The Negotiator (17 page)

A king-sized bed frame and mattress was also roped onto the trailer. He’d remembered Cally saying something about a sofa bed. With his six-foot-three-and-a-half frame, he and a sofa bed were never going to work. The size of his bed was extravagant, but it was the only one he had.

Now he’d seen the room, he intended to head straight to the nearest electrical store and buy an air conditioner. It was summertime. There was no way he was sleeping on a porch where the only cooling was an old upright fan that had yet to materialize.

“What do you have in there, Andy?”

He looked to where Jack pointed and reached in and pulled two items out of the box. “It’s a dive mask and snorkel,” he explained and showed the boy how to use it.

Jack’s eyes went wide. “That’s pretty cool, Andy. What do you do with it?”

Andy flashed Cally a look of surprise. She shrugged and dropped her gaze. He realized she was embarrassed her son didn’t know what a snorkel was.

He recalled his own childhood and remembered how limiting life could be when money was scarce. His father had never been a good provider. Whilst there had been violence and fear in the bucket loads, food and other material goods had been in short supply. He didn’t need a shrink to make the connection between his difficult early life and his need to surround himself with material things and he’d learned to accept that for what it was.

He looked at Jack and his heart clenched at the thought of all the things the young boy hadn’t been able to experience simply because of a lack of funds. He vowed to do something to change that.

Leaning down, he ruffled the blond head. “Tell you what, Jack. How about I take you somewhere tomorrow and I’ll show you how to use it?”

“Really?” The boy’s eyes shone with excitement. He turned to his mother eagerly.

“Can I, Mom? Can I go with Andy?”

* * *

As Cally watched her son interact with Andy, emotion welled up inside her and she pressed her lips together in an effort to contain it. Money woes aside, seeing the two of them together, it was clear how much Jack needed the influence of a man in his life. Already, a bond was developing between them.

She recalled the ugly scene the night before between Andy and his ex-girlfriend and wondered again at the accusations she’d thrown at him. He’d told Cally his family had been killed, but he’d never divulged the circumstances. She frowned and wondered if she should investigate it a little further. Her instincts told her she could trust him, but she’d potentially put her safety and the safety of her son at risk by inviting him into her home. She had to be sure her trust wasn’t misplaced.

“Hey, if you’d rather he didn’t, it’s fine with me,” Andy murmured, mistaking the cause of her frown.

Cally pushed her sobering thoughts aside and offered him a strained smile. “No, it’s not that.”

Andy closed the distance between them and lowered his voice. “Then what? For a moment or two, you looked scared.”

Cally heaved a sigh. “You urged me to be cautious with this whole roommate thing.”

Andy’s expression displayed a little uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure where her thoughts were headed. “Yes, I did.”

“Of course, I was never going to rush into it without being careful. I was even prepared to have the principal at my school run a working with children check on anyone who answered my ad.”

Andy’s gaze was steady on hers. “Good for you. Did you run one on me?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t think there was a point. You wouldn’t be employed by the police service if you had a criminal record.”

“You’re right. All you have to go on is your gut instinct, but feel free to speak with my friends and colleagues. You’ve already met some of them. Tom and Craig and Sandy were on duty last night. I saw you speaking with Tom.”

She nodded. “Yes, I asked him to pass me the wastepaper basket.”

Andy smiled. “See, you already know him. Ask him whatever you like.”

Cally sighed. “I want to trust you, Andy, I really do. You’ve done nothing to make me think you’re not the best thing to have happened to both Jack and me, but I can’t help thinking of your ex-girlfriend and the things she said.” She bit her lip and then blurted the rest of it out. “What did she mean about your family? What haven’t you told me?”

Andy’s face turned to stone and Cally’s spirits sank.
So, there was something.
She should have known he was too good to be true. He stared at his feet for so long, she thought he was going to ignore her, but then, with a look of resignation, he threw a glance toward Jack and muttered, “You’re right. We need to talk, but not here. Is there somewhere else we can go?”

