Double Take (34 page)

“You watching the news?” It was Jack. The two of them had become friends in the last couple of months. Some might think it was a weird friendship. But as far as Steel was concerned, after what they'd been through their friendship was not only normal—it was downright solid.

“Holy shit, man, can you believe it? She drove off the friggin' cliff.” Steel drove his hand in a large arc, demonstrating the car's dive. He refrained from acting out an explosion.

The reporter moved to a couple of kids standing by the lake. One of them was wrapped in a blanket. “Over here is the boy who found the car. Henri, can you tell everyone what happened?”

The kid's face lit up and his eyes flicked from the camera to the microphone as he spoke. “We were playing ice hockey, just like we do each week. But even though it was near the end of the season we thought it was okay. I went for this shot, but Bailey tripped me—”

“Did not.” The kid beside Henri was all pink chubby cheeks.

“He did,” Henri continued. “And when I hit the ice I went straight through. It was freezing. I thought I was going to die. I can't swim. But then when I looked down I was standing on the car. I couldn't believe it.”

“There's the car.” Steel smiled as the footage turned to the boot of the red car as it rose above the icy lake.

“Think they'll show her?” Jack said.

“Doubt it. She ain't going to look pretty after three months in the water.”

“Good.” For nearly ten years, his life had been in limbo. Now with Tiffany Delacroix finally found, the last piece in the dreadful puzzle was in place. It was over.

Steel could almost hear Jack smiling. Ever since he'd hooked up with Candice again, he'd been grinning like a man who'd just discovered Viagra. Now with this news of Tiffany's death, Jack would hopefully be able to put the whole sordid mess behind him, too. Steel was happy for the silly bugger.

A
small group of customers stood in line at the bank and Jack waited patiently at the back of the group. It had taken some time before he'd worked up the courage to enter a bank again. If his boss at the upholstery plant hadn't demanded he do it, Jack would never have set foot in one again. But once he'd made that big leap, Jack had visited almost every Friday afternoon after he finished his shift at work.

Jack caught a glimpse of himself in the glass door and that settled him a fraction. He no longer looked like the mean bugger who'd left prison, and all in all he was pretty happy with what he saw. He'd taken Candice's advice and was proud of his perfectly cropped three-day growth. His hair was a bit longer now and he'd had it styled at a hairdresser's. The dentist had done an amazing job with his chipped and yellowed teeth, too, and he was now able to smile with confidence, which he did often. The finishing touch was the new wardrobe Candice had helped him choose.

As Jack queued for his turn he scanned the waiting area around him. Not because he was casing the place, but actually to make sure no-one else was. Not that he'd have known what to do if he ever suspected anyone. Probably shit his pants.

“Next please.” The voice came from the end teller's station.

The woman who called out was hidden behind the partition, but he could tell it was Patricia. She always had a nervous inflection in her voice and he had the impression that serving customers was her worst nightmare. A librarian's job would've suited her better.

“Hello Patricia.” He smiled at her as he approached her counter.

“Oh, hi Jackson, how are you?” He never did like how the bank staff insisted on calling him by his correct name. He guessed it was bank protocol. The name Jackson reminded him of his prison days. The guards had also insisted on using his full name. No-one else ever had.

“I'm good, thank you. Just finished my shift, heading home now. Can I withdraw a hundred dollars please?” It was his standard weekly withdrawal, just enough for bus money, a few groceries, a six-pack of beer and a bottle of Candice's favourite wine.

Patricia counted the notes in silence, and as Jack watched her, he remembered the terrified faces of Anna, Pearl, Tania and Ian as they'd cowered from the lifelike weapons shoved in their faces. He could never undo or forget the horrible thing he'd done. He just hoped they were all able to somehow move on with their lives.

Patricia handed over the money and he smiled at her. “Have a great weekend.”

“You too, Jackson. See you next week.”

As he left the branch a young woman with intense wrinkles and dark circles under her eyes was staring at him. Trying not to meet her glare, he picked up his pace and strode past her in the opposite direction.

