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CHASE
As soon as I climb out of Leah’s crappy car, I feel better.
Natalie, and the conundrum she causes me, still linger in my mind. I don’t think she’s been far from my thoughts since the first time I set eyes on her, but instead of being tinged with the constant concern that I'm missing something important, there’s peace.
She’s a bear.
It’s insane, but yet something deep inside me knows that it isn’t. A part of me that I like to pretend doesn’t exist but has been growing stronger with each passing year.
Our front garden looks the very same as the last time I was home. The windowsills could do with paint, I note, mentally promising to come back and do that small job once this case is wrapped up.
Dad’s latest DIY project is visible through the open garage door as I stroll up the path. The mess spills out onto the driveway, and I can imagine my Mum standing there, shaking her head but secretly loving the random things he comes up with for her.
A birdhouse. A bookshelf with moons and stars carved into the wood.
All lovingly made for her, if not tidily.
The front door swings open before I have my foot on the bottom step.
“That didn’t take long.” Mum wipes her hands on the front of her apron and smiles at me sympathetically. “Did they kick you out already?”
“They didn’t even let me stay with them in the first place,” I joke. “Hi, Mum.” Pulling her into a tight embrace, I breathe in her comforting smell and sigh. It’s good to be back. Dad raises a hand, but with a row of nails gripped between his lips and a hammer in the other hand, I know it’ll be a few minutes before he follows us inside.
I’ve seen them since I got back, but I haven’t been home yet. Why, I can’t for the life of me remember. It always makes me feel more like myself again.
“So, how are you getting on with Cooper and Rex?” Mum asks, getting straight down to business as she fixes me a massive plate of home-cooked dinner, knowing full well I’ll have been living on take-out and fast food since setting foot in Grey Ridge. She already knows the answer.
“I’m not.” I’m sure Hayley and Leah have been filling her in.
“I hope you’ve at least been making an effort?” She looks at me expectantly as she slides the plate onto the table in front of me. She definitely already knows the answer to that one, too. I’ve been making an effort alright, but it’s an effort to find out what they’re up to.
“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” I mumble around a mouthful of food. God, this tastes good.
“Chaaaase,” she chastises, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth no matter how she tries to hide it. “Give them a chance. They’re good guys. In fact, I think Rex is a lot like you.”
Rex is sullen, angry, and brooding. She might have a point, but I don’t have to like it. I scowl and say nothing, in case she takes my dinner away. Sandwiches, burgers from Taaffe’s, and bowls of cereal are not enough to sustain me. Mum has always teased me about the size of my appetite. I didn’t realise quite how much food I put away compared to others until I went to training camp. When the weight started to fall off me, I had to get creative about smuggling in as much food as I could.
“You’re telling me that you’re not one bit worried about what’s been going on?” Staring at my father, who’s snuck back inside and is washing-up at the sink, I find it impossible to believe he’s on board with his girls shacking-up and marrying practical strangers, let alone being involved in a series of unfortunate events that remain unsolved.
Both of them ignore me.
“Bring these back with you and give them to Ethan.”
Mum stacks up three Tupperware containers beside me, all filled to bursting with food I’d like myself. He’s definitely not getting those.
“I’ll give you your own. You are not to eat those, Chase! I’ll check to make sure he got them,” my mother scolds, reading my mind.
“What’s with those weird dot tattoos they all have on their necks? Is it some kind of cult thing? Gang markings?” Shaking my head, I go back to my food, but I don’t miss the look that passes between my parents. Even they know more than me. “Uncle Killian had them too. Are we related to the Joneses somehow? That would be a bit gross.”
Mum’s back is to me as I deliver my carefully planned line. She freezes, gripping the counter hard with both hands and her entire body goes stiff. Bingo.
“Who?” she asks, smiling to lighten the tone behind her question, but I can sense the tension. Dad keeps eating, looking curiously at her when he also picks up the shift in her mood.
“Uncle Killian. He stayed here for a few days when we were younger.” Even though I can’t have been more than six years of age, I can still picture him. The girls would have been too small to remember, but Mum knows exactly who I’m talking about.
“Uncle Killian?” Dad repeats, completely lost. At least I’m not the only person being kept in the dark about some things.
“I don’t know who you mean. I don’t have a brother.” Mum says the words in an unnatural flat tone, turning slowly and winding a tea towel up in her hands. Standing, I approach her cautiously and pull the towel free from her grasp, placing it carefully on the kitchen counter. Holding her hands, I dip down to look her in the eye.