* * *

It was more than half an hour later, with Jack ensconced in the living room in front of Andy’s widescreen television, that he and Cally withdrew to the kitchen. She pulled a pair of French doors closed and effectively sealed them from where Jack watched a movie and then took a seat at the table. She looked as scared as he felt.

He was filled with dread and his stomach churned at the thought of what he was about to reveal and how she might react. He drew in a deep breath and eased it out, knowing he had no choice but to tell her.
If they were ever going to have a chance of making a life together, he needed to come clean.
He positioned himself in a corner of the room and remained standing, his arms folded across his chest.

“My father was a violent man. He was also an alcoholic. Not that he needed it to give him courage. He’d fight whether he was drunk or sober.” He risked a glance at Cally, but her face remained impassive.

“We never knew when it would happen. One minute, he’d be having a perfectly normal conversation and the next he’d be pummeling my mother with his fists. I was a child. I never could work out what set him off. It never seemed to be the same thing.”

He sucked in a ragged breath and continued, wanting to get it over with. “My mother once told me my father had been raised in a violent household. Apparently, my grandfather ruled with a heavy fist and dictated how things were to happen, right down to the television shows the family watched. If instructions weren’t followed to the letter, he became enraged, striking out at anyone and everyone, including his wife and my father.”

“I don’t think that’s any excuse,” Cally said quietly, her gaze lowered to the table.

“Neither do I,” he said. “I told my mother as much at the time.”

“What did she say?”

“She told me it was all that he knew.”

“It still sounds like an excuse to me.”

“I agree,” he said softly.

“Is there more?”

He nodded and dragged in another breath. “My father hated the sound of the vacuum cleaner. The noise used to set him off. I never found out why. My mother learned the hard way to make sure the vacuuming was well and truly finished before he came home.”

He shrugged sadly. “Most of the time, she managed it, but every now and then, my father would come home early.” He closed his eyes and fought off the memories. “I remember hiding under the covers, trying hard not to listen to him beating her, hoping my baby sister, Gracie, couldn’t hear.”

“Oh, Andy,” Cally gasped, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

Ignoring the urge to go to her and lose himself in her embrace, he forged on, determined to get through it.

“My father’s drinking got worse and with it, the violence escalated. I was only ten years old, but I could tell he was completely out of control. One night, I heard him yelling at my mother and I climbed out of bed and went into the kitchen. I was determined to stand up to him, to protect her from his anger.

“I found her cowering near the kitchen sink, my father not far away. The noise must have woken Gracie because she was crying piteously from the room that contained her cot. No one else seemed to notice.” Remembered fear held Andy in its grip, but he forced himself to continue.

“My father advanced upon my mother, his face blotched red with anger. I didn’t know what had set him off, but from the look of fear and resignation on my mother’s face, an ugly scene was imminent. I walked into the kitchen just as my father raised his fist. My mother flinched and brought up her hands to protect her face. I ran toward them and yelled at him to stop.”

His breath came faster and his heart thudded. He didn’t dare look in Cally’s direction.

“He didn’t stop, did he, Andy?” she whispered.

“No,” he gasped, “he didn’t.”

“What happened, Andy?”

“I was frozen with fear. I’d never felt so terrified. But, I knew I had to do something. I was sure if I didn’t, he’d kill her. I shouted at him again, but my words were lost in the sound of his meaty fist as it connected with her face. Blood poured from her lip.

“Fury sent me surging toward him. I didn’t even think. I threw myself on his back and pummeled him with my fists. All the time, I yelled at him to leave her the hell alone.

“My father was a big man. He barely even registered I was there. He threw me off with a sharp flick of his wrist and I flew through the air and slammed into the door of the refrigerator. My teeth went through my lip and I tasted blood.”

Hot tears burned behind his eyes, but he denied them release. He had to tell Cally all of it, while he still had the strength and the courage.

“I wanted desperately to get up and offer help to my mother, but I was bleeding and desperately afraid. Instead, I lay there and watched while she endured yet another beating. Gracie was still crying in the other room, her wails had now reached fever pitch. I lay where I’d fallen, tears drying on my cheeks, hating the man I called my father…hating myself even more.”

