straight from the interview room into the ladies bathroom.
She stopped in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at the woman looking back at her. She recognised her but felt little connection to her. So familiar, yet so strange.
My ability to overcome my obstacles is limitless.
The blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, the stray wisps of hair plastered into place with mousse to present a neat and tidy appearance. She looked like an experienced police officer, someone who could easily tackle difficult problems. Sammi saw right through her.
There was only one cubicle. She locked the door. She flipped the toilet lid shut and slumped down on it. She put her face in her hands, concentrating on breathing and nothing more.
13
She looked at her hands. Sometimes she hardly recognised them. Since when had the lumpy veins developed? It was like they had aged overnight. She pinched at the back of one hand. The skin puckered and wrinkled, then slowly pulled flat again once she let go.
Yesterday she had felt old. Old and powerless. And yet, at the same time, a seething fury had churned her stomach. The mere thought of Peter Woodford brought bile to the back of her throat.
Today she knew she had to do something. Anything. She didnât want the anger to eat her alive. She had seen how powerlessness could destroy a person from the inside out.
She pulled on a pair of latex gloves, snapping them high at the wrist. She went to the small printer next to the computer and pulled out a single piece of paper. Pure white and unblemished. She selected a black marker, the type that most households had tucked in a drawer somewhere. This would be the easy part. The rope would be more difficult. She had googled it. The instructions were in front of her on the computer. But, although she was a practical person, her fingers fumbled, the gloves getting repeatedly caught between the rope.
She appraised it when it was finished. She had twisted and pulled until it looked right. There was no mistaking what it meant. Hopefully they would act. Surely they would do something now.
She found a large brown envelope. She brought it into the kitchen and ran a little water over her gloved finger to moisten the seal. She knew better than to lick it, she understood what DNA was. The rest of the task would have to wait until night time.
It wasnât much. But it was something.
14
By the time Bob came back, the shake in Sammiâs hands had subsided.
âMy son got a silver medal in backstroke, and bronze in the relay,â he announced with a big smile.
âAnd you and the boss get a gold medal in bad timing,â Sammi replied.
The smile faded from his face as he sat down opposite her. Mel came around from the counter and leant on the door jamb.
âUh-oh,â Bob groaned.
âWe had a frigginâ lynch mob at the front counter,â Sammi said. âAnd the boss did a runner.â
Mel nodded her head. âJaney,â she said simply, as if it needed no further explanation. Bob winced.
âNone of my business though?â Sammi asked. Although she liked Bob, she couldnât stop the sarcasm tinging her words.
âIt happened so long ago. Heâs been quiet for years, you hardly even see him around town. I didnât think we should be dredging it all back up. Shane took it badly. I think that was one of the reasons he left the CPIU all those years ago. I told him about the note but we thought it was someone shit-stirring.â
âIt must have been a huge job back then. Now, the same guy gets accused of doing the same shit, of course thereâs going to be some backlash. You and the boss arenât the only ones who remember it.â Sammi shook her head.
âI really didnât think he would have the gall to do it again,â Bob said. âA lot of people were keeping a close eye on him for a long time. Everyone referred to him as âPete the Pedâ, like a reminder to keep away from
She stopped in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at the woman looking back at her. She recognised her but felt little connection to her. So familiar, yet so strange.
My ability to overcome my obstacles is limitless.
The blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, the stray wisps of hair plastered into place with mousse to present a neat and tidy appearance. She looked like an experienced police officer, someone who could easily tackle difficult problems. Sammi saw right through her.
There was only one cubicle. She locked the door. She flipped the toilet lid shut and slumped down on it. She put her face in her hands, concentrating on breathing and nothing more.
13
She looked at her hands. Sometimes she hardly recognised them. Since when had the lumpy veins developed? It was like they had aged overnight. She pinched at the back of one hand. The skin puckered and wrinkled, then slowly pulled flat again once she let go.
Yesterday she had felt old. Old and powerless. And yet, at the same time, a seething fury had churned her stomach. The mere thought of Peter Woodford brought bile to the back of her throat.
Today she knew she had to do something. Anything. She didnât want the anger to eat her alive. She had seen how powerlessness could destroy a person from the inside out.
She pulled on a pair of latex gloves, snapping them high at the wrist. She went to the small printer next to the computer and pulled out a single piece of paper. Pure white and unblemished. She selected a black marker, the type that most households had tucked in a drawer somewhere. This would be the easy part. The rope would be more difficult. She had googled it. The instructions were in front of her on the computer. But, although she was a practical person, her fingers fumbled, the gloves getting repeatedly caught between the rope.
She appraised it when it was finished. She had twisted and pulled until it looked right. There was no mistaking what it meant. Hopefully they would act. Surely they would do something now.
She found a large brown envelope. She brought it into the kitchen and ran a little water over her gloved finger to moisten the seal. She knew better than to lick it, she understood what DNA was. The rest of the task would have to wait until night time.
It wasnât much. But it was something.
14
By the time Bob came back, the shake in Sammiâs hands had subsided.
âMy son got a silver medal in backstroke, and bronze in the relay,â he announced with a big smile.
âAnd you and the boss get a gold medal in bad timing,â Sammi replied.
The smile faded from his face as he sat down opposite her. Mel came around from the counter and leant on the door jamb.
âUh-oh,â Bob groaned.
âWe had a frigginâ lynch mob at the front counter,â Sammi said. âAnd the boss did a runner.â
Mel nodded her head. âJaney,â she said simply, as if it needed no further explanation. Bob winced.
âNone of my business though?â Sammi asked. Although she liked Bob, she couldnât stop the sarcasm tinging her words.
âIt happened so long ago. Heâs been quiet for years, you hardly even see him around town. I didnât think we should be dredging it all back up. Shane took it badly. I think that was one of the reasons he left the CPIU all those years ago. I told him about the note but we thought it was someone shit-stirring.â
âIt must have been a huge job back then. Now, the same guy gets accused of doing the same shit, of course thereâs going to be some backlash. You and the boss arenât the only ones who remember it.â Sammi shook her head.
âI really didnât think he would have the gall to do it again,â Bob said. âA lot of people were keeping a close eye on him for a long time. Everyone referred to him as âPete the Pedâ, like a reminder to keep away from
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