Not Forgotten (16 page)

Chapter 20

Natalie watched as Matt deftly navigated past a car accident, several road works and work day traffic delays as he explained the situation to his partner, Darryl on his mobile. An hour later, Matt parked in her driveway and she was surprised to see a forensics team already on site, most likely dusting and combing her backyard for signs of her intruder. She grimaced. Her neighbours were going to love this. Matt got out of the car and bent at the waist to look through the open window at her.

“Stay here,” he ordered and held up his hand, effectively stopping the argument she was about start. “Just until I have the all clear, then you and the pandas are free to go inside and change.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts and glared at him. He gave her a wink before joining a group of officers that were standing beside the gate that led to her backyard. Thankfully, they had foregone the crime scene tape, but their police issued vehicles still gave curiosity seekers something to talk about. She was pretty sure her name would be on her neighbours’ lips for some time after this.

Natalie sank down deeper into the seat in Matt’s car. He had offered to drive her home and then back to the office once their work was completed. She hadn’t argued. Her legs were still a little shaky and he had parked at the kerb of the building in a clear ‘no parking’ zone. She hadn’t wanted to take the time to walk to her car, not that she would be able to drive once she got there. She also didn’t want to be left alone even for the short drive home. She wasn’t used to feeling so dependent on another person but she felt if she was to lean on anyone, Matt was the man who could easily take the load.

After a few minutes of watching the forensic team move about her property, Matt made his way towards her. She got out of the car and leaned against the closed door. She raised an enquiring eyebrow at him when he was close.

“Good news. No forced entry and all the doors and windows are secure. No one entered your house.”

Natalie nodded. That was good news. She didn’t like to think the creep had entered her house and looked through God knows what, touching whatever he desired. She didn’t think she could deal with that degree of violation.

“And the footprint?” she asked, somewhat relieved.

Matt shook his head. “There’s no footprint. It seems last night’s rain worked in his favour.”

He took Natalie’s arm and led her to her front door, relieving her of her keys. He unlocked the door and allowed her to precede him into the house.

“What about the fingerprints? The face print?” she asked.

Matt made his way into her kitchen and started preparing the coffee maker as if he did it all the time, measuring out the coffee beans and hitting the right buttons.

Oh yes, he hit all the right buttons
, she thought.

Once he was done prepping the coffee maker, he turned back around to face her. He leaned a hip against her counter. “Gone.”

“Gone?”

“As in not there.”

Anger bubbled up inside of her. Did he really believe she had just made all this up? That she had nothing better to do with her time than to create this elaborate story to get him and his forensic team down here to cover her windows with fingerprint dust? She was not that pathetic, thank you very much. So last night got away from her. Sure, she had been tired, scared from reading the horrific accounts of the Butcher’s victims but she didn’t make up the story of the face at her window and she didn’t dream or hallucinate the evidence.

She crossed her hands under her breasts and once again glared at him. “I didn’t make this up,
Detective
. I’m not a crazy loon out for attention.” She advanced on him. “Furthermore, I find this incredibly insulting that you and all your little friends out there would think that about me—a trained professional no less.”

She held up her hand signalling that she was not done. “I have a good mind to resist helping you any further in your case, Detective Murphy. You obviously have no regard for my talents at all.” She covered his mouth with her hand when he looked as if he was about to speak. “But I’m not going to do that. You need help and I’m going to give it to you. I’ll prove to you that I can do the job you assigned me whether you want me to or not!”

She took a deep breath. She felt remarkably better now that she’d gotten that out in the open. She looked at him, waiting for a response. “Well?” she asked, after it became clear he wasn’t going to speak.

Matt raised his hand and removed her own from his mouth. She then realised she hadn’t let it drop after she was done with her tirade. She blushed, her face hot. The coffee maker beeped loudly, signalling it was finished and Matt turned around and busied himself pouring the black liquid into the mugs he found hanging from a cupboard.

“Sugar, milk?” he asked, his tone conveying no emotion, his face showing none of his thoughts.

“Yes, please,” she squeaked, her mouth dry. She tried to swallow but it didn’t help. Natalie couldn’t believe she went off like that. Of all her years keeping her cool, this one cop made her lose it so quickly—and so embarrassingly at that.

Matt nodded and added sugar and milk into each mug before handing her one. She lightly blew over the hot drink before taking a tentative sip. She met his eyes over the rim of her cup and saw laughter there. Natalie resisted the urge to hit him. How dare he laugh at her! She narrowed her eyes and contemplated throwing the coffee into his face. As if reading her mind, Matt stepped back a few paces.

“What I was going to say before your little outburst back there was, it looks as if your midnight prowler revisited you last night and removed the evidence. Forensics found some smears and a few cotton fibres on the glass.”

“Oh.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s all you have to say. Just a minute ago I couldn’t shut you up and now all you have for me is one word—oh?” he asked mockingly.

Any minute now, the blush on her face was going to burn her up and she would be a blissful pile of ash.
Yes
, she thought,
any moment now
.

“I might’ve said a few words, a sentence really.”

“More like a paragraph, or two,” he added under his breath.

“I don’t do well sleep deprived and sleeping in one’s office chair isn’t really conducive for a good night’s sleep.”

He nodded as if all this made sense. “I don’t believe you’re crazy. Nor do I believe you made any of it up. I know you saw what you saw. You’re a pretty unflappable person.” He grinned at her and the dimple in his cheek appeared. “Unless of course you didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

“Right,” she said, indignant.

