Not Forgotten (4 page)

“Is the girl in danger?”

“She’s in a padded room. It’s not her I’m worried about.”

No, Natalie decided, he was more worried about the Marie Stantons of the world. She didn’t envy him in the slightest. His was a hard and unappreciative job, much like hers, but she didn’t put her life on the line every day as he did. She took a deep breath and was immediately assaulted with the unique scent of Detective Murphy, a combination of pure raw male and perspiration. The mixture was currently wreaking havoc on her senses. Her leg began to bounce up and down beneath the desk, a sure sign of her frustration.

“Has she been susceptible to previous counselling?”

Matt leaned forward in the chair, placing his arms over his thighs. “According to the Director of Paradise Valley, no. In fact, she can be downright antagonistic.”

“That’s not surprising. Not everyone is interested in spilling their innermost thoughts to a stranger.” The very idea of verbalising her violent past had her quivering slightly. It was her pain alone and not meant to be shared. Natalie leaned back in her seat and regarded him. “What is it you want from her? Surely the police interviewed her back then. What more do you hope to gain from her?”

Matt held her gaze. “To be honest, the case has gone cold, despite the recent murder. I’d just like to hear her recount the night once more. See if any new information can be had.”

“I see.”

Natalie quickly read through the first page, absorbing the text and filtering out the important information and disregarding the nonsense and doctor babble.

“It’s not unusual for a girl so young to be institutionalised after such an event,” she commented, more to herself than to her audience. “But there are other treatments available, ones that should’ve been attempted before such an extreme measure.” She looked over at him from above the folder. “I notice her file doesn’t mention any of them.”

“You’ll have to discuss that with the Director of PV, should you take the case.”

“Why me, Detective?” she asked, eager for the answer. She wasn’t sure why it mattered to her. “There are many other psychologists.”

Matt shrugged. “I heard that you were the best in town and this girl deserves the best.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow at his comment and wondered who the girl was to him that he would seek out a private psychologist rather than just a government appointed one. While she wouldn’t say she was the
best
, she was certainly up there in the top ten and she would need every ounce of that ability to help Hallie.

It was no wonder the girl had been taken to hospital. After skimming through the rest of her file, Natalie thought Hallie was lucky she hadn’t ended up insane. Although the jury was still out on that one, and Natalie wouldn’t know for sure what she was dealing with until she had had a chance to speak with the girl and determine for herself just how bad of shape Hallie was in.

She thought back to when she was twelve, still trying to figure who she was and what she would be. She even admitted to herself that in her earlier years she’d been a dreamer all the way. But that was all she had back then—dreams. She tried to imagine witnessing such a violent double homicide, as Hallie Walker had, and she shivered. While her childhood hadn’t been a walk in the park, Natalie seriously doubted her ability to survive and thrive after such an event.

She knew she’d been weak, but the truth was she hadn’t known any better, hadn’t known what laid beyond the farm gates. Her ignorance had almost been her downfall. She shook her head in an effort to clear the memories she had tried so hard to repress and turned her attention to the detective.

“Who is Hallie Walker to you, Detective? Surely she is more than just a witness or a survivor?”

“No, you’re right, she’s more. She’s remarkable. The first time I saw her was that night and I was so impressed by her courage, her veracity, that if I can do something now to help her, I will,” Matt declared.

Natalie tapped her manicured finger gently against the folder while she thought. It would be a tough case. She wasn’t completely certain she could do anything to help. Cases like Hallie’s were difficult, especially if the patient didn’t want to help herself. Natalie wasn’t sure but she suspected this was the reason Hallie was still at Paradise Valley.

Having made her decision, she glanced over her desk to the sinful looking man who despite his grungy appearance set her heart pounding and her stomach fluttering. She took a moment to soak in this new experience before speaking. She realised she must have taken more than a moment when she saw Matt raise an eyebrow at the same time one side of his mouth lifted. She blushed profusely and Matt laughed. The sound sent a thrill of pleasure through her body. She frowned at the unexpected discovery and cleared her voice before rushing on.

“Leave me the file, Detective, and I’ll take it home and study it. If it’s convenient for you, I’d like to meet with Miss Walker tomorrow.”

Matt nodded his assent. “Thank you. There is a complete work up on her, her parents, and the murders along with some photos and a few pictures the hospital thought you might like to see.”

Natalie stood and made her way around her desk to sit on the edge of the dark stained wood. Her navy skirt tightly closing around her thighs as she crossed her ankles.

“You do realise that with trauma such as Miss Walker has experienced, the chances she will remember anything is slim to none. When the brain goes into shock, it will protect itself usually with loss of memory,” she warned, making sure he knew the risks. She was good at her job but wasn’t a miracle worker.

