something I see every day.”
He paused and narrowed his eyes again.
“What do you want to do with your life?”
What did she want to do with her life?
It was the question everyone asked her before she left custody. All she could come up with was finishing her degree and maybe getting some kind of low-paying job until the universe revealed something to her. But the state of Chez Taylor had given her ideas about what she wanted to do.
She hesitated. “Decoration. House decoration.”
“Interior design?”
She nodded. “Although not just that. More a total make over service. I’m good with color and decoration. At Emu Plains I did some building courses. I can do woodwork and painting.” She could feel some of her stiffness softening with the man in front of her. “My mother’s house is in a bad way. I thought I could complete the building qualifications I started at Emu Plains and learn as I go by fixing her house.”
He nodded his head and smiled at her. “That’s a good plan. Let’s get you in contact with TAFE.”
He pulled out some forms and for the next hour, Julia gratefully focused on her future plans. He really did seem to want to help her. By the time the hour was up, she’d enrolled in a TAFE course over the phone, had discussed doing a small business course, registered for a tax file number and an Australian business number, and accepted his advice to stay away from Rez.
“Leave him to the police. Don’t have any contact with him at all.”
She nodded and hoped Dylan and his colleagues would pick him up soon.
*
Julia Taylor’s haunted look preyed on Dylan’s mind
He wasn’t foolish enough to discount an accusation of abuse at the hands of police. It made his blood boil. He knew she wasn’t making it up. She didn’t have that air of being a drama queen that never failed to set off his bullshit detector.
And he knew who assaulted her.
Angus O’Reardon. Ex-cop, now owner of the biggest and most successful hotel in Katoomba.
He’d been medically retired from the police force just after the priest’s murder. Although from what Dylan heard, he was on the verge of being investigated by the Police Integrity Commission after one too many accusations of assault. No one mentioned a rape.
His mind made up, Dylan crossed the busy office of the Katoomba Police Station and knocked on the open door of his boss, Local Area Commander Bill Pringle.
The older man was on the phone but waved Dylan in, pointing to a chair. Dylan sat and smiled, shaking his head as he listened to the one-way conversation.
“Yes, Mrs. Daley. That must have been very irritating. No, no. I can’t send anyone out right now.” Silence as he rolled his eyes at Dylan. “But there was no damage? Just some noises. Yes… Yes… Maybe it was a possum. No?” He sighed. “Okay, Mrs. Daley. I’ll drop in on my way home. No, no. No trouble. I’ll see you then.”
He hung up the phone and gazed at Dylan, with a face full of gloom.
“She thinks someone tried to break into her house last night. Last night and three days ago. Unfortunately she lives just down the street to me so I dropped in to take a look. It’s obviously possums, but she won’t believe me.” He sighed again. “She’s lonely, the poor old duck. I’ll speak to my wife. Maybe she can get someone out to talk to her.”
His gaze sharpened as he focused on Dylan. Most people saw him as genial and easy-going, but Dylan knew better. Nothing got past him. His carefully cultivated laid-back charm hid his razor sharp mind. He’d been the LAC at Katoomba for the last two years. In that time, it became more and more obvious to him and to Dylan just who was responsible for the growing drug trade throughout the Mountains and the Central West.
Years of experience as a Senior Sargent within the New South Wales Police Service meant O’Reardon was adept at covering his tracks. But Dylan and Pringle kept chipping away at the investigation, adding seemingly random
He paused and narrowed his eyes again.
“What do you want to do with your life?”
What did she want to do with her life?
It was the question everyone asked her before she left custody. All she could come up with was finishing her degree and maybe getting some kind of low-paying job until the universe revealed something to her. But the state of Chez Taylor had given her ideas about what she wanted to do.
She hesitated. “Decoration. House decoration.”
“Interior design?”
She nodded. “Although not just that. More a total make over service. I’m good with color and decoration. At Emu Plains I did some building courses. I can do woodwork and painting.” She could feel some of her stiffness softening with the man in front of her. “My mother’s house is in a bad way. I thought I could complete the building qualifications I started at Emu Plains and learn as I go by fixing her house.”
He nodded his head and smiled at her. “That’s a good plan. Let’s get you in contact with TAFE.”
He pulled out some forms and for the next hour, Julia gratefully focused on her future plans. He really did seem to want to help her. By the time the hour was up, she’d enrolled in a TAFE course over the phone, had discussed doing a small business course, registered for a tax file number and an Australian business number, and accepted his advice to stay away from Rez.
“Leave him to the police. Don’t have any contact with him at all.”
She nodded and hoped Dylan and his colleagues would pick him up soon.
*
Julia Taylor’s haunted look preyed on Dylan’s mind
He wasn’t foolish enough to discount an accusation of abuse at the hands of police. It made his blood boil. He knew she wasn’t making it up. She didn’t have that air of being a drama queen that never failed to set off his bullshit detector.
And he knew who assaulted her.
Angus O’Reardon. Ex-cop, now owner of the biggest and most successful hotel in Katoomba.
He’d been medically retired from the police force just after the priest’s murder. Although from what Dylan heard, he was on the verge of being investigated by the Police Integrity Commission after one too many accusations of assault. No one mentioned a rape.
His mind made up, Dylan crossed the busy office of the Katoomba Police Station and knocked on the open door of his boss, Local Area Commander Bill Pringle.
The older man was on the phone but waved Dylan in, pointing to a chair. Dylan sat and smiled, shaking his head as he listened to the one-way conversation.
“Yes, Mrs. Daley. That must have been very irritating. No, no. I can’t send anyone out right now.” Silence as he rolled his eyes at Dylan. “But there was no damage? Just some noises. Yes… Yes… Maybe it was a possum. No?” He sighed. “Okay, Mrs. Daley. I’ll drop in on my way home. No, no. No trouble. I’ll see you then.”
He hung up the phone and gazed at Dylan, with a face full of gloom.
“She thinks someone tried to break into her house last night. Last night and three days ago. Unfortunately she lives just down the street to me so I dropped in to take a look. It’s obviously possums, but she won’t believe me.” He sighed again. “She’s lonely, the poor old duck. I’ll speak to my wife. Maybe she can get someone out to talk to her.”
His gaze sharpened as he focused on Dylan. Most people saw him as genial and easy-going, but Dylan knew better. Nothing got past him. His carefully cultivated laid-back charm hid his razor sharp mind. He’d been the LAC at Katoomba for the last two years. In that time, it became more and more obvious to him and to Dylan just who was responsible for the growing drug trade throughout the Mountains and the Central West.
Years of experience as a Senior Sargent within the New South Wales Police Service meant O’Reardon was adept at covering his tracks. But Dylan and Pringle kept chipping away at the investigation, adding seemingly random
Similar Books
