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  Chapter 4: Rachael

  I sat in the cell, waiting for an impossibly long time, which also gave me an impossibly long time to think about everything that was happening. What the hell was going on with me? What the hell was wrong with me?

  I felt sick. I had killed people, several people, and done it as though it were my second nature. And I still couldn't remember it, or anything from before. Had I killed people before? Was I actually dangerous? Would I hurt other people, or just the ones that tried to hurt me? I hoped Jonah was safe. I nervously stood up and started pacing the room, thinking hard, though I tried not to. I had a burning need to see him, Jonah, to hold him make sure he was alright.

  All of a sudden it was all I could think of. The instinct burned into me from my chest, through my armband up into my head until the strangest sensation of rage took me, and strength ran through my body. I felt as though could bend steel and had to touch the bars. I grasped two of the cell bars and leant my head against them trying to breathe through the moment. I tried to let the rage subside.

  Sam had said he could check on them. I couldn't exactly hold him to it, but he seemed to be a decent person. Seemed to be someone I could count on. Maybe.

  A police officer walked in escorting another young woman in cuffs to a cell down the hall. As I watched him I felt a murderous impulse run through me. There is something truly wrong with me. I couldn't help the feeling, but at least I knew enough to know that wasn't the way to get Jonah back. I would have to keep my thoughts and feelings in check to do what I needed. I made myself sit back on the bed. Scrunching my knees up to my chest, I hugged them to me, my nails digging in to the flesh about my knees.

  The clothes they gave me at the hospital didn't quite fit and the material itched. I sunk my head down ignoring the approaching footsteps. Instead I heard crying, disembodied cries, clanging sounds and a voice call: Rachael. It was hoarse, grating.

  “Rachael.” I heard Sam's voice this time. It brought my head back to focus. “I called someone. They are going to call me back about the boy.” He stood outside the bars, unmoving. He followed through for me. He did what I asked even though he didn't have to. He looked at me pensively. “I was going to send someone around, to get some of your clothes. I couldn't find the key anywhere. Just need your permission to enter.”

  I was about to nod when a man in his late fifties barged in through the door behind Sam. Authoritarian, exuding power, he commandeered the room in an instant.

  “Rachael don't say a word. All he is doing is trying to gain permission to enter your home without a warrant.” These were the first words from the man’s mouth.

  Why would it matter? I wondered. “But there's nothing there to worry about.” I answered the man before looking at Sam who looked sheepish.

  “Thinking of charging her at all is an outstanding blunder.” The impressively dressed man addressed Sam as though incredulous. “I don't think so. When you are ready to give the girl a medal and a ticker tape parade, you be sure to let me know.” A card was thrust at Sam, who barely managed to grab it in time.

  “You're her lawyer?” Sam asked.

  “You are a bit young, maybe you don't know what one looks like yet.” I was affronted by this man. So arrogant. I was just about to speak up against this idiot’s constantly bad mouthing remarks when he turned to address me. I was taken aback by the direct stare and equally direct manner of speech.

  “I am Mr Chulleroy. Mr Pict hired me to represent you. I trust you haven't said much.”

  “There wasn't much to say. I don't remember anything useful.” I stammered.

  “Magnificent. Any minute now, someone should be coming to let you out. You are being released into Mr Pict's care while the investigation continues.

  “How?” I asked, hoping not to sound ungrateful.

  “Yes how?” Cynicism tainted Sam’s voice. It didn’t suit him. “She hasn't even seen the judge yet.”

  Mr Chulloroy didn't even pay Sam the courtesy of looking around to address him. “I know the right people to speak to. Just about every upper socialite knows someone who was in, or been affected by these deplorable murderers and glorified thieves. How much of a hurry do you think they are to put the single mother who saved their skins behind bars?”

  “It's not that clear cut.” Sam protested lightly, causing Mr Chulluroy to finally turn to face him.

  “You and I may know that.” A police officer approached from the doorway as Mr Chulloroy continued to speak. “But politics never play by rules, so turns out we're best friends.” The officer who had arrived unlocked my cell.