“I understand. She gave us an explicit account last time around. We’re just hoping for some information and clarification. Even if she can’t help us, she needs to be helped. I owe her that.”

Natalie let out a deep breath. “I hope I can be of some assistance, Detective, and I hope you get your man.”

“I’m sure you’ll do all you can, Doctor, and that’s all anyone can ask.”

He stood, bringing his body closer to her, filling the small gap between them. Natalie felt the heat before she promptly stepped away, making the action seem more like courtesy rather than anxiety. She may be experiencing some serious attraction to him but that didn’t mean she trusted him and her safety was her number one priority.

She walked over the door and waited for him to join her.

“Good day, Detective,” she said, holding out her hand.

Matt took the offering and shook her hand. “Doctor Miller,” he said softly as there was a light tap on the door and it immediately opened to reveal a man in his late twenties standing in the entrance with a bewildered look on his face. He glanced from one to the other before his gaze settled on Natalie.

“Henry,” Natalie said calmly, her hand still entwined with Matt’s.

Once more, Henry Rellet’s stare drifted over Matt and down to their connected hands. Natalie followed his gaze and suddenly realised she was practically holding hands with the detective. She extradited her hand quickly as Henry spoke.

“Doctor Miller. I thought we had an appointment. Have I mixed up my days?”

“No, Henry, not at all. In fact, you’re right on time,” she said, glancing at the delicate watch on her wrist. “The detective was just leaving.”

Natalie gave Matt a slight push towards the door.

Henry frowned. A look of concern crossed his face. “You’re all right, Doctor Miller, aren’t you?”

Natalie nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Case related,” she added. “Please take a seat, Henry. I’ll be right with you after I see the detective out.”

Henry nodded and moved towards a chair. Natalie stepped into the doorway of her office. Outside in the waiting room, her receptionist, Lara, was busy answering the phone. As with her office, the outer room was also decorated in soft tones of cream, all designed to put her patients at ease. A leather sofa was positioned by a large window and looked out over the city. From the angle, the harbour was visible in the distance, the bright sun glistening on the water. A glass coffee table sat just in front of the sofa and several recent magazines had been neatly arranged on the surface.

“Please call me when the meeting is arranged.”

“I will.” Matt leaned close to her and she almost stopped breathing. “And it’s Matt,” he told her as he handed her his card.

Natalie nodded her assent. She liked the idea of being forewarned when it came to him. She didn’t want to be surprised by his presence again. As if reading her mind he gave her a wink and walked away. Natalie stood there in a trance, watching him go. When she finally realised what she was doing, she abruptly turned and went into her office where her patient was waiting.

Chapter 3

After battling with
downtown traffic for an hour, Natalie finally pulled her dark blue Toyota Prius into her driveway and killed the engine. She hated driving during peak hours and usually worked her schedule to avoid the gridlock that happened every morning and evening when the nine-to-fivers were out on the road. Even with the traffic, Natalie found Harbour Bay peaceful and inviting from the first time she had found herself in the growing city at the tender age of twelve. Even in spite of the now rising murder rate, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

During the summer months, tourists flocked to the beach with its gold sand and perfect surfing conditions. Natalie planned to take a few days off to enjoy the season as well. Of all her years living beside the ocean she had never taken the time to stop and feel the sand between her toes. She had always been busy with other things, such as school and study or stressing over opening her own practice. Now that her life appeared to be in order she was going to do all the things she missed out on doing earlier. To take the time to really appreciate everything the town had to offer.

While Harbour Bay boasted country living it was home to around three hundred thousand people, situated on the southern New South Wales coast. It was one of Australia’s larger cities and prided itself on its hominess, bringing in many families who had tired of Sydney which was just a few hours’ drive north. The city was nestled against the sea-green harbour where on New Year’s Eve it was lit up by spectacular fireworks, the colourful display sparkling brightly on the bay.

Natalie’s own home was on the outskirts of town, in a quiet neighbourhood filled with mostly working households. A few children rode past on their bicycles. She watched one girl who had little multi-coloured tassels on her handlebars and an exuberant smile on her face. That was what childhood was supposed to be about. Fun and excitement. Not fear and pain. Natalie envied the girl for a moment. If she ever had children—and that was a giant
if—
she would make sure her children knew they were safe and loved. She would ensure they never knew terror and the uncertainty of what the next day would bring.

Natalie looked out her front windscreen at her house. She had bought the two-storey family home after her practice had first made a nice profit. She had seen the house advertised and fell in love. No other house would do after that and she had paid asking price for it. But never once had she regretted that decision.

