The Defendant (18 page)

She’d missed the bell by five minutes and most of the students had vanished. The school looked deserted. She approached a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties, sitting behind a desk in the reception area. The woman looked at Josie curiously, but didn’t seem surprised by her arrival.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Josie Munro. I believe your principal has spoken to Belinda Murphy?”

The woman stood and moved closer. “You’re here about Daniel Logan, is that right?”

“Yes.”

The woman smiled kindly. “I’ll let Mr Ledingham know you’re here. Daniel’s in with him.”

Josie nodded her thanks and turned away, folding her arms across her chest. She heard the receptionist murmur into the phone and a few moments later, a door at the end of the corridor swung open and a tall man with an enormous belly strode toward her, his expression grave.

“Doctor Munro, I’m Stewart Ledingham, the principal of Watervale High. Thank you for coming.”

Despite his awkward appearance, his tone was respectful. Some of Josie’s nerves receded and she acknowledged his greeting with another nod.

“Daniel’s in my office. Come on through.”

Josie hesitated. “Does he know about…? What… What have you told him?”

“On the advice of our school counselor, I’ve kept it as vague as possible. He doesn’t know about the attempted suicide, if that’s what we’re calling it, but he knows his father’s been hospitalized and is receiving treatment for depression.”

“Is he aware I’m here to collect him?”

“Yes, I told him you were going to take him and his brother to your place for the night. He seems okay about it.”

A little more of the tension that gripped Josie’s stomach since her arrival at the school dissipated. She breathed out slowly and sent a silent prayer heavenwards that things would work out.

“I’d like to see him now, if you don’t mind. I have to be at the primary school shortly.”

“Yes, of course. And, look, if you don’t think he’s up to school tomorrow, please feel free to keep him home.” He shrugged and looked away. “We do our best, but we can’t shield him from everything. I’m sure there are students who have approached him about what happened. After all he’s been through, I’m not sure he’s able to focus on anything school related and to tell you the truth, that’s the least of the boy’s worries at the moment.”

“His hearing starts tomorrow. Don’t worry, he won’t be at school.”

The man in front of her blushed profusely and Josie just shook her head. He should have made it his business to know when Daniel would next go before the court. It was as simple as that.

With a blustering attempt to cover his tracks, the principal turned away and headed back the way he’d come. She drew in a deep breath, squared her shoulders and followed him.

* * *

Josie glanced over at Daniel who sat in the front seat of her car. He held himself stiffly and his head was turned away from her. Apart from a murmured hello when she’d greeted him in the principal’s office, he hadn’t spoken a word.

She was a little taken aback when she saw him. He seemed to have lost weight—pounds he couldn’t afford to lose—and his eyes were ringed with dark circles. His expression was hallow, haunted, void of any emotion. A pang of sympathy went through her and she wished she could take away his pain. His mother was dead; he’d been charged with murder and now, his father was in hospital suffering from demons of his own. No wonder the boy was upset.

“Do you live in town?”

The quiet question came from the child in the back seat and Josie eased her breath out on a surreptitious sigh, thankful that the silence in the car had been broken. At least Jason was talking to her. In fact, although he looked drawn and pale, he appeared to be holding up better than his brother. That was understandable. Jason wasn’t the one who’d witnessed his mother’s rape or was looking at being put on trial for murder.

Knowing the boy waited for her answer, she cleared her throat and replied, “No, I don’t live in town, but I’m not too far out.”

“So, you live on a farm then,” Jason said.

“Yes, kind of, but not a farm like yours. I only live on a few acres. I’m renting a cottage from the Holloways, out on Whiskey Creek Road. Do you know where that is?”

Jason shook his head. “Nope. We haven’t been here long. We’re only renting, too.”

“Where did you come from?” Josie asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Melbourne. It was closer to Dad’s work there. We moved here because Mom wanted to get out into the country. She hated living in the city.”

“I know what you mean,” Josie replied. “I used to live in Brisbane and while it’s nowhere near as big or busy as Melbourne, it has its fair share of drawbacks. I’m more than happy I made the move back to the bush.”

Jason sat forward a little in his seat. “So, are you from Watervale?”

“No, I was born in Grafton and my parents still live there. It’s nice to be close to home again.”

“Yeah, as much as Mom hated Melbourne, I miss being near my friends. At least there were people who we knew down there.”

“What about other family members? Do you have any aunts or uncles? You won’t have to stay with me forever. In fact, I’m not sure if your principal told you, but it’s probably only for the night. Mrs Murphy who works with the Department of Family and Community Services will speak to your dad tomorrow. If he’s not well enough to come home, I’m sure she’ll call one of your relatives.”

“We don’t have any relatives,” Daniel stated bluntly. “None that we’re close to, anyway. Mom has a sister way out west, but the first time we met her was at Mom’s funeral.”

Josie was glad Daniel had entered into the conversation, but his stark words sent quiet slivers of pain through her heart.

“What’s wrong with Dad, anyway? No one will tell me,” Jason said softly.

Daniel tensed beside her. Josie wondered what to say. She wanted to be honest with them, but she also didn’t want to cause them any more pain. Besides, once their father had received some proper counseling and perhaps some medication, there was no reason why he couldn’t return home and be there for his sons.

“Your dad’s still struggling a little with the things that happened to your family a couple of months ago,” she said gently. “It’s perfectly natural and perfectly understandable. Losing a family member can make you sad for a long, long time.”

“Yeah, I’m still sad about losing Mom,” Jason replied, his voice little more than a whisper. “I wish she was still here.”

“Dad wishes he was dead. Just like I do.” Anger laced every one of Daniel’s harsh words. Utter devastation ravaged his face. Josie tried hard to contain her shock and sadness and to keep her attention on the road.

