The front door of Unit Three was closed and Wendy didn’t have to try and get close enough to test the handle.
‘It’s locked!’ someone shouted. ‘We’ve already tried. Get back! It’s too—’
She couldn’t get close enough anyway. The shout was obliterated by the sound of overheated glass exploding from the window-frames of the unit. A nurse Wendy vaguely recognised as a permanent night staff member pulled her arm urgently.
‘Move back…It’s too late to do anything.’
Staff and the more mobile of Coronation Hospital’s patients were gathering at the scene. Sam’s wife, from Unit Two, was standing in her nightdress, holding a wailing baby. A toddler clutched at her knees, also crying. As Wendy staggered back from the heat she saw figures emerging from Unit Four, carrying Brad—the tetraplegic man who was staying in there with his wife. The doors to Units One and Five stood open, advertising the successful evacuation of the occupants. Wendy was pushed further back into the crowd as first one, then another fire truck arrived.
Heavily uniformed personnel were now in charge. Flashing lights of emergency vehicles competed with the flames to illuminate the scene. The noise level rose steadily with shouted orders and the sound of pumps and other equipment starting up, but Wendy could still hear the wail of frightened children and the hubbub of horrified conversation all around her.
‘I couldn’t hear the alarm!’
‘Is that tetraplegic guy having trouble breathing?’
‘He’s got lungs full of smoke—it’s no wonder.’
Wendy knew she should move and assist John and Peter, who were treating Brad, but her feet seemed rooted to the ground.
‘What about the unit where the fire started?’ someone nearby asked. ‘Was anybody in there?’
‘Yeah. They couldn’t get him out.’
‘Poor bastard!’
Wendy stepped back. She didn’t want to listen to anybody. She didn’t want to be part of a group of spectators who were watching, with appalled fascination, as the fire service dealt with the flames that were now encroaching on the neighbouring units. It wasn’t a huge fire and she was confident they would have it under control in a short time. Then the sodden and blackened interior of Unit Three would be accessible. Steel-capped boots would tramp across what was left of the floor and bright torches would illuminate any evidence that the fire had produced a fatality.
Ross had probably been sound asleep. Or had he tried to get into his wheelchair and been overcome by smoke before he’d made it to safety? Why hadn’t he activated the alarm bell connected to the hospital? And how could the fire have started anyway? Wendy was now standing well away from the still growing crowd. She saw the bed that had been pushed across the grass now returning to the fire exit she had used to gain rapid access to the area. Brad had an oxygen mask on and John and Peter were among the staff rushing him towards further medical assistance. There was no point going after them. She was having trouble thinking clearly enough to make her legs function so she would be no use at all if they needed expert assistance.
‘What the hell is going on here?’
The voice came from behind Wendy. Unexpected. How had Fletch known that there was a reason to return? Wendy’s head turned sharply. There was someone behind Fletch. Joe. And beside Joe was another shape emerging from the darkness. A man sitting in a wheelchair.
‘Oh, my God! Ross!’ For the first time in her life Wendy thought she might faint. The roaring sound in her ears had nothing to do with the noisy fire trucks ahead of them, and her difficulty catching a breath could not be blamed on any residue of smoke in the atmosphere: the fire was already well under control. Wendy was glad of the strong arms supporting her. She was shivering as the sound receded from within her head and she had to swallow hard to contain the wave of nausea that followed.
‘We thought Ross was inside.’ Her words were muffled against Fletch’s chest. ‘That he was…’
‘He’s fine.’ Fletch’s voice was a deep, reassuring rumble. ‘We kept him out too late and broke the curfew. That’s why we were sneaking back this way.’
‘But what’s happened?’ Joe queried impatiently.
‘There was a fire. It started in Ross’s unit.’
‘Is anybody hurt?’ Ross was staring at the scene. Hoses were being rolled away now and the spectators had fallen silent, waiting for news as the door to Unit Three was broken open.