“Mr Rich?”

Jack stopped in his tracks. Fear rippled up his back because he had no idea what was coming. He reluctantly turned to her. Her head was down and she was fishing around in her handbag.

She must have found what she was looking for because her face suddenly changed. Her features softened, her eyes almost twinkled and her smile actually made him relax. The woman stepped towards him, holding out a notebook.

“Mr Rich, I saw your story on
60 Minutes
. Would you mind autographing my notepad for me? Actually, could you make it out to my husband Harry? He's serving time up in Borallon, but he's innocent too.”

Jack wanted to laugh aloud. Clearly his judgement radar was way off. One second he thought the woman would stab him in the back, now she was idolising him. He wondered if he'd ever get his sense of trust back.

“Please call me Jack,” he said as he reached for her notepad. “Let me tell you something, though. I was never innocent. But I paid for my crime and I learnt from my mistakes. It's what your husband does with himself afterwards that counts.”

She cast her eyes downward. “Yes, you're right. Hopefully he'll learn this time.”

Jack wrote a quick note and smiled as he handed it back to her.

It was a strange thing to relate to people you didn't even know. Almost every person who had approached him since that report went to air had a loved one who was either serving time or had been there, done that. Jack didn't feel sorry for the guilty, but his heart went out to the innocent ones who suffered because someone they loved had done something foolish. He'd never forget what he put Candice through. It was selfish, cruel and stupid, and although he could never undo it, he was determined to make up for every day he'd made her suffer.

He walked out of the bank and headed towards the bus station. But as he passed by an alleyway, he saw someone that made his heart stop. It was a chance sighting, as if he was meant to be right here at this very moment. It was also an opportunity Jack couldn't miss, and although he'd always dreaded the day he ever caught up with her again, he knew what he had to do.

He joined the line-up of people weaving along the side wall of the old church building. They shuffled in silence, each person lost in their own world. The grey-haired woman in front of him held the hand of a young child whose dirty, bare feet were covered in red welts. When Jack looked down at the child, he, or maybe it was a she, looked up at him with vacant, uninterested eyes. Jack smiled but the child's blank stare continued until he had to look away.

Once he entered the building he scanned the room, desperate to see her again. He soon began to wonder if his eyes had been playing tricks on him. After all, this place, with its mismatched furniture and run-down decor, was not the type of place she would ever have been seen in.

The more he thought about it, the more he sensed he'd been wrong. But just as he was about to give up, she strode through a set of swinging doors carrying a large pot with plumes of steam rising from it. Her hair was roughly pulled up into a bun and her white singlet top had a large red stain across the front. She reached for a tea towel resting over her shoulder and used it to wipe her brow. “There's plenty for everyone. Big spoonfuls, please, Helen.” Jack was surprised when she smiled. Actually, the more he watched, the more he realised Rachel looked the happiest he'd ever seen her.

He broke his place in the queue, deciding against his original plan, but once again fate intervened. Rachel looked up and stared right at him. A flicker of recognition crossed her face. He stalled, waiting to see her reaction. She turned, and holding both swinging doors open she yelled through them, “Wally, can you take over for a minute?”

Moments later a balding man with a gaunt face came through the door and approached her. She handed him the spoon she'd been using and instructed him on what to do, then stepped away from the serving table, again whipping the tea towel off her shoulder to wipe her hands.

Her stride was long and purposeful. Aimed straight for Jack. The last time she did this he had been caught off guard. Not this time, though. He braced himself for the confrontation he knew was coming. But he couldn't believe it when she opened her arms and wrapped them softly around his shoulders instead.

“Ever since that television show, I've been hoping we'd bump into each other.” Her voice still had that velvety ring to it. “Took you long enough.”

“I didn't think you'd want to see me.”

She eased back, cupped his cheeks and looked right into his eyes. “Now why would you think that?”

