Familiar Strangers Page 22

  ‘Black suits you,’ he says, taking hold of the zip and tugging it up.

  I can’t tell if he’s being funny or serious because I have my back to him, so I turn around. ‘I’m always in black,’ I say, watching him repress his urge to laugh as his eyes look me up and down.

  ‘Well then, dresses suit you.’

  I blush, thinking he may have given me a compliment, and leave the room.

  My mind is shredded. I can’t think, or focus. I know the game is over if I give Turner the cell phone and while I should be happy about that, I’m not. The truth, staring me in the face, is not what I want the truth to be. I don’t want Danny to have murdered Katie Collins. So I’m searching for reason after reason for this not to be the case. Like, what if he didn’t meet Katie to kill her? Katie may already have been dead before he had a chance to meet her? It’s possible, she could have collided with some mad psycho who was at Treehill Park that same night. As soon as this day is over, as soon as Nancy Wall is laid to rest, I’m going to confront him.

  * * *

  The black suit hangs on my father like it’s still on the hanger. The man has almost disappeared, his skin a mere coat of paint covering his bones. Outside the church grounds with Dad’s arm around my shoulder, I listen to his cries as the coffin is lifted out of the funeral car. His body trembles by my side as I hug him tightly. ‘It’ll be okay, Dad. She’s in a better place.’

  I think about these words. Ready-made phrases that sound like they were rented from Hallmark. ‘She’s no longer in pain.’ ‘She’s had a good life.’ How does anyone know that she’s in a better place? That woman could be in hell right now.

  The crowd follow us up the aisle as we take our place in the front row, Danny on my left, Dad on my right. I don’t feel like I’m here, not really, it’s like I’m in a play or something, detached from it all and yet pulling off a great performance.

  The priest performs his role to perfection too, leading us all back down the aisle having convinced us that it’s all part of God’s great plan. ‘Nearer My God, to Thee’ rings out from the balcony above. When we get outside a gust of wind shakes the trees circling the churchyard. But I don’t feel it. My body is numb; none of this is really happening.

  I shake a few more hands, shed a few more tears, and wait. It will be all over soon, this pretense. The truth is only a few hours away. Dad will know what happened while he was away with the army, and Danny will have to admit if he killed Katie Collins. There’s no way out for him. I have the phone. Which I hope has the fingerprints.

  * * *

  Three miles reminiscing in the back of a limousine is not what you want when you know the stories are all tainted by the small fact that none of them are true. They may have happened alright, these great memories from the past. But Becca wasn’t there. ‘That was me,’ I want to say, ‘That was Louise.’ But I don’t, instead turning my attention to the everyday normality beyond the limousine’s window. We arrive at the graveside, to the best plot in the cemetery according to Dad, under a tree.

  ‘She loved trees,’ he says, getting out of the car. But I don’t remember that about her. Don’t remember too much about her anymore. Everything is fading quickly. I’m losing Becca too.

  * * *

  Standing beside the priest, Danny tells everyone how great Nancy Wall was. His words are like gravel in my ears, scratching at my brain. On the opposite side of the coffin, Jeff stands straight, hands behind his back in his black leather jacket. He winks at me, smiling, letting me know I’m not alone. Barry from Oakridge is standing behind him. I didn’t recognize him at first without that awful brown uniform.

  The priest says a bunch of prayers and the coffin is finally and forever lowered into the ground. Pain shoots through my hand; it’s Dad, he’s squeezing far too tightly. Watching his wife disappear out of sight is breaking my hand. Suddenly I feel sad – at least, I think it’s sadness, though it’s hard to describe. Am I letting Louise down if I feel sad?

  With tears of confusion beginning to blur my sight, I raise my eyes away from the ceremony and see a cop car driving into the cemetery, followed closely by another. What’s going on? Surely Turner hasn’t come to hassle me while I’m at a funeral? Doubt swells into fear and I try to get Jeff’s attention but he’s not looking at me. Look at me, Jeff. The cars are moving closer, coming up behind the parked limousines. I glance back to where Jeff is standing and this time he’s watching me. Nudging my head to the right, I alert him. Jeff eventually realizes what I’m doing and looks over to see what’s unfolding behind him. Stepping backwards, he disappears behind the crowd, and the next time I see him he’s walking over towards the cop cars. What’s he going to do? Stop them?

