When Tiffany Cahill opened the door and laid eyes on the police officers, memories flooded back of the horrid day the year before when she’d been dragged to the police station. Everything inside her tensed as she checked the lever for the screen door to make sure it was locked. She rubbed her damp palms against her pants.
“Miss Cahill?” the male police officer asked, his dark brown eyes focussing on her.
Scared, she wasn’t able to find her voice, she bit her lip and simply nodded.
“Miss Tiffany Cahill?” the female, and younger, officer asked.
Tiffany nodded again. If she focussed on the officer’s flaming red hair beneath her cap, she wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. But she allowed herself a cautious peek at the officers’ faces.
Their expressions were unreadable, which was worrying.
“I’m Senior Constable Jones. This is Sergeant Harris.” The officer paused for a moment. “We would like to ask you a couple of questions in regard to Thomas Terrill.”
“Who?” Tiffany asked, hardly above a whisper. Her whole body shook, and she knew she had to sit down soon or she’d faint.
“Thomas Terrill,” Jones repeated. “He was up on charges last year for the possession of drugs. The file states you were involved—”
“There’s no way I’ll come with you.” Her voice was louder than intended, panic rising within her. “You can’t make me—”
“Miss Cahill,” Jones said with a calm voice.
“We’re not here to take you with us, but to ask you a few questions,” Sergeant Harris explained, pulling out a little notepad from his shirt pocket, opening it with an expert snap. “Is there anybody with you at home?”
Tiffany frowned as she shook her head. Anxiety raced through the pit of her stomach, and she had to resist the urge to step back to shut the door.
“Anybody you can call?”
His voice was soothing, and when Tiffany met his eyes through the screen door, she noticed something that conveyed trust. And there was a need inside her to trust him, yet every fibre in her told her to not open the door. Never again would she let the police take her to the station and treat her like a criminal.
She bit her lip again, desperate to figure out whom to call, when she replied, “My brother.”
Harris nodded. “Thomas Terrill was charged with possession of drugs last year. You are noted as a witness.” He paused, checked his little notepad, and continued, “He’s also known as Hudson Ford.”
Leaning her head against the door, Tiffany took a deep breath to steady herself.
“Are you okay, Miss Cahill?” Harris asked.
“Please open the door,” Jones requested.
Holding up her hand, Tiffany replied, “I haven’t seen him since last year. I have nothing to do with whatever trouble he’s in.” Her entire body trembled, anxiety rushing through her like a tidal wave. She took another two deep breaths before standing straight to meet Harris’ gaze.
He searched her eyes before he assented with a nod and held out a business card. “We need to talk to you. I can assure you you’re not in trouble, but we need your help.” He squeezed the card into the small gap of the doorframe. “This is my number. Please call in when you have somebody with you, and we can have a talk.”
She nodded, appreciating him leaving the card in the door and not insisting on opening up.
“Will you be okay, Miss Cahill?” This time Jones asked.
The simple answer was no, but again, she nodded, hoping for this nightmare to end soon.
Senior Constable Jones and Sergeant Harris left, and Tiffany watched them drive off in their car. Only then did she close the door, leaning against it, and then slowly sliding down. Clasping her legs against her chest, she laid her head on her knees and took a few deep breaths until her heart rate returned to normal.
Tiffany wasn’t sure how long she sat there before she was finally able to get up and reach the phone in the kitchen. She stared at the modern cooking area in front of her as if she was seeing it for the first time. The old wooden cupboards contrasted with her fancy new fridge and oven. The window more or less right in front of her with the view to her neglected back yard. She stepped to the wooden table near the wall and sat before dialling the familiar number. It didn’t take long for someone to answer.
“Hello?” came an unfamiliar man’s voice.
Tiffany hesitated, but hung up without giving it a second thought. Checking the numbers by pushing redial, she pressed connect when she was sure. With her heartbeat up a notch, she focussed.
“Hello?” the same man answered, this time with irritation.
Frayed with confusion, she moved her mouth soundlessly until she got her bearings, “Uhm, can I talk to Steve, please?”
“He’s not home.”
“Who…who are you?”
“My name is Mat. Can I leave him a message?”
Running a hand through her short hair, she racked her brain to put one and one together. This person definitely had a little Kiwi accent. But who the hell was he?
His next question hauled her back to their conversation. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am. Please let him know I called,” she snapped, still out of sorts, and hung up, never giving him a chance to reply.
Breathing hard, she tried to calm herself and reduce the adrenaline that had shot through her and left her shaking all over. She took another deep breath before she walked to the sink to rinse her clammy hands and make a cup of tea. The sound of the phone made her jump, and she rushed back to grab it, nearly knocking over the vase of flowers, cursing the police all the way as well as Hudson, the bastard, who had left her in hospital bruised and beaten up last year.
