A matter of pride

Chapter 10

What Dillon wanted to do was to keep pacing around the house, making laps from the kitchen to the lounge room and back again, but his leg was hurting too much and Lizzy had already told him off twice for trying to do more than his body was capable of. They'd been getting along fine at first and Dillon had actually been delighted at being able to tell someone about his night with David, though he tried not to go in to too many details. He'd been giddy and slightly overwhelmed by the emotions flooding his mind and making him dreamy and excited by turns. He and David'd had a morning to almost rival the night before and he'd still felt loose limbed and post-orgasmic hours later when Lizzy stopped by with lunch, so he'd told her everything.She'd been equally excited of course, wanting to hear all the details, but his happiness and confidence had come crashing down when she happened to mention that she hadn't expected to see Dillon looking so content, given David's phone call to her that morning."But, but why would he call you?" he asked for at least the fifth time, though by the way she rolled her eyes Lizzy would probably say the hundredth. "What? Does he think I'm a child that needs to be, to be coddled? Does he really think I can't look after myself? That I need you coming to check on me everyday?""He called me because I told him to," Lizzy said with the forced patience of someone who had been repeating herself for as long as Dillon had been asking the question. "Call me at the first sign of trouble, I told him. Any time, day or night, if Dillon's not doing well, call me. That's what I told him. You can't get mad at him for doing what I asked him to, not when he was worried about you.""But I'm fine," Dillon tried to insist, which was difficult considering how tight his chest was feeling just then.Lizzy just gave him a look. It was one she had used to give when he turned up to tutorials looking like death after a night spent cramming desperately for that day's test and practically vibrating from caffeine. She'd mothered everyone in their tutor group, so much so that they'd nicknamed her 'The Hen' but Dillon didn't want her thinking he couldn't take care of himself. He'd moved away from the city for a lot of reasons but among them had been a desire to take back some control of his life. He'd spent too long at the mercy of nurses as he was recovering and needed to relearn how to take care of himself, and how to be alone. Over the last six months he'd learnt how to wake up alone each morning, how to sit and drink his coffee on the back porch with only the magpies for company, and how to fall asleep at night with no one to snuggle up to when the house creaked and the bad dreams struck. He'd figured out the bus timetable and how to get to the grocer's and the cafe and the doctor's office. He'd learnt to manage and he thought he'd done a damn fine job of it actually, but the few people he'd let in to his little world hadn't been impressed, they'd pitied him, and it rankled horribly."Will you just sit down for a bit and let me explain, please?" Lizzy asked him with a sigh and Dillon turned to see that she actually looked a lot more worn out than usual. He had been about to tell her that he really didn't anyone coddling him, but bit his tongue and sat down obediently instead, worried that there was something more going on in her life that he didn't know about."What's wrong, Liz?" he asked, taking her hand. Her usually strong grip was lacking and she'd suddenly turned away from him, as if she regretted showing him that she wasn't as capable and in control as she seemed. "Lizzy, please tell me what's wrong?"She suddenly looked terrified and Dillon shuffled closer, cursing himself for being so self-centered. Lizzy had been kind and generous to a fault while he had done very little to be worthy of such friendship."The thing is... Bec and I..." she let out a huff and frowned at the floor as if trying to put her words in the right order in her mind before she tried to say them. "I didn't want to burden you with all this but the fact is... I bought her a ring this morning. And I swore the woman in the shop to secrecy but it's Margret and she's a regular at the bowls club and there is only so long before she tells everyone what I've done so I need to propose to Bec as soon as humanly possible but I have no idea how to do that!"Dillon was floored. He stared at her, mouth open, blinking furiously, trying to process what she'd said and how he was supposed to feel and drawing a blank. Lizzy was going to ask Bec to marry her. Lizzy was going to marry Bec. They were going to exchange rings and kiss and live happily ever after. Just like he'd thought he and Sam would. That was his first thought. Then a smile began to creep on to his face, without him