Page 132 of Last Shot

‘Listen to this.’ Max read from the screen:

I want my clothes back.

But I want you to stay.

Follow this link.

Tell me what you think.

Huh! That rhymes. It wasn’t meant to rhyme. Now all I can think of is words that rhyme! All the time! How sublime!

Max.

I don’t want the underwear back, by the way.

‘What’s the link to?’

‘A job advertisement?’ Max scrolled. ‘From her law firm – they’re looking for a private investigator to join their team.’

Greyson held his breath but nothing in her voice gave away what she thought of Nella’s bold-as-batshit wingman gesture – trying to get Max to stay in Bindi Bindi Cove.

He couldn’t let himself hope. Max’s whole life was in the city – she’d only just gotten out of jail, there’d be things she needed to do, people she needed to see again, an apartment to go back to and to feel at home in after so much time away. Thankfully, the need for someone to fill the strained silence after Nella’s intrusion was obliged by Max’s phone again as it trilled its stock ringtone through Bessy’s cab.

‘I need jet fuel to hear sounds at that decibel.’ He winced as she shushed him.

‘It’s that private number again!’

He turned down the radio, just back into range for the city stations, as Max took the call.

‘Max speaking. Hi, Alexandra?’ She frowned at Grey, who shrugged.I dunno why she’s calling.

‘We’re about twenty-five minutes out from you guys. Did someone tell you I’d be coming— What? No! I ...’ Her voice trailed off.

Grey indicated to pull over but she almost took out his eye gesturing for him to stay on the road.

‘When?’ Max whispered. Grey’s stomach curled into a sodden lump at the sound in her voice. ‘Okay, okay. We’ll be there soon. Do you think you can pull the tapes for us?’

‘What’s happened?’ Grey exhaled as Max ended the call. He pressed Betty’s accelerator and the car responded obligingly.

‘There’s no point speeding,’ she said quietly. ‘Libby’s dead.’

47

Max

‘I should have said something.’ Grey’s face was hard angles of fury as he ripped the keys from Bessy’s ignition in the visitors’ parking lot. ‘I should have told her what really happened, begged for forgiveness, something ...’

‘And what good would have come from that?’ Max asked. ‘She’d already made up her mind that you or all the Barbaranis were responsible for Rocky falling off that balcony. Nothing you said would have changed that. You could have driven him home and put him to bed and if he’d died from an overdose or from an undiagnosed brain tumour, she still would have found a way to blame you. That’s what women like Libby do, that’s how they justify their worldview.’

Neither of them said anything else as they jogged over the loose grey bitumen of the visitors’ car park, though Max wondered if something had relaxed ever so slightly in Grey’s shoulders.

‘You were never here, okay?’ Alexandra looked over her shoulder as she ushered them through security. ‘We’ve got about five minutes before shift change and you’ll have about thirty seconds from then to get out before you get locked back in here again, Conrad. Everything’s changed now that we’ve had a ...’

‘Death,’ Grey said, as though he was still trying to convince himself.

‘How did it happen?’ Max demanded, her heart thundering in revolt against her body for dragging it back into this place.

‘We can’t be sure,’ Alexandra said.

---