‘Brad, from Unit Four, seems to have been affected by smoke inhalation. Everyone else was evacuated safely.’ Wendy pulled away from Fletch. ‘I’d better go and let them know Ross is here. Everybody thinks he was trapped.’
‘I’ll go,’ Fletch said firmly. ‘You stay here with Joe and Ross.’
Ross was silent for a very long minute. He shook his head as he let his breath out in a heavy sigh. ‘I don’t understand. How could it have started?’
‘Did you leave anything on? An iron or a heater or something?’
‘No, of course I didn’t.’
‘Maybe it was an electrical fault of some kind.’ Wendy’s words fell into another silence as they watched Fletch arrive and speak to a fire officer. They could see the wave of relief that manifested itself by a relaxation of the tense atmosphere and spread quickly. People began talking again. Heads turned in their direction and Wendy heard the sound of muted laughter.
‘I think the fact that you broke curfew has become fairly public.’ Joe’s grin was fleeting. ‘It’s just as well you did, buddy. I don’t think you would have wanted to have been tucked up in bed when that started.’
‘No.’ Ross had fixed his gaze on Fletch as he strode back towards the trio. ‘What did they say, Fletch? Do they have any idea what might have caused the fire?’
‘No.’ Fletch was looking grim. ‘What they did say was that it appears to have been an unusually fierce fire from the outset. There seems to be some suspicion that an accelerant of some kind was involved.’
‘What? Do they think Ross had a stockpile of petrol under the bed?’
‘I suspect they’re thinking more along the lines of arson.’
Joe’s breath came out in an incredulous huff. ‘How could they possibly think a place like this could be a target for an arsonist?’
‘Has to be a mistake,’ Ross added. ‘They’ll find another cause.’
‘I bet they don’t,’ Wendy said softly. ‘I think it probably was arson and, what’s more, I think that whoever lit that fire thought that Ross was inside. Asleep.’
‘I told you she was getting paranoid.’ Ross looked up at his friends. ‘She thinks Kyle Dickson is out to blow up and burn the world.’
‘He’d have trouble following a recipe well enough to burn toast,’ Joe grinned.
Fletch was frowning. ‘You don’t really think there’s anything sinister going on, do you, Wendy? Even if it was arson, which seems unlikely, maybe that unit was chosen because it was empty.’
‘And what on earth would make you think it had something to do with Kyle Dickson?’ Joe put in. ‘The guy’s an idiot.’
‘It’s just a feeling,’ Wendy admitted. ‘I know it sounds crazy.’
Ross nodded tersely. ‘And I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying whether someone’s out to get me, thanks. Give it up, Wendy. Joe said it. Kyle’s an idiot. He’s not a psychopath.’ Ross gripped the wheels on his chair and propelled himself forward. ‘I’d better go and see if they’ve got room for me at the inn.’
The crowd was dispersing. A nurse came towards Ross. ‘Thank God you’re all right,’ she exclaimed. ‘We were all thinking the worst back there.’
‘Someone’s trying to tell me something, I think,’ Ross said lightly. ‘I suspect it’s time I left this place for good. It’s time I went home.’
Ross had made up his mind and was not going to let anyone persuade him otherwise.
‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I’ve got transport. There’s no reason to stay any longer.’
‘You still haven’t attempted any gait training.’
‘My ankle injury prevented that.’
‘That’s healed now. You could start today.’
‘No.’ Ross looked at Sally who was sitting with Patrick in the hospital director’s office. ‘I know all my exercises back to front. With a bit of extra equipment like some weights I can carry on at home. In fact, I’ll do better at home. I won’t get long interruptions like having to get back to the ward for sessions with therapists or mealtimes or visiting hours.’
‘You’ve got to rest,’ Sally protested. ‘And eat. You can’t spend all your time training. This isn’t some marathon you’re getting ready for.’
