinion, Christians are ridiculously impressed by.

Before I could take advantage of their superstition, one of them pushed a button and the little, highly strung manager swung out of a side door like a cuckoo out of a clock. I hadn’t realised there was a door in the panelling until he popped out of it. Gavin waved his hands in a histrionic fashion and yelled at me.

‘Go away. You look terrible. Even worse than before. You go now before I call police.’

I stood my ground, mostly because I had no choice. My reaction time was down, and I was still pretty unsteady on my feet. I had to choose carefully before making any fancy moves, like taking any kind of step forward or back.

‘Look, all I want is to check that Vex is okay,’ I said.

‘Vex good. Vex no problem.
You
problem. You go away,’ he said, doing that sweeping gesture that I found really irritating. As Gavin advanced towards me I sensed a shuffle from the Bookends. I knew instinctively that if it really came down to it, they’d back me, not him, but I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. I held my hands up in peace-offering submission to discourage Gavin from stepping any closer.

‘I’ll leave if you let me see Vex. That’s all I want. I just need to talk to her for five minutes, that’s all, and then I promise I’ll be out of here.’

Before Gavin could respond, the bigger of the two Bookends put a baseball glove-sized hand on his arm.

‘Vex isn’t here, sis,’ he said to me. ‘She hasn’t been in all week.’

My heart thumped. There was no reason for him to lie.

‘You go now. You got answer,’ Gavin said, plucking the huge hand off his arm and glaring at the big guy for having dared to touch him.

At that moment, the main doors slid open and a couple of punters came out of the club. The Bookends moved aside to let them past, and in the brief moment before the doors closed behind them, I glimpsed Richard Brownlee through the haze of swirling lights, one buttock hitched up on a stool at the bar, his head tilted towards the girl serving him. Then the doors slid closed again. It was early evening, around eight, but the club was already pulsing with music, lights and sex.

‘Have you tried to ring her? Have you checked she’s okay?’ I asked, but Gavin was already writing something on the back of a business card.

‘This her address. You go see her at home. Tell her come to work,’ he said, shoving the card at me. ‘She not have phone so you tell her for me, “Come to work.”’

I looked at the three guys. The massive Bookends and tiny Gavin in front formed a weird little tableau. A very odd kind of family. I decided now was not the time to lecture Gavin about giving out the girls’ addresses.

‘Let me get this straight,’ I said. ‘No one’s seen Vex for a week?’

All three shook their heads in reply. There was a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. If Vex hadn’t been seen all week, then she’d been missing since around the time Ross had kidnapped me.

The address Gavin had written on the card was in Hataitai, a ten-minute cab drive from the club. I thought again about ringing Gemma and telling her about my fears for Vex, but couldn’t face the lecture I’d have to endure for having signed myself out of hospital.

I decided I’d check out Vex’s house, that was all. Maybe she just had a cold or had decided she needed a break for a week or so from doing blow jobs on guys at the club, in which case I’d tell her about Ross, suggest she go away for a while, at least until Ross was caught or his body was found. If she wasn’t at her house or there were signs of something wrong, then I’d call Gemma and get her to sound the alarm.

I’d failed Niki. I wasn’t going to fail Vex.

I paid off the cab at the Hataitai shops, deciding to foot it the rest of the way. I don’t know why I did that — some gut feeling that I should approach Vex’s place unseen. It wasn’t an easy decision.
Despite the drugs I’d taken, the pain in my feet was excruciating. I don’t know what kind of house I’d assumed strippers lived in, but this wasn’t it. It was a large, two-storeyed 1940s wooden number painted a lustrous white with mint-coloured window surrounds. The grey tile roof and white picket fence announced doctor or lawyer rather than sex worker, but hey, who was I to say? The begonias edging the path had me checking the house number again, but sure enough, this was the address Gavin had written on the card.

I stopped outside a house diagonally across and along from Vex’s. It had a driveway with enough head-high shrubbery for me to step into the shadows while I surveyed her house for signs of life. The outside lights were on, casting a pool of golden light on the begonias and interior of the carport — empty except for a sack of kindling stacked neatly in one corner. A cool security light illuminated the far side of the house.

