Callan: Outback Shifters #2 Page 2
“No, now that I think about it, I’m sure it wasn’t anything,” Ella said. “It was just a guy. Sorry.”
“Okay. Well, if you do think of something –” here, the officer paused meaningfully “– please make sure to call me.”
She reached into her pocket, pulling out a card. Ella made a good show of taking it from her and examining it carefully, noting her name: Senior Sergeant Kelly Darlson.
“I will,” Ella said, nodding, tucking the card away. “But, really, I need to start cleaning up, cataloguing what’s broken –”
Senior Sergeant Darlson shook her head.
“Not just yet – we have crime scene investigators on their way. You can’t touch a thing until they’ve been through. Aside from that, Miss Dutt contacted campus security right after she called us. They’ve also asked that no one be allowed to interfere with anything – they want to know how someone breached the security here. So no one can touch anything until they’ve looked the place over as well.”
Ella stared at her, uncomprehending. “But – but it’s my lab – my research! I just want to see if there’s anything that can be salvaged – anything I could –”
The senior sergeant shook her head firmly. “No. I’m very sorry for what’s happened, but it’s not possible. You should be able to understand why. The more you touch, the less chance we have of catching whoever did this.” She gestured to the smashed-up petri dishes on the floor. “I’m guessing there’s a lot of money in this kind of research, right?”
Ella caught her breath. “I don’t care about that!” She could hear her voice rising to a yell, but she just couldn’t seem to get a hold of herself. “I’m doing this research to help people, not to make money! I don’t want –”
“Maybe not,” Senior Sergeant Darlson continued, “but I get the impression the university might not see it that way.”
Ella felt like screaming.
“But it’s my lab – my research! You can’t stop me from – you can’t just tell me it’s none of my business –”
Ella wasn’t sure what other incoherencies she might have yelled out if at that moment she hadn’t felt the soft touch of a hand on her shoulder, and heard Priyanka’s voice saying, “Hey, Ella, calm down. Come on – let me take you outside for a moment.”
Blinking back the hot tears that were threatening to spill out of the corners of her eyes, Ella let herself be led away, Priyanka’s hand on her back. Irritated at herself for doing something so pathetic as crying in public, she wiped angrily at her cheeks, feeling herself flushing with shame.
“I can’t imagine what this must be like for you,” Priyanka said once they were outside. “Really, I’m so sorry, Ell. I don’t know what to say.”
Ella shook her head. “There’s not really a lot to say,” she said, angrily wiping at her eyes with her palms. “I just… I don’t understand. They won’t even let me try to clean it up.”
“Wow.” Priyanka blinked. “How could something like this happen, though? And who’d want to do it?”
“I don’t know,” Ella said, raising her hand and pressing her knuckles to her forehead. “I just… I don’t know.”
Her head whirled. Even if there had been some reason for someone to do this, she wasn’t sure she could have thought of it right now. Panic was swirling in her gut. She’d been numb before, but now the full extent of everything she’d lost was beginning to hit her.
So much time. So much work. So many hopes that she might have been able to help people with conditions that no one knew how to cure. All gone.
“Is there anything I can do?” Priyanka asked.
“I just… I think I need to be alone right now,” Ella said, shaking her head. She couldn’t think straight.
Priyanka hesitated. “Will they need to… talk to you about things?”
“No, she can go for now – but we will need to speak to you at some point.” Senior Sergeant Darlson’s voice came from behind them. Clearly, she’d followed Ella and Priyanka out onto the steps.
Ella couldn’t bring herself to look at her to say thank you – she knew her tears would be visible, and right now, she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone seeing her so upset, no matter whether it was justified or not.
She gave Priyanka’s hand a quick squeeze, before fleeing across the carpark to her car.
Home. I want to go home.
She wanted to curl up under her blanket and cry until she was empty. She imagined that this was how most people would feel after the breakup of a serious relationship – but that was always a role that her work had filled in her life.
It was what proved I was worthwhile, that I had something to offer the world. That I wasn’t just stupid, unwanted, unneeded…
Slamming her car door shut behind her, Ella gripped the steering wheel, forcing herself to concentrate. She wouldn’t be able to drive if she was blinded by her own tears.
Get a grip. Come on. You’re supposed to be rational.
Closing her eyes, Ella pulled in a deep, slow breath.
You can cry all you like once you get home.
She bit her lip.
I’ll need to email my supervisor and tell her what’s happened. And ask her what happens to my funding if I don’t actually submit my thesis on time. Oh God.
Feeling tears welling up again, Ella forced the thoughts away. She’d deal with that later.
She realized that unconsciously, she’d started to grip onto the pendant on her necklace again – only this time, she couldn’t force herself to snatch her hand away.
It was ironic, she supposed: the last gift her father had given her before kicking her out of his life, and it was the thing she used to calm herself when things were going to shit.
It was the buzz of her mobile phone in her bag that jerked her out of her thoughts, in the end. Ella scrabbled through her truly impressive collection of coffee receipts, packets of tissues and empty tampon boxes for her phone. She barely looked at it before hitting Answer.
