Limbo (4 page)

Hailey smiled for the first time through puffy eyes. ‘Thank you so mu —’

‘I’m off, Joy.’

Joy spun around to find Gary coming down the stairs from the parlour area upstairs. She looked back but Hailey was gone. ‘Okay…sure,’ she said as she turned to face Gary again. ‘I’ll just be a little bit longer. See you tomorrow?’

‘Okey dokey.’

Joy listened to his receding whistle as he made his way up the stairs and headed for the exit. When she was sure he was
gone
gone she turned back to face the room, empty now save for the
actual
Hailey Richardson lying under a white sheet on a cold metal table.

‘Hailey?’ Joy whispered.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she was whispering but Joy wasn’t sure how the whole talking ghost thing worked.

‘Hailey?’ she asked again, her voice louder in what seemed almost preternatural silence.

Nothing.

Great.
Now what?

She sat back on the stool at the head of the table and looked at Hailey lying all serene and dead. ‘Hailey?’ she asked again.

Still nothing.

So that was it? She was supposed to go to the cops with sparse information about a missing baby and tell them Hailey Richardson’s ghost had told her?

Yeah. She could imagine how that conversation would go down. Joy did not fancy spending hours talking to some state-sanctioned psychiatrist about her
condition
.

Big deal. She occasionally saw dead people. They didn’t usually
talk
to her, for fuck’s sake.

But she’d promised Hailey she’d go to the police.

A sudden idea struck Joy and she stripped off her gloves, tossing them in the bin as she pushed through the swing doors into the staffroom where her backpack was stashed. She found her wallet and searched through the crap-ton of business cards and maxed-out credit cards until she found what she was looking for.

A not-so-crisp-looking white business card.

Dashiell Dent. Private Investigator.

She hadn’t looked him up since coming back to Brisbane despite finding a cheap, crappy little flat in the dodgy area of the Basin not that far from Eve’s.

And she’d had absolutely no intention of doing so — they didn’t have that kind of connection.

But…

She tapped the corner of the card against her mouth. Needs must.

***

Joy left it until eight the following morning before she knocked on Dash’s front door and waited impatiently for him to answer. By the time she’d arrived home last night it was nine o’clock and she didn’t think she should land on his mat, particularly when Hailey had been pretty damn certain that Isabella wasn’t in any danger.

She’d contemplated texting him — after all, his number was on his card. But that seemed a little too familiar given that they’d had a one-night stand three years ago and she’d crept out on him without even saying goodbye.

But she was here now and she really needed to talk to him. She needed his advice
before
she took this to the cops. If anyone could tell her how they’d react it was Dash.

But he wasn’t answering and she was freezing her butt off on a cold July morning. She belted on his door again then quickly shoved her hand back into the front pockets of her fleecy hoodie.

Joy heard a rustling at the window and saw the blinds separate a little, two fingers prising them apart down low at the edge. A few seconds later the door opened and a rush of warmth enfolded her as a mini version of Dash — all serious frown and inquisitive eyes — stood blinking up at her. She had long, scraggily tangled blonde hair that had been gathered up and shoved into two pigtails sticking out the sides of her head, and she was wearing One Direction flannelette pyjamas.

Joy tried really hard not to wince.

This had to be Dash’s daughter. She must be…ten now? With a terrible stylist and dubious taste in music. What the hell was wrong with Dash? Clearly his daughter needed to be taken in hand by someone who had lived back in the days before boy bands were thrown together on reality television shows and the music was
real
.

The serious little face peered at her for long moments. ‘Hey. Your hair is pink now.’

Joy was startled at the opening statement.
Now?
‘Ahh…yes.’ She’d switched the blue for pink last month.

‘I like it,’ she nodded solemnly.

‘Er…thank you.’

‘You’re Joy. I saw you on X Factor last night.’

Ah. Joy grimaced.
Excellent.
Just what she wanted — recognition. She braced herself for a critique from a child whose style icons thought it was okay to have their faces stamped on little girl’s pyjamas.

‘You were sooo good,’ she said and smiled the sweetest smile, dissolving the serious set to her forehead and Joy’s resistance along with it. ‘I wish they’d put you through to boot camp.’

Joy nodded. Out of the mouths of babes.

