11. Iris
Iris
M y phone pings to the sound of a new email. I glance at my phone and my heart races. It’s Ryan. But I can’t read it yet because I’m currently drowning in a pile of snot-soaked tissues that Billy thinks belong on the couch, and not in the bin where I’ve asked him to put them.
He’s at the end of a virus he picked up at—where else—kinder, and is left with the never-ending stream of mucus that always seems to last forever, even once the kids are well again.
I don’t know how teachers do it. I want to vomit and I made the kid.
Imagine if it were someone else’s child? I shudder.
It’s been a long few days at home. I’ve wanted to check in on Eva again but don’t want to take a germy four-year-old to the Cobal Gully Palace.
Worrying about her has kept me up at night.
I can’t stop picturing the way her husband’s hand gripped her arm at the trivia night, his fingers digging into her delicate skin, or the bruises I’d seen.
My offer to do a little digging was genuine but perhaps misleading.
Because regardless of her answer, I was always going to start investigating.
As soon as Sam got home the other night, I confided in him and he said he’d look into it and organise someone to check in on the family.
He’s been so busy lately, I hope he actually does.
I’ve turned up nothing on Matteas with my Google searches.
And I don’t want to bother Ryan with it because he might lose sight of my other task, which is my priority.
Hopefully, his latest emails have answers on Brent, the corrupt bastard.
‘Billy, honey,’ I say, and he looks up from the car track he’s been building.
It’s his new obsession since being at Archie’s, although, our car track is not quite as elaborate as the one he got to play with at the mansion.
He’s asked every day when we’ll be going back to the “castle” to see Archie. ‘Would you like to watch a movie?’
His eyes light up and he jumps on to the couch next to me with more energy than a sick child should have. ‘Mario movie?’ he asks.
‘Sure.’ I set him up with the movie and some fruit, then grab my computer.
The wave of energy passing through my body is electric. This is why I’d always wanted to be a police officer. It’s this thrill of a breakthrough, of finding an answer, of righting a wrong. Ryan’s email sits at the top of my inbox and I hesitate before opening it. What if it isn’t a breakthrough?
I shake it off. Positive thoughts, Iris.
From: [email protected]
Iris,
I remember Brent Dawson, good bloke. I’ve been in contact with his most recent sergeant. Brent has been on indefinite leave for almost two years. He wouldn’t give me a reason why and was pretty pissed about answering that much.
Anyway, I found him and his wife’s last known address and tried to pay them a visit. The house is dark and locked up, no sign of life at all. His wife was very active on social media up until two years ago and there’s been nothing since.
Something happened back then that changed their lives but I don’t know what. I’ll keep looking into it.
Cheers,
Ryan
What the hell? What happened two years ago? It must have been huge if it meant he’s taken indefinite leave and they’ve moved away. My mind races at all the possibilities. Maybe someone found out he’d been working with a criminal organisation. His wife might have left him if she knew too.
Two familiar squeals jolt me from my thoughts, and I’m greeted by Sadie and Lara running in from daycare.
Sam picked them up so I didn’t have to take Billy out.
Though, I would’ve been happy to get them because then I could check out the kinder on the way past and see if Eva’s there.
But I don’t want to push things with Sam when he’s trying to be helpful.
Things have been slowly getting less frosty between us but I’m becoming increasingly annoyed at him. I’m sure he’s hiding something from me about Brent and now with the information from Ryan, I’m even more suspicious about what’s going on.
The twins start arguing over a doll, a gift from a friend back in Rosewood.
They tug it back and forth and I’m surprised its body hasn’t torn in two.
Then it hits me. Rosewood. My beautiful patch of suburban bliss; Rosewood.
The centre of it all. A Rosewood local was found to be part of the trafficking ring two years ago.
Sam got a promotion almost two years ago.
Brent seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth two years ago.
‘Sam?’ I call out. ‘Girls give it to me, no one gets it.’ I take the doll from them and they both start crying.
He pokes his head into the room where Mario is blasting on the television and the girls are screaming in synchronisation. He flinches at the noise. ‘Yeah?’
‘Why did we move here?’
His brow furrows, and he comes into the room, taking the remote and turning the television down as he does. ‘You know why.’
‘Yeah, you got a promotion, apparently.’
He sucks in a breath. ‘Apparently? What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Just too many coincidences. The trafficking ring arrest two years ago. Your promotion almost two years ago. Brent Dawson disappearing two years ago.’
‘Outside,’ he says to me, his mouth forming a straight line.
I follow him to the kitchen.
