Dark Feelings (8)
The eighth instalment in the Dr Pascha Lyle series, published exclusively on Substack
Hello Everyone,
Here’s episode eight of my fiction book Dark Feelings for your weekend reading. The story’s starting to gather pace…exciting even for the author!
Please start at episode one if this your first Dark Feelings post.
Enjoy,
It’s dark, and Zelda stops hard at our corner, turning her head sharply to look behind us, and I nearly fall over her. My breath catches when I see a silhouette dart sideways into the entry alcove of the closed shoe store we just walked passed a few seconds ago.
Jay is going to know where I live again is all I can think as I feel my heart start to pound. I tug Zelda round the corner and we take off, running the 15 metres or so to our building’s thick, glass door. I unlock it, shove it open and look back as Zelda hops into the foyer.
To my horror, the figure turns into our street, featureless against the lights of Chapel Street. I can’t make out a face, even their gender, but I’m not sticking around to find out.
The door clicks locked behind us, and we head straight to the elevator, hitting the up button. I steal a glance back at the security door as the elevator opens, and the figure looms outside the glass. The stranger knocks hard and I almost jump out of my skin.
She yells through the glass,
“Dr Lyle? Can we talk please, Dr Lyle!?”
It’s clearly not Jay, but seriously? I am not up for this sort of shit. Whoever this lady is, she’s just followed me home and knows where I live now. Perfect.
I look longingly at the open elevator, then back at the pitiful face outside the door. I’m more empowered to deal with this if I find out who she is, so I stamp grumpily back to the door, “Can I help you?”
“I’m Pip Wallis,” the woman yells, “I’m looking for my husband, Michael. Is he here?”
Of course, it’s Pip. I didn’t recognise her in the dark and stress of being followed. I drag the heavy security door open begrudgingly,
“Nice to meet you Pip, but not like this and Michael isn’t here. He never has been. And you scared the shit out of me. Since when is it OK to follow someone home?”
“I’m sorry,” Pip’s face crumbles and she cries. She has circles under her eyes in the dim light, like she hasn’t slept in a week. Maybe she hasn’t.
She sniffs, “I thought he was hiding. Maybe ashamed to admit that he’s gone off with you…”
“Absolutely not,” This is really pissing me off, “I have no idea where he is Pip. You know him better than me. I’ve only seen him once in a couple of years…”
Pip pulls out a tissue from her coat and dabs her eyes, “He wrote a letter saying he wants to be with you, so what am I supposed to think?” she’s trying to hold it together, but a big tear rolls down one cheek.
I try to think of something comforting to say, but I’m pissed off, so less is more, as my Gram used to say, “Look, it’s late. You should go home Pip, get some sleep. I can walk you back to the main street to hail a cab, if you like?”
“No, I’m parked not far...I followed you most of the way in my car,” she almost looks happy with herself, which pisses me off even more. I’m leaning on the open lobby door and consider slamming it, but I don’t.
“Where have you looked for him so far?” I might as well make the most of this opportunity to gather intel on the Michael mystery.
“Absolutely everywhere,” Pip meets my eyes, sniffs and snipes, “Do you like my beach house?”
Youch.
Angry tears glint in the corners of her eyes. I take a breath and stop myself going back at her like I want to, instead saying coolly,
“I’ve never been in your house…”
“Don’t bother,” she spits through her tears, “He said he’s in love with you, in writing! My daughters are in pieces. We saw your name. He left it for everyone to see, so don’t bother lying!”
I’ve had enough of being blamed, but I understand the woman’s pain,“Pip, If Michael wrote to me, I haven’t seen it, so, you know more about this than I do. I only had one coffee with him and I was shocked when he said how he felt. If you’ve heard my messages on his machine…”
“I’ve heard it all…”
“OK, then you can tell we weren’t in contact… there’s been nothing.”
Pip sniffs and nods as if we’re on the same page for a second, but apparently she can’t resist a final shot, “You wouldn’t fit into the clothes he bought on our credit card anyway.”
Low blow. I’ve had enough of this. Glary car lights turn into Peel Street and Pip steps back continuing to speak, “If it’s not your stuff, then whose is it?”
“I don’t know. Good night Pip. I hope he contacts you soon.”
I click the door locked and check it as Pip walks briskly away, towards the corner. Zelda’s standing next to the lift looking tired and dejected, ears flat to her head. I push the lift button, shell-shocked by all that.
Has Michael run off, like Pip thinks? With a woman who wears very small clothes? I want answers more than ever now, not just for me, but for Michael’s family too. Even if the wife is being a bit of a nut right now, I get why.