‘But I feel like my physical therapy is being held back by not having enough time,’ Ross said patiently. ‘Look at today. I’m supposed to spend an hour with an occupational therapist this afternoon talking about things like bathroom rails and door ramps. Another hour for a urology appointment—if they’re running to time, and the gym will be closed by 5 p.m. when dinner starts. I don’t need any of that stuff. I’m reasonably intelligent. I can figure out what I’ll need to make life more manageable. I’m perfectly continent but if I do run into any renal problems I’m sure I’ll be able to recognise the symptoms.’
Patrick was smiling. ‘I’m sure you will.’
‘And I don’t even need dinner,’ Ross finished. ‘Look at me. I’m packing on weight with all this food and far too much sitting around.’
‘We can’t really argue with too much of that, Sally,’ Patrick said.
‘But it’s so isolated on the coast,’ Sally retorted. ‘We can do heaps more to help Ross here, even if it’s on an outpatient basis.’
‘I’m not going back to the coast for ever,’ Ross said. ‘Though we do have a perfectly good physiotherapy department at our hospital. I only need a week or two. I want to decide where I’m heading next. I want to sort out the sale of my property. And most of all I want some time to myself. I feel institutionalised. Depersonalised.’ His smile was rueful. ‘I didn’t exactly get much of a taste of independence in that unit, did I?’
Patrick shook his head. ‘That was a disaster. It’s going to take weeks to get all the units fully operational again. The only good thing is that no harm was done to anyone.’
‘And they still haven’t found what started it?’ Sally asked.
‘No. We’ve vacated the whole block. We’re putting in a smoke detection and new alarm system plus some effective sprinklers. It’s going to blow our budget in a big way for the year but at least we’ll know it’s not likely to happen again. It’s a pain for everybody who wanted the units in the meantime.’ He nodded at Ross. ‘And the delay is probably a good reason to let you have a go at home.’
‘I’m sure I didn’t do anything that could have caused the fire.’
‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ Patrick agreed. ‘I hope you’re not feeling at all responsible, Ross.’
‘No. I’m just feeling trapped,’ Ross confessed. ‘I want to get out of this place, Paddy. I’ll discharge myself if I have to.’
‘That won’t be necessary.’ Patrick stood up. ‘Come on. We’ll go and sort out the paperwork now.’ He held the door open for Ross to wheel himself into the corridor. ‘But I’ll be making an outpatient appointment for you at the end of next week and I’ll expect you to keep it.’
‘Cool. Can I leave today? Should be a nice quiet drive home on a Monday.’
‘You can leave as soon as you like,’ Patrick agreed. ‘I guess you don’t have too much packing to do.’
‘No. What I didn’t lose in the fire I probably don’t need anyway.’
Patrick nodded, then turned into the nurses’ station. ‘Oh, hello, Wendy.’ He reached for a tray of forms beneath the counter and then looked up to frown at her. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine,’ Wendy lied. She picked up the patient notes she had come to find before turning to where Ross had positioned his chair near the desk. ‘So…you’re heading home?’
Ross nodded. His smile was apologetic. ‘I’ve just managed to wangle a blessing, sort of.’
Wendy’s voice was tight. ‘Today?’
‘Yes.’ Ross tried unsuccessfully to hold her gaze. ‘I was going to come and tell you.’
Wendy’s smile looked brittle. ‘You won’t need to now.’ She turned away. ‘Drive carefully…and…and give me a call some time.’
‘Of course I will. Soon.’ Ross watched her leave with a vice-like sensation kicking in deep in his gut.
He hadn’t meant Wendy to hear his news like that but she hadn’t been around to talk to over the weekend. She hadn’t been telling him her plans, mind you. It had been Joe and Jessica who’d told him she’d gone climbing on her days off. Jessica had been anxious about having to reschedule her hen night but Ross had been vaguely relieved. At least Wendy hadn’t been overly concerned about him being a target for an obsessed volunteer firefighter. Or had concerns for her own safety prompted a trip away from town?