  Walking out, Mr Chulloroy took my shoulder, easing me out of the cell, leading me past Sam and out the door. I looked back rather helplessly trying to read his face. It mattered to me that he might be angry, incensed, but instead he looked calm, settled.

  “Remember Rachael,” Mr Chulloroy advised. “They don’t have any physical evidence to link you yet, not until they process what they’ve got. As far as I can see you have just been an unfortunate bystander. It could have been someone else, one of the hostage takers who turned on the others. All you did was defend yourself in the first instance. There is no tape, even though they thought they had you on it. Worst case scenario, we aren’t sure how traumatized you were after your initial attack or abduction….whatever it was you went through. You can’t be helped Culpus Mentis for reacting to a threat the way you did. Remember all that, keep your mouth shut and you will be fine.” With that we exited into the open office and daylight struck me.

  Sabian was there in the front office. He stood when he saw me. I spent an awkward moment staring up at him.

  “Sabian. Thank you but I don't understand why you did this. I can't pay you back.” I wanted to be clear on that fact. No expectations, and I didn’t like the thought of owing him anything, or anyone for that matter. I had become so dependent on others it insulted my senses.

  “I'm alive because of you. Natasha and all the others. I couldn't not do this...”

  Sam arrived through the back doors closing his phone. He watched the two of us curiously. Mr Chulloroy left the front desk where he had been signing out in the visitors book and stood next to Sabian and I.

  Sam had a look on his face. “What, what is it?” I asked.

  “Best to leave communication to me.” Mr Chulloroy informed, but I ignored him stepping forward.

  “It’s about Jonah. What is it?”

  “He’s going back home.” He said but the words didn’t match the relief I felt.

  “Where can I pick him up. Or will he be brought to me?” As I asked, I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “No, he is going to his parents home.”

  “What.” I was astounded.

  “He isn’t your kid Rachael. We found his parents. DNA confirms he isn’t yours and the parents have all the papers.

  “But…” I was lost for words.

  “His name is John.” He continued.

  “He said he was mine.” I rambled, trying to reconcile the feelings of attachment I had for him, knowing he was mine, with what I was being told.

  “Apparently not.” Sam shot a look at Sabian, who put an arm on my shoulder.

  “But how did he end up with me? Do the parents know who I am?” Maybe they had the answers I needed.

  “There was some kind of abduction. There’s some more information, but I don’t have it yet. I can meet you back at the office tomorrow if you want. I’ll go through it with you then.”

  I lost my balance, my legs failing to hold me up. Sabian kept me upright.

  “Thanks – we’ll be there tomorrow, 9:00am?” Mr Chulloroy offered and Sam nodded.

  As the two escorted me out I turned back to Sam for a moment. “Can I see them?”

  Sam looked awkward. “They send their thanks, but don't want to meet you. They just want to move on – that was the message.”

  I let Sabian and Mr Chulloroy lead me outside and had a vague r
ecollection of getting in a car. I stared out the window as we drove, and didn’t even take notice of where we were going.

  We pulled up at the motel I had been staying at. Sabian took the keys out of the ignition and looked at me. I looked blankly back at him. “Rachael. We’ve just come to pick up your things. You can come stay with us until we figure out where to set you up for after all this calms down.” I nodded in response. I was worried that if I tried to speak I might throw up. I got out of the car and he did the same. After getting the spare key from reception, I walked ahead to take us to my room. On entering, Sabian drew the curtains so we could see. My head whirled and I had difficulty breathing. I felt so alone. I saw Jonah’s painting he made me. It showed us walking hand in hand.

  That was it. I couldn’t breath.

  “You alright?” Sabian’s question didn’t help.

  “Just have to get air” I stammered, holding on to the TV table. I saw some coins on the counter and took them up. “ I just need to get a drink. I’ll be fine.” I said escaping through the door. I tried to breath deeply, with a great deal of difficulty. More difficult still was holding back the tears. I reached the drink machine around the corner and trembling fed my coins in. I dropped one, but caught it and put the last one in with relief. As I pressed the button for a Coke, I noticed a homeless woman rested against the wall a few feet away.