“Also, I have the upmost confidence in your professional capacity.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Now you’re just being a jerk.”

“Just thought I’d lay everything out on the table for you,” he replied.

“You could have stopped me.”

Exasperated, he said, “I tried.”

She threw her arms up in the air, spilling coffee. “Next time try harder.”

She put down her coffee mug and stormed to the base of the stairs. At the sound of his voice she stopped and turned around to face him.

“Is there going to be a next time?” he asked.

God, I hope not
, she thought. Although it had been quite fun looking back on it. She flashed him a smile. Best to tell the truth.

“More than likely,” she replied and turned and ran up the stairs leaving Matt shaking his head, a huge grin on his face.

God help her, she was looking forward to it.

Chapter 21

Lara Russell looked up as the elevator binged indicating that a patient had arrived. The man wasn’t dressed in Ralph Lauren. So many of them weren’t. She had taken the job as a receptionist at the shrink’s office in hopes of snagging a rich husband, but so far no takers. She had assumed that all Doctor Miller’s patients would have some money. She had seen the invoices the accountant had left on her desk to post out and
wow!
But not one of the many men walking through the office had anything she was looking for. She wasn’t picky. Young, old, handsome, ugly—who cared? It was the money that was important.

Some would say it was risky using the shrink’s office as a possible dating pool, but she had it all worked out. When a suitable candidate came along, she would use the emergency key to Doctor Miller’s office to go through her files, just to make sure he wasn’t a psycho or anything. A girl had be sure.

But after six months at the low paying job she hadn’t met anyone even close to what she considered a match. First there was the fact that most of the patients were women. If she thought she could get any money out of the hags that came through the door, she could gladly swing that way for a while but no, they wouldn’t do at all.

Second, there were the little trust fund shits that found their way into the office. They would be perfect except she would have to wait a few years until she could get at their money and thirdly, all the men that came here were completely unsuitable. She had tried to flirt with them but they were either married and didn’t have the balls to have a mistress, or they were gay. A complete let down. How was she supposed to get out of this nine to five hell if the Doc didn’t start bringing in some fresh meat?

The man stood at the other side of the reception desk. His wrinkled shirt was untucked from his jeans and he looked about sixty. He smelled like sweat—not just any kind of sweat, nervous sweat. She smelled it all the time. Some people were just downright paranoid about seeing a psychologist.

She flashed him her five thousand dollar smile that one of her many previous boyfriends had paid for. The man’s tension did not ease up. He ran his hand over his five o’clock shadow.

“Hello. How can I help you?” she asked, playing on her bubbly voice. People always underestimated a bubbly person and if that person happened to have blonde hair like she did, no one took stock of her. Unless of course they were checking her out.

The man cleared his throat. She caught the waft of toothpaste as he spoke and wondered if he’d swallowed the whole tube. She resisted the urge to step back. She had found that many patients went psycho if she made any sudden movements.

“I’m here to see Natalie Miller,” the man said, his voice like gravel.

No shit
, she thought. That was why he was in her office, after all. The door outside did read:

Doctor Natalie Miller BA (Hons) MPsych PhD MAPS.

Lara had no idea what it all meant and couldn’t care less. Her smile remained plastered to her face as she thought the unkind words. Since she had started in the office she had trained her face to show no emotion except friendly. She always believed you caught more flies with honey than you did vinegar. Her hands stayed in sight, her fingers twitching to smooth out the creases on her face. If she kept this up she would need a plastic surgeon before she was thirty.

“I’m sorry. Doctor Miller isn’t in the office right now. Do you want to leave a message?”

The man shook his head, turned around and stalked back to the elevator. She watched as he got into the next available carriage and the doors closed on his face.

Good riddance
, she thought.
What a freak!

Doctor Miller sure saw some wackos. Maybe she’d better revise her game plan.

She barely got that thought out when she saw Doctor Miller open the door that led to the staircase. Lara didn’t mind Natalie. She was all right for a woman—at least for a brunette. She never looked down on her because she was just a receptionist like other people had. Sometimes she dreamed of having a practice just like Natalie’s, to be in a position to command respect for once instead of at the bottom. She smiled brightly as Natalie drew near. Even from the small distance, Lara could see the dark bags under her eyes and she imagined a blackboard with ‘be like Natalie Miller’ written on it and then along came a piece of chalk drawing a line straight through it.

Natalie returned her smile. “Morning, Lara, any messages?”

Lara shook her head, her blonde curls floating around her face like a halo. She spent good money on hair products and clothes and makeup. Which was why she needed another sugar daddy. She was burning cash quicker than she could earn it.

“No, but a man was just here looking for you. He’s gone now,” she added when Natalie looked about the waiting room.

Natalie frowned. “A man? Did he leave a name or number?”

Again, Lara shook her head. “No. He didn’t say anything. He just walked off.”

“What’d he look like?”

“Tall, edgy. A little scruffy looking and rude,” Lara added as an afterthought.

Natalie sighed. “Unfortunately, you have just described every guy I know. Thanks anyway.”

***

Natalie stopped inside
her office and closed the door. She slumped against the wood.
A man
, she thought. Could it have been the same man who was at her home last night? She shook her head. There was no way of knowing since the waiting room didn’t have video surveillance. Although, now that she thought about it, that was a brilliant idea and she made plans to call a security company later in the day.

She headed straight for her coffee maker. She was going to need every bean in Columbia if she was going to make it through to the afternoon.