“Steve?”
“It’s Mat. How about you tell me your name so I can ask Steve to return your call?”
‘‘How did you get my number?”
“I hit the redial button,” he replied, as if surprised by her question.
A smile twitched at Tiffany’s lips. He knew how to help himself. And he cared. “It’s Tiffany. My name is Tiffany.”
“Nice meeting you, Tiffany, even though it’s over the phone. So, you’re sure you’re okay?”
Tiffany hesitated, but noticed how talking to him calmed her. A quietness inside her began to push away the troubling fears, helping her to relax. “Who are you?”
‘‘My name’s Mat, but I’ve already told you that.”
There was no malice in his voice. She sat on one of the chairs, her body relaxing bit by bit. “Steve never mentioned someone called Mat.”
He laughed. “You know all his secrets?”
“No. But, considering I’m his best friend, I believe, he would have mentioned a friend staying with him.”
“Let me think, I can’t recall him mentioning your name, either.”
His voice had a teasing tone, and Tiffany was starting to like him. It was exactly what she needed after opening the door to the police.
“After his girlfriend, I’m the next most important person in Steve’s life,” she said, trying hard to match his humour. “And there’s never been a mention of a person named Mat. I’m pretty certain of that.”
“Damn that little bugger. Here I thought we were best buddies.” He paused for a second then added, “Tell me, Tiffany, why were you so upset?”
“You tell me first how Steve knows someone from New Zealand.”
He laughed again, and it was one of those contagious laughs, which told everyone of his love for it: deep, heartfelt, and infectious. She liked him already for his laugh alone.
“You picked up on that, ay?”
“Educated guess.”
There was silence before he explained. “Steve and I went to school together in Sydney, and we’ve stayed in contact.”
She remembered Steve had grown up in Sydney but then moved to Melbourne in his early teens because of his father’s job. Mat’s voice brought her back from her thoughts, before she was able to reply.
“Darling, I love talking to you, but I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour. Can you promise me you’ll be okay?”
“Thanks, Mat. Yes, I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t a big lie, because at that moment she was feeling better.
She hung up and noticed a smile on her face. And instead of a churning stomach, butterflies had made themselves comfortable. She thought of how easy the conversation had flowed and how attentive he’d been. And his voice. She liked his voice. It was deep and calm, smooth and articulate. She closed her eyes and lost herself in his accent. It hadn’t been strong, but still obvious to her.
And then there’d been his laugh. God, his laugh. It had turned her inside out.
With a big exhale, she covered her face with her hands, surprised that on a day she had to face the police, she was drooling over a man she’d never met, but only talked to.
For a mere few minutes, at that.
The police. A ripple of worry went through her, and she stood to search for her phone to give Steve another call. This time on his mobile.
****
The GPS voice in Matiu Apanui’s car had as little of a clue as he did about the directions to get to his meeting place, and after half an hour, he was still on the western side of Melbourne instead of in the city. The reason for it was Tiffany, who was on the threshold of his thoughts. He replayed the phone conversation over and over in his head. It was clear something must’ve upset her. Even though she’d relaxed during their short conversation, he’d been able to sense her tension.
“Shit,” he shouted as he pressed the speed dial button on his phone, remembering he’d never left a note for his friend.
“Mate, where are you?” Steve asked, by way of answering.
“I have no idea. Near a big park. Looks pretty with the trees alongside the walking tracks. Had no idea Melbourne had all these deciduous trees—”
“Mat!”
“The lovely GPS lady took me on a sightseeing tour first it seems. I’m considering stopping for a coffee and to reboot her at the same time.”
“And you called me to tell me that?”
Mat noticed the frustration in his friend’s voice and asked bluntly, “Tell me about your girlfriend.”
There was a brief silence, before Steve asked, “You want to talk about Jess?”
Mat’s laughter echoed in the small car as he turned off the engine and got out. With a few long strides, he headed towards the café. “I thought Jess is more than your girlfriend. I’m talking about Tiffany.”
There was a groan on the other end of the line. “I heard about your phone call. You must’ve left some impression, but if you start any rumours by calling her my girlfriend I will kill you.”
As he stepped inside the cafe, Mat asked, “You heard?”
“I’ve already spoken to her, but I don’t—”
“I’m glad you did. Tiffany was desperate to talk to you. I hope you were able to help her.”
Mat held his phone away for a moment, smiled at the young woman behind the counter, and ordered his coffee.