‘The kids don’t need to hear us argue again.’
‘Do you know where Brent is?’ I ask, ignoring what he’s said.
‘For the sake of our marriage, Iris, stop looking into Brent, stop looking into the trafficking ring. We are safe here. We have a good life here.’
‘Well, lucky us. There are plenty of families losing their children every day.’ The photo of Carly flashes in my head. ‘But we’re okay so I should stop.’
His shoulders sag. ‘You know that’s not what I mean. Leave it to the police.’
I shake my head and go back inside because I have no response to give him that I haven’t already said many times before. The police are seemingly sitting on their hands. That’s the last time I speak to Sam about it, but I’m definitely not stopping.
***
The next day, by some miracle, Billy’s dribbling nose has stopped and I can finally send him back to kinder.
No doubt he’ll be there only a few days before the next illness strikes.
What will the kinder germ lottery give us next—gastro?
Hand, foot and mouth? Maybe head lice? I shudder and scratch my head instinctively.
We drop the girls at daycare before walking over to the kindergarten. Well, I’m walking. Billy is skipping because he’s excited. Apparently staying home with me the past few days has been, “the most boring thing he’s ever done.” Thanks, kid.
Billy spots Archie near the front door of the building and races ahead to see him. They exchange high fives and I glance past them hoping to see Eva. But instead I get a stiff nod from Matteas. Strange, because I rarely see him at drop-off or pick-up. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him here.
I catch up to Billy and help him strap his backpack over his shoulder.
‘Hi,’ I say. ‘No Eva today?’
Matteas smiles. ‘She’s not well today.’
‘Oh no, nothing serious I hope? Billy just got over a cold.’
He looks down at Archie and hesitates before answering. ‘No, she’s fine. A cold too.’
Matteas puts his hands in his pockets and turns his body slightly as if to indicate this conversation is over.
I take the hint but my gut tells me he’s lying. Today will be my first chance to do a little digging on Matteas away from the computer screen.
The kids enter their room, and Billy doesn’t even wave goodbye. He sprints in without a care.
Back outside, Matteas gets into a big black Mercedes SUV and I follow him out onto the main road in my own car, trailing a little way behind.
I can only refer to movies when it comes to trailing a car.
I didn’t have any experience at the academy or my brief time on the job.
But a big SUV is a win for me. I can see the top of his car, even with two cars between us.
The cops in the movies like to put a vehicle or two between themselves and the suspect to avoid suspicion.
A rush of energy flows through me again and I put my sunglasses on, and lower myself in the seat.
I follow Matteas all the way to the city and to a little cafe in Melbourne’s CBD.
I’m stopped at a red light as he pulls into a carpark right out the front and goes inside.
The car behind me begins tooting when the light goes green and I begin to panic about where I’m going to park and what Matteas will do when he’s out of my sight.
I grip the steering wheel tightly, mostly to stop my shaking hands.
I’ve always hated city driving and city parking is even worse.
A little blue parking sign sends me down a ramp and into an underground carpark where the spaces are so tight I can barely get out of my car.
I race back in the direction of the cafe. I run an entire city block before I near the cafe, and I have to stop for a moment to catch my breath before I walk past. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself as a thirty-year-old woman having a heart attack on the side of the road.
I steady my breathing and adjust my sunglasses before casually walking past the cafe.
I glance in and get the absolute fright of my life when I see Matteas talking to a man right on the other side of the window.
I look away, crossing the street and taking a seat at a tram stop.
If he’d seen me, he would definitely come out.
It has to be a good sign that he’s still sitting there talking.
The man opposite him waves his arms around and Matteas’ face is still as he listens to the other man speak.
Then Matteas is shaking his head and standing over him, pointing aggressively at him as he does.
Matteas makes for the door, and I’m tempted to jump up so I can keep following him but I’ve tempted fate enough times today, so I stay put, watching from across the road.
The other man follows a moment later and walks directly towards the tram stop where I sit. There’s no way he could know I was watching, his back was to me. Plus, he wouldn’t have known I was following Matteas.
As he crosses the road and passes on the footpath next to me, I get a good look at him from behind my sunglasses.
It’s the man from the photo. The police officer I know from Rosewood. Brent Dawson. Or as Matteas probably knows him—Eddie.
A sick feeling bubbles in my stomach as I walk back to my car.
Matteas is somehow involved and I took my child to his house.
I swallow back saliva and will myself not to vomit.
I get back to the carpark, climb in my car and start the long drive back to Cobal Gully with even more questions than before.