The Defendant (3 page)

“Chase? Are you okay?”

The concern in Riley’s voice reached him through the plethora of decade-old memories. With a determined effort, Chase shut down the personal thoughts and concentrated on his boss.

“I-I’m fine. I was just thinking about…all of this.”

“Yeah, it’s a fucking tragedy all round.” Riley’s gaze fell on the body and his eyes hardened. “Except for this piece of shit. He got exactly what he deserved.”

“Yeah, when word gets out, there won’t be too many around who’ll sympathize with the son of a bitch.” Chase glanced at Kelly Logan who remained standing in the corner of the room, quietly sobbing, the paramedic still by her side. “I hate to think what this will do to their family.”

Riley followed his gaze and his face darkened. “She needs to get to the hospital where they can do up a rape kit. We’ll talk to her again a little later. I’ll call Josie. It’s early, but when I explain to her what’s happened, she’ll be more than happy to help. That poor boy needs her.”

The thought of seeing Josie again after all this time, let alone being in the same room as her, made him feel a mixture of emotions. He pressed his lips together and nodded. Silently, he sent a prayer heavenwards that he’d have the courage to handle it.

CHAPTER FOUR

Josie blinked hard and wiped the sleep from her eyes with her fist. She glanced at the clock mounted on the dashboard of the forest green Boss 351 Mustang she’d borrowed from her father and stifled a groan.
Four-thirty
. It was way too early in the morning to be out.

When Riley had called her, waking her from a deep and dreamless sleep, she’d immediately thought something had happened to one of their parents. They were both elderly and while they still enjoyed good health, that kind of thing could change in an instant. She had only to remember what had happened the previous Christmas.

It had only been four months since her father had been lying in the ICU, unconscious, after a brain hemorrhage. The scar that ran from the base of his skull to just below his ear was still puckered and pink. Seeing him so still and pale against the white sheets of the hospital bed, with tubes and monitors and other medical paraphernalia surrounding him, she’d been rudely reminded of the fragility of his existence and how tenuous one’s grip on life could be.

After forcing herself to ask the question, she’d been beyond relieved when Riley assured her he wasn’t calling about their parents. He’d gone on to explain in the briefest of detail why she was needed at the station. She’d immediately agreed to come in and it only took a few minutes for her to throw on her clothes.

Now, she peered through her windscreen, grateful for the extra powerful driving lights her brother Riley had insisted she install now that she was back living in the country. The bright beams cut a wide swathe through the darkness and illuminated the road in front of her. She’d been warned by her neighbors to watch out for kangaroos while driving at night and she now had her eyes peeled to the shoulders and ribbon of asphalt unfurling before her.

She was thankful she didn’t live too far out of town. She’d accepted the job before making enquires about the availability of houses to rent. When the time came, she searched on the Internet and was a little concerned to discover decent rentals in Watervale were in short supply.

Her parents had insisted she could stay with them and while she loved them for making the generous offer, she’d come home to Grafton to take stock of her life. Standing on her own two feet, with her shoulders back and her head held high—finding a place to call her own was an important first step on the journey.

Not that she could call a rental house her own, but at twenty-eight, it would be better than moving back in with her parents, no matter how dearly she loved them. To move home would have been the easiest thing to do, but it would feel like she’d failed to make it if she took that route.
 

A week before she was due to start her new job, she’d stumbled across an advertisement in the local paper. The house had been listed privately and she’d immediately called the landlord. The cottage was small, but it was only a ten-minute drive from Watervale. When she’d taken a look at the place, she’d fallen in love with the serenity of the quiet green fields that surrounded it. She could imagine having a dog and a cat and she had just the right chair for the front porch. There was plenty of room for a veggie patch and maybe even a few chickens.

She smiled and turned to the landlord, who’d been waiting a little anxiously behind her. ‘I’ll take it,’ she’d said and signed a six-month lease on the spot.

Now, the lights of Watervale showed up in the distance and Josie swallowed a sigh. In a very short time she’d be facing a boy who from all accounts had been traumatized to such a degree he was almost mute. She hadn’t asked Riley what had caused it and he hadn’t offered. He’d only asked for her help. She hoped she was up to the task.

* * *

Josie parked in the car park adjacent to the modest brick building that housed the Watervale Police Station. Collecting her briefcase, she stepped out of the Mustang and tugged her jacket closer around her. The night air had a definite chill to it, reminding her that winter wasn’t far away. It came so much earlier in Watervale. The northern climes of Brisbane, not far from the coast, were almost immune to its effects. She’d never worn a winter coat while she’d lived there.

The lights of the station beckoned. Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, she entered the building through the automatic glass sliding doors and made her way over to the counter. Her gaze focused on the man who stood behind it. A second later, her brain registered the all-too familiar face and her mouth dropped open.

Chase Barrington stared back at her.
How…?
Her heart stopped still and then took off at a pounding gallop. He was the last person she’d expected to see. She’d had no idea he was stationed here at Watervale. At least, she assumed he was an officer. He’d been in training to become one when they’d last met. He wasn’t dressed in a uniform, but he stood behind the counter in such a manner that made her think he belonged there.

Against her will, her gaze ran over the broad shoulders that were only emphasized by his navy blue, tailored suit and pristine white business shirt. His hair was as dark and unruly as she remembered.
Boy, did she remember.
The longish curls wrapped intimately around his ears, like they used to around her fingers.

The memory sent a surge of anger flooding through her. She hadn’t seen him for a decade. For ten years, her questions had gone unanswered. For months, even years, after he’d left, she’d struggled with the injustice of it.