‘‘You’re still there?” Steve asked with a loud voice.
Mat shook his head with a smile and explained, “Yes, mate, just ordering a much-needed coffee.” His friend’s resigned sigh gave him another chuckle. “If you’ve already talked to her, we’re all good, ay.”
“We’re all good. Thanks for calling anyway and good luck finding your way. But, by the way, what the hell did you two talk about?”
Mat took a sip of the coffee and was impressed by the flavour considering it cost him only a few bucks.
“Mat, you’re pissing me off here. Will you focus on this conversation?”
“Geez, Steve. When did you get so touchy?”
There was a sharp intake of breath and an exhale on the other end of the line. “Tiff had a rough twelve months and a shitty morning. I’m simply concerned.”
Mat froze mid-stride. Damn! He’d assumed something was wrong, but now he was curious about the history of it all. “What happened?”
“What the hell did you talk to her about, Matiu?” His friend’s voice was now loud and his tone impatient.
Mat leaned against the car with one hand in his pocket and watched the heavy traffic, recalling his conversation with Tiffany earlier that day. “Well,” he began. “I answered your phone, and she hung up but rang again. I told her you weren’t home, and she asked me to leave a message and hung up. I returned the call, and we had a bit of a chit chat. You seem very overprotective.”
There was a pause before Steve spoke. “Yeah, she’s a great friend who’s been through a rough patch.”
“How come you’ve never talked about her?”
“I probably have mentioned her, but nothing worth you remembering.”
“Should’ve though, I guess.” Mat thought about it for a moment. “Anyway, glad you talked to her. The panic in her voice had me worried. You’ll have to tell me more about your girl tonight. I’ve got to go,” he said eventually with a grin.
“She’s not my girl,” his friend replied through gritted teeth. “And good luck with your meeting.”
Mat disconnected the call, placed the cup of coffee on the top of the car, and tried to re-program the direction to his meeting place in his phone. How he missed Queenstown at that moment. With probably a mere tenth of Melbourne’s population, navigation was easy, only hampered sometimes by tourists who drove on the wrong side of the road or who were simply lost.
He thought of Steve’s comment about Tiffany’s rough year. Worry shot through him, and he wished he’d copied her number to his phone.
The sound of her voice still played in his head. A tone that stoked angst and concern.
Exhaling a long breath, Mat focussed back to the problem at hand, got into the car, and listened to the GPS directions — as well as following them. Thankfully, within half an hour he found himself in an office opposite Karen Young, the representative of an Australian travel agency.
A few months earlier, Mat had lost the coin toss between him and his partner Adam, and it was now he who was in Melbourne trying to negotiate a deal with Karen. Mat was interested in including his helicopter flights as part of a travel package for tourists in Queenstown, his hometown. He stepped into her small office, instantly overcome by some mild claustrophobia when he saw a small window with no view, but showing the walls of the building next door. Inhaling a breath, he forced himself to take in the rest of the well-decorated office, with framed photos from all over the world.
Including his beloved Queenstown.
Most of the places he knew, although he’d never been there, and he wondered whether Karen had.
“Nice meeting you, Mat.”
He shook Karen’s hand and was surprised by her firm grip. “Likewise.”
As they sat, he studied her small frame, her short wavy grey hair, and soft blue eyes. He assumed her to be in her mid to late fifties. Her complexion was honey brown with not even a small blemish on her skin, but a few lines around her eyes.
Her assistant brought some coffee and biscuits.
“You’ve brought the cold weather to Melbourne,” Karen said, as she poured herself some coffee. Pointing to his take-a-way coffee cup, she asked, “Would you like a fill-up?”
“I’m right, thanks,” he replied, ignoring her swipe at the weather. Mat emptied his cup of coffee with one long sip before he placed it on the table. “Are you still going ahead with the contract?”
He was referring to the nasty incident a week earlier with a helicopter crash in the mountains. It’d been a big blow for the small communities of Fox and Franz Josef Glacier.
Karen nodded. “Terrible. Just terrible.” She paused and leaned back in her chair. “Yes, we’d like to go ahead with the contract. We assume by the time you’ll have set up the business in Queenstown, it will be out of the news.”
Mat’s stomach squeezed. How he hated this side of business. If this hadn’t meant a big opportunity for him and Adam, he’d have cancelled the whole meeting. Bugger the money. But he wanted to move back to Queenstown and the contract would give him the finances to set up an office in his hometown.
Karen reached for her cup of coffee. “Tell me about you and your partner.”