I make a peppermint tea because it has no caffeine and flop onto the couch, dragging the phone over with me. Nathan left a business card with a number that goes to a pager service, so I call and wait. Zelda stretches out beside me, her bony head pressing against my leg.
Nathan opens warmly, “Hello Pash? Everything OK?”
“Hi, yeah, it’s OK, thanks for calling back, I know it’s late…”
“No problem. I was going to call you in the morning…more questions…”
“Well, you got beaten to that.”
“What? Who by?”
“Pip Wallis.”
“What the hell?”
“She gave me a real fright actually, sneaked up behind me outside my apartment…having followed me home in the dark, would you believe?”
“Just now?”
“Yeah….”
“Really? That’s not cool, especially…”
“With my history of getting stalked? Dead right. I thought it was Jay.”
Nathan’s annoyed, “I’ll have a word with her about leaving the questions to me, and Ali. Are you OK?”
“Yeah, bit shaky, but I don’t think she’ll make a repeat appearance…she’s just hurt and angry. She was blaming me, but I think she eventually understood that I know even less than she does…”
Nathan sighs, “She went down to the holiday house with Ali and a forensic guy today, to take a closer look around for prints, that sort of thing. Ali said Pip was very upset…”
“She said there were women’s clothes around the house, like you mentioned.”
“Yup,” he sighs again, “I should ask you tomorrow if you recognise any of them, but I know….” he adds quickly, “You’ve been very clear you haven’t been near the place.”
“Right,” My pointless road trip down there with Fi doesn’t count.
“I think Pip only asked me about the clothes to take a swipe at me. She said they’d be too small for me…”
“Ouch. That’s harsh.”
“Isn’t it?” I laugh, “What kind of clothes were they? I mean, maybe Michael bought them for his girls and didn’t tell Pip?”
“That might stack up, if they hadn’t been used,” I hear Nathan take a drink of something. “There’s dresses, beach stuff, cosmetics around the house. Apparently Pip was shocked when she saw some of them in his bedroom, on the floor.”
“Ew,” I inadvertently spit a mouthful of peppermint tea back into my cup, also splashing it onto my top. I don’t love herbal tea at the best of times. I jump up to get a cloth,
“Hang on a sec please Nathan.”
Zelda lifts her long nose to see where the tea landed in case it’s delicious but decides against it.
I’m trying to put the pieces of this together in a way that explains what Michael could have been thinking, “Hmm, so this woman who was staying with him,” I say, coming back to the couch, “She’s disappeared too? So, I guess if they were sleeping together, they’re probably together…”
“Could be…not many neighbours to observe the comings and goings unfortunately. Something I don’t understand though, if they were together, why does he leave a love letter to another woman visible on his desk…”
“You mean me?”
“Got your name on it. That’s why you aren’t exactly Miss Popularity with his wife and daughters.”
“That’s Dr Popularity.”
“Of course.” I think I got a little laugh out of him.
“Busy man, that Michael,” Nathan says quietly.
I can just stretch the phone cord as far as the bench to put on the kettle for a proper cup of black tea with milk, tipping the remainder of the herbal crap down the sink, “Am I ever going to see this letter, since it’s to me?”
“Yup, you’d better have a look, in case you can make more out of it than I can…”
“Does it say much?”
“It’s only a couple of sentences…looks unfinished…but actually, I’d like to ask you about some more things, that’s why I was going to phone you tomorrow. You said you work Saturdays?”
“Just ‘til lunchtime.”
“I’m hoping you wouldn’t mind acting as almost an off-the-record consultant for me, especially since you’re in Michael’s same line of work?”
“Well, I’m not a forensic specialist, but of course I want to help…”
“I have forensic people. You’re close to this, and I know you want to know where he is, and the girl too. I think we’d benefit from your personal and professional insights…”
“I’m not sure I know anything more, but absolutely…” Is he sweet-talking me, telling me he respects me as a ‘consultant’ when he actually regards me as a person of interest, “To be honest, this week has made me feel like I don’t know Michael at all.
There’s a pause, “Well, his wife believes his recent behaviour is out of character…and that’s where your opinion is important because it seems like you’re the person he was opening up to before he disappeared…”
“Maybe. I’m thinking the woman staying at his house probably knows a lot more than all of us, but I’ll help where I can…”
“Great. Tomorrow?”
“I’m not finished until around 1pm earliest…”
“OK, you know what?” he says brightly, “In that case, why don’t we have a bite to eat, it’s my turn, after the burgers?”
It feels like he’s asking me out. That’s anxiety-provoking right now, made worse by Michael turning our coffee chat into true-confessions and a disappearing act. Nathan seems to pick up on my reticence because he adds,
"Just a chat and a quick lunch. I know you’re busy.”
