Forgotten (15 page)

“So there was more than one figure?” Saul
questioned.

“
Don’t
know.” I was thankful that Saul didn’t discount the story, as had
the psychiatrist. “But I felt it many times, and after I returned
to Nankari, the figures appeared different.” Saul asked how but I
couldn’t explain with any factual clarity. “I always got the
impression they were well covered.”

Saul rubbed his fingers hard against his
temple.

“I’m not being very helpful.”

“
It’s
okay.”

But I didn’t
feel it was. I had the sudden urge to stretch my stiff, rankled
muscles. I stood and wandered over to the glass doors. Outside
there was a wide, light-colored timber deck edged with a matching
railing. A small butcherbird was skipping along the top of the
railing. It stopped and swung its head, eyeballed me for a brief
moment then flew off into the blue, cloudless horizon. I sighed,
felt some of my tension fly with it.

Saul was
near; I could feel him. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Are you really serious with that
question?”

He dropped his head and grinned. “Sorry.
Guess it’s a lot to take in.”

We stood
there, silent, still, taking in the miraculous scenery. “You have
to understand, Saul,” I eventually whispered, “after… well, after
Simon.”

I glanced at
my ring, wriggled my fingers. The diamond instantly snatched the
bright, inflowing sunlight, causing faint, rainbow colors to
sparkle from it. A recognizable twinge pierced my heart.

“After Simon,” Saul encouraged. There was
much kindness in the way he said it; I left thinking he already
knew about my fiancé.

I
continued.
“I came back to Nankari, and
when I did my head was a little crazy for a while. I didn’t know
what to think, even how to. Sadly, for the most part, I didn’t even
care.” I closed my eyes for a second, taking stock before
confessing the next part. “And, well, as with everything that
causes me pain, I shoved it away. I’m very good at that…
compartmentalizing
.” I said it with great disdain. “It sounds weak, but it
makes managing my life easier.”

He moved in
closer, his earthy scents strengthening. “It’s not weak. It’s just
your mechanism for coping and you’ve certainly had enough cause to
do that.”

I liked what
he said. “How did you know about the watchers?” I asked.

Saul sighed
deeply, hooked his thumbs into the pocket of his light blue jeans.
“Because, there
was
someone watching you at The Local, the night
Alice was shot.”

I felt as if
an earthquake had struck Nankari but I was the only one
experiencing the aftershocks. For a second time, I could’ve dwelled
on just how Saul knew this, but my main concern laid in my next
question. “Do you know who?”

Saul shook
his head. “The person was well concealed, a black leather-like
jacket….”

“…
and a matching black hood
.” My
legs threatened to fail me and I swore. I quickly returned to the
sofa collapsing into its sturdy corner. And there, I thought about
the identically dressed person in the school car park, the same
fateful day as Alice, thought about how I had been correct in my
suspicions of him. I wasn’t sure if I felt good about that or not.
I heard a slow, swoosh next to me, felt the sofa shift.

“How did you know about the hood?” Saul
said.

I knotted my
fingers and then related the car park incident to him. “All this
time,” I concluded, “these watchers weren’t something in my
head.”

“
Definitely
not on that day.”

Why was I
shocked at this discovery? Hadn’t I always believed the watchers
were real? Perhaps it was now the certainty of their existence that
I found so unsettling. “But Papa kept insisting it was just my
imagination.”

“
I find that
odd, Claudia, particularly these days with all the ‘stranger
danger’ stuff.”

Stranger danger?

It then hit
me hard and
fast. And I wondered why it
hadn’t before.

Papa’s incongruent behavior.

His perpetual, almost fearful lectures about
never entering strangers’ cars, his blasé, often-humorous responses
to my own claims of watchful figures. So what did this mean?

If it meant anything at all.

I pushed
onward. “That probably explains Muscle Man’s whacky
behavior.”

“Muscle Man?”

I told Saul
about the overly cocky, flirtatious man at
The Local. A distinctly pained grimace appeared on Saul’s
face. Maybe it was due to my whacky reference.

“
And you
didn’t recognize anyone?”

“No. I feel as if I should’ve now.”

We both
followed with a reflective silence until I ended it. “I assume
there’s more to this recorded chit chat between the Senator and
Colt.”

My
assumption was correct. I
steeled myself for further shocks
as Saul returned to his laptop, sat in his chair and
restarted the recording
. I wasn’t to be
disappointed. Not with Colt accusing Macey of Alice’s death and the
Senator’s rapid denial.

I remained surprisingly composed.

“The man in your car,” Saul said. “Was an
Anthony Iacovelli.”

I had never heard of him and said so.

“
He went by
another name, Patrick Colt.”

The
connection wasn’t lost on me. “I see why you said this is far more
complex than it first seemed. Any idea why he was killed, and why
in my car?”

Saul’s no was absolute.

I coughed out an erratic, zany laugh.
“That’s a relief. I was beginning to think you have some paranormal
power or something. I mean, how do you know all this?”

His smirk was lop-sided. “I have my
means.”

Matty
Galloway came to mind.
He has
the skills,
he had said,
knows the right people.

And I
silently questioned who those
right people
were.

All of a sudden, I rolled my shoulders
downwards in a resigned, exhausted slump.

“We can stop for a while,” Saul said.

As enticing
as the idea was, I shook my head. I wanted answers. A few clicks
later, I heard the familiar tune of the computer shutting down.
Saul flipped close its lid and swung to face me. “There’s something
I’d like us to do, very soon, if possible.”

And he told
me about Alice’s house, situated halfway between Nankari and Saul’s
place, just outside of Nambour. Saul wanted us to go
there.

