I study him curiously, taking my time to answer. I shape my wordscarefully now, softly, languidly. I want them to melt from me. “I just moved here yesterday,” I breathe. “I’m originally from Darwin.”
“This your first time in Tasmania?” His eyes are hungry. Good. He’ll do. I wonder if he wants children, because I do. Three.
“Yes.” I smile warmly. “First time.”
It took nine hours on the ferry to get here from Melbourne. I won’t be going back. I can’t.
“Shout out if you need anything else.” He winks meaningfully, wipes his hands on his black apron, and reluctantly steps back inside the half-filled café. The Power Plant Café is within walking distance of the hotel I’m staying at. It’s nothing much, but they let me pay in cash. I couldn’t take any furniture from Black Wood House, obviously. Not with Emily lying dead upstairs and the police snooping around for days on end. I’d grabbed Reaper, and we’d hidden out for a week in the forest, sleeping on the bloody ground in a sleeping bag and cooking two-minute noodles on a little gas burner. That was a strange week in the forest, to say the least. By then, I figured the newspaper had revealed all my secrets. It’s a shame I wasn’t there to watch it unravel. That would have been interesting.
One night, I lay awake under the ghost gums, thinking. I’ve spent all my life running. Suddenly it was just me, Reaper, and all the terrible things I’ve done. Somehow I always end up lost and completely alone. What did Emily say?You repeat what you don’t repair.
It was time. I needed to turn myself in and confess it all. I needed to get help.
But if there’s one thing I know about me, the real me, it’s that Idon’t wantto change. I like slipping into people’s skins.
I’m good at it.
I mean, Idofeel like shit about Emily. I didn’t mean to kill her. Carbon-monoxide poisoning makes people do very strange things…like accidentally murder people. The whole thing is a nightmarish blur. All I remember is trying to protect my sister. I was certain Sarah was in that attic with me. Hallucinations are common after long-termexposure to carbon monoxide. I wish I’d known that earlier, but it makes so much sense now. Poor me. Poor Amanda. Her bones were found on the roof. The roof! I don’t know how the hell she got up there. Police are still trying to figure that one out. All that nonsense about the bug she found in the wall. All my suspicions that Jeff Johnson was poisoning me, when it was actually the house. Hedidpay his cousin to break into my office and get some dirt on me to drive me out. But other than that…
I stare off into the distance. It’s very green in Tasmania; everything smells clean and brand new. I find myself gulping in the air, trying to flush Black Wood’s toxins. I don’t miss Melbourne. But I do miss Emily. It’s too bad. All of it. IlovedEmily. She was so, so nice. And now…I sigh heavily, leaning back in the stiff wooden chair and smiling at the passersby. Poor Emily. Poor Sarah. That’s two people I’ve had a hand in killing. And Emily had so many unfulfilled dreams. But no matter! I’ve got a plan.
I place the ceramic mug on the nut-brown table, and Reaper stares at a sparrow picking at a crust on the sidewalk. His tail flicks back and forth; his eyes are clear and focused. It’s a miracle he survived, my boy. But he’s a fighter, like me.
Carefully, I glance over my shoulder, making sure I’m alone. When I’m certain no one’s watching, I look down at my brand-new smartphone on my knee. I click on the ABC News website, Melbourne’s number one news source, and reread an article from yesterday.
FIRST BODY FINALLY IDENTIFIED IN BLACK WOOD MURDERS
July 6
ABC News, Melbourne
The mystery of the first body found at Black Wood House has finally been solved. Police have identified missing Beacon woman, Emily Thompson,as the first victim. The mother of three was found in the Black Wood attic with blunt-force injury to the head. Police revealed that the family of the 36-year-old were visiting relatives in Canberra and did not report her missing for days.
In a tragic twist of events, it seems Thompson told her husband that she wouldn’t be answering her phone for a while. She’d also taken annual leave at Mercy Community, where she worked as a grief and loss therapist, so her colleagues did not report her missing.
“Unfortunately, neither the family nor her colleagues realized she was missing,” police reveal. “Until today, we couldn’t find a next of kin to identify her body.”
“It’s so sad to think she was lying there dead for days and no one knew,” neighbor Jeff Johnson said. “Black Wood has such a tragic history. For too long now, Black Wood House has been the blight of Beacon. God forbid, something’s happened to Sarah. We’d love to see it bulldozed.”
Police still hold grave fears about missing homeowner, Sarah Slade. It’s understood they’re currently interviewing a person of interest in her disappearance.
I flick to this morning’s headline and read it over and over again. A wild giggle bursts out of my mouth, and I quickly cover it with the back of my hand. I devour the headline, beaming.
JOE COSGROVE, HUSBAND OF MISSING WOMAN SARAH SLADE, ARRESTED FOR BLACK WOOD MURDER
There he is. My darling, shiny-haired, cheating husband, front and center of the website. He’s wide-eyed and terrified, with a vaguely guilty expression on his face. Wonder what his new girlfriend thinks of this.
I snort my laughter, feeling like I’ve won a war. I hum a little tune and sip the lavender tea. I truly didn’t expect the police to pin Emily’s murder on Joe. But it’s a nice little bonus for all he put me through.
They’ll never find the murder weapon. All I really remember after the incident with Emily is waking up in the forest with my fist around the hammer. I buried it at the foot of a ghost gum.
If he’s got a good enough alibi, he might still get off. But for now, good riddance, Joe! They’ll find out you’re Liam Martin soon enough. And…I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. That letter I sent Andy. I’m sure he thought I was a nutter when he read my rambling message. But once he finds out that his best mate is really Liam Martin, maybe old Andy will take that letter to the police. Maybe they’ll start an investigation into my sister’s “suicide.” And maybe one day soon there will be another headline:Joe Cosgrove Arrested or Murder of Sister-In-Law.
I stop humming. If they figure out who Liam Martin is, then they’ll soon discover who I really am too. The Sarah Slade skin is over. It’s bittersweet, like moving away from home. Tears sting my eyelids, but I’m ready. Goodbye, sister, I tell Sarah. Goodbye for good. Goodbye, Black Wood House.
I bring the mug to my lips, feeling the steam warm my cheeks. I shake my head, wry smile on my face. Black Wood House had me so crazy that I actually thought it wasalive.I thought it was speaking to me. I even thought we understood each other. Me and Black Wood House, rotten to the core.
I take a sip of lavender tea, thinking. When I was hiding out in the forest, freezing in a sleeping bag with Reaper curled at my feet, I wondered why I was still alive. Susan Campbell. Bill Campbell. Amanda Vale. Emily Thompson. Four Black Wood victims. Why was I spared?
