Pip glanced around and realised it was getting dark. She’d made slight progress on the book, compiling the notes she wanted to expand on to create a chapter, so she was feeling somewhat positive about the afternoon’s work for a change as she went through the daily ritual of closing the curtains and checking the windows were all locked. It was a little later than she normally began to lock up—darkness had already descended. As she looked out through the window she could no longer see the trees along the far boundary fence, and the light from the kitchen spilled out across the lawn casting a dull yellow glow across the dry ground.
An unease settled in the pit of her stomach at the thought of just how secluded the little house was. At home, there were neighbours and streetlights and the constant sound of passing traffic—out here, there was nothing. She didn’t mind it through the daylight hours—she liked the quiet—but at night, it was just so dark. There wasn’t even any moonlight this evening, which made it even blacker. Logically she knew that there was nothing out there in the dark that wasn’t out there in the daylight—it was simply hidden. But it was the hidden things that were the problem. Pip pulled the curtains shut and turned away. You’re fine. There’s nothing out there that’s going to hurt you. You’re safe here. That was the mantra she’d been using since she’d arrived, and it usually worked, but tonight it took a lot longer to restore her calm.
She gave up on getting any more writing done tonight—the last thing she needed was to be consumed with Lenny bloody Knight while she was so jumpy. Her mind briefly went to the make-up bag in the bathroom and the bottle of prescription medication inside, but she forced the thought away. Her doctor had given her the tablets to take if she needed them, but she didn’t like the way they made her feel—she liked to be in control and she didn’t feel that way when she took them.
Those first few weeks after her attack had gone by in a blur. She’d been in hospital for close to a week and then stayed with her parents until the worst of her injuries had healed. When she thought back to that time, all she really remembered was the utter vulnerability she’d been submerged in. She’d felt as though she was drowning. She never wanted to feel like that again—powerless, weak. She’d been determined to fight back, and she had by facing Lenny Knight in court.
He’d threatened her when she began digging around in the early days, then attempted to bribe her, and when that didn’t work, he’d tried to have her killed and she still hadn’t backed down. Despite facing him in court, looking him in the eye when she gave her testimony, there wasn’t the magical return of her earlier confidence. She was still trying to put back all the pieces he broke.
Pip’s eyes shot open, her heart beating hard as she tried to work out what had woken her. A creak of timber boards outside on the verandah sounded, and her body went rigid, her senses instantly tuned in to every tiny sound and movement. For a long moment she waited, listening, then just as she was ready to relax, another creak, louder than the last one, made her sit upright and reach for her phone. Taking it with her, she crouched behind her bedroom door, fingers fumbling as she turned it on, the greenish glow from the screen lighting up the room as she found the keypad and dialled triple zero.
She crept along the hallway as she waited for the call to connect, her heart pounding painfully through her chest.
‘Triple zero, what’s your emergency?’ a female voice came over the line.
‘I think someone’s outside my house,’ she whispered in a low tone.
‘Can you see anyone?’
‘I haven’t looked. But I heard footsteps.’
‘Are your doors locked?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is there anyone else in the house with you?’
‘No. It’s just me.’
‘Okay, I’ve got your location and I’ve put in a call to the police. Someone will be out there shortly.’
Pip’s eyes darted around the dark room, every shadow making her heart rate increase. Another creak from outside suddenly spurred her into action and she moved swiftly to the light switch and flicked it on, lighting up the outside porch. There was a thud followed by a crash and Pip let out a scream, sinking to the floor and covering her head with her arms as her whole body shook.
She had no idea how long she sat there for, but it was long enough for her body to feel stiff and sore. The sound of an engine approaching and a car door opening and closing made her lift her head and listen intently. Heavy boots echoed on the step outside before a loud knock made her leap to her feet and stare wide-eyed at the front door.
‘Pip, it’s Erik Nielsen.’
Pip let out a long, shaky breath as she reached for the doorknob, slowly opening it to peep out.
‘We got a call for a disturbance. Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ she said, having to clear her throat. Her voice sounded hoarse and scratchy. ‘I’m sorry to get you out here like this,’ she said. Now that she had someone with her, the earlier fear had begun to ebb away, leaving her feeling a little stupid.
‘No worries. What happened?’
Daylight had begun to lighten the dark sky and she could just make out the silhouette of trees across the paddock. ‘I heard something outside … on the verandah.’ Pip stopped then pushed the screen door open wider to step outside. One of her uncle’s tin milk cans from the shelf under the window lay on its side on the wooden boards. ‘When I turned on the light, they ran away and knocked that over,’ she said, nodding towards the can.