“What is it?” She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I mean, sorry. Hello.”
“Ella? Am I speaking with Ella Woodson?” It was a man’s voice, American accented. “If you’ll just listen to me for a moment –”
Fucking telemarketers – again!
Ella was at the absolute end of her patience. She knew these people had shitty jobs and it wasn’t their fault, but right now, she would have screamed at the Pope if he’d called her unsolicited.
“I’m really not interested, and this is a really bad time! Don’t call me again! Is that clear?!”
She ended the call and threw the phone back into her bag with a vengeance. Shoving the key into the ignition, she started the car, throwing it into reverse and screeching out of the carpark, fury wiping away her misery.
Gritting her teeth, her heart pounding, she tore into the street, only belatedly remembering that she ought to be more careful with so many cops around.
Well, whoever ruined my cell cultures better hope the cops find him before I do, because I’ll skin him alive. I don’t give a fuck if they put me away for life!
Thankfully, she didn’t live too far from campus – fifteen minutes later and she was pulling up outside her unit, the last one at the end of a long driveway. The place had been a real find – sure, the carpet and wallpaper hadn’t been replaced since the late 1970s and the plumbing made a horrible noise every time she flushed the toilet or ran the washing machine, but considering how few places she could afford on her own, Ella wasn’t about to be picky.
She could have gotten somewhere nicer if she’d been willing to move in with housemates, but something she’d learned about herself from childhood was that she didn’t play well with others, and she certainly didn’t need to live with others.
Maybe that was why she’d eventually left Sydney and come to study here in Canberra. It was a small city, and far less crowded. It suited her better to be here, just short drives from the Brindabella Range and the Murrumbidgee River,
where she could sometimes treat herself to a long, cleansing hike after a week of hard studying, writing and teaching. She’d done most of the hikes around Canberra – and there were a lot of them – but she’d never gotten tired of the landscapes around here: the gray rocks with pale green lichen, scrubby brown grasses, and the deep blue shadows of the gum trees.
Ella could barely remember anything about the United States – she’d only been seven when she’d left – and she was often curious about it, and sometimes found herself wondering what her life might have been like if she’d grown up there. But she really did love it here, and perhaps, for that at least, she was grateful.
Getting out of the car, Ella made her way up the concrete path to her front door. She could feel her tears threatening to spill over again, but she forced herself to swallow them down. She could feel her phone vibrating in her bag, but this time, she ignored it.
Just a couple more moments, and then I’ll be able to cry all I want. Just –
Coming up the couple of steps leading to her front door, Ella stopped. For a moment, she wasn’t sure she was seeing correctly.
She stared, blinking, at the shattered wood of her doorframe, her brain utterly refusing to comprehend what she was looking at.
There was a large, foot-sized hole in the door, where someone had obviously used a lot of force to kick it in, and the deadlock – the one Ella had thought would make her completely safe when she moved in – had been ripped right out of the frame. Whoever had done this had been strong.
Ella couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She could barely bring herself to reach out, gently pressing her fingertips to the sagging door to push it open. Her brain felt frozen, her legs moving seemingly without her conscious will as she stepped over the threshold of her home.
Or at least, what had been her home.
She barely recognized it now. Everything was overturned, ruined, destroyed. Her TV was lying in the middle of the loungeroom floor, screen shattered, and her books were torn and scattered. Her bookshelf was sagging across the hallway, leaning between the walls. Even her couch was tipped over, the stuffing torn out of it, the frame broken into pieces.
Ella simply stared. Her heart felt like it had stopped in her chest, her knees wobbling with shock. She couldn’t move more than a couple of steps into the house, the floor was so utterly covered with the things that had made this her home.
My lab – my home –
Terror suddenly shot through her, as her brain finally caught up to her eyes.
First my lab was completely destroyed. Now my home – but I was only gone forty-five minutes – if I’d been here – if I’d left a little later – would I have been here when whoever did this arrived?
Ella’s mind whirled. She couldn’t pin down a single thought to focus on. Her hands were shaking, her gut clenched so tight she thought she might be sick.
This can’t be real. Who would do this?!
She’d been completely genuine when she’d told the police she had no enemies. She didn’t even have many friends, and not much of a social life. She couldn’t think of a single thing she could have done to have pissed someone off so badly that they’d do this – even her teenaged years had been more silly delinquency than anything serious. And she’d left all of those people she’d used to hang out with behind in Sydney, anyway. She doubted any of them even remembered her now.
And the police had been totally dismissive when she’d told them about the one single thing she’d noticed that hadn’t seemed right. A guy looking at her wasn’t much to go on. Maybe they’d been right. Either way, Senior Sergeant Darlson hadn’t been interested.
So who – and why –
Her phone was buzzing again.
Ella fumbled for it mindlessly for a moment, too numb with horror and fear to think about what she was doing. She stared down at it, vibrating in her hand.
No caller ID.
Ella wanted to throw the phone against the wall. She was so scared now that even her ringing phone felt like a threat. But instead, without even really understanding what she was doing, she pressed Answer.