There were no interior lights on that I could see from this side of the road, but I did detect a faint glow on the lawn at the back, possibly created by a bathroom, porch or security light at the back of the house. I’d need to get closer if I was to check that out.

There was nothing lying on the closely cropped lawn that would give a clue about the inhabitant, and the house itself gave nothing away. I still couldn’t reconcile this as being the home of a pre-twenty-year-old sex worker — couldn’t picture Vex living here. There was no sign of life at all, no sounds of music, no banging of cooking utensils, no voices, no twitching curtain.

I was just about to cross the road towards the house when something caught my eye — a movement inside a dark blue Honda Civic parked close to where I was standing, and in direct eye-line to Vex’s house. It’s true, you know, the hairs on the back of your neck do actually rise — well, that’s what it feels like, anyway.
Luckily, I was still hidden from view, my body tucked in behind the shrubbery.

I took a calming breath and angled my head for a better look. There was a man behind the wheel of the Civic, his collar pulled up to above his hairline and a beanie pulled down over his ears. He was slumped in the seat as if he’d been there a long time. His head was turned towards the house opposite. Vex’s house.

It was Ross. It had to be Ross. My bowels loosened, and for one horrible moment I thought I was going to shit myself.

I patted my pockets, cursing that I had little on me in the way of a weapon, defensive or otherwise. The packet of breath-mints and my wallet just weren’t going to cut it. My phone wasn’t much use either — I couldn’t risk using it this close to Ross. I thought of knocking on the door of the house whose driveway I was huddled in, but didn’t want to risk Ross driving off while I was trying to explain things to a nervy neighbour. The way I looked, most likely the occupants wouldn’t even open the door to me.

I was determined not to give up what might be the only chance to capture Ross. If he was never caught, I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for him. No way. I looked around the driveway for anything I might be able to use as a weapon. Nothing. Then I spotted a garden rake leaning up against the fence. Not exactly my weapon of choice, but probably more effective than breath-mints. The wooden handle felt good and solid in my hand, if a bit unwieldy. My only advantage was the element of surprise. I knew I’d have to make the most of that. I gripped the handle and readied myself.

All I had to do was get to the driver’s door, throw it open, and smash Ross in the face with the metal end of the rake. Apart from scratching his neck with his index finger, he hadn’t moved since I’d spotted him. I was confident he hadn’t seen me. The important
thing was not to hesitate. I’d have to throw open the car door and hit him in one movement, before he had time to react.

First, I’d have to cover the distance from the driveway to his car door without him hearing me. I figured it at ten paces. I’d squeezed my bandaged feet into the rubber-soled sneakers Robbie had left under the hospital bed for me. Those ten paces would hurt but, as long as I didn’t yelp, at least the run would be quiet. It was now or never. I steeled myself, gripping the handle of the rake, waiting for my breathing to steady. I could do this. Ten steps, that’s all it would take.

The night was unusually still for Wellington, and even the sound of my breathing seemed loud. No cars had driven past in the ten minutes or so I’d been sheltered in the driveway. There’d been no sound or movement from Vex’s place, either. My knees were going a bit wobbly and my feet hurt like bastards. I knew I had to make the run now. Clutching the rake in my right hand, I braced myself. Five, four, three — At ‘two’ the rake was wrenched out of my hand and a palm smacked across my mouth.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Gemma hissed at me, and smartly removed her hand to avoid being bitten.

Relief and confusion hit me in equal measure. I blurted out about Ross being in the car and Vex being in danger, but I could sense straight away that I’d got something terribly wrong. And when ‘Ross’ climbed out of his car and walked towards us, even I could see it wasn’t Ross. In fact, sandy-haired and freckled, he was pretty much the antithesis of Ross, in appearance anyway. And when he eyed up the rake and followed that with an amused look at me, I figured his personality type was pretty far removed from Ross’s as well.

I hardly needed her to spell it out for me, but being Gemma she did it anyway.