‘They? As in more than one? Did you get a look at them?’ he asked, instantly alert and looking around.
‘Not exactly,’ she said, then gave a small grimace when he looked back at her. ‘I didn’t actually see anyone, and I don’t really know why I said they—it could have just been one. I could just hear someone out on the verandah … the boards were squeaking.’
‘It’s an old house, Pip,’ he said, his demeanour seeming to relax slightly. ‘They’re full of creaks and groans.’ He moved across to the fallen can, inspecting the immediate area around it before sitting it upright. ‘Could have been a possum nosing about up here,’ he said, putting the can back on the shelf.
‘Surely a possum wouldn’t have been heavy enough to make the boards squeak?’
‘You’d be surprised. They can grow pretty big around here. But I’ll take a look around and see if I can find anything, just to be sure.’
‘Thanks,’ Pip said, managing a slight smile as she watched him leave the front verandah and walk around the side of the house. She closed the door and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. As she opened the tin and took out the scoop, she noticed her hands were not quite steady, and she forced herself to calm down. Erik was most likely right. It could have been an animal snooping about that got a fright when the light came on, only … She gave a small, frustrated huff. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that she’d heard footsteps … the human kind, not tiny possum ones.
‘Hello?’ she heard Erik call as he opened the front door a few moments later.
‘In the kitchen,’ she called back, taking down two mugs.
‘There’s no sign of anything out of place around the house. I couldn’t find any footprints or damage to any of the windows. Thanks,’ he said, accepting the mug she handed him. ‘I reckon it was just a possum or maybe a stray cat.’
‘Sorry to get you out here at this stupid hour. I feel like an idiot now.’ Pip winced and tucked her hair behind her ear.
‘Not a problem, all part of the service,’ he said, taking a sip of his coffee. ‘It’s understandable you’d be a bit jumpy.’ He held her startled glance before adding, ‘After the assault and all.’
Pip eyed him silently as she drank from her mug, concentrating hard on keeping her hand steady. She wasn’t sure she liked that he knew about her attack, though it had made the news at the time, mainly due to the high-profile case. ‘It’s over and done with now.’
‘I guess it goes hand in hand with the job? I mean, you guys dig up a lot of dirt on a lot of people—it’s bound to come back on you at some point.’
‘Occasionally.’
‘So why do you do it? I mean, is it worth it? The threats and, in your case, almost getting killed?’
She tried not to flinch at his words but it was hard not to. ‘I do it because, like you, I want justice. If someone’s doing something wrong or abusing their power, they shouldn’t get away with it. And yes, I guess it is worth it when you know you’ve helped uncover something that can lead to that person being put away.’
‘But it’s not your job. It should be up to the police to investigate,’ he pointed out.
Pip shrugged. ‘You guys don’t have the manpower to investigate every single lead that comes up. That’s where we come in. We can put the time in and get answers in ways police often can’t.’
‘There’s usually a reason police can’t do anything—it’s called the law. I just think sometimes journalists think they’re above the rules we have to play by. It’s dangerous.’
His high-handed tone irritated her. ‘It’s a huge investment, timewise, so we don’t go after someone if there’s not a good reason. You can’t tell me that as a police officer you don’t come across people you know are guilty but can’t do anything, because you just don’t have the evidence you need to warrant going after them?’
‘Sure. Happens all the time. Only when we do find the evidence—and usually, we will eventually,’ he added, his tone clipped, ‘we don’t go splashing it all over the news. It’s our job to catch criminals. You guys turn it into a three-ring circus.’
‘It’s our job to keep the public informed,’ she threw back at him. ‘It works both ways. The criminals also have the protection of being in the public eye. No one wants to go back to the bad old days when police used to wield their own justice,’ she said. ‘This way, everything’s out in the open.’
‘You think all police are corrupt?’ he asked stiffly.
‘Of course not,’ she said, frowning slightly. ‘I never said that. I said in the past. A lot of things were different back then.’
‘I just don’t get why you’d want to stir up trouble and risk your safety to do it. Surely the pay’s not that good?’
‘Nope. I guess it’s just who I am,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I don’t like watching bullies hurt other people, and it doesn’t matter whether that bully happens to be a politician, a plumber or a crooked cop.’
‘As long as you get a story out of it,’ he added, and there was a decidedly mocking edge to the statement. But before she could respond, he glanced at his watch then placed the empty cup on the bench beside him. ‘Thanks for the coffee. I better get moving.’
His abruptness momentarily threw her off balance and she found herself scrambling to catch up. ‘I’m sorry I dragged you all the way out here for nothing,’ she said, standing up to follow him.
‘Just doing my job,’ he shot back, still sounding a little annoyed.
