You Had It Coming by B.M. Carroll (best fiction novels .TXT) 📕
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- Author: B.M. Carroll
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The possibility of the complainant being related to Thomas Malouf didn’t cross their minds. She was just a cantankerous old woman, who had cost Richard in legal fees and annoyance.
Until Megan sent an email from Vietnam: You know that money my dad had to pay? Just discovered it was a set-up by the Maloufs to get back at us. The owner of the property is married to Thomas’s aunt! Feel sick to my stomach. Mum and Dad had to remortgage and it’s all my fault!
Jess showed the email to her father and he asked his lawyer to investigate further. The cantankerous old woman was, in fact, a cousin of Thomas Malouf’s grandfather.
Jess was aghast when her dad confirmed the connection. ‘Oh my God, how far will these people go?’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. ‘The lawyers had dealt with it anyway.’
Jess did worry about it. The differences between Megan’s family and hers had never been more stark: her family possessing the money and resources to fight off the attack by the Maloufs; Megan’s family left ruined.
This is what led to Roslyn going crazy at her husband’s funeral all those years later.
‘How dare you show your face … This is all your fault,’ she shrieked, when Jess tried to pay her respects. ‘What kind of friend are you, anyway? You should have gone home with Megan. If you’d been a good friend, my husband would still be alive today.’
Every word of which was true.
It’s midday, Saturday. They’re closing the gym for the afternoon and meeting at the community hall later in the evening. Everyone is jumpy with anticipation, even Vince, who has been through this more times than he can remember. Billy is here, flouting their advice to conserve energy and stay at home. He is doing hip stretches, one knee on the mat, an arm curved over his head in an oddly graceful pose. Jess vacuums around him.
‘One minute I think I’m going to get thrashed, and the next I’m imagining victory …’ He turns his upper body towards her. ‘Can’t decide if I’m scared shitless or beside myself with excitement.’
She knows that feeling all too well. The combination of fear and excitement, fuelling a surge of adrenalin on stepping into the ring. She is nervous for him, and more than a little jealous. He’s starting off, while her career is over. He won’t reach professional level – he doesn’t have the talent, and besides he already has a career in law – but at least he can fight at an amateur level, a massive achievement in itself.
You’re still in the game, she tells herself. Even if you’re no longer the centre player. You’re giving back to the sport.
‘Get out of here, for God’s sake! You’re in my way. You can feel scared shitless at home.’
They laugh, with only the tiniest hint of hysteria. How well he does tonight is testament to Jess and Vince, and everything they’ve taught him. Jess is less worried about Jordy and Lachlan, who are fighting too. They’re more experienced, know what to expect.
The phone rings at the desk and Vince picks it up, saying a gruff hello.
‘It’s for you,’ he says, holding out the receiver to Jess.
Probably Alex. He was rattled this morning when they kissed goodbye. Jess was rattled, too. That stupid puffer jacket. Why did he lie about it? What was the point? Her name was on the warrant, but it was obvious that the detectives were only interested in Alex, taking him in for questioning and towing the ute away. It was hard this morning to find the focus to go into work. But they’re both dogged like that, won’t let themselves be beaten.
She frowns and turns off the vacuum.
‘Hello?’
‘Jess, it’s Natasha.’ Her sister’s voice has a tell-tale quiver. Something is clearly wrong. ‘I’ve been trying to call you on your mobile. I’m at Mum and Dad’s. You need to come over here.’
‘What’s going on?’
‘Detectives are outside in the garden, talking to Alex. I think they have a warrant. They’re going to dig the place up.’
53
BRIDGET
The garden has been sectioned off and a cadaver dog, trained to smell human decomposition, is being led around by its handler.
Bridget’s eyes track the dog, a German Shepherd called Louis, his ears pricked and nose to the ground. He is trained to sit down if he detects anything. Louis makes short work of the expansive lawn and garden beds, disappearing behind trees and shrubs only to reappear again. He comes to a stop by the pool gate, waiting for his handler to allow him entry.
Dave voices Bridget’s thoughts. ‘Nothing in those new garden beds, then. Maybe Louis will have more luck around the pool.’
The Foster family are watching proceedings from the kitchen window. The well-off mother and father, Margaret and Richard. Jess, who arrived a few minutes ago, and her sister, with a young baby propped on her shoulder. Alex, arms folded, face smouldering. Bridget can imagine the complaints that will make their way to Katrina. She sighs. Her mind is torn between what’s going on here – the dog, the team of specialist officers, all present at her instigation – and what she learned this morning at Megan’s house. This is not as bad as it looks …
Megan’s intention was to explain her mother’s interest in the three men – William, Thomas and Dylan – but what she revealed lent Roslyn more motive than anything. Roslyn’s daughter had been violated. Her husband had lost his business and his will to live. Devastating financial consequences are still being paid today. Roslyn has every right to be mad. Is selling the house a
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