“Ella? Ella, please – don’t hang up. You’ve got to listen to me. Please.”
It was the same man’s voice, the same American accent. Ella held the phone against her ear, unable to speak.
“Ella? Are you there?”
“How do you know my name?” she demanded, once she’d found her voice again. “Who the hell even are you? Why do you keep calling me?”
“I don’t have time to explain it right now. For now, please just believe me when I say, you’ve got to get out of there.”
Ella froze. Her fingers gripped the phone so tightly she could feel the case cutting into her fingertips.
“What?”
“I don’t have time. Please. Ella, just listen. You need to listen, and do exactly what I say. Get in your car and drive as soon as we’ve finished talking.”
Ella shook her head, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
“No – wait. My house is – I have to call the police –”
“The police can’t protect you from this, Ella.” The man’s voice was growing more and more urgent by the second. “No one can. But you might be able to protect yourself, if you just listen to me, and do what I say.”
“Wait, just a moment,” Ella said, head spinning. “Who is this? Why the hell should I do what you say? My house and my lab are ruined and I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not about to –”
“Because I knew your father, Ella. Doctor Henry Woodson.”
Ella stopped breathing. Maybe her heart stopped beating as well. Everything seemed motionless, suspended in the air.
“What?” she finally managed to whisper, after a long moment of silence. “What did you say?”
“It’s true, Ella. He was always worried this might happen. He cared about you so much, Ella. He loved you. That was why he had to send you away.”
Ella could feel her knees giving way, and she sank to the floor in the doorway.
“That’s – that’s not true. My father just – he just didn’t want –”
“I swear to you I’m telling you the truth, Ella. So, please. Listen to me now. Don’t call the police. Don’t waste another moment. Write down the co-ordinates I’m about to give you. Go there, and I promise you it’ll give you all the answers you need. About everything. I wish I could do or say something to make you trust me, but I can’t. You’ll just have to decide for yourself. The only thing I can do is warn you.”
“Wh-what co-ordinates?” Ella said, latching onto the one and only part of what the man said that had been clear, and not just some vaguely worded warning. “You mean map co-ordinates? A location?”
“Exactly. Please, write them down. It’s important to be precise.”
Ella scrabbled for a pen and paper in the debris that filled her bag. She leaned them against the wooden doorframe as she scribbled down the map co-ordinates the man gave her.
This is fucking nuts, she thought, even as she wrote them down. Completely fucking nuts. I’m not doing this. This guy’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to do what he says.
“Did you get them?” the man asked, his voice tense. “Read them back to me.”
Ella did, her voice shaking.
“Good. Ella, I know I can’t make you do anything, but please listen to me. Remember what I said. The cops can’t help you. They don’t even know what they’d be up against. Your only chance right now is to head out to that location. After that, you’ll know what to do.”
Abruptly, the man hung up, and Ella was left staring down at her phone, heart beating wildly, her brain utterly unable to comprehend what was going on.
The cops can’t help you. They don’t even know what they’d be up against.
The man’s words echoed in her head.
But I can’t just – but he said he knew my father – that he –
Ella had spent her whole life believing that her father had sent h
er to Australia to get rid of her – that having her in his life was just too much of a hassle. He’d never contacted her, not even once, in the twenty years that had followed.
But now some guy says he loved me all along, and I’m just supposed to believe that? That the only way I can find out what’s going on is by heading out to some mystery location?! Fat chance!
Even as she thought it, Ella swallowed at the memory of the man’s words, telling her that she had to leave now, and that no one could protect her but herself.
She stared down at the map co-ordinates again.
Either way, I have to make a decision. And fast.
Ella hesitated for a second – and then a second more.
Finally, screwing up the piece of paper in her hand, she made up her mind.
Forcing herself to stand on legs she barely felt could hold her up, she ran for her car.
Chapter 2
“Her name’s Ella Woodson. She went missing earlier this morning, following on from her house and workplace being completely trashed, in what looks like a targeted attack. She’s doing a PhD in biomedicine – it’s complicated stuff, but if you want to read up, I’ve attached a file.”
Callan McKenna was partly listening to his boss’s briefing – he could, thankfully, do more than one thing at a time – but mostly he was looking at the photo of the woman’s face, which was being projected onto the screen in front of him.
Dark hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, glasses balanced on top of her head. Faded freckles across the bridge of her nose. Large, dark brown eyes, looking guardedly at the camera. She wasn’t smiling.
Lonely. The word popped into Callan’s head before he had time to think about it. She’s lonely.
What she is, is missing, he quickly reprimanded himself, tuning in fully to the briefing again. And if you don’t stop staring and start paying attention, you’re not going to know why.
“Is there a reason we’re particularly concerned with a missing persons case?”
To Callan’s left, his fellow field agent Trent Bowman spoke up. There were four of them in this briefing, not including their director, Robb Lockwood. Callan’s closest friend in the agency, Hector Richardson, had remotely dialed in from where he was on leave at his family’s large farm.