I guess he’s going to need to ask his questions anyway, “Um, OK. Alex’s downstairs from my office is good. 1pm tomorrow.”
Leaving my building next morning, pale sun makes my tired eyes squint, as I find myself looking around for any sign of Pip Wallis. Of course she’s not here, but after last night’s encounter, my hyper-vigilance switched up a notch.
I grab my coffee from Alex and scan the street before going upstairs. It’s too early yet for the Saturday morning bustle, and my eyes go straight to a man who looks scarily like Jay passing by Chapelli’s Restaurant down the street on the other side. He’s wearing the same shaped long coat that Jay was always lurking around in. My armpits prickle with sweat as adrenaline hits my bloodstream.
I wait, stepping back into Alex’s doorway while a green tram rumbles past, momentarily blocking my view. If it’s Jay, he knows where my office is, and he knows I’m here now, so I make myself wait for the tram to pass, rather than fleeing. I need to be sure.
Of course, by the time the tram’s out of the way, the man’s gone down a side street or into a shop. I can’t see him anywhere. Although it can’t be Jay, it sure as hell looked like him.
I exhale and try to shake off the creeping fear trying to take hold of me, as Zelda and I head upstairs. I’m glad now I’ll be seeing Nathan today.
Sitting down opposite him at Alex’s, it feels kind of like a date, lunch on a Saturday after work. Al’s probably going to grill me about it later, and Fi definitely will.
“The food’s great here Nathan,” I pass him a menu. I don’t need to look. I want the tomato pesto pasta special and some homemade bread with oil.
“Nate’s good,” he smiles opening the menu, “Sometimes I don’t hear Nathan, I’m so used to being called Nate…so if you want me to answer…”
“OK, of course. Nate it is. Listen, before we eat, I have to tell you - I thought I saw Jay this morning down the street…”
“I don’t think that’s possible Pash.”
“I know, but it was someone who looked a lot like him and it really shook me. He is still in custody, in the forensic ward right? Nothing’s changed?”
“Not to my knowledge, but it’s easy to check, if that would give you peace of mind?”
“It would. Do you mind?”
“Not at all, it’s a phone call…”
Alex comes over and I introduce them since he was miffed when I didn’t introduce him to Michael. When Nathan orders his coffee he asks, “And what will you have Pash?”
“It’s OK,” Alex jumps in “I know what she has.”
Nate smiles when Alex goes, “I guess you come here a lot…”
“Every day, pretty much.”
“Cool. I’ll get the business out of the way so we can relax and have something to eat, then?” He pulls an envelope out of his pocket, opens it and carefully lays out six polaroids on the table. They’re all medications.
“Are these from Michael’s?”
“They are. Can you tell what they are from the photos?” He asks, “What each one treats? They’re with forensics, but I’m impatient…”
“Um, maybe. They didn’t have labelled packs with them?”
“No, these were in one of those pill boxes, divided up into days, so probably all for the same person, right?” He points to the top two photos.
“I assume so,” I squint at the photos, looking for the markings on the pills. As it turns out, I can reel off the names of the drugs easily because they’re all garden-variety,
“Painkillers of varying potencies, these are sleeping pills here, I think…three kinds, which is weirdly excessive.”
“Yup, there were a few plastic bottles of those, also unlabelled,” Nate looks impressed at my answers and lays out two more pictures, “There were also these. Do you recognise these, off the top of your head?”
I look closely, “Well, maybe, if the markings are genuine, they’re benzos, for anxiety, but they look a little bit different, not a brand I know, so I’m guessing on that one.”
I look at the remaining picture,
“OK, these I know because half my patients take them and they’re in the foil, which helps. They’re for severe mental health problems - anti-psychotics. Michael cannot have been taking these. I mean, he wouldn’t have been…they must be someone else’s…”
“Yup, someone’s had a few...”
“And whoever it is, they shouldn’t have stopped taking them suddenly. They’d have withdrawal symptoms if they didn’t get another prescription...” I pause as the dots join, “I’ve just realised, these are what the girl asked me for, Harley, the girl who said Michael referred her, then ran off. These are what she wanted…”
Nate nods thoughtfully, tapping his index finger on the picture, “I wondered if that might be the case.”
Alex brings our coffee and there’s a moment of silence while we pause to drink.
“So do you think she was at his house?”
“It’s my best guess at the moment…”
“Oh wow. Do you think the clothes in his bedroom belonged to her too? That would be extremely unethical on his part.”
“We really don’t know, but you said Harley brought up his name, that she felt rejected, and you had a sense maybe she meant Michael. Now we’ve confirmed these are the kind of pills she asked you for, maybe the clothes could be hers....”
