Chapter 15
Jemma
For once, Jemma was glad of Dad’s tendency to be overbearing.
Although it meant he couldn’t claim insurance, he’d given in to her pleas to not immediately involve the police, but he’d ordered the restaurant closed for a few days and for her to message Gerard that she’d be working out-of-office.
Then he’d whisked her away to the river.
Jemma hadn’t so much as poked her nose beyond the door for the last three days. Instead, she’d slept for a ridiculous number of hours, as though her body had closed down, demanding she catch up on the weeks of broken sleep.
Now, though, she would have to find a way to persuade Dad that giving in to his protective parenting had been a momentary aberration on her part.
‘I’m heading back to the city this morning,’ he announced, placing a plate of frollini alongside their coffees on the small dining table as Jemma stared through the window.
The twisted branches of the willows framed the bronze mirror of the river like something out of a fairytale.
‘I’m going to look at having a surveillance system put on the cafe and the trattoria. ’
Her stomach lurched at the realisation that one of her avenues of investigation had been abruptly terminated: there was no footage of her stalker.
‘Do you need anything else picked up from the apartment?’
She snorted. ‘I reckon you and Uncle Dan pretty much cleaned it out already. It’s going to take me forever to cart everything back.’
‘That won’t be anytime soon, if you don’t contact the police,’ Dad said, offering the plate of Italian shortbreads like a bribe.
‘You know I’m a bit old to be told what to do?’
‘Have you not met my mother?’ Dad gave her a tight grin, lines of concern etched around his eyes. ‘I’ll be telling you what to do until the day I die. In fact, I’ll probably leave lengthy instructions for you to enjoy after the event.’
She huffed, but secretly drew his over-protectiveness around her shoulders like a blanket. ‘I’ll look forward to the read. However, you do realise my career is in the city?’ Like Nonna said, life was in the city.
‘And your stalker is in the city.’
‘Jeez, Dad, no need to put it like that!’
‘I thought you were a fan of blunt facts. You’re not going anywhere … except for the police.’
‘I can’t, I’ve told you that. It’s probably mixed up with my work.
’ The rock through the window had made it clear that both of Tien’s theories about the notes were way off the mark, so that left only Wilkins and, more obscurely, Kain.
‘Three strikes, you’re out’ didn’t seem to fit her situation with either man …
but it did seem far more threatening than the other messages.
Which could mean that her initial suspicion about Wilkins was correct, and Rohan had told the truth: Wilkins was dangerous, intent on punishing her even as he was paying her.
But she had no way for sure to know whether it was him, and she couldn’t risk her job throwing around accusations.
‘You’ve pissed someone off, they’re dangerous, you need to involve the police.’ Dad punctuated each of the phrases with a chop of his left hand into the palm of his right. ‘I bloody well told you not to go into criminal defence.’
‘So I should spend all my time behind a desk, drafting wills?’
‘Yeah, spend your time safely behind a desk,’ he yelled, getting to his feet to pace the small room.
‘That’s not what I want from life.’
‘Being stalked is what you want? Have you thought that maybe you won’t have a life if you don’t get this sorted?’
‘Calm down. It’s just intimidation. I know how to handle it,’ she lied.
‘You’ve said before that you can work from home,’ Sam said quietly. She had a knack of blending unobtrusively into the background and Jemma wondered whether, at some stage, it had been a necessity that she be unnoticed and unnoticeable. Sam waved a hand at the cosy room. ‘So this is now home.’
The temptation flared within Jemma before Sam had even finished speaking. It would be so good to allow herself just a few more days of leaving her guard down.
‘Pierce and I’ll move onto Pelicanet for a while. You can have our room and make yours into an office,’ Sam continued.
Jemma shook her head. If she sacrificed her independence for safety, it would be a slippery slope. ‘Thanks, Sam, but my job is as much about presence and networking as it is about winning cases.’
‘Cazzo, Jemma, what is even so great about this job?’ her father blazed. ‘For the last ten years you’ve been overworked, underpaid and, thanks to your boss, you’re on cases you don’t even want to handle.’
‘That’s not all on Gerard. It’s cab-rank rule, once the case has moved beyond initial acceptance and is assigned a barrister: we’re obliged to accept cases in our field and not discriminate against clients. Besides, if I want to have any chance of making partner, I have to play the game.’
