Turtle Island (14 page)

‘Why?’

Georgina thought back to the drunken night she decided to have
the stud inserted. She had been working on a case in L.A, during
part of her training. She was teamed with an experienced female
investigator and their enquiries had led them to a tattoo and
piercing parlour. She watched a young girl, no more than nineteen
having her stomach pierced. The girl already had her tongue pierced
and was talking quite frankly with the piercing artist about how
her girlfriend got a kick out of the small silver ball. With their
enquiries complete, Georgina thought no more about it until,
celebrating the successful conclusion of the case, she found
herself lying on a chaise lounge having local anaesthetic applied
to her navel. The rest was a blur. She woke the following morning
with a bruised stomach and the beginning of an infection that took
three hundred dollars of drugs to clear. Having suffered so much
for the dammed thing she decided to keep it.

Georgina pulled her vest down. ‘You know, Ray, I really don't
know why. Sometime adults do strange things. Come on, you try
defending, I'll attack?’ She grabbed the ball from his hands and
tried to make a sharp dart around him but Ray was quick and blocked
her attack shot by jumping and parrying the ball with his hand. The
ball bounced once and Ray was on to it, bouncing it and leading it
away from Georgina. He turned to attack, running down the court,
dribbling the ball expertly like a miniature Harlem Globetrotter,
as he drew near, his eyes lit up and he called ‘Hey,
Dad?’

Georgina foolishly turned and within an instant, Ray had
passed her and had a free shot at goal. He steadied himself, aimed
and leapt, launching the ball against the rim board. The ball hit
the rectangle marking and bounced against the hoop, rolled around
the rim and fell through the net. Rick was nowhere to be found. Ray
fell to the floor laughing, celebrating his victory.

‘Hey, that’s not fair.’ It was Georgina’s turn to complain,
though she was laughing as much as the boy.

Jo-Lynn and Korjca watched from the kitchen window. Salad,
vegetables and fruit were washed, sliced, cooked and prepared. Four
huge mounds of fresh steak were lying on a cutting board, waiting
to be cooked on the barbeque.

‘I hope Rick's not too long, this food ain't gonna stay fresh
forever.’

Korjca finished drying her hands, watching Georgina play with
Ray. ‘She's very good.’

‘Yeah.’

‘She's also very good with children, Ray has taken to her very
quickly.’ Korjca knew it had taken her about three weeks to reach
the stage that Georgina had achieved with him in little over an
hour. Three hard weeks of tantrums and cajoling and trying to win
over the barrier that Ray had imposed.

‘I think I should bring them a drink maybe?’

As Jo-Lynn watched Korjca give her son and the detective
sodas, she felt a twinge of sadness that Jordan wasn't out there
with them playing. Jordan's premature death had hit the whole
family with such a jolt that it threatened at one point to
devastate it. Moving away was their salvation, but somewhere left
in Chicago were tiny fragments of family life that could never be
stuck back together.

His hands moved closer, closer. Fingers outstretched, ready to
wrap around her neck. They moved around the base of her neck
feeling the smooth brown skin.

‘JESU...’ Jo-Lynn started to turn around but the fingers
loosened their grip and slid to her collarbone.

‘Hi-ya, babe.’

‘Jesus! Rick you scared the shit outta me.’

Rick laughed. ‘You were miles away. We came into the kitchen
banging an' a crashing around, but you were out there in a world of
your own.’

‘We?’ Jo-Lynn turned to be greeted with a kiss from her
husband. Over his shoulder she could see Leroy standing three feet
away, looking awkward. He waved 'Hello' and smiled.

‘Where's my little man?’

Jo-Lynn nodded out of the window. ‘On the court, playing
basketball with our guest.’

Rick leaned against his wife, peering over her shoulder. He
saw Ray, Korjca and detective Georgina O’Neil, shooting penalties.
‘Hey, Leroy, you gotta see this? A white girl playing
basketball.’

