‘Meth?’ The tight set to Jemma’s face said that she was prepared to judge not only Tara, but probably all of Settlers Bridge, for the presence of the drug. ‘That’s going to get messy.’
‘You don’t say.’ Like they really needed her rapier-sharp legal mind on the case. ‘Anyway, Sam, I was wonderingwhether you could have a word with her? You know, just try to find out what’s going on.’
Jemma set aside her cutlery. ‘What’s going on is either she was drugged or she’s lying.’
‘Sounds like you’re judging her.’ All of their conversations seemed to come back to Jemma’s need to evaluate—and find lacking—every other person.
‘I’m not.’ Jemma sounded taken aback. ‘I’m assessing her.’
‘That’s a fine-line distinction. And like you’d know anything about this. Or perhaps you know something about everything?’
‘Actually—’ Sam’s hand landed gently over his closed fist on the table. ‘Jemma may have useful insight. Jemma?’
The lawyer chewed on her lip, then glanced at Pierce. He nodded, and she blew out a sharp breath and rolled her eyes—dark and flashing—but when she spoke her voice was low, reluctant.
‘I grew up with an addict.’
Hamish’s gaze shot to Pierce, but Jemma gave a short laugh. ‘I should say I grew uppart-timewith an addict. My mum has been in and out of rehab all my life. That’s how I know that if Tara has chosen to take meth, things are going to get messy.’ She sounded defensive rather than abrasive.
‘We don’t know that she has, though,’ Hamish said, scrambling to mesh this new piece of information with the impression he’d formed of Jemma. He’d figured her as the product of a private school, a girl who’d had everything handed to her. But a drug addict for a mum? That was hardcore. ‘Tara isn’t a druggie. If anything, she’d just be experimenting.’
Jemma shook her head. ‘That’s the thing about GHB. You mess with it, thinking you have everything under control. Right up until it messes with you.’
‘I get that, but she’s almost twenty-one. We all did it. I mean, not necessarily hard stuff, but booze, dope, whatever.’ He couldn’t shake the notion that it was his job to protect Tara, protect her reputation, even if that meant defending behaviour he didn’t condone. ‘We all had fun at that age.’
‘What don’t you understand?’ Jemma snapped. ‘This is notfun—and I can assure you, we didn’t all do it.’
Any kind of tenuous rapport he’d built with her was gone now, but he couldn’t let her have the last word. ‘Tara has a right to her own choices.’
‘She also has an equal right to her own regrets,’ Pierce suggested.
‘She does,’ Sam agreed. ‘But isn’t it better to protect people from unnecessarily suffering from regret? I’m all for having fun, but there are limits, and perhaps someone needs to spell that out. Tara needs to realise that it’s not only her who is affected by her decision. I mean, look what a crap time Heath and Sean have had with Charlee’s addiction. Tara’s mum doesn’t need that—she’s had enough worry to last a lifetime.’
Tragedy seemed too common in their community, but that was an illusion created by their intimate knowledge of one another’s stories.
‘Yeah, see, that’s exactly where I am,’ Hamish said, the rush of relief at having shared and evidently halved this problem lifting a weight from his shoulders. Even Jemma’s input was suddenly welcome. ‘I just don’t know whatI’msupposed to do about it.’
‘Look, Hamish.’ Jemma’s tone was surprisingly gentle, as though pleading with him. ‘If you care about Tara, you need to cut off her supply. Immediately.’ She turned to Sam. ‘All due respect, Sam, but it’s not something to have a conversation about, or stage some kind of intervention. We need to tackle the source.’
‘The problem is finding out where it came from.’
‘It can’t be that hard,’ Sam said. ‘After all, this is Settlers Bridge; not many secrets stay secret, do they?’
‘Some do,’ Pierce said, kissing her forehead. ‘You managed to play your cards close to your chest for far too long. But I’m not sure Jemma is right.’
Hamish cocked an eyebrow. Pierce was a brave man.
‘First we need to work out if Tara has used,’ Pierce said, ‘is using and intends to continue using.’
Hamish grimaced as it seemed the plan would be redirected toward him, but Jemma spoke up.
‘I wonder if, being new in town, I could infiltrate? I’ll make friends with Tara and let her think I’m keen to score. Then, if she is using, I’ll get the details of her contact. Boom.’
Hamish used Jemma’s parody of a mic drop as an excuse to stare. Who was this woman who not only exuded confidence in her own abilities, but also had the strategy and apparently competence to follow through?
17
Jemma