  “Got any change?” The woman asked of me.

  “No, I have nothing – just used the last coin here.” I relpied not looking. I picked up the can and braced my back against the wall on the other side of the machine to her.

  “Bitch” I heard her mumble as she turned away. I then heard her make a strange gurgling sound as though she was having a fit. I would have checked to see how she was but I was busy holding myself together. Sinking in to blackness for a moment of peace.

  I pulled myself back to reality when I reached my door again. Sabian had gathered everything – not that there was much – and was waiting.

  “You ready?” he asked me. I couldn’t imagine being less ready.

  “Definitely. Get me out of here.” I responded.

  At Sabian’s house, Natasha was there waiting for us. I was surprised to see the place nearly as clean as the night of the party, floors sparkling, walls repainted. I could smell fresh paint and all the windows were thrown open. Natasha looked less than accommodating, greeting me with little more than a stare. Sabian showed me to a guest room placing my bag on the bed.

  “I realize it’s strange, staying here, but it’s still my home. We’re figuring out what to do with it.”

  “You cleaned it up quickly. It almost looks like nothing happened.” I faced him and looked him over. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. Night approached, and I somehow doubted he would sleep tonight either.

  “I couldn’t stay here if they didn’t. Police took everything they needed, Natasha organized the cleanup. She’s always been on top of things. Everything should be alright here for you. If you want to have a shower, get changed, dinner will be in about half an hour.” Sabian turned to leave.

  “Did she know you were bringing me here?” He paused as I brought up the elephant in the room.

  “She understands…” was all he said.

  Once he left, I picked something out to wear and got undressed for a shower. By the time I turned the taps on I could hear Natasha and Sabian yelling at each other. Why bring her here…why not put her up in a hotel…she bloodied our house… I can’t stay here, not after what happened… Only tonight, then find her somewhere in the morning. You find her somewhere to stay, I’ll find us somewhere…..

  How blissful the water was. I stayed curled up in the bottom of the shower stall for some time after I washed myself cleaner than I ever had been before.

  Dinner was awkward, to say the least. We had started to eat our take away Chinese in silence. Natasha watched me like I was a venomous snake to be feared. After a few minutes, I was grateful she put the news on in the background to fill the empty space. Ridiculously the story about some poor homeless woman being maimed in what I considered my old neighborhood, was actually lightening the situation. I excused myself as early as I could and retreated to bed. I lay awake, as usual, but this time I stared out the window worrying about Jonah. I had a horrible feeling I couldn’t shake. DNA may not lie, but I was supposed to be with him. I was supposed to protect him. I knew that much, and I would find out what the hell had happened tomorrow.

  “I can find my own way you know.” Was all I could find to say to Sabian as we sat in the office, waiting for Sam. Mr Chulloroy was already inside speaking with the police. Sam was also inside and peered out through the slatted blinds from time to time.

  “Relax, I have someone finding an apartment for you. Natasha is having difficulty dealing. A few nights away, she might be able to think more clearly. To be honest, I’m having trouble living there myself. All I can think of is Amber, Rick and Kes.”

  “Where will you go?” I asked, trying to read him.

  “We have a home about an hour from here. Good spot for fishing.” He nodded to himself as though deciding this was a good idea. I wondered if Natasha knew. I supposed as long as they got away from the blood and gore, that was the main thing.

  “Natasha will probably go back overseas.” He sighed.

  “Without you?”

  “Things are a bit tense. They were before. I don’t know what there is left to do.” From the way he spoke he obviously regretted the way things were.

  “Do you love her?”

  “Always have, always will.” Came his confident reply. It made me smile.

  The door to the room ahead of us opened. “Come on in.” Called Mr Chulloroy and we followed. When we were all seated around a table with a TV facing it from one of the walls he further explained the situation. “It seems there was an attempted abduction approximately 5 weeks ago, of the child who came into your care.”