The outside was made of a light cream brick. The trims a sky blue that complemented the deep hue of the tiled roof. The front porch divided the house from the lush green lawn her elderly neighbour generously mowed for her when he did his own garden. She had even noticed he had planted several pansies in the flower bed, giving her garden a bright and colourful makeover. She assumed he also weeded and watered the flowers for her since she never had herself, yet they seemed to be thriving. She made a mental note to do something nice for him. If she had been a culinary person she would have cooked or baked him something delicious but her skills in the kitchen were limited to microwaving.

Inside, the floors were made of blue gum timber and the walls a mocha shade, which was one the reasons she had bought the house. Everything suited her tastes to a T. She had made some upgrades when she had taken over ownership such as renovating the kitchen, main bedroom, and bath. Once a smaller room with just two windows, she had opened up the main exterior wall and had made it into a large glass door with attached balcony. From that position in the house, she could see the ocean. Once the sun went down, Natalie would leave the doors open so she could hear the sounds of the waves crashing against the sand. She found it had a soothing effect on her and after some days it was greatly appreciated.

Natalie gathered up all her file folders from the passenger seat, along with her tote, and juggled them precariously as she made her way up the path to her front door. After struggling somewhat, she finally managed to put her key in the door and opened it.

Standing inside the small foyer, all Natalie could think about was the hot shower waiting for her upstairs. She kicked off her shoes in the hallway and dumped the files and tote on the kitchen bench. Some papers slipped from a file on the way down and fell to the floor. Groaning, she bent down and picked them up before placing the loose sheets on top of the folders.

She opened her freezer door and pulled out the first frozen dinner she found. After she ripped open the box, she punctured the plastic film on top with a fork and placed it into her microwave before pressing several buttons on the front panel, somehow making the action look impressive and complicated at the same time.

Natalie made her way to her bedroom, pulling her clothes off as she went. Finally naked, she stepped into the shower. She stood under the hot water and let the heat pull the day’s tension from her body.

She timed her shower just right, getting out minutes before she pruned. She dried herself and walked into her bedroom. Natalie slipped on her fuchsia coloured flannel pyjama pants and a pale pink singlet top. She walked into her kitchen and pulled out her easy-meal and a bottle of Shiraz. She poured herself a glass before returning the bottle of wine to the refrigerator.

Natalie settled herself comfortably on her sofa and dug into her dinner, the TV on, the channel tuned to some hip show. She wasn’t interested in whatever was playing, she only had it on for background noise. She hated the dead silence that followed her everywhere inside the house. The large ceilings made every step she took echo eerily.

Natalie wondered again about getting an animal but vetoed the idea immediately. As much as she would like the company, the thought of caring for something other than herself gave her the chills. She had enough trouble keeping herself fed and healthy to worry about another living creature. Besides, pets need love and she just didn’t think she had any to give out, having been often accused of being a cold, heartless bitch. She had shrugged then and she shrugged now. Water off a duck’s back. It was just one less person she had to play nice to. Once men learned her iciness wasn’t just an act, she was mostly left alone, which was just as she liked it—or at least liked most of the time. Nights like tonight she wished she had someone to share her day’s activities with. Years of bottling up her emotions had left her teetering on the edge, just about ready to jump off.

She finished her tasteless meal, leaving the empty tray on her kitchen bench. She would take it out to the recycling bin later. Sitting down on the bar stool beside the island bench in her kitchen, Natalie pulled the files closer and got comfortable. She took a deep sip of her wine and waited for it to seep into her bones. After flicking through the file over the past few hours she knew she wouldn’t like what was written deep within the pages. Every time she picked up Hallie Walker’s file she shivered, an involuntary action she couldn’t control. It was as if she somehow, deep down, sensed the evil there. The hairs on her arms lifted and goose bumps broke out all over her body.

Rubbing a hand up and down her arm, she picked up the crime scene photos of Ian Walker. Her stomach showed signs of revolting, her meal preparing to make a second showing. She closed her eyes and tried to push the image from her mind in hopes of settling her churning tummy. After several deep, calming breaths Natalie steeled herself against the horror, pain, and fear she saw in the photos. It was hard to believe the person in the crime scene photo had once been a happy family man, trying to make the world a better place.