  The first cop car slows to a halt and out steps Detective Turner. My heart somersaults in my chest. Pulling on her jacket, she glances around the cemetery before fixing her eyes on the crowd gathered by the open grave. As far as I can tell, no one else seems to have noticed her yet, everyone still gaping at the hole in the ground. My mouth fills with water. The contents of my stomach race towards my mouth. If they don’t cover that coffin soon I’m going to puke on it. Releasing my hand from my father’s grip, I step backwards until I’m out of sight. The vomit jolts from my mouth onto the grave in front of me. Joseph Best, loving husband and father. Marble stones and Celtic crosses swirl into a blurred picture like some Gothic movie trailer, so I lift my head upwards and pull deep breaths into my lungs. Relax, Becca, relax. Then I feel somebody’s arms encircle me.

  ‘It’s over, Becca. She’s gone.’ Danny hugs me tightly, whispering in my ear. ‘No matter what happens, or happened, Becca, you’ll always be my sister. I love you.’ He kisses my forehead, lingering, unable to pull away. His tears drop, mingling with mine as they flow down my face.

  ‘Was it you, Danny?’ I whisper.

  ‘Was what me?’ he says, pulling his head back, his confused eyes staring into mine.

  Behind him, the crowd hushes, everyone standing still as Detective Turner moves closer. ‘Was what me? Becca?’

  ‘Daniel Wall, I am arresting you for the murder of Katie Collins. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say…’ Her voice fades to a muffle. Stumbling backwards, his eyes locked on mine, Danny says, ‘Becca?’

  I’m frozen, unable to move. The sound of handcuffs echo in my head, as they pull him away. And in that moment, in that stare, those searching eyes struggling to understand what’s happening, I believe in my heart it wasn’t him. Danny did not kill Katie Collins.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  A shocked silence. Then Joanna screaming.

  ‘Danny! Danny!’

  Stumbling over a graveled grave, she tries to reach her husband. She’s only a few feet away when a cop puts out a thick muscled arm to block her. ‘Danny,’ she cries, her voice screeching with fear. Danny is saying something; I can see his lips moving but I can’t make out his words. Glued to the spot, a human headstone amongst all the granite, my gaze follows his black suit as it moves further and further away.

  The buzzing in my head is soon replaced with the muffle of voices, one or two at first, but soon everyone is expressing their shock, their disbelief. Why is Danny Wall being arrested? Did he kill that poor girl? My ears close to their chorus, my eyes still fixed on Danny’s black funeral suit in the distance, watching as Turner’s hand pushes his head down into the back seat of the car.

  A ghostly figure moves towards me. Dad, his face, whiter than before, black rings circling his eyes.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he says in a hushed voice. Does he think no one else noticed? That he might be able to hide this too? I can’t look him in the eye, can’t tell him what he wants to know. ‘Why are they arresting Danny?’ he says.

  Choosing to move past him, I walk down the pathway, not knowing where I’m going or what I’m doing. A hundred eyes burn into my back as Jeff arrives at my side to clutch my arm.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he says.

  Holding on to his arm, hi
s strength, the only life jacket on my leaking boat, I keep my head down and walk past Joanna, who is sobbing into the arms of some unfamiliar woman. She turns to look at me but I ignore her as she calls out, ‘Why have they taken Danny away, Becca? Becca?’

  The name echoes through the air, floating amongst the dead where it belongs.

  I need to get away from here, away from this memorial circus.

  * * *

  We’re outside the cemetery when the two cop cars pass by, Turner’s satisfied face turning to look at me from the side window. It’s the first time I’ve seen anything other than a grim expression on that face. She thinks her job is done, that she has her man. But I think she’s wrong. It doesn’t feel right. Something doesn’t add up.