  Immediately I tensed, did I take him?

  “Don’t worry” Came Sam’s comforting voice and tone. “It wasn’t you. You tried to help him, but then something else happened. There is a tape, taken as evidence at the time they disappeared.

  “How come they never came forward when we were found? The parents I mean?”

  “They claim they never kept in touch with the news, trusted the police, and we missed the connection.”

  “They claim?”

  “Fact is the pictures we were given at the time didn’t look much like them at all. It’s a bit strange. What is really strange is what else is on the tape though.”

  “Are you prepared to see it.” Asked Mr Chulloroy.

  “Are you kidding me? Yes! Please.” I could hardly contain myself. My palms were sweaty, I rubbed them together, agitated.

  “The tape was taken in a parking lot of the local supermarket. The wife was out shopping. She let the child fall behind.” Sam pressed play and the grainy tape played. The wife looked back at the boy, then at a van that pulled up.

  As the van pulls to a stop, a man gets out, yanking Jonah from the street, tossing him inside carelessly. He slams the door. And then there I was. I pushed past the woman, his real mother, I unlock the door, pull Jonah out. The man got back out of the van and I kicked him in the chest sending him flying over the bonnet of the vehicle. To the far left of the image, three bystanders suddenly looked up, shaking, bodies contorted. Sabian sat bolt upright.

  “Strange hey.” Remarked Sam. Sabian, I realized, recognized something other than just odd behaviour.

  “What is that? What’s happening to them?” he asked.

  “No idea. Even they don’t know, don’t recall anything after seeing the man kicked in the chest.” Sam turned his attention back to the tape, so I followed his lead. The three people on the tape all moved in unison towards me as I turned around helping Jonah to his feet. All three tackled me, one separating to grab the boy. As they held me, they strained to keep me down as I kicked free, but eve
n as I did, the man from the van reached over and placed something on my neck. I stilled, and they tossed Jonah and I back in the van. The van drove off and Sam stopped the tape.

  “So who am I?” I almost yelled. Sabian put a hand on my arm to calm me.

  “I don’t know.” Replied Sam staring into me.

  I became desperate. I stood up urgently knocking the chair over. It wasn’t good enough. I had too many questions, not enough answers. “Why did they do that?”

  Sam remained unmoved, though continued watching me as though he was looking deep inside for something. “They seem to have no link to the situation. For some unknown reason they just acted like this. Three separate people, no memory of the event, nothing to offer. They were charged if that helps, but they have no history, no criminal behaviours. It remains a mystery to them and us.

  “How is it possible?” I whispered sitting back down.

  “You tell us. How come you don’t remember anything?” Sam retorted.

  “I just need some answers…I don’t know why I cant remember. Were we drugged?”

  “Everyone keeps saying you have had a traumatic event. I think we need to find out exactly what.” Sam said never looking away from me.

  “Detective Knott has proposed that you attend a Psychiatrist skilled in hypnosis. They can get you in this afternoon but I should warn you that any information that is revealed….”

  “Fine – I’ll do it.” I didn’t give him time to answer. I didn’t care what the consequences were. The room remained tense and I stared at Sam as he stared back at me. Sabian’s phone rang and broke the tension. I diverted my gaze to Sabian as he excused himself and left the room.

  “We’ll set up the visit then.” Mr Chulloroy advised and stood up indicating the end of the meeting.

  “Come back at 4:00 this afternoon. He’ll be here.” Sam hadn’t bothered addressing Mr Chulloroy. He stood as well and followed us out.

  As Sam held the door open for me to follow I stopped to ask him a burning question of mine. “Were you really going to go through my things? When you asked for my permission to go to my place.”

  Sam shrugged. “Probably. Kind of my job.” He smiled at me.

  “Spying on me?” I asked.

  “Keeping an eye on you.” He replied.

  “I actually feel better knowing that.” With that, I left the office and joined Sabian in the hallway as he got off his phone. He looked somber, and looked me over as though an uncomfortable thought about me had come over him.