‘The night you were abducted, Sean had Vex picked up and taken somewhere safe. She’s going to stay hidden until we’re sure she’s no longer in danger. Young Detective Williams has been keeping an eye on her house in case Ross turns up here.’

I smiled sheepishly at him, and from behind Gemma’s back he returned the smile.

‘Ryan’s not the sort of guy to hold a grudge, but he might have resented a rake in the kisser, and he might have even been forced to lay a complaint against you if he knew for sure that assaulting an officer was your intention.’

I opened my mouth to speak, but Gemma’s look made me shut it again just as quickly.

‘Which is why,’ she continued, ‘Ryan is relieved to hear that smacking him one was most definitely
not
what you had in mind, Diane.’

Gemma made a gesture that meant I was not allowed to speak, and stepped back so that Ryan and I were face to face. We must’ve looked like two kids caught scrapping in the playground with the teacher insisting we shake hands and make up. Ryan waited politely for my apology, which I offered whole-heartedly. He didn’t seem too perturbed by his close shave with the rake, but as I turned away I caught a gesture from Gemma to Ryan that she owed him one, so maybe he was playing it cooler than he felt.

I assumed Ryan had spotted me and phoned Gemma, but she admitted she had a ‘source’ in the hospital under strict instructions to ring her if I freaked out, did a runner, or otherwise caused a ruckus. She added that there was an office sweepstake at Central on odds that I’d do one of the latter two. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

‘I found the cabbie who’d taken you to the club, and the boys on the door were very helpful,’ she explained, eyeing me a little
suspiciously. ‘You’ve got a fan club of two there, I think.’

‘Sorry, Gem. I freaked out at the thought Ross might go after Vex. And, you know, I didn’t do so good looking out for Niki …’ I left the rest unsaid.

‘You could have rung me, you know,’ she said.

‘I didn’t want to interrupt your date.’

She made a scoffing sound which I wasn’t sure how to interpret. ‘Go home, Di,’ she said. ‘You look like shit. I’ll put someone else on here and Ryan will take you home.’

I started to argue that I could find my own way home, but she gave me a flat look that I knew not to argue with. Ryan opened the door for me, and I carefully moved his jacket and MP3 player into the back before folding my tired, bruised body into the front seat. The interior of the car smelt of mandarins. Either Ryan had been having a healthy snack, or he used a particularly fruity kind of aftershave. I listened to Gemma and Ryan’s murmuring outside the car for another five minutes. I felt comfortable and comforted in the car.

I woke with a start as the car door slammed shut on a waft of cold night air and coffee. Ryan handed me a steaming polystyrene cup. He used one free hand and his teeth to rip open a packet of biscuits.

‘I got you a latte with one sugar — I figured that had all the main food types covered,’ he said, offering me the packet. Chocolate chippies. I nearly kissed him.

‘Thanks,’ I said, already in the process of dunking. ‘Sorry about falling asleep like that.’

‘Hey, it’s preferable to smashing me with a rake,’ he said, firing the engine up and easing out of the forecourt, coffee in one hand, chocolate chippie clenched between his front teeth. He slid his eyes at me in a way I knew meant he was just winding me up.

We didn’t say much the rest of the way to my place. He told me
he’d been instructed to stay parked outside my house until morning, by which time Gemma would have organised someone to keep an eye on me until Ross was found. I didn’t object. In truth I was relieved to know Ryan would be nearby. Ross walked away from killing me once. It’s never smart to push your luck. Ryan pointed out, without sounding in the least bit judgemental, that there had been a plan in place for keeping a watch on me once I was released from hospital, but that I’d jumped the gun a bit by releasing myself before they’d put that plan into action.

He made no comment when I tilted the pot plant up for the key underneath, nor when I put the key back under it, but once inside he suggested I find a new ‘hiding place’ for it tomorrow. He managed not to sneer at the phrase. Ryan walked ahead of me through the house, opening all the doors and checking each room thoroughly, even the wardrobe and broom cupboards, and then he swished back the shower curtain and checked there too. The sound of his size 14 boots walking through the house was reassuring. By the time he called ‘all clear’ I was feeling safe and confident there was no one in my little house except us.