Easing off the accelerator pedal, she took the turn into her driveway, grateful that they were nearly home. She couldn’t properly deal with this situation while behind the wheel. She brought the car to a halt outside the fenced yard that surrounded the cottage and then turned to Daniel.

“Would you like to come inside?”

He turned to look at her with a tortured gaze and vehemently shook his head. Her heart sank, but she knew better than to push him. He’d come in when he was ready. Instead, she turned to Jason and asked, “Could you help me bring the things in from the car?”

They’d stopped at a local department store and had purchased a few necessary items: pajamas, toothbrushes and a change of clothes. Josie had chosen not to return to their farmhouse and hoped what she’d purchased would be enough to see them through until Belinda could make alternative arrangements.

To her relief, Jason nodded and climbed out of the car. Josie followed suit. Together, they carried the sacks of clothes and other items into the cottage. Daniel ignored them, steadfastly staring out the window. Josie’s heart broke anew at the anguish on his face, but knew the best thing to do was to leave him alone.

He’d been through so many traumatic experiences in such a short time and hadn’t received near enough professional help to deal with all of it. She’d done her best from the beginning, but she’d been brought in not as a counselor, but as a servant of the court. Her role in his life had not been to offer him help, but to decide whether he was capable of answering for his actions. As far as she knew, he hadn’t seen anyone for
him
; he hadn’t been given any strategies to help him heal.

Well, for now the legal system could be damned. She’d done what was asked of her and submitted her report. No one could accuse her of bias if she offered him her support now. There was no way she could stand by and watch his pain and desolation ravage him like a disease and simply ignore it.

All her life, she’d wanted to help children. She’d studied child psychology with that single goal in mind. She’d grown up in a safe and secure, happy household, but wasn’t immune to the fact that plenty of children didn’t. One of her best friends in the fourth grade went through a terrible time when her parents divorced. Josie could still remember how Annie Faraday would cry herself sick in the bathroom each lunch time, recalling events that had happened at home. Josie’s heart would break, right alongside her friend’s. She’d done all she could to make Annie feel better.

It had given birth to a fierce determination to learn how to offer help; to somehow, in some small way, develop skills to help other children get through painful situations such as these. And she’d done it. She’d graduated with a PhD in child psychology.

Doctor Josie Munro, Child Psychologist.
Her parents had been so proud. Josie had been eager to get out into the real world and make a difference.

And then she’d taken the job in private practice and had begun to lose her way. In a way, she was grateful for the ruptured brain aneurysm her father suffered last Christmas. The shocking reminder of the fragility of life had woken her up with a jolt. She’d returned to Brisbane immediately after the festive season and had handed in her resignation. It had been fate and a whole lot of luck that a private health service in Watervale was looking for a child psychologist to open up a practice.

And here she was, with a boy so damaged, she didn’t know if she could help him and another boy who needed her almost as much. Jason might not have suffered through the same trauma Daniel had, but he’d suffered just the same. No one could experience the death of their mother, let alone by suicide and not bear some deep and penetrating scars. Josie was just glad he was still able to talk about it, even a little. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something. She could tell Daniel hadn’t come that far.

Swallowing a sigh, Josie pulled the last of the sacks from the trunk, these ones containing the makings of dinner, and halted alongside Daniel’s window. Setting the grocery sacks on the ground beside the car, she squatted down until they were at eye level. He immediately averted his gaze.

“Hey, Daniel. It’s okay. I’m not going to pressure you to come inside. You stay out here for as long as you need to, all right? I’m going inside to make up a bed. There’s one for you and your brother. Then, I’m going to prepare dinner. I have cookies and milk in the kitchen if you’d like an afternoon snack. You just come in when you feel up to it, okay?”

He gave her a jerky nod, but remained silent. Even so, Josie was relieved. Any communication was better than none. She stood and collected the sacks at her feet and began to walk away.

“Josie?”

The quiet cry brought her to a halt. Slowly, she turned around to face him. “Yes?”

“Thanks.”

Tears burned her eyes and she hurriedly blinked them away. He needed her strong, secure, impenetrable. She drew in a shaky breath and answered him. “That’s okay. Like I said, you come in when you’re ready.”

* * *

Chase turned into the driveway that led to the old Holloway place and was relieved when he saw the lights on in the cottage. After Riley revealed Josie had asked about him, he couldn’t get the idea out of his mind that he’d screwed up good and proper.

Could he have been wrong to hide the truth from her, to not give her the opportunity to make up her own mind? At the time, he’d kept it a secret so that she didn’t feel obligated to stay. It felt like the right thing to do, even though it tore him apart.

But he was desperately unhappy and she was still on her own.
She’d asked about him.
He was sure she still cared. Had his actions to push her away done nothing more than cause even more heartache for both of them? The thought saddened him.

All afternoon, he’d wrestled with the idea of going out to visit her and had eventually given in. Whether it was a good idea or not, he no longer cared. He wanted to see her. He
needed
to see her. It was as simple and complex as that.

She probably wouldn’t be happy to have him arrive on her doorstep. They’d mostly avoided one another at the barbeque, but he had a ready excuse if she wondered why he was showing up at her home. He only hoped she’d buy it.

He pulled up in his unmarked police car next to her fully restored forest green Boss 351 Mustang. The car was unoccupied. A garage stood a little distance from the house, its door open. Curious as to why she hadn’t parked such a classic car under cover, he strode across the dirt track to the garage and stopped just inside the doorway.

Inside the garage was dimly lit, but he could make out the silhouette of a TT600 Triumph Motorcycle with enough horsepower to make him catch his breath. He shook his head and whistled, impressed.
Was it hers?