Serenity’s new shop opened a fortnight later. Serenity, Mum and I worked all weekend to stock the shelves, and by the time the store opened on the Monday we were exhausted and looking forward to not having to lug boxes. Gemstones are really heavy in bulk. Despite Serenity taking out a radio ad campaign and emailing her newsletter subscribers, we weren’t expecting it to be a busy day—Monday wasn’t one for high retail turnover. The only reason both Mum and I were rostered on was so I could show her the ropes, and by opening on a Monday she had a few days to get up to speed before late-night shopping on Friday.
Serenity practically glowed as she flipped the sign over on the glass door, humming something unrecognisable under her breath. Mum looked apprehensive, as if she expected a flood of people to pour through the entrance as soon as we opened.
“You’ll be fine,” I murmured to her before saying more loudly, “I still think you should’ve named it Serenity’s New New Age Gifts.”
“It is funny,” Serenity said in a tone of voice that suggested she was humouring me, “but I just want to put the fire behind me.” She ran her gaze over the shelves before nudging a stack of tarot cards on its display holder so that the gorgeous, gold-hued cover art caught the light. “Onward and upward. I’ll be in the back, going over invoices. Call me if you need me.”
We didn’t need her, but that didn’t stop her from popping out to see how we were going every time the bell over the door tinkled. She set a bowl of colourful, wrapped lollies by the register, and we encouraged the few customers we had to take a handful. Mum rang up each sale. By the time lunch came around, she was confident enough with the register that I was able to go out to get us all salad rolls, coffee and a celebratory box of custard tarts. The scent of vanilla and freshly roasted coffee made my mouth water and my stomach growl as I strode back up the shady sidewalk towards Serenity’s.
My grip tightened on the cardboard drink tray, the bag crunching between the fingers of my other hand, when I saw the police car parked in front of the shop. My first thought was of Daniel, and guilt killed my appetite. But surely not. It had been two weeks; the nurse had returned to work rather than turning himself in, and there’d been no sign that any of the staff at Wattle Tree Park had connected his unexpected illness with the assault on the news.
The other cause for concern, Ewan, was still in the mental health unit at the Canberra Hospital … and, even if he hadn’t been, he wasn’t so unstable that he’d set fire to the shop again. Not during the day, at least, while we were in it to stop him. No, it was far more likely that the police had stopped by the shops to go to a café or to get some of the excellent coffee I’d just bought, and that they’d parked out the front of Serenity’s because that had been the only vacant spot.
Telling myself I was being paranoid, I strode up to the shop door, nudging it open with my hip and sliding through.
Constable Nelson stood by the herbal teas. He was in uniform this time. If he was wearing that Scorpio pendant Serenity had spotted, there was no sign of it beneath the shirt’s crisp blue collar.
I glanced at Mum, setting the tray of coffees beside the register. “Yours is on the end,” I murmured, giving her a questioning look and indicating Nelson with a faint tilt of my head. She shrugged back at me. “I’ll be back in a sec,” I said, taking the food to Serenity in the tiny office. I wanted to hide out there; instead, I squared my shoulders and marched into the shopfront, heading over to the police officer. He was scrutinising the back of a packet of tea, a frown puckering his brows. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Maybe,” he said in a distracted tone, peering at the tiny writing. “I’m wondering what you’d recommend for someone who’s having trouble sleeping.”
My eyes rounded and my mouth gaped. I clenched my jaw as I fought to wipe the shock from my face. But Nelson was now studying me intently, and I was sure he’d caught the flare of surprise. I managed to croak out, “Is it for you, or for someone else?”
“Oh, Melaina, hello,” he said, although I didn’t believe for a second that he hadn’t noticed who he was talking to. “Let’s say it’s for me.” Even though his eyes were lined with what could be fatigue, I didn’t believe that either.
I took a breath and stiffened my spine. I wouldn’t let him get to me. “Well, it depends what sort of trouble you’ve been having,” I said. “If you’re having difficulty relaxing before bed, for example, I’d recommend a tea containing chamomile and valerian. This brand—” I brushed a box with a fingertip “—also contains peppermint, which is useful if you’ve got a bit of an upset stomach that’s keeping you awake. These ones have orange blossoms, and this one over here contains apple.”
“What’s the benefit of that?” He didn’t even look at the boxes as I pointed to them.
“It smells nice?” I bit off the words. He didn’t care about the tea. He was after something else. So much for not letting him get to me. “This one over here has lemon balm, lavender and jasmine and may promote good dreams, if you’re having issues with nightmares.”
He regarded me for a moment before turning back to the teas. “What would you recommend for a person who sleeps fine once they are asleep but who has trouble drifting off? Shift-workers, say?” I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could say anything he added, “Like nurses? Or security guards?”