“
It’s
obvious you were important to her. Maybe if we
dig around a bit, something will jog your memory.”

My memory.

Everything
always came back to that one
thing. I
sighed. Searching someone’s house, particularly a dead person’s,
didn’t exactly press my happy buttons, but I agreed
nonetheless.

A flicker of
light sparked in my mind, sheer, hazy, nothing recognizable but it
glowed with promises, constructive promises of answers, destructive
promises of undesirable changes and painful
disappointments.

Time to grow up, Claudia.

“I need to call my father before we go.”

Saul stood and handed me his phone. He then
left the room. I thumbed the required buttons and waited uneasily
until I heard Papa answer. “It’s me.”

“
Carino,
thank goodness. Are you okay?” His voice was like a renewed breath
of courage, a safety net, one that would always be there for
me.

Time to grow up, Claudia.

“Papa,” I whispered.

“Where are you? I will come and get
you.”

How easy was it to fall into that complete,
trusting comfort, allow Papa to take over and solve all my problems
without any effort on my part, just as he had so many times
before?

Time to grow up, Claudia.

“
No Papa,
you don
’t need to get me. I’m
safe.”

“
Safe?”
Papa’s voice was abnormally loud. “I am the only person who can
keep you safe.”

I sensed my childlike trust ready to
crumble. “Why is that?”

“
Because, I am your Papa,
”
he said with such vehemence, such
finality.

I said nothing, but the constricting pain in
my chest was everything.

“Do you not know what is going on? There was
a man murdered in your car. There are police everywhere. Your
mother and I want you home now.”

Somehow, I
gathered the resources to remain focused. It wasn’t easy. “I’m
sorry, but this is something
I
have to work out.”

“I do not understand, Claudia, work out what
exactly?” I flinched at the clear omission of my pet name. “Is this
something that this Saul Reardon has put into your head? Who is
this man? Why are you with him?”

“Someone I hope can help me.”

“Help you? Your family will help you.”

I paused to
muster up more courage. “I don’t think they can, not this
time.”

His unsteady, un-rhythmical breathing was
deafening to my ears but his voice softened. “Carino, what is
troubling you?”

I took a deep breath. “You are, Papa.”

Silence.

“You knew Alice Polinski.”

More silence.

“
Who was
she? How did she know me? Know us?” There were no denials, no
excuses, only more silence. Cold, burning tears pricked my eyes.
“Papa, why won’t you speak to me, truthfully?”

“I… I… cannot.”

I could tell he was hurting, but it was
small to the hurt that was rapidly consuming me. “I have to go.” He
protested but I ignored him, quickly ending our conversation with a
press of a button.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there. In
time, Saul twisted the phone from my clenched fist. “What
happened?

I was too
talked out to explain. “I’ll tell you on the way to Alice
Polinski’s.”

December 26, 2010

3:12 pm

THE DRIVE
TO
Alice’s home was short but it gave me
time to analyze the man beside me. His open-necked shirt matched
the color of his eyes, further intensifying their remarkable
blueness. The shirt appeared tailored, heightening the broadness of
Saul’s shoulders and the brawny muscles in his arms. I imagined his
long, lean legs, hidden by his jeans were just as sturdy. I
concluded that he worked out often.

“
Are you
okay?” he asked.

I felt my
cheeks redden. I had just been caught checking him out. But how
could I not? The man was undoubtedly attractive. I could almost
hear Mel’s high-pitched voice shrill,
I told you so
.

“I was just thinking what great taste in
clothes you have.” I cursed myself for the ludicrous
explanation.

His eyes twinkled. “I’m glad you
approve.”

From that
point, I decided it best if I kept my focus elsewhere. I grabbed my
bag. Several beads captured the sunlight streaming through the
windscreen causing multi-colored reflections to dance about. It was
quite striking and would’ve been enough to entertain me. But I
needed more. I rummaged through my bag’s many inhabitants until I
discovered what I wanted. “Want a pink musk stick?”

Saul threw me a questioning look.

“My vice.”

“
And what
does this vice do for you?”

“
Oh, just
about everything. Calms my nerves, helps me think, takes away the
bad things, well… almost. Cheaper than happy pills and taste much
better.”

He took one.
“How could I refuse then?”

While
chewing, I scanned the car’s interior, appreciating the delightful
smell of new leather. “My brother, Nate, would have serious car
envy if he saw this. It’s a Wrangler Renegade, isn’t
it?”

Saul rolled a steady hand across the
steering wheel as he took a sharp bend in the road. “That it is.
You know something about cars?”

“
A little.
My three brothers are off-road junkies. I just happen to be their
ears when they’re rambling about their ambitions, particularly
Nate. It’s his eventual goal to own one of these.”

“He has good taste.”

Several more
swings of the wheel and we had apparently arrived. But all I could
make out was endless bushland. Saul parked his Jeep
amongst some inner roadside brush, the car’s
bush muted color melding perfectly. We then continued on foot,
making me wonder if we were doing something not altogether
legal.

Some things may be a slight blurring of the lines,
he had said
.

Perhaps this
was what he had meant
.

We trekked
through the open bushland. I could hear the crunch of the dried out
leaves beneath my feet, the busy buzzing of bees around the yellow
flowering banksias. Tall, buttery trunks of ghost gums gave us
respite from the harsh, biting sun and the unique smell of their
leaves was prolific
, medicinal. I
breathed it in, took strength from its beauty.

Eventually I
spotted a house in the distance, sections of it still concealed by
compact foliage. On closer inspection, I noticed it as one of those
old wooden Queenslanders. It was perched high on a significant rise
of land, giving it a noble presence. A large veranda enclosed it.
We ventured towards the cleared boundary bordering the house and
then stopped.