Maybe he shouldn’t have dismissed her fears so lightly. Wendy looked tense, and it couldn’t be simply due to the fact he was being discharged. She had accepted their break-up now. That had been obvious since the night before the class reunion, and reinforced when she hadn’t kept him in touch during the callout in Dunedin. She had seemed distant the night they’d had the party in the unit, and had seemed more bothered by the possibility that the fire had been deliberately started than whether he had been inside or not. If it had been arson, they would have found some evidence of it, surely? Perhaps focussing on dismissing Wendy’s concerns as paranoia had been a bit heavy-handed but he’d had to do something to disguise the fact he’d been scared stiff.
He wasn’t afraid of Kyle. That was nonsense. Ross had been terrified by the revelation of how helpless he would have felt if he had been caught by the fire. He could see a lifetime stretching ahead of him sprinkled with moments of feeling physically inadequate. Helpless. Disabled. For someone who had built most of his self-esteem on his physical prowess it almost represented the theft of his entire personality. And it had been terrifying. Ross had felt, at that moment, a non-person and the spotlight, however brief, had delivered a very cruel blow.
It was the core of what he now faced. For the rest of his life. In rational moments he could appreciate the other skills he had and the other aspects of his personality, but that core had robbed him of his passions—his love for activity and the outdoors—and the opportunity to live with and revel in his love for Wendy. Her protestations that she still loved him were like the knowledge that he could point his career and even hobbies in new and probably satisfying directions. He knew they could be successful if it wasn’t for that core of poison—that fear—which Ross knew would surface often enough to destroy the joy that he and those around him could enjoy.
The fear had to be faced and conquered alone. He was ready now and the only place he could truly face it was the space he had belonged to so completely. The home he had built to express who he was and what he loved about life. Maybe he could hunt down and find enough evidence to eradicate that fear of being a non-person. And maybe not. Ross couldn’t afford to consider the risk he might be taking. This was something he had to do.
And he had to do it now.
Each day seemed longer than the one before. Wendy was caught in a space she’d never experienced before and she hated it. Even when she’d been avoiding him, the knowledge that Ross had been nearby had infused her working hours with a life that had now been snuffed out. She could feel the emptiness there in the background no matter how busy she was or how much enjoyment or satisfaction her job provided.
Time away from work was worse. There were no friends Wendy could contact who weren’t totally absorbed in their own happiness. Living with the people they loved and planning weddings and futures full of promise. Being confined in her own townhouse felt suffocating but Wendy couldn’t summon any enthusiasm to use physical activity to try and break the cycle of misery.
As she unlocked the door of her flat on Thursday afternoon Wendy had to smile, albeit ruefully. Her home was cleaner than it had been in a very long time. Even her cupboards were tidy. Tomorrow was her first day off since Ross had left town. Maybe her desperation to distract herself might lead to the disorder in her garage being sorted.
The message light on her answering-machine was blinking and Wendy ruthlessly suppressed the hope that there might be a message from Ross. It was far more likely to be Jessica or Kelly, wanting her opinion on a wedding-dress pattern or venue selection. But the number that came up on the caller ID display was not one she recognised. The deliberate silence and hanging up was eerily familiar, however. The message had been received at 2.31 p.m. The next had come at 2.32. And the one after that at 2.33. Wendy found herself looking over her shoulder, more scared than she had ever been as she pushed the erase button again and again, not wanting to hear any more of the non-messages but hoping desperately for evidence that at least one person who wasn’t trying to threaten her might have called.
Wendy was still clutching the telephone five minutes later. ‘There were fourteen messages. All from the same number.’
‘Give me the number. I’ll have it traced.’
Wendy reeled off the figures. ‘I’m scared, Nick. I don’t know what I should do.’
‘Make sure your doors are locked and don’t answer if anyone knocks. Stay home. I’m going to make a few calls and then I’m coming round to see you. If you feel unsafe before then, dial triple one.’
‘OK. Thanks, Nick.’
‘My pleasure. See you soon.’