even realising, and tears sprang to his eyes, because she deserved to be happy and he was so glad that she was.Right at that moment of course, she looked terrified and Dillon let out a laugh that was almost a cackle as he watched her face, especially her surprise when he leant forward to hug her."Oh, you two are going to make the sweetest little married couple," he told her as he held her tight, but Lizzy shook her head and pulled back, looking almost frantic with worry."Not if I can't figure out how to actually ask her, Dill. I need to ask her and I have no idea how. What do I do?"Dillon bit his lip to keep from grinning at her distress and shook his head. "I am the wrong person to ask, I'm afraid. My experience of dating and partners is limited and my experience in proposing is non-existent. Sorry, Love." Lizzy groaned but Dillon couldn't keep his smile from returning. He didn't often get to see Lizzy like this and it made a pleasant change, especially when he saw that beneath her dramatic insistence that she didn't know what to do, she was humming with excitement. "How did you two get together?""Well," she blushed. "I went to work for the park, but the pay's rubbish and I suddenly found myself with only two days when I'd originally been promised four and Bec was my supervisor there, because she was the only other person there, and she offered me some work with her other business, catching snakes." Dillon grinned hearing her state it all so matter-of-factly and wondered how much blushing and stuttering had been part of those early conversations. "I was absolutely smitten from the first time I saw her," Lizzy continued, "she's like a... a vengeful pixie, you know? Like Tinkerbell but in plaid," she blushed, "but I didn't know how to ask her if she was, you know, gay. And so I was dropping all these hints and it turned out she was also dropping all these hints because she wasn't sure whether I was in to girls, and neither of us were getting anywhere and it was just miserable, for about four months. Four whole months, can you believe it?"Dillon thought back to the fact that he'd spent last night making love to a man he'd only met four days ago and shook his head. He'd never moved so fast before but even his slowest courtship and flirting period hadn't been that long."So what happened?""Oh, she invited me over for dinner and a movie," Lizzy explained. "And I didn't realise it was actually a date. I hoped it was but didn't really believe it could be, you know? So I got myself all dressed up, best flannel, tightest jeans, a bra with an underwire in it," she grinned at Dillon, aware of her own ridiculous behaviour, and he could only return the grin and shake his head at her, totally engrossed in the story. "So I get there and she opens the door wearing this low cut blouse and looking absolutely stunning and I was trying really hard not to stare because I didn't want to be a creep if this was just a friendly dinner and maybe she didn't realise that she was wearing something really sexy but... then she led me in to the kitchen and poured me a glass of wine... and after the third glass I finally got up the courage to tell her that I really, really liked her. In a gay way. And she...""She what?" Dillon demanded, desperate to know what had happened next even though he knew that it must have worked out if they'd been living together for five years."She kissed me," Lizzy said dreamily. "And didn't stop for about four hours. I didn't see any of the film. I don't even remember what it was. All I remember is Bec telling me she liked me, in a lesbian way, and kissing my brains out. I wish I'd been brave enough to tell her sooner."Dillon wet his lips and stared at the love he saw in his friend's eyes. He wasn't sure he felt that with David but he certainly felt something. And they'd managed to make it past the point of confessing their mutual attraction, which was apparently a big milestone, but Dillon didn't think they were ready for much else. He'd learnt quite a bit about the man over the last few days, and he definitely liked him, but there was still so much that he didn't know, and things that he needed to know more about before he was willing to really let himself fall in love. David seemed to have a protective streak that bordered on possessive and Dillon wasn't sure how comfortable he was with that, but he could sort out those feelings later, he decided, when he wasn't trying to plan the perfect proposal for his friend to the woman of her dreams."Well," he said after some thought. "I definitely think you should propose sooner rather than later. You two are made for each other; you don't want to waste any more time.""So I should take a leaf out of your book then?" she asked with a waggle of her eyebrows. "I don't think we've ever tried doing it in the shower and you