Little Secrets Page 12

  Rose knocked and, almost instantly, the door pulled open.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, Lucie,” Rose said. “Long time.”

  Lucie Hoffman shrugged. “I guess. You want to talk about the doll, right?”

  Rose nodded and Lucie turned and walked in, leaving the door open for them. Mia hesitated, looking as awkward as Rose felt.

  Rose stepped inside, and Mia followed. She went into the lounge room and sat on the sofa, noticing that it still smelled like cigarettes in here, like it always had. Lucie sat on one of the chairs, her head slumped forward. Looking down at the carpeted floor, Rose couldn’t help but look for the wine stain. Almost ten years ago, when this was still Lucie’s mum’s house, she’d lain in the middle of this lounge room. Her mouth open, she’d tried to swallow, almost choking from laughing, as Lucie stood above her, pouring cheap boxed wine into her mouth. It had gone everywhere.

  “Why is it that people always give you tea when something bad happens?” Lucie asked. “You could probably fry an egg on the footpath outside, it’s so hot. The last thing I want to drink is tea.”

  Rose shrugged. “Dunno.”

  “How are you?” Mia asked. “I know not good today, but in general. What’s been happening?”

  “Nothing much,” Lucie said. “You?”

  “Um, nothing, I guess.” She looked around, and Rose knew she was about to make this awkward. “I’m sorry I didn’t, you know, try harder to get in touch when you got back.”

  Lucie didn’t seem to care. “It’s not like I made an effort either. It had been too long.”

  An awkward silence filled the room.

  Rose decided to just dive straight into it. “How is Nadine dealing with everything this morning?”

  “She’s okay. Doesn’t really understand.”

  “You read my article, right?”

  Lucie nodded.

  “Then you know that I’m trying to give a voice to the people of this town, to stop the police hiding information.”

  Lucie snorted, “Still as full of shit as ever.”

  “It’s true!” Rose said, but she couldn’t help but smile. She had forgotten how much she liked Lucie’s dry way of telling things like they were.

  “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

  “So how’d it go with the cops?”

  “Fine. I think they were trying to find a connection between the girls or something.”

  “Did they find one?”

  “Don’t think so. Didn’t tell me if they had.”

  “So, Nadine doesn’t know the other girls?” Rose found this hard to believe. The town was small enough that you always knew the people around your age.

  Lucie shrugged. “Nadine is friends with the Hanes’ kid. Lily. They take her along with them to church sometimes when I can’t be bothered.”

  “And the Rileys live just down the street—is she friends with them?”

  Lucie just shrugged. “She hangs around with their daughter at school sometimes, and she used to love playing with Ben at church.”

  “Does she go around there?” Mia piped in.

  “No,” Lucie said.

  “Why not?”

  She didn’t answer, but looked at Rose carefully. “Why don’t you ask me the question you really want to know, Rose?”

  “What’s that?”

  Lucie looked at her, raising her eyebrows just slightly.

  “Okay, fine,” Rose said. “Why’d you come back?”

  “Rose!” Mia said, but Lucie waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t have to be the peacekeeper anymore. I think we’ve grown out of that.”

  “Well, you guys would always argue!” Mia snapped. Rose and Lucie smiled at each other. In that moment, they really could have been sixteen again.

  “You think leaving here will fix everything,” Lucie began, looking at Rose only, “but trust me, it doesn’t. The city can be a shitty place. I was working a job I hated, and everything just felt so pointless. No one gave a crap about me. One day, I wrenched my neck and fainted on the street. People just stepped over me. I was seeing this guy who didn’t even like me that much, and I got pregnant.”

  “You always said you didn’t want to have kids,” Rose interrupted. That was one thing they had always agreed on.

  “Yeah, well. I guess it just made me feel like I had a purpose again, like there was a reason I existed. So I came back here. I don’t regret it.”

  “That’s good,” Mia said. “I’m glad things worked out.”

  Rose didn’t say anything. It didn’t make sense to her.

  “It might have been years since I last spent time with you, but I know what you’re thinking, Rose,” Lucie said. “That’s the thing about you—you always think you know better than everyone around you, but you don’t. If you want to be a journalist you need to start listening.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. Lucie was just saying that because she had given up.

  She tried to get more out of Lucie, but it was pointless. Lucie didn’t have anything interesting to say. So Rose shut her notebook and said they had to get going. On their way out, Nadine appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “’Bye, ’bye!” she called, waving at them and grinning.

  “’Bye!” Mia waved back, then cooed “So cute!” when the door closed behind them.

  “Total waste of time,” said Rose.

  “You think? I thought it was great to see her. I’m glad she’s happy.”

  “Yeah. I guess. Did you think it was weird that she didn’t want to let her kid play at the Rileys’ house?”

  “Not really,” Mia said. “After all that’s happened she probably just wants to give them space.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Did she get to you?” Mia said, getting into the car and then leaning across the seats to unlock the passenger-side door.