“I had low level concern, but this takes it up a notch. I just didn’t see Michael ever doing something like that…but I didn’t see him ever saying what he said to me either….” I sigh.
Alex brings the food and we pause to eat some delicious pasta. Alex has a fabulous chef.
“This is very good,” Nate tucks in, “So, how normal do you think it is, for Michael to have all those medications at home? I mean, do you keep stuff like this at your place?”
“No, it’s a lot. I’d say it’s unusual.”
I glance at the table where I sat with Michael last week. I’m still puzzling why he would pursue me when he had another woman staying in his bedroom. He sounded so genuine, if a bit out of character…
“Can I ask what you were thinking about just now?” Nate asks, “You have a very far away expression.”
“Oh, I just can’t believe I’m here now with a detective because my ex-supervisor, who declared his undying love to me has now gone missing. It’s all a little surreal.”
“Things tend to be dramatic in my job,” Nate smiles as he takes another big forkful, “Big things that change lives can happen so quickly.”
He raises his water glass, “Here’s to finding Michael Wallis safe and sound and getting a simple explanation.”
“And Harley,” I add, “But what if they’re just away somewhere together, having a lovely time, and this is all a false alarm? I mean, this could be nothing more than a doctor behaving badly with a patient, right?”
“Maybe…”
“Is this your usual kind of case? I’m thinking, there’s no evidence of violence or what do you call it, ‘foul play’ or anything, is there? If he’s seeing a young patient it’s definitely grounds for de-registration, but is that always a criminal matter?”
“Depends,” he takes another big mouthful of pasta, “Could come to nothing.”
“So why are you and Alison looking for him and not the uniformed policed?”
“Well, those pills aren’t the only thing I wanted to talk about,” Nate puts down his fork, looking serious.
“There were some other prescription drugs we also found in the house that are fully labelled and identifiable as his.”
“OK?”
Nate shuffles the small stack of photos and pulls out a new one, “These were in Dr Wallis’ bathroom…”
“What, oh?”
“Yup. He was being treated for something serious…I’m told a degenerative disorder of some kind.”
“Oh my God, really?”
“He missed two important medical appointments this week,” Nate says quietly, “I’m going to talk to his specialist on Monday, but I believe that Michael, Dr Wallis is quite unwell.”
“I had no idea,” but my mind immediately takes me back to his shaky hands. I did notice he was thinner, and that maybe he had a tremor.
“The fact that he has a serious illness made the investigating officer wonder about potential suicide risk, and he brought us in. Then there’s an unknown house guest who has also disappeared, unlabelled drugs everywhere, and no note apart from an unfinished love letter that looks hopeful rather than suicidal. The situation looked complex and unusual…so here we are.”
“The thing that surprises me most about this,” my breath catches and I feel suddenly embarrassingly emotional, “Is that I used to think I knew Michael well, and I thought he was always so real and by the book…I hate that now I’m not so sure…”
“He was a person you trusted and didn’t think would disappear on you, or do the wrong thing by someone. I get it. It’s disappointing. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
Nathan is more insightful and kinder than I expected him to be. I finish my pasta and put my knife and fork down. “Now,” I need to get this off my chest, “Can I please ask you about something unrelated?”
“Sure.”
“OK. Weirdly, there’s another friend and colleague of mine, Anton, and he’s taken off somewhere this week too according to his partner Cass. She’s basically left him and taken their daughter up to stay at her folks in Sydney, because she reckons he’s been cheating on her, but I also find that very hard to believe.”
“Is Cass worried about him?”
“Not in the slightest. She’s furious with him, but Fi and I are getting very worried. It’s completely out of character for him not to keep in touch, especially to cancel our therapy group for two weeks, without talking to me.”
“OK, I see.”
“He just told his office, without giving any details of what’s going on. He’s one of my closest friends, and I can’t help thinking that him and Michael disappearing in a week and a half is a massive coincidence, right?”
“Yup…but different circumstances. I mean Anton said he was going away, didn’t he?”
“Yes and no. Not directly to me, or Fi, he didn’t say a thing. He didn’t even return our phone calls, and we’re close, like I said. Is there something I can do to check he’s ok? Can you help me with that?”
“Sure. We can do a welfare check, so long as Cass doesn’t mind.”
“I’ll call her. What does it entail?”
“We’d go to the house with her permission, look for him, or any signs of his whereabouts. But check with her first…he might have been in contact, and now she knows where he is but doesn’t want to see him. Usually there’s a very easy answer…”
“OK. Thanks Nate.”
“No problems at all. Another coffee?”
“Why not?” I just can’t help liking him.
Ooooo. The plot thickens !!! Gripping story !