  That can mean only one thing. One sad, bad thing. My father knew about the abduction. It was my one last vestige of hope, the straw I was clutching, wishing he too had been taken in by Nancy Wall’s performance. But now I realize my life has been spent on the stage with three, not two, brilliant actors. Oscar performances all around.

  ‘I need to go down to the precinct,’ I say, when I finally manage to speak.

  ‘Okay. Have you got the cell with you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  With my hand in my pocket, I feel the cell phone, the single flame burning with the truth. Clutching the plastic covering, I hold it tightly in my grip. It was supposed to be a confrontation. I was planning to do it when all the mourners had left the house later this evening. When Joanna was gone back home to Liam. When Danny, Dad and Becca played happy families, telling their stories as they tidied up after the amazing turnout. Dad was supposed to be discussing how beautiful a service Nancy Wall got, just like she deserved. And, as it turned out, she did get what she deserved – cops by her graveside. But Turner robbed me of my moment. My one reason for coming here today. Whatever she has on Danny must be incriminating. I wonder if it’s something to do with the jacket they took from his house the day they were supposedly doing door-to-door calls. We’ll see how that turns out when I give her the phone, with the fingerprints of whoever sent that text arranging to meet Katie Collins in Treehill Park. I’ll have to tell her I only opened the box from Oakridge this morning, before going to the funeral; that I had planned to give it to her as soon as the funeral was over. I don’t want her going all fucking legal when she finds out I’ve had it since yesterday, interrogating me about who else touched it? blah blah blah.

  When we get to Jeff’s car he puts his hands on my face and tilts my chin so I can’t avoid his existence. His eyes are actually quite comforting, lifting my spirits slightly. But only slightly. I still feel like I’m in hell.

  ‘Jeff, I don’t think Danny did it,’ I blurt out. ‘The way he looked at me, the despair in his eyes, the disbelief… I just don’t believe he did it.’ And I don’t, he had too much to lose; his new baby, his wife, his big job. Why would he commit murder just to cover up a secret for his dying mother? Whereas Dad… his wife was already gone, maybe he couldn’t face losing his daughter too.

  ‘Well, we’ll know soon enough,’ Jeff says. ‘It’ll soon be over.’ He kisses my forehead. It will be all over. I don’t know about that. For me it’s only beginning. Life, real life. Up to now it’s been like The Truman Show, everyone playing their role in the bubble for Becca, while outside the world continued on. Katie Collins continued on. My real mom continued on, until she didn’t. And I, oblivious to everything, played my part unaware of the production. Well, not anymore.

  The car pulls out into the traffic, Jeff at the wheel, me at the crossroads of life. To make a turn I must first of all leave the road I’m on behind me. But will I be able to move on? Say goodbye to everything I know or will I want to stay here in the comfort of the familiar? Time will tell.

  * * *

  The precinct car lot is full when we arrive, so Jeff drops me off, telling me to go on inside while he parks the car out on the street. I’m not nervous, not like before when everything would shake and shiver like I was dancing through these doors. Going straight to the cop working the front desk, I ask to see Detective Turner. He looks bored, worn out, I’m not sure which, but I can tell he is readying himself to tell me I have to wait. Before he gets to say a word I speak.

  ‘She’ll want to see me ASAP,’ I say. ‘Tell her it’s Louise Johnson, tell her I have the untraceable cell.’

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  The following ten minutes drag like I’m waiting for the results of a cancer test. Seconds, disguised as hours. Unable to sit, I walk around the waiting area hoping I’m doing the right thing, reminding myself I have no choice, the killer’s fingerprints are on the cell phone. They have to be. There’s no other reasonable explanation for an untraceable phone to be hidden in Nancy Wall’s room. I wonder, did they text Katie from Mom’s bedside? Did Nancy say something to Dad or Danny, providing the catalyst for them to make contact with her? They may have gone to put Katie off the scent, tell her I left town months ago, or that I was dead, hoping she’d go away and leave their perfect lie intact.

  Turner eventually arrives with that goddamn look of superiority on her face. My confidence instantly ducks into my boots, but this time I stand straight and pull it back out.

