Exhausted and with every muscle aching, Anya strapped Brown-Eye’s carcass in the back, climbed into her Corolla and instinctively pressed down on her lock, securing all the doors. All she wanted was a bath, a long soak and ten hours’ sleep.
The mobile rang. She closed her eyes and thought about ignoring it, but checked the caller ID, just in case it was important. Elaine. She hadn’t checked in with her secretary all day.
Breathing out, she picked it up. “How are things?”
Ever efficient, Elaine rattled off the routine and then emphasized the priority messages. Dan Brody had asked for another meeting. He could damn well wait, Anya thought. She wasn’t at his beck and call, and no doubt Veronica Slater had spun him some story about their argument at the prison.
Only half-listening, she let her mind wander. Nick Hudson was anxious to get his stuffed dog back. The drive out to the house would take about thirty minutes, maybe more in traffic, but Brown-Eye had already made her car reek, not to mention her office at the SA unit.
“That’s about it,” finished Elaine.
Relieved that everything could wait, Anya said goodnight and headed over to the Willards’ place.
“Brown-Eye, big fella.” Nick greeted his dead dog like he would a best friend.
“Sorry about the timing, but I couldn’t get out here any earlier.”
“My aunt’s in the kitchen, and we’re just watching the box.”
The scene was relaxed and homely. Anya imagined it echoed in millions of homes across the country.
By the fumes, meat was on the menu again, and The Price is Right was the focus of Nick’s attention. On the lounge sat a thick-set woman sorting washing. The abdominal girth could have been fat or pregnancy, but from that position it was difficult to tell. Anya had no intention of taking the risk of asking, When are you due?
“This is Desiree Platt, another old friend from the Bay. She stays sometimes for company,” Nick said. “When her husband’s away working.”
Desiree cupped one hand beneath her bulge, put the other behind her as an anchor, and arched her back to get herself up off the lounge. She was definitely pregnant.
“Hi,” Anya greeted her.
“You must be the doctor Nick’s been telling me all about.”
Nick scuffed the floor with his feet like a schoolboy. “Don’t you have to be somewhere?”
“Yeah, the toilet. This kid’s been using my bladder as a trampoline all afternoon.”
Mrs. Willard came out from the kitchen and wiped her hands on her apron. “Dinner won’t be long. Would you care to join us this time, dear? We’ve got an extra tray.”
Anya sensed she was being set up with Nick, who could just be a rapist and/or murderer. “No thanks, I can’t stay. I have a meeting to go to.”
Mrs. Willard grabbed Anya’s left hand. “No ring. You career women are missing out on the most important things.”
“Come on down,” cried the game-show host.
“How’s the investigation going?” Mrs. Willard asked, releasing her guest’s hand.
Anya thought twice about divulging information concerning the case, but the pleading look in the woman’s eyes made her want to give the mother something, some kind of hope, without giving away too much.
“We found another murder, one that Geoff can’t have committed, that is very similar to those of Eileen Randall and Elizabeth Dorman. It happened when he was in jail.”
Mrs. Willard’s eyes moistened. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll try to see Geoff tomorrow and tell him the good news.”
Anya paused. “The shirt the police took, that you said Geoff had never worn. Was it new?”
“Goodness, no. He couldn’t afford new things, and there are perfectly good clothes at the local op shop.”
“So it came from there?”
Mrs. Willard nodded. “We have to make do. When he came out of prison, he had nothing but a donated pair of trousers and a shirt. They didn’t even fit properly.”
Desiree returned from the bathroom, wiping her hands on the oversized Black Sabbath T-shirt she wore over black leggings. “What’s the good news?”
“The police have got some evidence that Geoff didn’t kill Eileen Randall or that other woman.”
“What?” she said, clutching her belly. “But he did it. He even broke into our place. God knows what he would have done if Nick and Luke hadn’t come in. We all know what he’s like.” Her voice became shrill and she began to hyperventilate. “Oh my God, it’s a contraction.”
Anya couldn’t believe the histrionics. “It’s probably the baby moving.”
“I know you had a scare.” Mrs. Willard led Desiree to the lounge. “But he didn’t hurt you. He wanted somewhere to hide out for a while. Maybe he has changed after all these years.” She straightened out her apron. “I’ll just check the dinner. After that, I’ll help with your folding and we’ll get you home.” She turned to Anya.
“Doctor, would you mind staying with Desiree for a few minutes, to make sure she’s all right?”
In the few days since they had met, Geoff’s mother looked like she had aged years. Nick seemed annoyed and left the room. His aunt followed him to the kitchen, and Desiree calmed down.
Anya wanted to run out the door more than ever, as a crowd of people shouted and made hand movements on the screen.
“Got a boyfriend?” The woman opened her mouth and revealed what looked like a piece of food clinging to a tooth.
Anya felt her face flush and became flustered. “I really just came to drop off Nick’s dog.”
The sound on the TV became louder, with members of the audience shouting and gesturing numbers at the pair on stage.
“Wouldn’t blame you if you were shit-scared of getting involved. Men can be real bastards.” She rubbed her abdomen again and her shirt moved with what was probably a kick. “Lucky I got a good one. We got married once we knew the baby was on its way, before I lost my figure.”
Judging by the size of Desiree’s arms and the broad hips, the figure she referred to was full. The tooth didn’t have food on it, either. It was some kind of crystal embedded in the enamel.
“Congratulations,” Anya managed, backing toward the entrance.
“Nick’s a great bloke,” Desiree continued. “You could do a lot worse. And he’s a great kisser.”
“I’m sure he is,” Anya blurted, wondering why the words came out of her mouth. “I really have to go.”
Desiree propped herself to get up and Anya gestured to stop her.
“I’ll let you out.” The woman smiled and lumbered to the door, which had been deadlocked. As Anya stepped out onto the porch, Desiree said quietly, “From one woman to another, I hope you find someone.” Looking weary, she arched her back and rubbed her belly. “I know this little one’s gonna cause me pain. God knows, it already has with the morning sickness, reflux and backache. And don’t start me on about the hemorrhoids.”
Anya had no intention.
“And from what everyone says, the birth is going to be agony. But I’ve gotta go through it to have this baby.” She rubbed the back of her neck, as though massaging out another sore spot.
“You know, my friends back home used to have a really wise saying. ‘If you can’t feel pain, you can’t feel love.’”
Before Anya could respond, the door clunked shut.