‘Daddy thought you were good too. He almost choked on his beer and said holy
f
when he saw how good you were. Daddy never says the
f
word around me. Mummy doesn’t like it.’

Joy nodded. And while she didn’t think for a second that her brilliance as a performer had been the catalyst for Dash’s uncharacteristic use of the f word (although she seemed to remember he was pretty free with it that night three years ago) it brought a grudging smile to her face as she pictured his reaction.

‘Is he around?’ Joy asked, cutting to the chase. As much as Dash’s daughter was cute in a serious, direct kind of way, it was freezing standing on the doorstep and it was warm inside. Plus, what she had to say was kind of important.

‘He’s in the shower,’ she said.

‘Do you think you could go tell him Joy’s here to see him?’

Two shrewd-beyond-their-years eyes held hers for long moments. ‘Are you in trouble? Do you need help?’

Joy blinked at the question. Not something a ten-year-old would typically ask, she imagined. ‘Yes.’

‘Okay,’ she nodded. ‘Wait here.’

The door closed abruptly in Joy’s face, cutting off the steady supply of heat that had been warming her face. She hunched further into the fleece of her hoodie and hoped Dash would haul his ass downstairs pronto.

***

Dash was leaving the bathroom with a towel around his hips when a puffed Katie bounded up the last step and practically ran into him. ‘Joy-from-X-Factor-is-at-the-door- she-wants-to-see-you-she’s-in-trouble.’

He frowned down at his excitable daughter who had spewed the information at him in one breath. ‘What?’

Katie rolled her eyes. ‘Joy,’ she said, slowly this time. ‘From last night? From X Factor. She’s at the door.’

Dash frowned some more.
Joy?
Was outside? ‘You answered the door?’

Another eye roll. ‘I checked through the blinds first just like you taught me.’

‘I taught you
not
to open the door. To get me.’

Katie stuck her chin out in that determined little jut he knew so well. ‘You were in the shower,’ she said stubbornly. ‘And it’s
Joy
.’

Well, this he
had
to see. He strode over to his window, traversing around Katie’s camp bed. He pressed his forehead to the glass and peered down. Not that he could see much from this angle, and with the hoodie obscuring her head. But whoever it was didn’t look very big and was alone.

‘Okay,’ he sighed, turning back to Katie. ‘Let her in. I’ll just get dressed.’

Dash heard the door open then close, then Katie’s chatter, as he threw on some track pants and a long-sleeved shirt. He pushed his fingers through damp unruly hair that was overdue for a cut as he bounded down the stairs less than a minute later.

He could hear voices in his office and headed that way. They had their backs to him as they peered into Ralph’s bowl and Dash paused for a moment in the open doorway, lounging against the frame. With her hoodie still firmly in place he couldn’t tell much from this view but he’d know that ass anywhere.

He’d know it blindfolded, intoxicated and with both hands amputated at two hundred metres.

Why did that ass have the habit of appearing in his life at the exact time he hadn’t had
any
ass for a while?

‘Well, well. The wandering minstrel had returned I see.’

She turned then. So did Katie. They both looked at him with serious eyes. No coy little smile from Joy. No hint of recognition of what happened last time she was here.
In this very office.

‘Hey,’ she said folding her arms across her chest, her black nail polish catching his eye.

‘See, Daddy. It’s Joy.’

Katie gave him a hesitant smile and Dash forced himself to smile back. As much as he and Liz busted their guts to keep things amicable they were aware that Katie tried too hard to pretend that everything was
all okay all the time
. It felt like she’d skipped being a kid and gone straight into adulthood and it broke his heart.

‘Yes. So it is.’

‘She has pink hair now.’

Dash’s gaze flicked to the long chunk of hot-pink fringe hanging down one side of her face, kicking up at the end at chin level.

He raised an eyebrow at Joy. ‘It suits you.’

She shrugged. ‘Change is as good as a holiday.’

‘We watched you last night.’

‘Yes, so…’ Joy looked down at Katie. ‘…Your daughter said.’

‘Katie,’ Katie supplied. ‘My name’s Katie.’

‘You were robbed,’ he murmured.

Joy shrugged again. ‘That’s the business for you.’

‘It didn’t work out in Nashville?’