guys hopped to it in the first twenty-four hours. Maybe I should try that? Maybe I should propose to Bec after a sexy scrub?""No," Dillon told her drolly, trying not to rise to the bait even as his cheeks began to burn a bright red. "I wouldn't recommend it. Not unless you both want to end up cold, wet and with soap in your eye. Skip the shower, kiss her, tell her you love her, ask her to marry you."Lizzy smiled at him and Dillon wondered why she seemed to look so proud, like he'd done something worthy of her approval."I might give her a quick call now, actually. Ask her what she wants for dinner. D'you mind?"She was already on her feet with her mobile in hand and Dillon shook his head and smiled as she headed out to the back porch to make her call. He took out his own phone and looked at the screen. There hadn't been any texts from David so far and he debated as to whether he should be the first to send one. He didn't want the man to think he was easy, or that he belonged to David somehow, but he also felt an overpowering urge to make contact with him, even just to say hello. So he did, and hoped it didn't come across as needy, because he wasn't sure that he was ready for David to know just how much he did like him.*'Hello. How r things?'David stared at the message and then up at the scene around him. Things were not good. Mark Chen's home looked like the home of a man who intended to return. There were clothes sitting wet in the washing machine and a budgie trilling in a cage in the lounge room. There were photographs on the wall and notes on the fridge and David felt his heart drop like a stone to his stomach. On paper Mark Chen had fit the profile, every profiler who'd looked at the case had agreed, but in reality David just couldn't see it. He should have gone in person to do surveillance on the guy. It didn't matter that it had been something he was rostered on for the very next day, it was too late now and he should have made it a priority. Now Mark Chen was missing and he didn't honestly expect that they'd find him alive."Chen's not our man."Finlay looked up from her notebook in confusion. "How can you say that? There's no evidence either way. What happened to keeping our view wide and considering all options?""No," David shook his head. "There's no evidence of a killer. There's a note on the fridge reminded him of a video call with his son next week. We thought he was estranged from his gay son; our profile was built on that fact. And there's a flier in his bedroom, did you see it? A support group down in the city for people coming out later in life. There is evidence here, but not of a killer."Finlay put her hands on her hips and planted her feet as if expecting a fight but David suddenly didn't have the energy for an argument. It just felt true. And he knew that was no way to run an investigation but this whole case had been a series of dead ends and clues that didn't add up and profiles which should have fit but never did. He'd let his excitement run away with him too many times, thinking he had found the piece that would solve the whole puzzle, and now he just felt old and tired."But we know he's on the dating site," Finlay pointed out. "This other stuff might be a cover, or his way of finding out more about his potential victims. You said we were looking for someone who pretended to be gay to lure his victims. He still fits."In reply David walked across to where Chen's laptop sat open on the table, and pressed the mouse pad with his finger. If he'd had to turn it on he might have run in to trouble, but it was on from the night before and only needed to be woken up. When Finlay came to look the page of the dating site was displayed and they read through it together, seeing the various conversations and dates, the connections that had been built. Eventually Finlay sighed and stepped back."He had a date lined up last night," David said with little emotion. "But with who? We entered this house on a suspicion that a crime had been committed but my suspicion now is that Chen was the victim.""You think he's dead?"David didn't want to answer. He'd been so focused on Dillon and the likelihood that he would be the next victim that he hadn't considered who else might be in danger. And now it was too late and another man was dead. Finlay was waiting for an answer but he couldn't give her one and strode out to the front of the house, calling together the uniform officers harshly, the rage within like a gnawing hunger. Good, he thought. Rage would keep him moving at least."Ladies and gentlemen, listen up," he said, just loud enough for the officers and not the curious neighbours who had started to appear on the footpath. "Some of you may know me, but for those who don't, my name is Detective Sergeant Sharma and I am heading up this investigation. And I