He leaned back into the chair and crossed his legs. It was his favourite subject. “Adam and I started our helicopter business five years ago in Fox Glacier. It was simple as we liked the idea of doing what we loved every day and meeting people from all over the world at the same time. Now we fly hundreds of tourists to the summit of the glacier or hunters and hikers to inaccessible huts on the top of the mountains.”
“And what about the idea to move to Queenstown.”
He cocked a brow. “We’re not moving. Staff in Fox Glacier is brilliant. We’re expanding at a nice rate. Now we’d like to expand to Queenstown. It’s my hometown. I’d love to show off where I grew up.”
“I can see why,” she replied with a smile. “Okay then.”
He gave a slow nod. “Okay. Let’s talk figures.”
Mat’s knowledge about figures was basic and something he’d learnt over the last few years since he’d started the business with Adam. They hadn’t been able to afford someone to look after their books, so they’d handled the task themselves. Yet, he knew what he wanted, and after two hours of discussing, arguing, and checking numbers, he’d finally come to an agreement with Karen on their first draft. It was now up to their lawyers to settle on the details.
Before he left, though, they spent another few minutes talking about New Zealand, travelling, and how he’d come to be a helicopter pilot. He liked Karen, and she promised she’d be one of the first to fly with him once he’d moved.
Mat walked back to his car, tired and worn out. Too much talking. When it came to the business side of things, his heart wasn’t as invested. He loved flying, loved being up in the air, the sensation of no ties, and gazing at the wonders Mother Nature had to offer.
****
Tiffany walked down the floating wooden staircase, which reached up to her half-floor loft bedroom, and into the kitchen for a drink. Water gushed from the faucet as she filled the kettle and then switched it on.
Her mind returned to the conversation with Steve’s friend, Mat. She’d enjoyed the brief, although bizarre, conversation. His voice had been so happy and full of energy it had taken her mind off her problem within only a few minutes. Something she hadn’t been able to achieve with the bath she had taken later that morning. The whole hysteria from the previous year had crept up, leaving her anxious, tense, and with a headache. A nice cup of tea would hopefully do the trick. She thought of Mat’s laugh and her mouth curled in response. It was deep and hearty. One of those laughs that could be contagious to anyone who heard it. Just thinking about it brought a smile to her lips. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember whether Steve had ever mentioned Mat’s name, but as much as she tried, she wasn’t able to recall ever hearing about a friend from New Zealand.
The whistling kettle drew her back from her thoughts, and she filled her cup. Dipping the teabag in and out of the water, she recalled her conversation with Steve earlier in the day when he’d finally returned her call.
“What’s up, Tiff? I’ve got about three missed calls here,” he had asked, not giving her a chance to even say hello.
Just hearing his voice sent a jolt of relief through her, almost catching her breath. After all, most of her problems weren’t half as bad once Steve was there to help. Despite him being her brother Liam’s best friend, Steve and Tiffany had become close during the year Liam had gone to London for a gap year.
“Why haven’t you ever told me about Mat?” Stunned by her own question, she slapped her forehead a few times wondering where the question had come from — especially as matters more important were on hand.
There was a quiet chuckle on the other end of the line, and she was momentarily struck by a bout of embarrassment.
“Your problem can’t be too bad,” Steve replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Ignoring his comment, she said, “The police was here asking about Hudson.”
Silence hung in the air before he replied, “Shit. No wonder I’ve had so many missed calls.”
“Not to mention the amount of time I tried to get hold of you on your landline. So who the hell is this guy, and why did he answer your phone?”
“First things first, tell me about the police.”
Tiffany headed into the lounge room and sat on the couch. “As I said already, they turned up here this morning wanting to know about Hudson.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, but quickly added, “How the hell would I know?”
Her friend’s sigh alerted her that frustration grew within him, so she told him about the visit earlier in the day in every detail. She looked around the lounge room as she spoke, taking in the bright colours of the painted walls, the small, but rustic fireplace, her sofa and matching armchairs, and the bookshelves, packed with books and photos.
“I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I don’t know where else to go. Mum and Dad will worry themselves sick and won’t be any use. And Liam will go berserk when he finds out the police came to the house again. I’m still glad he didn’t get locked up when he pushed that officer last year. And there’s also the fact that Mel’s stress-o-meter is supposed to stay below zero.”
There was silence at the other end of the line and a smile tugged at Tiffany’s mouth, assuming he got her hint about Liam’s wife.
“Run that by me again?” he finally asked.
“Focus, Steve. Focus. I need your help.” Her smile turned into a grin despite anxiety spreading through her.
“Okay, I’ll be there in half an hour. You can tell me all about Mel’s stress levels on the way to the police.”
“You first.”
“First what?”
