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Lexi listened to the conversation when Garima called Tarant on her phone. “My sister is unwell,” he told Leon in a haughty tone. “She won’t return to work until next week. Do you require a medical certificate?”
Nahla popped onto her knee so Lexi didn’t hear Tarant’s reply. Garima hung up and set her phone on the arm of her chair. “All done,” he stated. He threw himself into an armchair and detached his clerical collar. It curled around his hand like a divine embrace. “You didn’t take your painkillers.” He spoke without looking at her.
Lexi drew up her legs and cuddled the cat. Nahla hissed at her enforced squeeze. “No,” she replied, relaxing her grip.
“They’ll help.” His voice rose at the end of the sentence. Like a question.
“I don’t need them.”
Garima shot a covert glance at her. His tone became serious. “You can’t get hooked on paracetamol. Your liver dies first.”
Lexi snorted. “Paracetamol? I figured the doctor prescribed the potent stuff.”
“Just paracetamol and ibuprofen.” He flattened his lower lip. “You’re not Mum, Lex. And nor am I. We’re our own people.”
She nodded. But she made no move to retrieve the blister pack from the kitchen. Instead, she changed the subject away from Lachlan’s aspersions of their mother’s apparent addiction. “Have you spoken to Darlene about how Father Donald died?”
“Don’t tell me!” Garima clapped his hands over his ears like a child. Lexi stared at him. “We’ll discuss it after my police interview. My surprise must appear genuine.”
Lexi exhaled. She watched a presenter’s mouth move on the television. With the sound muted, she appeared unenthusiastic. A motorbike engine purred along the street and Lexi tensed. Every muscle ached. Her mind ran through a series of choreographed scenarios. She pictured her stalker bursting through the rear door, his visor masking his face. Like a horror movie, Rojas replaced him. He advanced on her, his eyes bulging, his square jaw set in harsh lines. Tall and imposing, the police officer had sex appeal. Such a pity he’d remained an emotional teenager. Her stalker dwarfed Rojas.
“Lexi, you’re almost asleep.” Garima stood over her. His gentle hands cupped her face.
He helped her to her bedroom and turned his back while she undressed. She ditched her clothes on the floor and he retrieved the items and folded them. A slender pile grew on the cream armchair.
“I forgot to use my night stick on Rojas,” she said. Her words slurred.
“What?” Garima placed her leather jacket over the arm of the chair. His brow furrowed as he stared at it for a moment. “Oh, don’t suppose you have any cash? I need to fill Jock’s car with gas on the way to confession tomorrow.”
“Wardrobe. Blue shoe box. But it’s probably fake.” Lexi waved a hand in the general direction. A door slid along greased runners and cardboard rattled. She sighed. “It’s illegal to carry a weapon anyway,” she admitted. “And it’s too hard to draw it when someone has their hands around your throat.” Garima murmured something she missed. Her mind presented her with a smorgasbord of other suitable defence weapons. Pepper spray. A taser. She latched onto the taser idea. But would it fit in her pocket? No. Back to the carousel of dangerous goodies. She kept pepper spray in her only handbag.
“What’s this?” Hysteria laced Garima’s baritone. He stood beside the bed, flapping the evidence bag above Lexi’s head. He read it aloud, as though she hadn’t seen it, sealed it in the bag, or hidden it. “‘This is a warning. Tell the priest to forget what he heard! Or else.’ Me?” His voice shook. “Am I the priest?” His eyes widened. Fathomless pupils dilated like black holes in his frightened face. “Or is this why Father Donald died?” he whispered. “Because of a confession?”
“I don’t know.” Lexi groaned as she forced herself to a sitting position. “I found it on my SUV after Pinky and Perky kidnapped me.”
“Kidnapped you?” He whirled on the spot as though expecting Doug and Len to appear. “Where? How? Why?” A low whine entered his voice.
“Don’t feel jealous.” Lexi infused humour into the moment. It fell to the rug. Wasted. She sighed. “Nothing happened. They took me to the book shop and Lachlan poured tea. He waffled on about the seal of confession and suggested you forgot what you’d heard. I told him nothing, caught an Uber back to my car. Someone left the note on my windscreen.”
“But what does it mean?” Garima’s tanned complexion paled to a ghostly white. “What if they intended this warning for Father Donald?”
Lexi wrinkled her nose. The steady thrum of her headache made thought difficult. They’d placed the note on her vehicle. She wouldn’t care about a priest she’d never met. The threat related to Garima.
Lexi pursed her lips and studied her brother. Within the last two days, he’d lost a friend and still faced an interrogation. Father Donald’s resignation drove him back to the vacuum cleaner. The priest’s death had devastated him. But additional fear for his own safety might unpick him entirely. Worry rose like a leviathan in her soul. She couldn’t tell him the truth. “I think it relates to Father Donald,” she conceded. And though it cost her, she jerked her head towards the note. “Take that with you to the police station tomorrow,” she suggested. “Tell them it appeared on my vehicle at Hamilton gardens yesterday.”
“But won’t the detective accuse you of suppressing evidence?” he demanded. The bag rustled in his shaking fingers.
Lexi shook her head. The action hurt. “No, sweetheart. Tell them I didn’t understand what it related to until tonight.
“But I’ll need to break the seal of confession.” Anxiety danced in his eyes.
“No, you won’t.” Lexi reached out and grabbed his trouser leg. The handful of starchy fabric grounded her. “You didn’t take confession, Gari. No one told you anything important. Let the cops go down the track of assuming Father Donald heard something disturbing. He panicked and tried to run. And someone killed him for it.”
“But that is what happened.” Garima rocked on his heels. He appeared utterly bereft, like a tiny boy who’d dropped his ice cream in the sand.
“Then that’s what you tell them.” Lexi kept hold of his trousers, unsure if she could chase him if he ran. Pain bulged her brain until she suspected it might burst through her skull. Logic deserted her. She waited for the cog pieces to click in Garima’s mind. Her grip loosened as exhaustion took over.
“I’ll do that!” Garima’s eyes brightened. “I’ll tell them everything except for what Father Donald revealed from within the seal.” His stance relaxed. “Thanks Lexi. You’re amazing.”