need this place searched from top to bottom. Anything suspicious comes straight to me. And I want the neighbours interviewed, along with anyone Mark Chen had regular contact with. As of now we are treating this as a suspicious disappearance, possibly connected to the other deaths we've been investigating over the last few weeks. So," he paused to let the murmur die down before continuing. "We're also going to need a team out searching too. We need people on the ground searching anywhere a body's likely to be dumped.""That's pretty vague, sir," one of the officers said with just a tinge of annoyance. "Don't you have any more for us to go on? I thought we were watching this guy as a suspect, not a victim? Now you're saying we're looking for a body?"David's heart had already been in his stomach but now it seemed to sink deeper, a burning coal, eating him out from the inside. But they were right, and they deserved to know as much as he could tell them."It's possible that we got it wrong. That I got it wrong. It happens. And I will no doubt deal with the fall out from that. But right now we have to work fast to find out what's happened to Chen. So far our killer has dumped his victims close to where he's killed them, as far as we can tell, so the search team should start here and fan out. The killer seems to favour construction sites, derelict buildings and..." he shivered, as if he'd suddenly been doused in icy water. The run off from last night's storm was rushing down the gutter beside him, carrying twigs and leaves and other debris along with it, and somewhere in his brain it seemed to fit. "...and rivers. We'll need to do a thorough search of the rivers and waterways and bridges. Especially since last night's storm will be moving things out to sea more quickly than it otherwise might. Coogan Creek needs to be a priority. Detective constable Paget will assign you your tasks," he nodded toward Port Coogan's resident plain-clothes officer. "I'll be going back over the scene at the pub but my phone will be on and everything you find must come through me. I'm sick of being given the run around by this bastard. So it's time to take him down."There were several nods but some of the faces looking back at him were still skeptical and he didn't blame them, but he didn't have time to convince them either and walked swiftly down to Finlay's car, hoping she was following him or he'd look a right idiot. He felt sick, and resisting the urge to pull at his hair or kick the car was getting beyond his control, but he couldn't show that sort of weakness. He had a job to do. Last night he had lost control for the first time in so long, allowing himself to be soft and give his emotions free reign, but he couldn't let it bleed in to his working life or he'd never find the bastard who was running around the countryside garroting gay men.Finlay arrived at the car at a trot with a questioning look but David couldn't explain. His mind had slipped back to Dillon despite every effort to keep his mind on the case. He'd never been so overwhelmed by anyone and it felt strangely uncomfortable. He took out his phone as Finlay pulled the car away from the curb, to stare at Dillon's message, but he still didn't know how to answer it."Sir," Finlay said cautiously, staring resolutely ahead as rain began to patter lightly on the windscreen. "I know you may not like this, but... if Chen is a victim then our profile for the killer is wrong. Which puts motive in doubt and all our other suspects in doubt-""I know, Finlay," David snapped. "I know. And it'll be my head on the chopping block because of it, even if the top profilers in the country signed off on it, it'll still be me who faces the wrath.""Well that's as may be," Finlay said with a shrug, her face blank as she focused on the road and the rain. "But what I was going to say before you interrupted me was that if the profile's wrong, then we have to consider other suspects. And I know you like him, and I know he seems like a decent bloke, but..." she sighed after a moment, as if hoping David would cut her off so she wouldn't have to say it aloud. "I think Dillon Kelly should be added to our list of suspects.""No," David said vehemently. "No, Finlay. I can see where you're coming from, but no. He doesn't have the strength for it for a start.""It's his leg that's injured, Sharma. And those men were all strangled. You don't need legs for that, and his arms seem plenty strong if you ask me. And I know he's been back to Adelaide since he moved here, to see his doctors he says, but how do we know that if we don't at least check on his dates and alibis?""He's basically terrified of the police, Finlay. D'you know that? Us investigating him will destroy all goodwill that he's regained. He won't trust us and he won't co-operate."He was grasping, he