Ice crept over my face as I considered his words. He knows. But how? When Brad and I had gone to Wattle Tree Park, Lien wasn’t the only one I’d given a dose of my sleepy-time magic. There’d been the security guard at the gate outside. I reached almost blindly for the first box of tea I’d described, shoving it into his open hand. “I’d go for this one. Though valerian isn’t recommended if you have liver disease.”
“Thank you for your help,” he said, following me as I scurried back to the register.
Mum saw my harried expression and scowled at the police officer. I tried to hush her with a gesture, but she ignored me. “Shouldn’t you be out arresting criminals? Or building a case against that Ewan man for drugging me and bashing my daughter’s boyfriend on the head?” she asked Nelson. Her tone was light but the paper bag crackled with her sharp movements as she bagged the tea.
“I’m on lunch.” He sounded unruffled as he pulled a credit card out of his wallet. “But it’s funny you should mention Ewan. I went out to see him at the hospital yesterday, and he told me some interesting things.” His gaze slid back to mine, and the cold feeling spread from my face to sheathe the rest of my body, leaving me clammy. I picked up my takeaway coffee; the corrugated cardboard scalded my icy fingers, but I didn’t care. “Did you know Wattle Tree Park has security cameras?” Nelson continued. “Not all over, unfortunately, but they cover the outside perimeter quite well. I gather the management had them installed after a couple of patients with dementia wandered off.”
“That’s why it’s the most expensive nursing home in Canberra,” Mum said brightly, processing Nelson’s payment. But her eyes flashed with fury. “They take good care of their patients. Mostly.”
Nausea churned my stomach, and my mouth went dry. The cameras. I remembered noticing the one above the guard’s outpost that night, but there hadn’t been any way to avoid it. In the intervening months, given nothing had come of it, I’d begun to believe no one had thought to check. I had no doubt now that Nelson, worded up by Ewan, had finally reviewed the footage. What had he seen? The guard leaning forward towards me, and then lowering his face to his arms and beginning to snore?
I jumped when the bell over the door jingled and a second police officer—not one I recognised—walked in. She was holding a plastic bag, and the smell of hot lemongrass and ginger wafted in behind her. “Hey, David, you almost done?” she said, eyeing the brown paper bag with Serenity’s logo on it, probably wondering what her straight-laced colleague could possibly be buying from a hippy shop like ours.
“Yup.” Nelson took the credit card and receipt from Mum with a polite smile. Like it was an afterthought, he took one of my business cards from the little stand beside the register. My fingers twitched with the urge to snatch it off him. “Thank you, ladies. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Have a wonderful afternoon,” Mum trilled. When the door swung shut, she added, “you nosy bastard.”
I leaned against the wall behind the counter, trying to get my thoughts in order. I still felt dizzy from the shock and wanted nothing more than for Nelson to leave me alone, but still… “He’s just doing his job,” I said weakly, taking a deep breath of the steam threading through the hole in the plastic lid covering my coffee. Dissatisfied, I pulled the lid off and took another breath.
“Well, I wish he would do it somewhere else.”
“Me too.” I sighed. “But the person I want to punch in the nose is Ewan. He tipped Nelson off, told him to check the home’s camera footage. At least, that’s what Nelson was implying.” I explained to Mum how Brad and I had gotten into the home that night, and realisation dawned in her eyes, concern on its heels.
“So that’s what he was on about. You think he, what, suspects you used a chemical to subdue the guard?”
“Well, he sure as hell doesn’t believe I used herbal tea,” I said, dropping my voice as the bell rang and a couple of teenage girls in long-skirted private school uniforms poked their heads in, eyes bright with curiosity.
Once they’d chosen their purchases—a book of Wiccan spells and a rose quartz pendant that made me suspect someone was looking to score a date for an end-of-year formal—I slipped out the back to eat my roll and think over my options. Wiping her fingers clean on a serviette, Serenity went out onto the floor to relieve Mum so she could eat too. By the time Mum joined me, I was scrolling through my Facebook page on Serenity’s computer. There was an event invitation from Olivia for her eighteenth birthday party on Saturday. It was being held at her house in one of Canberra’s flashiest suburbs, Red Hill. I wondered whether her mother knew she’d invited us, but shrugged, hitting accept. I’d worry about it later. Then I hunted for Daniel’s name in the list of Belinda’s friends.
“I need to see Ewan,” I said, sending Daniel a friend request. Hopefully the other nurse would be able to give me some suggestions on how best to approach visiting the mental health unit.
“Is that such a good idea? He’ll mention it to Nelson, who’ll be even more suspicious. Going out there might even be what Nelson is after, hinting to you that Ewan warned him.”
I shrugged, logging out of my account and joining Mum. “Nelson’s already suspicious. And it’s possible Ewan picked up his own blight infection while he was helping Ikelos infect people with them. Maybe that’s what’s driving his behaviour?” I didn’t believe it, not really. It seemed more likely that he was pursuing me out of a desire to avenge his deceased Oneiroi master. But I’d given Daniel the benefit of the doubt. Shouldn’t I do the same with Ewan?