  ‘Maybe Danny’s fingerprints aren’t on it,’ I say, handing her the plastic bag containing the cell phone.

  Turner pauses, inspecting the parcel in her hand.

  ‘Why do you say that? Did you find the note?’

  ‘No. Just a hunch.’

  ‘A hunch.’

  Turner’s smirk is irritating. She looks from the cell phone to me. Her fringe is longer now, too long for her eyes to pierce, so she has it pushed to the side.

  ‘Becca, we don’t run investigations on a hunch. We collect facts,’ she says, the condescending tone in her voice making me want to slap her.

  ‘Well, you didn’t collect that fact,’ I say, nodding at the cell in her hand.

  She smiles a little, shaking her head. ‘And thank you for bringing it in,’ she says, walking away, leaving me here none the wiser.

  ‘When can I see Danny?’ I shout after her. ‘When will you get the fingerprints ID’d?’ I’m beginning to sound like some hysterical mother unable to face the ugly truth about her precious son.

  Turner says nothing. When she gets to the automatic doors I get a rush of blood to the head. I can’t leave it like that; walk away without trying to find out why he was arrested.

  ‘Detective!’ I shout, hurrying towards her.

  ‘Rebecca?’

  ‘Why did you arrest Danny?’ I say.

  Turner sighs without even attempting to hide how annoying she finds me.

  ‘I can’t tell you that,’ she says, shaking her head as she walks away. I can tell by her smug smile that she has something big on him. Danny must be guilty.

  Behind me, I hear the familiar comfort in Joanna’s voice directing my father through the entrance door, telling him she’s found me, that I’m in here.

  I don’t want to turn around. I don’t want to see him.

  Danny killed Katie Collins. The words are flying around in my head. Danny is going to spend his life in prison. I can’t believe it.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Joanna says, coming up behind me. Will I tell her? Can I turn around and destroy her life or will I wait for the legal team to do it? I’ll let the legal team do it.

  ‘They’re not saying much. He’s inside now with some attorney being interrogated.’ I say this not knowing if he is or not. ‘We have to wait out here.’

  Behind Joanna, Dad stands like a scared puppy, afraid to approach me. Guilt is sticking to my soul. How did I doubt him? How could I think that he was part of this deceit, that he knew about the abduction? The poor man, what a fucking day he’s put in. Nonetheless, I’m going to have to tell him the truth about everything, throw one last bomb into his crumbling world.

  Jeff pushes through the door searching for me. Seeing him, Joanna pulls me to the side saying, ‘We need to talk, a
lone.’

  I’m surprised by how calm she is; her ability to remain in control even though her husband has just been arrested is baffling me. But then again, that’s always been a trait of hers, control. The woman is always one step in front of me and everyone else, always ready, knowing what to do, organizing the troops. Nothing seems to faze her. I think that’s what Danny likes best about her. Everything gets done. She’s going to get some shock when she finds out the truth about our family.

  ‘Erm…’ I say. I’m looking at Jeff approaching. He smiles when he sees me notice him.

  ‘Now, Becca,’ Joanna says.

  The waiting area is almost full so we leave Jeff with Dad and walk outside the building.

  ‘He knows,’ Joanna says.

  ‘He knows what?’ I say.

  ‘Your dad. He knows about you, Becca, about the abduction. I had to tell him, on the way over in the car.’

  Anger sweeps through my body like a tsunami, wiping out every other emotion.

  ‘What the fuck?’ I shout. ‘You told him?’

  ‘I had to, nothing was making sense to him.’

  My mouth opens but all I want to do is spit on her. How dare she? And how does she even know?

  Holding her hand out as if diverting an assault, she says, ‘I had to, Becca. He wanted to know how Danny knew Katie Collins.’

  ‘How did you know?’ I growl through gritted teeth.

  ‘Danny told me the week before we got married, said he couldn’t marry me unless I knew the whole truth.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have told him,’ I say, pushing her arm out of the way and stepping in closer until my face is inches from hers. ‘You’re just an interfering bitch. You had no right, but you had to be the one to tell him, didn’t you? Had to be the one taking control.’