‘I did okay but…they’re after blonde, buxom and perky and I’m…’

Dash chuckled then. ‘Not?’

Joy was about as far removed from any of those things as was humanly possible. She was petite, more athletic than curvy, and her breasts were certainly never going to win her a wet t-shirt contest. Of course there’d be guys who’d pay good money to watch her shake her seriously good ass but Joy didn’t strike him as an ass-shaker.

Joy was a watcher, an observer. From seeing her perform twice now he could tell she was an
artist.
She was about the music. Not about the look. Watching her at the Purple Parrot and on the telly last night as she got herself totally lost in ‘Jolene’ had only confirmed it. Joy took her craft seriously.

There was nothing perky or cutesy or cheerful about her.

Pete had told him years ago that Joy had been the family surprise package and their parents had been so over-the-moon happy to have their much-longed-for little girl, they’d called her Joy.

But even when she was a kid that name had been optimistic.

Maybe it had just been optimistic full stop to name any child residing in a funeral home Joy.

‘Not,’ she admitted grimly. Grudgingly. Like it pained her to do so.

He’d have thought after years of kicking around the industry she’d be used to rejection by now. At first glance, with her black grunge vibe and alternative hairdo, she looked like she was going to be one of those tough nuts who brushed setbacks off in that don’t-give-a-shit way, pretended like it was no big deal, that they didn’t want all that fame and glory crap anyway.

But Dash could see she wanted it very much. He could see the conflict between wanting it and staying true to herself playing out in her solemn brown gaze.

And he knew what that felt like, to want something but having to become somebody else to get it.

It totally blew.

But she wasn’t here about that. ‘So…you’re in trouble?’

‘Oh yes…’ Her arms tightened across her chest. ‘Well not really. Not
yet
anyway. I have a feeling that’s about to change.’

Well now, that sounded ominous. ‘What have you done?’

‘Nothing,’ she denied, her gaze flicking to Katie.

He glanced at his daughter, who was taking in every word. ‘How about you go and fix yourself some brekkie, sweetie.’

‘Oh but Daddy, I want —’

‘You can watch the One Direction DVD Mummy sent over,’ he said, interrupting her before her protest gained momentum. Katie could be a determined little warrior when she put her mind to it.

A chip off the old block, Liz called her.

And Katie saw much too much of the seedy side of life inside — and outside — his office. He tried to shelter her from it but things didn’t always crop up Monday to Friday for him and sometimes he had no choice but to take Katie with him on dead-beat dad or cheating-spouse surveillance. Not that she ever seemed to mind. And he had to admit nobody paid any attention to a guy with a kid tagging along.

Katie streaked past him, with just a brief ‘See you later’ to Joy, and he laughed. Joy didn’t look so amused.

‘Really, Dash?
One Direction?’

He shrugged. ‘Better than boyfriends and drugs.’

Joy looked at him like he’d gone mad. ‘She’s
ten
.’

‘Exactly. She’ll be dancing at clubs before I know it with every guy in Brisbane hanging their tongues out.’

‘Oh. And you’re gonna lock her away in an ivory tower and keep her a virgin all her days?’

Dash nodded grimly. ‘If it’s at
all
in my power.’ The thought of
boy
s made him shudder. ‘Do you have
any
idea what teenage guys think about?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Sex? Is it sex?’

‘
Twenty-four seven
.’

‘Same as teenage girls then?’

Dash shuddered at the thought.
Not Katie
. ‘It’s my job to keep her away from unsavoury influences.’

Joy snorted. ‘You live next door to a
brothel,
Dash.’

‘Hey, at least that’s honest enterprise. What’s goes on inside the head of a horny boy…’ He tapped his temple. ‘Disgusting. Totally delusional. Ivory towers should be mandatory.’

‘Well good luck with that. Send her to me when you can’t hack through the thorny brambles that are keeping
you
from her.’

The thought that it might actually happen chilled Dash to the core. He really wasn’t ready for Katie to become a teenager. Thankfully he had a few more years yet.

‘So,’ he said, pushing off the doorjamb, eager to change the fucking topic already. ‘What
have
you done?’

He watched as she seemed to gather herself. ‘Last night at work I saw the ghost of Hailey Richardson who told me her baby was still alive and begged me to go to the police.’