To think of what he and his family had endured that night brought tears to Natalie’s eyes and made her want to lash out at everything and everyone. How could things like that happen? How could anyone allow it? The main thing she wondered was how anyone could do those horrific things to another human being. What the hell was wrong with the person who could easily, without compunctions, wipe out an innocent family? She knew what it was like to be alone, with no help nearby and unlikely to arrive. She also knew the feeling of helplessness well, had seen firsthand someone give up their life, only to keep on living as a shell of their former self. Natalie detested above all else that such a wonderful loving family could be taken away when there were so many others out there that didn’t deserve to go unpunished.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the photos once more through watery eyes. She tried to look at them objectively as she moved on to the photos of Missy—tried to be a casual observer but she could sense the raw pain and fear emanating from the glossy prints. She thought of the twelve-year-old who had witnessed the horrendous double murder before being chased and terrorised herself. She had read earlier that had Hallie Walker not fallen into the river she might not have survived.

Natalie took another deep breath, this time not to settle her stomach. Hallie’s circumstances brought about memories of Natalie’s own childhood. Of the constant fear she had endured, wondering that at any time the breath she took could be her last. Knowing that just being there, living, breathing was enough reason to hide—to become invisible. Over the years Natalie had become quite good at that.

Her hand shook as she turned the page to read the police report on Missy Walker’s death. She was pretty sure she had the gist of it but professionalism drove her on. There could be a vital piece of information within the report that could help with her treatment of the woman’s daughter.

One thing was for certain—the case was hitting real close to home. Natalie’s own personal demons had begun to rear their ugly heads. She reached for her wine glass and took another sip. She would probably need to drink the entire bottle before she would be able to get any sleep tonight.

Natalie stared down at the police artist sketch of the Butcher as described by Hallie. The sketch was detailed; the twelve-year-old had been very observant. Beside the original were many copies, each with an artist’s representation of what he would look like with facial hair or clean shaven, fair haired or streaks of grey. There even was a slightly aged rendering and another with alterations that would require the skills of a plastic surgeon. Her first thought was he didn’t look like a serial killer. But then again neither did Ted Bundy. He was what he was and there was no mistaking that fact. The man in the drawing was a cold blooded murderer with countless people’s blood all over his hands and conscience, if he even had such a thing.

In the back of her mind under the haze of wine, she could see the night unfolding as if watching a horror film—one she couldn’t fast-forward or switch off.

She could see Hallie, scared and alone running through the woods. She tripped and stumbled a few times before righting herself. The smell of blood filled Natalie’s nostrils and suddenly she felt like she was being pulled inside her mind. Her hands were flailing about in an attempt to steady her swaying body as brisk cold air surrounded her. She nervously licked her lips as she looked around. She wrapped her arms around her slim body, protecting her. Large tree trunks surrounded her, almost suffocating her. She could feel her hair growing damp from the moisture in the air. Natalie made herself take a step.

Beneath her feet, branches snapped and dried leaves crumpled. The sounds echoed through the night mixing in with the sound of feet moving quickly over the undergrowth. Natalie’s head snapped around, following the hurried footsteps. Up ahead, through the tree line she could a young Hallie Walker running for her life. Natalie began to follow her. The girl’s head swung wildly around as she ran, searching for an escape. Natalie yearned to help her, to grab hold of her small body and hug her with all her might. To protect her and fight all her demons for her.

Natalie moved faster, tracing Hallie’s movements. It was all so real. She swore she could feel the ground beneath her feet. Could smell the woods and hear the river in the distance. Above her the moon lighted her path. She reached out and skimmed her fingertips over the rough bark of the closest tree. The texture grated her soft skin causing her to look down at her fingers in surprise.

She tried to clear her head. Was she dreaming? Had she fallen into a deep wine induced sleep in the kitchen? Had reading Hallie Walker’s file made her susceptible to this hallucination? Had she noticed something within the file that her subconscious recognised but couldn’t compute? Was this her mind’s way of sorting through the information searching for an answer? She had no idea. The questions danced about her head. All she knew was that without any doubt she was absolutely not standing in the woods. No matter what her senses told her.

Natalie watched Hallie trip and land on the mouldy forest floor and her heart broke. She stepped closer into Hallie’s line of sight, the desire to intercede becoming more insistent.

“Hallie,” she whispered and her hand reached out towards the frightened girl. Hallie looked up. Her eyes wide. Her red hair danced about in the breeze. Her small body quivered in the night. She reminded Natalie of a hunted animal, which as she thought about it, she was.

Natalie looked in Hallie’s liquid gold eyes and she felt cold. The girls face was as white as a geisha’s. Her chest rose and fell with each tired breath. But Hallie showed no sign she saw Natalie, the girl looking straight through Natalie as if she wasn’t there. Natalie frowned. She was after all a psychologist and it certainly didn’t require one to decipher her dreams. It was clear she wanted to save Hallie, save her from the Butcher—from the life that would follow her from this moment on. She wondered why she couldn’t.