The sob he’d tried so hard to hold back burst inside his chest. Tears ran down his cheeks and he was helpless to stop them. As if in slow motion, he watched Cally push away from the table and come toward him, her own cheeks wet with tears.

Her arms went around his waist. He shuddered and sobbed and held on tight, as if she was a life preserver and he was lost in a stormy sea. It was a long time later that he raised his head and offered her a strained smile.

“Thank you.”

She stared up at him, her eyes dark and unfathomable. “For what?”

“For listening; for understanding.”

“None of it was your fault, Andy. Surely, you believe that?”

He stared at her and swallowed hard, dread once again weighing his gut down like concrete. “I haven’t told you everything.”

A shadow passed over her face, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she nodded as if in acceptance and said, “Tell me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in some air. The memory of that awful day had never faded. Nearly two decades later, he could still recall every detail, despite how hard he’d tried to forget it.

When he opened his eyes again, Cally was watching him, her eyes full of warmth and concern. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman cared about how he was faring. Even Nikki had encouraged him to remain independent in all of the ways it counted. Taking courage from the knowledge Cally was different, he stumbled through a recount of what had happened that fateful day.

“Dad came for us at school,” he started, his voice hoarse with emotion. “It was lunchtime and he’d come to the office to pick us up early. The teachers found Gracie on the kindergarten playground. They told her Dad was waiting in the office to take her home. I was in the bathroom. When the teachers came looking for me, they couldn’t find me. I found out later they returned to the office and told Dad they were still looking, but he decided not to wait.” Andy’s voice broke. Once again, Cally moved close and tightened her arms around his waist.

The feel of her pressed against him brought him a comfort he’d never known and he shuddered. Images of his sunny, smiling sister with her white-blond curls and tiny baby teeth filled his head.

“Catch me, Andy! Catch me!
” He could still hear her high-pitched voice as she jumped off the trampoline, completely fearless in the knowledge that her older brother waited for her below. He’d never let her fall.

But he did.

“I let her fall, Cally. I let her fall.” Pain tore through him, but he couldn’t give in to it yet. It was going to get worse before it got better.

“What happened, Andy?” She asked the question with so much reluctance in her voice, Andy could tell she was scared of what he was going to say. He wished he could find the words to warn her, but it was all he could do to finish.

“Dad took Gracie home. I didn’t know at the time, but Mom had told him the night before she was leaving and she was taking Gracie and me with her. He phoned Mom at work and told her if she even mentioned leaving him again, she’d have the blood of her kids on her hands. He told her he already had Gracie and if she didn’t come home quietly and forget all about her stupid notion of leaving, she’d never see their daughter alive again.”

Cally’s face paled and her eyes went wide with shock. It was almost as if she could tell what was coming. “W-what did your mom do?”

“First, she phoned the school. She didn’t know if Dad was bluffing. He played with her head like that, sometimes. The school confirmed he’d taken Gracie, but that I was still on the grounds. Mom then called the police.”

Andy steeled himself for what was coming, knowing he had to see it through. “When the police arrived, Dad was inside the house with a gun. He threatened to shoot Gracie if they tried anything. One of the police negotiators asked Dad to let Gracie go. ‘Just open the door and let her come out,’ he said. But Dad wasn’t having any of it.”

“Where were you, Andy?” Cally whispered.

He dropped his arms and stepped slightly away and directed his gaze to the floor. There was no way he could look at her when he told her the final, awful truth. A shudder ran through him, this one heavy with dread.

“When Mom found out I was still at the school, she drove there and collected me. The police were already on their way over to our house and I guess she just wanted me close. When we arrived, the front yard was full of police. I didn’t know what was happening, but I was terrified just the same.

“The police asked Mom if she’d talk to Dad and try and get him to hand over the gun or at least, let Gracie go. She agreed to do whatever she could and climbed out of the car. I lay down on the floor of our station wagon and hid beneath a blanket.”