How he could love her one day, and ignore her the next?
And not only ignore her—completely and utterly cut her off without a word of explanation. Not a phone call or text, not even an email.

It had taken her a long time, but she’d eventually managed to put it all behind her, refusing to dwell on the pain that had marred her youth. The only relief she’d found was that her single night in his arms hadn’t resulted in a pregnancy. As close as she was to her family, she hadn’t told a single soul about what had happened, preferring to bury the pain and humiliation in a deep dark place inside her. A teenage pregnancy would have made that impossible.

She closed her eyes briefly at the memory and steeled herself to acknowledge him. With more courage than she thought she could muster, she lifted her gaze to his and bit back a gasp. His eyes burned with an emotion so fierce she took a step back.

Confusion whirled inside her. Was he
angry?
What right did
he
have to be angry? No, she must be mistaken. It couldn’t be anger. She was the one who had the monopoly on
that
emotion. After all, she’d been the one who was dumped.

Refusing to let him see how much his presence affected her, she arched her eyebrows in a casual show of surprise.

“Chase Barrington? Is it you? Are you working here, in Watervale?”

Chase stared at her. His jaw moved and then he swallowed. A flush crept up his neck. He opened his mouth and finally uttered a few words.

“Josie Munro. Fancy seeing you here? Riley only just told me you’d moved back from Brisbane. What have you been up to?”

Josie desperately looked around for her brother, praying silently for him to appear. When he failed to materialize, she stammered a reply.

“I-I’m a child psychologist. I’m privately contracted with Regional and Rural Health, but I suspect Riley’s already told you that or else I wouldn’t be here. What’s the problem? Riley mentioned something about a boy.”

Chase drew in a breath, as if relieved to have another topic to focus on. “Yes, Daniel Logan. Twelve years old. Tonight he shot and killed the man who was raping his mother.”

“Oh, God.” The hoarse words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her mind flooded with visions of the poor child who was no doubt replaying the night’s events in all its Technicolor detail and wondering how the hell it had happened.

“Where is he?” she asked, in a voice that wasn’t quite steady.

Chase’s lips compressed. He looked at her with sympathy and understanding and something else she wasn’t brave enough to define.

Josie looked away. She didn’t have time for distractions.

“He’s in Interview Room Three. If you head over that way, I’ll go and unlock the door and take you down to see him.”

Josie turned and looked behind her at the door Chase indicated, relieved to put a little distance between them. A moment later, the door swung open, cutting her relief short. Chase met her on the other side. She stepped through the doorway and the sleeve of her jacket slid up against his. Emotion flared in the emerald-green depths of his eyes, halting her breath. A second later, it was gone.

“Come through here. I’ll take you to him.” With that, he spun on his heel and headed across the squad room. Josie stumbled after him, wishing his legs weren’t so long. His strides ate up the distance and she struggled to keep up. As if sensing her predicament, he halted and turned to face her, his gaze running over her from top to bottom.

“I don’t know how you manage to walk anywhere in those heels,” he muttered.

Heat followed in the wake of his gaze, along with an increase in her pulse. She steadfastly ignored both and fixed her gaze at a spot somewhere below his neck.

“The boy’s through here.” He turned away and continued across the floor of the squad room. A closed doorway led to a corridor with rooms branching off from either side. Riley stepped out of a room about halfway down. He saw her and smiled briefly, though the expression in his eyes remained grim.

“Josie, thanks for coming. I’m sorry to drag you out of bed.”

She waved away his apology. “No need to apologize, Riley. I’m happy to help.”

“I take it Chase filled you in?”

She kept her gaze fixed on Riley and replied, “Yes, he did.”

“Did he tell you the boy’s not talking?”

She glanced at Chase and just as quickly looked away. “No, but from what I understand the child’s been through, I’m not surprised.”

“His mother’s been taken to the hospital and we haven’t yet been able to locate his father. Daniel has a younger brother who’s been taken to emergency foster care. They have no other family living close.”

“So, Daniel’s in there alone?”

Riley’s lips compressed and he nodded grimly. “Yes.”

“Then he needs me.” Ignoring both men, Josie pushed past them and stepped into the interview room Riley had exited moments before. A boy with tousled blond hair, who looked a little small for his age stared at the gray Formica table, his hands twisted in his lap. He wore a faded navy T-shirt with a white Nike emblem splashed across the front and a long pair of cotton pajama pants.

The room was small and sparsely furnished. Apart from a pair of hard plastic chairs, it was utterly devoid of comfort and seemed to engulf him in its starkness. Josie’s heart went out to him.

“Hi, Daniel, my name’s Josie,” she said gently. “The police have asked me to come and talk to you. Is it okay if I sit down?”

She waited for a response, but none was forthcoming. Stepping closer to the table, she pulled out the vacant chair and lowered herself onto it. Flipping open her briefcase, she tugged out the legal pad and a pen. Daniel’s gaze remained fixed on the table. She busied herself for a few moments, recording the date and time and place of the interview. Without looking at him, she spoke again.

“So, Daniel. Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I was born in Grafton, a couple of hours from here. My dad was a judge and my mom was a nurse. I have five older brothers and a younger sister. Let me tell you, I had it pretty tough. My brothers still give me a hard time. You have a brother, don’t you?”

She posed the casual question and was rewarded with the slightest of nods. She disguised her relief with another question. “What’s his name?”

“Jason.” The response was barely a whisper. Still, Josie took it as a good sign. At least the boy was talking.

“Are you older or younger?”

“Older.” Again, the reply was soft and hesitant, but Josie didn’t lose heart. Instead, she smiled. “Ah, so you’re the one who gets to give
him
a hard time. How old is he?”

“Eight.”