Jemma felt a brief flare of guilt as she noticed the whitened knuckle of Sam’s tightly clenched hands.
‘But removing yourself from the situation—in this case, Adelaide—is the only way you can make sure things won’t escalate,’ Sam said, her voice tremulous.
As Dad dropped a reassuring hand on his partner’s shoulder, Jemma threw her hands wide in an emphatic shrug.
Just what did Sam expect from her? Jemma had promised herself long ago that she’d be the best at whatever she did.
She would dress the best, perform the best, be paid the best. Never again would anyone get to laugh at her or judge her for factors beyond her control, because she wouldn’t allow anything to be beyond her control.
Running away from this wasn’t an option.
She forced herself to soften her tone, though.
‘The practicality of working out-of-chambers depends on where I’m up to with my cases.
I’ve got meetings with the briefing solicitors, clients, attendance in court.
But if I’m elbow deep in research and paperwork, sure, I can do that remotely, providing I have access to the files.
’ She rubbed her brow as she realised she was actually calculating how much time she could spend out of the office.
Out of Adelaide. She was letting Sam get into her head; she couldn’t allow a handful of threatening notes to steal everything she had worked for.
Sam stood to refill their cups from the moka pot used to brew the strong coffee on the stovetop. ‘So that’s easy. When you need to be in the city, Pierce or I will come with you.’ Her tone was suddenly surprisingly resolute.
‘What?’
Sam shrugged. ‘It’s not ideal, and there might not be much safety in numbers, but it certainly can’t hurt to surround you with family. And friends,’ she added, her cheeks pinkening, as though second-guessing her intimation that she was family.
‘I’m not having both of you in danger!’ Dad slammed a hand on the table. ‘Jemma, this is ridiculous. I didn’t mind blowing off the insurance claim and paying for the damage, but I’m not prepared to risk your safety. Either of you. You have to go to the police.’
‘It’s not up to you, Pierce,’ Jemma fired back.
‘Besides, maybe the message wasn’t even directed at me.
It’s not like I’m the most likely candidate in the family for a little retribution, is it?
’ She was throwing Dante under the bus, but, hell, her uncle had been getting away with pretty well everything short of murder.
‘And the other two notes?’ Dad’s voice was tight.
‘Circumstantial evidence. Not worth the paper they’re written on.’ Her joke fell flat. ‘Look, I have a career, and caving to this random intimidation is exactly what Rohan needs to prove that I don’t have what it takes to make partner—’
‘Not everything is about your damn job!’
She startled as her father raised his voice, but quickly regained her composure. ‘Oh, but it is,’ she retorted. ‘I’ve studied and worked my whole life to get where I am.’
‘No, you did that to get into law, not to get where you are.’
She took a mouthful of water, then sipped her coffee.
Although she’d happily drink the Australian way at work—big cups, often left sitting on the side of her desk for hours—with family, she honoured the traditions: cleansing her palate with a small sip of water, then drinking the shot of coffee in no more than four savoured mouthfuls.
Also, she needed to take the time to cultivate her response, before she really let fly.
‘I’ll do whatever I think is best. It’s my life, Pierce.’
‘It’s also your grandparents’ lives now, too, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
She almost dropped her cup.
‘When did you become so selfish that you lost sight of the fact that not everything is about you?’
‘Shh, Pierce,’ Sam soothed. She took the cup from Jemma’s nerveless hand.
‘Jemma, sometimes you can get so wrapped up in just trying to keep your head above water, it can take a while to realise that you might not be the only person affected. But perhaps Pierce is right, it would be best to take this to the police?’
Jemma’s lips were numb and her hands clammy.
Uncle Dan had been—unsurprisingly—less than keen to get the authorities involved, and it had been easy to side with him, thinking only of how best to lessen any adverse career impact.
And that made her no better than him. Dad was right: she couldn’t risk going anywhere near her grandparents—but for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what she should do.
She shook her head. ‘This just doesn’t make sense: I haven’t done anything.’
Sam gave a sad huff. ‘It doesn’t always have to be something that was your fault. But your dad’s right: until you decide how to tackle this, you need to stay here. You’ll be safe in Settlers Bridge.’