‘Look, Erik,’ she said, waiting until he turned to face her, ‘if anything I’ve said has offended you, I didn’t mean it to. My comments weren’t directed at you,’ she said, still confused by his attitude.
For a moment his expression remained aloof before he gave a quick shake of his head. ‘No, I’m the one who should be sorry. It’s been a long night.’
‘Made longer by an early-morning call-out,’ she added dryly.
‘It’s all good. Better to be safe than sorry. I’ll see you around.’
Pip walked the policeman out and waved. Closing the front door, she rested her head against it and let out a small groan.
She couldn’t go through this again. Not long after she moved back into her apartment after the attack, she’d called the police out on a couple of occasions when she was sure there was someone trying to break in through the night. She’d been too embarrassed to call any of her family or even Lexi; she couldn’t, not after they’d all been so worried and thought it had been too early for her to return to her own place alone.
The police had politely suggested installing a state-of-the-art security system, increasing the cameras and locks she’d already had installed before moving back in, which she did, and eventually her panic-calling days ended.
Yet here she was now, calling the police the first time she heard a bump in the night—they’d think she was crazy, and she definitely didn’t need to be making a name for herself among the locals as some pathetic city-sider who jumped at possums on her verandah at night.
Maybe she’d look for some of those trail cameras used for checking what kind of animals came past at night. If she set them up on the verandah, at least she could see if there really was a possum problem around the place, or something more … well, maybe she just wouldn’t think about what else might be out there right now.
‘Hey,’ Pip said as she answered the phone later that day.
‘I hope I’m interrupting a steady flow of words,’ Lexi’s hopeful tone greeted her.
‘I wouldn’t quite call it steady,’ Pip said.
‘Should I call back later? I just had a few minutes before my next meeting.’
‘No, it’s fine. I was just about to get up and make a coffee anyway.’ She’d lost count of how many she’d had already—and none of them seemed to be clearing away the fog of her interrupted sleep and early morning.
‘How’s country life going?’
‘Fine. Once I get used to all the weird noises and would-be criminal possums,’ she answered before filling her friend in on her eventful morning.
‘I’m glad you called the police,’ Lexi said, sounding far more serious than usual.
‘I wish I hadn’t,’ Pip groaned. ‘It was so embarrassing. I’m sure he thinks I’m an idiot.’
‘Better to be thought an idiot than not call and end up … well, you know,’ Lexi said awkwardly.
‘I suppose.’
‘Did you make an appointment with a counsellor?’ Lexi asked.
‘No, I’ve been a little sidetracked with police scouring all over the place lately.’
‘That was weeks ago. You know you’ve just been putting it off. And after last night, I think you should seriously think about doing it. Talking to someone might help put your mind to rest.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ She pressed the button on the coffee machine and watched the creamy flow of dark liquid fill the cup, breathing in the heady scent of the strong African coffee. ‘I was asked to look into the story in connection with the bones they found,’ Pip threw in, hoping to distract her friend from pushing her on the counselling issue.
‘By whom?’
‘Uncle Nev’s neighbour. Apparently, she knew the husband of the woman whose remains they found in the dam. He used to own this property. She asked me to look into it.’
‘So? Are you going to?’
Pip took a sip of her coffee before answering. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I have a book to write.’
‘You always have multiple stories on the go. This one sounds interesting.’
‘It is,’ she said. ‘It has it all: love, drama, a crime of passion, mystery.’
‘Then find the time to write it.’
‘Time is not on my side at the moment.’
There was a notable silence on the other end of the line and Pip found herself rolling her eyes. Lexi was her best friend and she loved the woman dearly, but she hated when she did this silent-treatment thing. It only drove her mad because her friend knew her so well and could push her buttons without even trying. It was Lexi’s way of calling her out on something. ‘I don’t care what you think—I don’t have the time,’ Pip said doggedly.
‘I didn’t say anything,’ Lexi said, and Pip heard a smug smile in her tone. ‘I certainly didn’t point out that if something was important you’d find a way to do it.’
‘Nope, you didn’t say any of that,’ Pip agreed.
‘I’ve got to go. I’ll give you a call tonight. Get back to that writing.’
‘Talk soon,’ Pip said, hoping she didn’t sound as unenthusiastic as she felt. As she headed back towards the table, she suddenly made a detour, pushing open the screen door and breathing in the hot, sweet smell of early summer. In the far distance she saw the wavy dance of a mirage, the heat hovering just above the dry, parched earth, making it feel even hotter than it was. The low, desolate cry of a crow sent a prickle of unease across her shoulder blades, and she held her coffee mug a little tighter, drawing in its warmth.