Deserving Death by Katherine Howell Read Free Book Online Page B

backs. ‘Call me anytime, okay? And here are the contact details for the service’s psychologist.’ She pressed the cards into their hands. ‘If there’s anything I or the service can do, please just say the word.’
    Carly nodded and smiled, and stood in the plant room counting the seconds until Julianne drove out with a kindly wave.
    ‘I hate that fake sympathy,’ Tessa said.
    ‘It wasn’t fake. She knew Alicia too.’
    ‘I mean sitting in there like that,’ Tessa said. ‘Pretending to care about what I feel.’
    ‘Maybe she does,’ Carly said.
    ‘Why didn’t you spill your guts then?’
    ‘Just because I didn’t feel like sharing doesn’t mean I don’t think she’s genuine.’
    Tessa snorted and turned away.
    Carly had had enough. She hauled her workbag out of the ambulance then went inside to the locker room. She took out the jeans, shirt and runners she’d worn in on the train that morning, got changed, stuffed her uniform and boots in the locker with her bag, then shut the door.
    Tessa was nowhere to be seen when she stepped back into the muster room. The lounge and kitchen were empty too. Carly peered through the window into the plant room and saw her standing in the driveway beside a red Commodore, talking to the driver. Carly opened the door and stepped into the plant room. Tessa looked up, then said something to the driver, who backed the car quickly down the drive and out onto George Street. By the time Carly reached Tessa, the car was turning out of sight under the bridge.
    ‘Who was that?’ Carly asked.
    ‘Tourist asking for directions. Trying to get to Darling Harbour.’
    Really , Carly thought. Because I could’ve sworn that was John Morris.
    ‘So you’re ready to go?’ Tessa said.
    ‘Huh?’ Why would John be here, talking to Tessa?
    ‘You’re in civvies. Ready to go home.’
    ‘Yep. Off to the train.’ And why would Tessa lie about it? Carly thought she spotted a flash of red car up the street. ‘Are you getting the train too? Want me to wait for you?’
    ‘No, no,’ Tessa said. ‘You go ahead. I’ll probably be a little while.’
    ‘You sure?’
    ‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘Take care.’
    ‘See you.’
    Keys in one hand, wallet in the other, Carly walked down the drive and turned right onto George Street. She glanced back to see Tessa watching her and waved. Tessa raised a hand in return, then Carly faced front and walked on. She kept going until she rounded the slight bend in the street and knew she was out of Tessa’s sight. Then she ducked over against the window of a shop, and edged back to a place where she could see the station. The roller doors were closed – she guessed Tessa had shut them while she went inside to change. She hurried across the street and inside a shop where she could pretend to be browsing the overpriced clothes while watching for Tessa to emerge.
    Less than three minutes later there Tessa was, popping out of the small door to the side of the big rollers. Carly watched her pull it closed then test that it was locked while glancing both ways along the street. Carly held her breath as Tessa walked down to the footpath. If she turned right, coming this way, heading for Wynyard and the train home, then Carly was overthinking things, getting all dramatic. If she turned left . . . well, it still mightn’t mean anything. She might feel like sitting near the harbour for a while, thinking about Alicia. She might decide to take a walk, get some air, have a drink by the water.
    She turned left.
    Carly brushed off an approaching shop assistant and eased out of the shop door. Tessa strode along, handbag clamped under her arm. The street curved under the Harbour Bridge not far in front of her, and Carly skipped and dodged around ambling tourists to catch up a little before she went out of sight.
    Tessa slowed and looked behind her. Carly slipped in behind a group of American tourists, but it was okay, Tessa was just checking for cars. She darted