Wendy waited by her window, and the sight of the police parking by her gate was an enormous relief. The look on Nick Thompson’s face as he sat down on her couch, having introduced his colleague Julie, was not.
‘There’s been some developments,’ the young detective informed her. ‘There’s a warrant out for the arrest of Kyle Dickson.’
Wendy’s jaw dropped. ‘For what?’
‘Dunedin CID decided yesterday that they had enough evidence for a search warrant. You were right—his computer has been used to access some pretty incriminating sites.’
‘Have they found Kyle?’ Wendy had a horrible feeling she already knew the answer to her question.
‘No.’ Nick’s face settled into even more serious lines. ‘And there’s something else you should know.’
‘What?’ The word was a whisper.
‘The police found some photographs in the house. They scanned and emailed them to me.’ Nick opened the manila folder he held and showed Wendy a page.
She could feel the colour draining from her face. ‘I didn’t even know they were missing.’
‘Where would he have found them?’
The photos were not all recent. One had been taken on a climbing expedition a year or so ago. Another was a shot of her in a bikini taken on a beach in Spain. ‘I keep all my photos in a shoebox in my bedroom wardrobe. I haven’t had any reason to look at them recently.’
‘Did you notice anything else missing after the break-in?’ Nick consulted another piece of paper. ‘You mentioned a silver necklace. Did you find that?’
‘No.’
‘You weren’t missing any…ah…more personal items?’
‘Like what?’
Nick didn’t meet her stare. ‘A black bra and knickers set?’
‘Oh, my God.’ The underwear she had been looking for the night of the USAR gathering. Wendy felt sick as she nodded slowly.
‘I’m sorry we didn’t take your fears more seriously earlier,’ Nick said. ‘I can assure you that everything possible is being done to find Mr Dickson and we’ll make sure you have protection in the meantime.’
‘Do they have any idea where he is right now?’
‘We’ve only just started a concerted search effort. We’re running a check on credit-card usage and his car registration right now.’
‘He drives a Volkswagen Beetle. A maroon one.’
Nick shook his head. ‘He traded that in a while back. He’s got a fairly late model Toyota now. Sporty-looking black number.’ Nick’s smile was wry. ‘Turns out he had an accident the day after he bought it and caved the driver’s door in. The panelbeater he went to had to replace the whole door. It should be easy to spot unless he’s got around to having the door repainted to match.’
Wendy took a deep breath to try and counteract the sick fear settling around her stomach. ‘And the phone number I gave you? From those messages?’
‘A public phone booth.’ Nick hesitated. ‘In the closest shopping centre you have.’ He didn’t allow enough time for Wendy to assimilate the implications. ‘I can leave Julie here with you but it may be better for you to go and stay with a friend for a day or two.’
Wendy nodded. No way did she want to stay in her townhouse. ‘I’ll go out to my friend, Kelly Drummond. She lives just out of Halswell.’
‘Would you like us to drop you out there?’
‘No, I’d rather have my own car with me.’
Nick nodded. ‘We’ll wait while you pack a few things then we’ll follow you far enough to make sure you haven’t been tailed.’
‘Thanks. I’d appreciate that.’
The police car followed Wendy’s hatchback until she was clear of the suburbs. A flash of the beacons signalled a farewell and Wendy tried not to feel abandoned. The police were on the case now. They would locate and arrest Kyle very soon, and in the meantime she would be safe and she wouldn’t be alone. Kelly and Fletch would be ideal company.
Except that Wendy didn’t want their company. She felt scared and alone and there was only one person in the world she wanted to be with. The desire for the comfort and understanding only Ross could give her was overwhelming. Wendy carried on through the roundabout past the exit south she had intended to take. Instead, she headed west. Towards the coast.
Towards Ross.
The traffic was a little heavier on the main West Coast road but Wendy wasn’t bothered. She was focussed on where she was heading, not where she had been. She had no reason to take any notice of the vehicle travelling well behind her.
A low-slung, black car.
With a dark blue driver’s door.