knew he was, but Finlay's words had caught him off guard. She shrugged in response to his words, pulled the car up to the curb in front of the pub, and shut off the engine. They sat in silence, watching the rain get heavier and heavier outside, each waiting for the other to give and eventually Finlay let out an exasperated sigh."It won't be just your arse on the line, you know, if we decide to just ignore a potential suspect. I had to raise this, Sharma, you know that. No matches came back on the prints you took at his place, nothing's surfaced about the stuff he says was stolen, and there wasn't any sign of forced entry. What if it was just a ploy? We need to look at who he's been interacting with to see who else might be at risk.""No," David said softly, "we don't."Finlay gripped the wheel tight, as if it was the only thing stopping her from slapping him, and David didn't blame her, but he couldn't allow those thoughts to take root in his mind, couldn't let it be possible. He would have seen something, surely, to suggest that Dillon wasn't all he seemed. Except, his brain hissed, hadn't it always felt like he couldn't quite get a grasp of the man's character? Hadn't he always seemed a mystery, and changeable? No. He wasn't buying it."We should at least ask him his whereabouts last night, get an alibi," Finlay said quietly. "I'll drop in on him later. You don't need to be there.""But I was there," David blurted out. His chest was heaving like he'd run an obstacle course and Finlay had turned to look at him with wide, confused, eyes. "Last night I was at his house, with him. I was there the whole night, Finlay, and didn't leave his side. I woke up in his bed, beside him. Is that enough of an alibi for you?""Christ, Sharma," she hissed. "D'you know how that's going to look? Bad enough to get off with a victim of a crime you're looking in to, worse to do it with a potential murder victim, but to spend the night with someone who we now have to suspect of murder? Are you fucking kidding me?""He's not a murderer!" David growled through clenched teeth. "Or a suspect. It's ridiculous to even suggest it and you know it as well as I do. And yes, I am aware that I have messed up but his private life does not need to become public knowledge and stuck up on the suspect board back in your office. It just doesn't. I was with him last night; therefore he couldn't have done it, unless you want to suggest that he and I are in it together. Hmm?"He wanted her to argue back. It would give him an excuse to yell and he really wanted to, but she didn't. She just sighed, like she was disappointed, which was infinitely worse than any curse she could throw, and David wanted to shut his eyes and hide. That morning he'd opened his eyes to a world that was bright and full of colour and the potential for so much life. He had been on the precipice, ready to fall in love, head first, and instead seemed to have fallen backwards in to a nightmare. Dillon could not be the killer, he repeated in his head, again and again. Someone who laughed and sighed and stared at him and clung to him and talked back to him and kissed him like Dillon had done could not be a murderer, surely. Except, he realised, that was just the way he felt, it wasn't a fact. And David Sharma didn't use his feelings to solve murders; he used the facts and the bare, honest truth, if only he could find it."Sir," Finlay asked, sounded calmer even though she was still gripping the steering wheel hard enough turn her knuckles white. "What time did you arrive at Dillon Kelly's house?""What?" he blinked."I asked you what time you arrived at Dillon Kelly's house last night, sir? We didn't leave the office until quite late. I didn't meet up with Martin until half past eight. What time did you arrive at Mr. Kelly's house, sir?""It would have been," David paused to think, wanting to get his times straight. "Before nine definitely, but probably after eight thirty. I stopped to pick up dinner. Why?""No one saw Mark Chen after six thirty in the evening. I don't have to include that you and he spent the night together but I am going to write in my report that you came to his house with dinner at some point between eight thirty and nine and that, to our knowledge, Dillon Kelly does not have an alibi for the hours between six and eight.""Finlay," he whispered, not sure what he was asking of her, or what he could say to convince her that she was wrong. "It's not him, Finlay. It's not.""I hope not," she told him with a solemn look. "But I'm not going to ignore a lead just because you're caught up in some romance novel. And I'm not going to put the people of my town in danger anymore either, not if I can help it."She pushed the door open and exited the car before David could respond and he followed her silently. He had a job to do, after all.