‘Don't mock, Rick. She's good.’ Jo-Lynn informed
them.

All three were leaning forward looking out of the window,
while Georgina aimed a shot at the hoop. The ball glided through
the air and went clean through the basket.

‘Good shot.’ said Leroy, clearly impressed

‘I told you she’s good. She’s been teaching Ray a few moves
too.’

Ray took the ball it was his turn. The kitchen fell silent. As
he lined up, Georgina, tapped his feet. Ray moved his legs,
spreading his feet slightly. She stood behind him coaching him
through the shot, moving his arm down a little and motioning to him
to stretch up before letting go of the ball. As he released the
ball, Georgina looked into the kitchen window at the anxious faces.
She didn’t bother to watch the ball as it fell through the hoop,
just their faces. The cheer that erupted from the kitchen told her
all she needed to know.

Rick, Jo-Lynn and Leroy walked in to the garden cheering and
whooping to join the celebrations.

‘Hey, Agent O’Neil, that was some fine shooting.’ Rick
called.

Georgina nodded.

‘How about a match...Ray, Korjca and my good self against you,
Jo-Lynn and Leroy?’ Georgina asked

‘Are you kidding? We'd wipe the floor with you, it would be
embarrassing.’ Rick replied laughing with Leroy.

‘Don't include me, you know I can't play.’ Jo-Lynn tried to
back away.

‘Don't worry babe, trust me we're gonna win, but we need you
to make up the numbers.’

‘Well, I'm a good loser, I promise you.’ Georgina bounced the
ball at the detective.

‘Okay, but to spice it up the loser gets to be barbeque chef.’
Rick smiled a mischievous grin

‘Hey man, I'd end up killing most of you with my cooking.’
Leroy scoffed but before he could protest further, Georgina's hand
was slapped in Rick's, shaking it hard

‘Deal, I love it when a man cooks.’

‘No way…’ Wesley Timms jaw dropped. ‘No fucking
way.’

He looked over his shoulder. No one could see him, and even if
they could they would not pay any interest. They were all too busy
wrapped up in their own work to notice. Too busy selling
advertising space to major players by the inch, by the yard, by the
foot, on billboards, on TV, on the back of bus tickets, even on a
grain of rice. Wesley once made one person into a permanent walking
advert, when a seventeen year old boy had a well known clothing
brand trademark tattooed on his face to help pay for his university
education. The boy got the money but was promptly thrown out of the
university. Wesley didn’t care. Wesley didn’t care that the boy
took his own life three weeks later when his girlfriend dumped him,
though the advertisers were pretty pissed. The united colours of
grief.

He clicked on another page. This was just too good. He looked
at the page counter 11,185,000 hits since…Wesley quickly looked at
the calendar on his desk…yesterday.

‘No fucking way.’

‘Harley must have suffered for so long...I can't believe she
managed to keep it to herself.’ Narla's hand trembled holding the
cup. She felt dead, hollow. Sitting in the forensics room dressed
only in a white gown, a pair of paper slippers and an elastic
rimmed paper cap, which was cutting into the skin on her forehead.
‘How long before I will know the result?’ Narla handed a nurse a
small vile filled with a sample of her urine.

‘Not long, but we will run other checks to make sure. At the
most three hours.’ The nurse was sympathetic. ‘But it would pay to
be safe and have a further test later in the month.’ She marked the
sample bottle N. O'Connell.

‘What about Harley?’ Narla asked anxiously.

The nurse looked through the glass partition that separated
the two rooms, at the young girl sitting on a trolley bed swinging
her legs.

‘She remarkable, I don't know how she's managing to cope so
well. I'm a little worried that she may be blocking everything out.
A skill she could have developed to help keep the abuse
secret.’

‘Do you think she could be pregnant?’

‘She hasn't begun menstruating yet. As far as we can tell, she
seems to be in the clear. We're testing her just to be on the safe
side though.’

The door to the small room opened and Captain Frusco walked
in. Narla guessed from the look on his face that he wasn’t about to
impart good news.