  “No!” she said, getting in, then, “You know where we have to go next, right?”

  “Oh, God. Don’t say the Rileys.” Mia started the ignition, and the radio blared. She turned the volume down as she pulled out from the curb. “It’ll be way too intense.”

  “Exactly. Mr. Riley was so mad with Frank. He’ll definitely have some things he wants to say on the record.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll be so horrible. That poor family lost everything, and now they have to deal with all this crap.”

  “Almost feels like someone is targeting them,” Rose said, already thinking hard, already trying to find a reason why.

  “Maybe,” Mia said, stopping at the lights, even though there was no other traffic on the road, “or maybe they just have the worst luck ever.”

  “I want to find out.”

  Mia didn’t say anything. But her mouth was closed tightly. Rose knew that meant she disapproved.

  “What do you want to do now?” Mia asked, changing the subject.

  “I’m going to go look at rentals at the council building,” she told her.

  “How much longer have you got at home?”

  “At least a week or so, I’d say,” she lied.

  “Do you want me to come?” Mia looked worried.

  “Nah, that’s okay. I’m fine, really. I’ll see you at work.”

  She said goodbye to Mia and hopped out of the car in front of the council building. Depressing as it was, she was fairly sure she wouldn’t get caught sleeping at the tavern as long as she was careful at night and kept away during the day. It had been a strange experience. This morning, she had jerked awake, not knowing where the hell she was. It had taken a full two seconds for the familiarity of the room to hit her. The cracked nightstand, the broken lamp, the fan whirling slowly above her head. The memories had come slithering back to her. The rejection, her mother, agreeing to go out with Frank. What a
mess.

  As she walked she checked her email. Nothing. She hadn’t had any bites from any of the jobs she’d applied to in the city. It wasn’t really how she wanted to do it. Her dream was always that she’d go to the city because she’d got a journalist job there, but right now she’d take anything she could get as long as it meant she could move. When she got to the city, it would be nothing like it was for Lucie. She didn’t need to get knocked up to have a purpose.

  She was sure if she could just find a new angle on the dolls that the Star might give her another chance. Lucie hadn’t given her anything to go with; the interview with her had been as pointless as the one with the Hanes. She needed more. Something big. If she solved it, if she was the one who found out who was behind it, that’d definitely do it. They’d probably give her a job on the spot if she could do that. Luckily, she was pretty sure now that she did know who was behind it. Will. There was something about him, something weird that she couldn’t put her finger on. Somehow, every time she was with him, she felt angry. There must be a reason for that. Maybe it was her journalistic instinct kicking in.

  When she got to the council building she went straight up the stairs. She didn’t even pause to enjoy the air-conditioning. Everything with Rob had distracted her from what she knew: that Will was involved.

  Luckily, there was still no one at the records office. It was so silent in there that she could hear the faint hum of the air-con, though the circulation of air wasn’t strong enough to blow out the smell of decomposing paper. Sidling through the narrow gap on the side of the desk, she went over to where Will had been standing. There was a wall of filing cabinets. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember which one he had been in front of, which drawer had been open. It had been the third cabinet, she remembered, the second drawer down. She could see him now, that patronizing expression as he looked up at her. She went straight over and pulled the drawer open with a metallic squeal.

  Inside, filed alphabetically, were school enrollment records. Rose pulled a sheet of paper out. Listed on it was the name of a child, and underneath were her parents’ names and their address. In the drawer were over a hundred sheets, each with the information of a child who had enrolled in the primary school. She had him.

  * * *

  Marching in through the back of the tavern, she knocked on Will’s door. Standing there, arms crossed, she couldn’t wait to confront him. Her phone was in her pocket, recording. He just had to say something incriminating. Then she could print it. She’d take it to Frank as well, of course, but it would have been her who had the scoop.

  There was no answer. She knocked again. Nothing. But she heard the sound of someone moving around at the bar. He must be in there. Walking toward the sound, she began to worry that this wasn’t her greatest idea. Confronting someone about possible criminal activity, especially the sort she was accusing him of, probably wasn’t something she should do when there was no one else around.

  Looking around the corner, she heard something smash. She jumped backward. There was another smashing sound, a loud tinny jangle. The second time, she recognized it.

  “Hi,” she said, walking into the kitchen, relieved.

  “You’re here early,” Jean said, throwing another handful of cutlery into the dishwasher.

  “Am I?” she asked, looking around.

  There he was, sitting alone at a table, reading his book.

  “Guess I’ll just sit down until my shift starts,” she said.

  Jean followed her gaze to Will, then smiled. “Suit yourself.”

  Rose walked toward Will. Now Jean was here, she didn’t have to be so careful. She turned before she reached him to check her phone. It was still recording.

  “Hi,” she said and sat down at his table. He looked up at her quizzically. He had his reading glasses on and was drinking a glass of red wine.

  “Where did Jean find that?” she asked, indicating the wine.

  “The bottle did look a bit dusty,” he said, then went back to reading. He was ignoring her, actually ignoring her.

