Medea's Curse Read Online Free

provide much information. No one seemed to think anything
more than bad parenting was involved in Chloe’s disappearance. The story had only
warranted brief mentions in the metropolitan papers, but it had made the front page
of the Welbury Leader . One picture included Travis but Natalie wouldn’t have recognised
him. Only his eyes were the same as she remembered, a slightly puppy-dog look. More
self-assured now, in a fuller face with the goatee neatly trimmed. His chin was thrust
towards the photographer, meaning business in a way that had been absent on the steps
of the Supreme Court. Tiphanie, the baby’s mother, had her head turned, avoiding
the camera. Didn’t she want her fifteen minutes of fame? Chloe looked sweet, vulnerable
and innocent. In this photo she was holding a small soft toy.
    Natalie arrived at the pub early after a short walk in fine rain through the backstreets,
her neighbourhood of factories closing down for the night as she passed. Liam had
suggested a city bar, likely to be full of lawyers and stockbrokers, but she had
insisted on her local. She could free up her mind talking to the bar staff and be
ready for Liam when he arrived.
    The Halfpenny was one of those Collingwood classics named for an old-school union
leader. In contrast to the tapas bars and cocktail lounges of Smith and Gertrude
streets only a block away, it was a seventies throwback with faded floral carpets,
walls crowded with photos and a No thongs or shorts notice over the doorway.
    Vince, the owner, wasn’t there. His son Benny, with his red Mohawk reverting to frizz
in the damp air, nodded in acknowledgment. Maggie behind the bar had opened a Corona
and put a lime wedge in place before Natalie had even made it across the room.
    ‘He’s waiting for you in the corner,’ said Maggie, tilting her head to her left.
    Natalie took the beer. ‘Come again?’
    Maggie shrugged with a smile that suggested approval. Vince wouldn’t have been as
easily persuaded, Natalie thought as she glanced where Maggie had indicated. The
lighting was dim but she could make out Liam in the corner watching her, sitting
in front of a picture of Vince with a footballer in Collingwood black and white.
    ‘Casing the joint?’ Natalie asked as she joined him.
    ‘I like to be knowing the lie of the land.’ He was drinking a Guinness. Of course.
    ‘Does the leprechaun impression usually work for you?’ she asked, trying not to grin
as she sat down at the table. She put her feet up on the third chair and took a slug
of the Corona, looking him over as she did. With his curling black hair, only slightly
grey at the temples, and an open-neck shirt and leather jacket, Liam could have passed
as something other than a lawyer. Almost. ‘So tell me about Travis.’
    ‘Over dinner.’ He took a sip from his glass, eyes never leaving her. ‘Do you live
around here?’
    Natalie pushed the lime into the bottle. ‘I like Collingwood.’ Was he testing her
out or trying to show he hadn’t done a background check? ‘I thought there was a lot
to talk about. The case. Now seems a good time to start.’
    Liam waved for another drink. ‘Winding down from a hard day at the office first.
Helps focus my attention.’
    Yeah, right. Focus it on what?
    ‘So how did someone like you end up a forensic shrink?’
    ‘Someone like me? What does that mean?’ Natalie inwardly cursed herself. She’d let
him draw her away from the main issue.
    ‘Well…’ Liam lay back against the picture of Nathan Buckley and finished his drink
as Maggie brought another. ‘Not—shall we say—mainstream?’
    ‘That good or bad?’
    ‘More earrings than I can count? Motorbike that’s too big for you? I’d lay bets on
a tattoo somewhere. Right? Interesting.’
    He was right. Annoyingly. Safer to answer his original question. ‘Why forensic psych?
Amber’s case, in part. Plus a run-in with a motorcycle club; their psychopathology
intrigued me.’
    ‘I’m guessing that all makes you