“You’re first to reveal all about your Kiwi friend.”
He snorted and hung up without replying.
Tiffany tried to eat something and although the sandwich in front of her looked delicious with the fresh cucumber, tomatoes, and ham, she wasn’t able to take a bite. Impatient and unable to relax, she went into her bedroom and tidied up while thinking back to the time she had spent with Hudson.
She’d met him over a year ago. He’d been in her business management classes, and she’d liked him straight away. Sexy described him to the dot. His voice, his face, his sense of how to dress, his compliments…she was sure she could come up with more. Yet, his enthusiasm had been lacking, and he’d struggled through classes. Obviously, Tiffany had been happy to help, because hanging out with the wrong crowd, or friends as they called themselves, in school, she’d left after Year 9 with nowhere to go, and she knew how it was. Hudson and Tiffany hung out more and more, until they’d spent a night together. Rolling her eyes at herself, she admitted, yes, perfect was the right word to describe having sex with him. He’d known how and where to touch her, exploring every curve with his mouth, leaving a trail of kisses. The mere thought still sent shivers down her spine, followed by a chill thinking about what had happened the next day. She’d found him in his lounge room, all pale with little pearls of sweat on his forehead. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out the reason for his distress. When she started giving him a lecture about drugs, he’d snapped, throwing a tantrum.
Her mistake had been to persist instead of leaving and closing the door on their short chapter. When she’d dared to shake her head in disgust, he clipped her across the jaw with a perfect fist. She’d fought hard to stay on her feet, ignoring the intense pain and the dizziness. It hadn’t been a one off. Another hit…and next thing she remembered she’d woken up in hospital.
And now he was causing her trouble again. Though, not directly, it seemed.
An indescribable emotion grew inside her. She stared towards the window and watched the few birds in the back yard. Although anger and worry tried to trickle through her, the emotions inside her were more like an emptiness. It was as if Hudson had never existed during the last twelve months and giving him room inside her, in the form of any emotion, was something she wouldn’t allow to happen.
And, yet, the police thought she had information that could help. Help with what? How? Did she have it in her to help?
When she heard a knock at the front door, she flinched and cursed the unknown situation grating so much on her nerves.
Opening the door for Steve, she gave him a grateful smile. As usual, he looked stunning with his suntanned face, his light green eyes, and just a shadow of a beard. His Irish red hair was a bit longer nowadays, which was most likely the current fashion, and Tiffany liked it. It gave him a sexier, yet mature look. Their friendship had grown even closer after her trouble with Hudson the previous year. He and Liam had been there for her when the police had knocked on her door and taken her to the station. It had been the worst period in her life. Both men had been by her side, though, caring for her and guiding her through the labyrinth of a legal nightmare.
He probably knew how anxious she was.
“Hi, Tiff,” he said, as he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Sorry, we’ve got to rush a bit. Jessi and I have an appointment in the afternoon.”
“Your girlfriend could show some—”
He held up his hand and his expression turned into a sly grin. “Let’s say we have a situation where I want to keep her stress levels as low as possible.”
She froze and a slow smile curved her lips. “Are you telling me there’s going to be a little Steve junior?”
“I’m telling you we’re having an appointment and that we’ve got to hurry along a bit.”
“How exciting.” Tiffany grabbed her keys, locked the door, and followed him to his car.
Once they were buckled up and on the road, Steve asked, “Have you had any contact with Hudson since?”
“No way. Once bitten, twice shy. Isn’t that what they say?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sat straight. “Okay, distract me a bit and tell me about Mat.”
He shook his head. “Sounds like love at first sight. Or hear, I suppose.”
“Oh, my God, no, but I’m curious about him.”
He chuckled. “Mat lived across the road from us in Sydney,” he explained with a shrug. “His dad had been a famous rugby player in New Zealand. The family moved to Sydney where his dad did some coaching. None of them really settled, though. Mat and I stayed in contact since. Liam and I visited him numerous times. I’m hoping to invest in his new business venture. That’s why he’s here.”
“What kind of business?”
Steve parked and turned to look at her. “How about a barbeque at our place tomorrow night? I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to tell you all about his little barn in the middle of nowhere.”
“Barn?”
He laughed. “He bought the thing a few years back and turned it into one mighty great house. Shame he’s moving back to Queenstown.”
They got out of the car and walked towards the police station entrance. A sudden rush of anxiety swept through her, leaving her hands cold and her heart pounding in her throat.
Taking her hand, Steve said, “You’ll be right. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation to it.”
She let out a puff of air. “With the police ending up at my doorstep wanting information about Hudson, I doubt the explanation is simple.”