  “No one here orders wine,” she said.

  He didn’t even look up.

  “So where’s your family?” she asked, leaning forward.

  That got his attention. Will folded the corner of his page and set the book down in front of him. She noticed how long his fingers were. Piano player’s hands. He leaned back in his chair and smiled.

  “You always have the strangest questions for me.”

  “Mia said you were here visiting family, but I haven’t seen you with any,” she pushed on.

  “Well, if Mia said it, it must be true.”

  “Is it true?”

  “That I’m here to see family? Yes.”

  “Then why are you being so elusive about it?”

  “Because it isn’t any of your business.”

  This was not getting her anywhere. She’d have to warm up to it, let him get comfortable.

  “How about you tell me what you do for work? You know what I do.”

  He shook his head incredulously. “Why do you care?”

  She shrugged one shoulder, just an inch, and smiled. “Maybe I’m just interested.”

  Flirting. She should have thought about it earlier. He took her in, unsure.

  “I’m a graphic designer,” he said.

  “Really?” She’d never met anyone with a job like that.

  He nodded. “Yes, really.”

  “God, why do you have to be so patronizing!” she said, before she could stop herself. But, surprisingly, he laughed.

  “I’m not patronizing you, Rose. You’re just asking me dumb questions.”

  “Fine! I have a question for you. Why are you looking up kids’ school records?”

  The smile disappeared from his face.

  “Don’t have a smart-ass comeback for that, do you.”

  “No,” he said, “I don’t. But I’m still not sure why you care what I’m doing.”

  “I don’t care what you’re doing, unless it’s hurting people.”

  “What?” he said, really taken aback now. “How am I hurting people?”

  She stared at him, really looked into his eyes, her heart in her mouth. She said, “I know exactly what you’re up to. I just want your side of the story.”

  His eyes darted away. She had him. He stood, took the wine off the table. “If that’s true,” he said, “then you should know it’s absolutely none of your business. You need to back off.”

  He leaned down, so his face was close to hers, and for an instant, crazily, she thought he might be about to kiss her.

  “Understand? Stay out of it.”

  Then he was gone. Leaving her sitting alone in the bar, her heart hammering, until the front door opened, and Mia appeared.

  “You’re early!” she said.

  17

  The next day, when three o’clock swung around, Rose was waiting by the school gates. She always liked these seconds just before the bell rang—where the school yard was silent, the play equipment empty except for a lost hat and forgotten lunch box, and you could smell the dried-out grass on the oval. She leaned against the wire gate, letting the edges imprint patterns on her forearm.

  The bell rang, and instantly, everything changed. There were yells and shouts as the tiny people exploded from the building. It was crazy to think that she’d gone to this school once. She had been one of those tiny people. She spotted Laura before Laura saw her. Her sister was walking with a group of other little girls, all swinging their backpacks and giggling. Then Laura looked up and caught sight of her. There was nothing like seeing her little face light up, to have her run toward Rose and charge her with a hug that almost pushed her off her feet, to make Rose forget whatever was making her feel like shit.

  “I was thinking
maybe we’d go to the library?” she said when she caught her balance. Laura grinned up at her, her chin pressing into Rose’s stomach a little too hard.

  “Just us? Or do Scott and Sophie have to come too?”

  Rose looked around and saw the two of them already on their way home, mucking around and not even noticing Laura wasn’t behind them.

  “Just us!”

  Near where Scott and Sophie were walking, she noticed someone who shouldn’t have been there. He stood out. A man in a sea of mothers. It took half a second before she recognized him; she was slowed by the improbability of him being there at all. Will. When she’d sneaked out of the tavern she was sure he had still been in his room, but there he was, standing next to the footpath as the kids barged their way past him. He was looking around, at the kids and their mothers, intently. He didn’t appear to even see Rose, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d followed her.

  Journalist Stalked by Graphic Designer. It didn’t sound right. He wasn’t here for her. She didn’t think he was a predator; he couldn’t be. But why else would he leave the dolls? And, more important, how could she prove it?

  Laura was jerking her hand. “Come on, come on,” she was saying, trying to pull Rose toward Union Street.

  Rose had felt guilty about being so tactless with Will. Now she only wished she had pushed harder.

  “Rose!” yelled Laura, and he looked up. Locked eyes with her. He nodded to her, not embarrassed or caught out, just nodded at her and looked away.

  * * *

  As they strolled toward the library, Laura kept looking up and smiling at her. They held hands and walked slowly, Laura talking in a loop about some kid at school, Rose barely listening because she was thinking about Will.

  “Boo!”

  Something jumped out at her and Laura, and they both gasped. It was one of those goddamn paper-plate kids.

  “Go away! You’re so annoying!” Laura yelled.

  They ran away fast, giggling. The one who had yelled out at them looked back, and Rose saw his mask. This one had been colored in blue, with big orange eyebrows above the circular eye holes. Creepy. The kid looked about ten.