‘I take it you haven’t found Charles yet?’

Norman Frusco shook his head. ‘Not a sign of him yet but
events have just turned again.’

Narla could feel the pit of her stomach turn. ‘What is
it?’

‘Harley’s teacher, Karen Fuller failed to return home last
night. Charles credit card was used last night at Palacs, a
restaurant in Campbelltown. We checked and he was with a woman
answering her description. Her friend rang in early this morning to
report her missing. At the time she was only six or so hours
overdue, the desk sergeant figured it was some sort of domestic and
told her to give it another couple of hours. Needless to say she
hasn’t shown.’

‘It’s too much of a coincidence. Do you think they could be
together?’

‘I think we have to assume something along those lines Mrs
Fleisher.’

Narla’s put her cup down and gripped the chair she was sitting
on for support.

‘O’Connell, please use my maiden name…I am no longer his
wife.’ She stood and ran to the sink in the corner of the room. ‘I
think I’m gonna be sick.’ Her stomach retched but nothing other
than coffee and phlegm escaped. Frusco steadied her, supporting her
weight. Between gasps Narla fumbled for reason. ‘You think that
Charles is this guy the TV are talking about?’

‘It’s too early to say.’ Frusco guided Narla back to her
seat.

‘I can’t believe it.’ She shivered as the thought of him
pawing over her daughter’s body fought its way through her
sub-conscious. ‘Poor Harley.’ Narla looked through the glass
partition at her. Harley waved back

‘We have a team of investigators who are going to find him
Mrs…Miss O’Connell.” Frusco reassured Narla hoping the words didn’t
ring too hollow. First though, he had to find his team of
investigators.

The sound of Georgina’s phone ringing broke her concentration,
she was determined to score from the three penalty shots she had.
Leroy had blatantly fouled her, pushing her from a good scoring
chance. The game had become competitive, the testosterone levels
rising with the heat and the deficit of score against Rick, Leroy
and Jo-Lynn’s team. They were six points down; scoring these three
penalties would put the game almost beyond their reach with only
one-minute left to play. Georgina had rolled over on the hot
hardcore surface, grazing her knee. As she stood in the penalty ‘D’
she could feel a trickle of blood run down her shin. Leroy was
mortified. His charge, while illegal was only meant to have been a
playful knock to unbalance her. He had been ‘booed off’ and was
sitting out a penalty suspension in the sin bin, a wooden bench
seat erected with a bench and umbrella for the purposes of eating
the fare that followed the game. The phone inside the house started
to ring, so did Georgina’s mobile. The detectives looked at each
other, they knew something was breaking. Georgina gave the ball to
Ray.

‘You better shoot the penalties, champ.’

The boy looked bemused.

‘Go on, I’ll be watching from the bleachers.’ Georgina
explained. She handed him the ball and ran to her phone, Leroy had
already disappeared inside the house to answer the Montoya’s
phone.

Georgina sat down on the garden seat, opened her phone. Ray
ran over to her.

‘Remember what I showed you, don't be afraid of the hoop and
don't be afraid of missing.’

‘Thanks for coming today, Miss Georgina. It's the first time
I've managed to play with dad since, since…I don't know when.’
Ray’s voice had a sadness that children of his age shouldn't
know.

‘Well, you show him how good you are. Go on champ, I'll be
rooting from here.’

He leaned forward and hugged her, before running back onto the
court.

She watched Ray, while the case developments unfolded through
the ether into her ear.

Three out of three penalties went in, much to the delight of
everyone including Rick, even though it meant he lost the game.
Korjca hugged Ray. Then he was smothered with kisses from his
mother, much to his disdain as it encroached his street cred.
Thankfully none of his friends were there to witness such an
outpouring of emotion but he didn’t complain. Secretly, he loved
being cuddled, enjoying the security of his mother’s embrace. She
always smelled nice and her skin was so soft. He smiled.