“Well…I can think of about nine years' worth of reasons.” Jack knew she was paroled early, yet, looking at her now, it was hard to believe she'd spent any time behind bars. She looked radiant.

Rachel flicked her hand as if it were nothing. “Have you got time for a coffee?”

He shrugged. “Yes, of course.” With her arm hooked into his elbow she led him out the door and to a café across the road.

Once they entered she waved at one of the staff. “Hey Tommy, how about a couple of cappuccinos.”

“Sure, Rach, I'll bring them over in a tick.”

Holding Jack's hand, she led him to a quiet booth at the back. She climbed in first and slid over, patting the seat beside her for Jack to sit.

“Just like old times, hey,” she said.

He frowned. “Except I can't recall ever sharing a quiet cuppa with you.”

She crinkled her nose. “Yeah, I guess you're right. I was never…that girl.”

Jack didn't know what to say, because the woman he was looking at now was a far cry from the Rachel she ever was.

“You know, I never did thank you for covering for me all those years ago.”

“Yes you did.”

“No. Not properly.”

“You hired the best lawyers.”

“Daddy's tape got you the best lawyers.”

Jack shrugged. “I figured that.”

“There's something else I never told you.” Her eyes dropped. “It was me who stole the diamond ring out of the safe in the convenience store.”

He blinked at her. All this time he'd thought it was his brother. In his mind Jimmy was the only one who'd be stupid enough to do it, and also arrogant enough to never admit to doing it, even if his own brother was destined to take the blame. He was floored by Rachel's admission. “Why?”

Rachel squirmed in her seat. “I had this ridiculous notion that you and I…”

She didn't finish her sentence and Jack felt his jaw drop. “You…liked me? You never said anything.”

She shrugged. “I had communication issues back then.”

He nodded. “Yes, yes you did.”

He thought about how different his life—and hers for that matter—would've been if either of them had acted on their affection for the other. Jack had done some pretty stupid things in his life. And breaking into the convenience store was up there as one of the worst. At the time it seemed like taking the rap for his brother, his love interest and his two best friends was the gallant thing to do. Especially as Rachel's daddy would hire the best lawyers so Jack wouldn't serve any jail time. A lot of good that did.

The coffees arrived and Rachel raised her mug for a toast. Although Jack copied, he had no idea what they'd be toasting to.

“Here's to you, Jack. You saved me.”

“Pfft… What?” He turned to take in her dark brown eyes.

“Look at me. I've finally found something I love to do. I learnt a lot about myself in prison. I learnt that I'm not invincible.” She stirred her cappuccino as she spoke distinctly, with conviction. Jack had the impression she was forcing herself to admit these triumphs aloud. “I learnt that money doesn't solve everything. I learnt how to trust people.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Look at what I do now. I help all those people. I have a purpose, and Daddy's money finally goes to good use.”

“Still using those tapes, hey?”

“Nah, I threw them out ages ago, but he doesn't need to know.” She broke into a gentle, throaty giggle that Jack hadn't heard from her before. Jack sensed that she really was happy.

“Have you seen Donny since you were released?” As yet Jack hadn't caught up with Donny, but he hoped to one day.

“Yes, I have.” She held up her slender left hand for him to see the modest diamond ring on her finger. “We're engaged now.”

“No shit.” It was his turn to laugh. He held up his mug and clinked it loudly with hers.

T
rent didn't like getting registered mail. It usually meant bad news. The last two registered letters had contained speeding tickets. Both times his slightly excessive speed had been justified, but when he weighed up the time involved with disputing the fine and the loss of hourly income to do so, he decided it made more financial sense to just pay up and try to forget about it.

With reluctance, he ran his silver letter opener along the envelope and tipped the contents onto the table. He only needed a glance to realise it wasn't a speeding fine. A pair of plane tickets caught his attention first. One was in his name and one in Max's. They were for flights from Brisbane to London. First class. The covering letter was from a law firm, Chevalier and Lefevre. And right from the first sentence Trent was curious.