Secrets

By Sen Mack

Emma Foley, a 22 year old University law student, arrives home to find her father Luke bent over the bath, her mother, Holly in his arms and pills on the bench. Paramedics are called but it's too late.

When Senior Detective Kristina Hamilton is called to attend the scene of the suicide, she has other thoughts about what might have happened. How many bath drownings are actually suicide? The first person in her sight is Luke.

The same day, multiple bodies are found at Mt. Disappointment, now there's a serial killer on the loose.

Kristina's job has increased exponentially by the number of bodies found in the forest and is still increasing.

Emma discovers her father is a suspect and being a loyal daughter, doesn't believe he is capable of hurting her mother. However there are unspoken doubts.

She discovers her mother kept a secret for years and her goal is to not only discover that secret, but also who might have had cause to kill her. Unfortunately the list of people grows as she embarks on a journey which leads her in a totally unexpected direction.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: GCM Books
• Release date: May 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201700737

Sen Mack

Sen Mack is a Melbourne based author who developed a love for writing late in her life. Her career in the funeral industry instilled a discipline needed to take on writing as a full time career and her debut novel Secrets has now been published. Her next novel Lake Sherlock is well under way as she moves into her new writing journey.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Adriana Coletti, the Channel 9 newsreader sat behind her desk, her back upright, looking elegant, not a blonde hair out of place and makeup perfectly applied for her shift on the late program. She waited for the signal from her producer. A makeup artist hovered around, and dabbed her cheeks to remove the excessive perspiration. Adriana heard the count and looked down the lens of the camera.

4-3-2- 

BREAKING NEWS flashed across the screen

"We begin with breaking news. The disappearance of a woman from her home in Burwood has sparked interest from police. Her family hadn’t listed their daughter as missing until today as they believed she had gone away on a holiday. She had not been heard from for four days into her trip which was highly unusual for her. Her parents said she normally texted them on arrival at the holiday destination.

"Police advised her credit card and Facebook accounts have not been active. When they checked her home today, her suitcase still sitting in the doorway. Her parents are distraught and have appealed to anyone who might have seen her in the last few days, to please contact police.

Police have stepped up their investigations into the spate of missing women over the last 6 months.

Adriana Coletti reporting.

I sat on the sofa with Pru, my lifelong friend, half listening to the news report about another abduction of someone else’s girlfriend, wife or someone I didn’t know. We were busy planning our run the following morning to train for the Leukaemia marathon in four months’ time. We’d been training for weeks now enjoying the fact we were running further each time we went out. I was thankful I had Pru with me to take my mind off my family problems of the past week.

I looked up and saw Pru’s eyes glued to the television.

Those poor girls. You’re not even safe in your own home. I’m glad I still live at home.

Me too. I won’t be leaving until I finish Uni.

Emma, what made you want to study law?

Mum. She got to where I am now, but then didn’t go further. I want to finish what she started.

You’re gonna be so good. She tossed her locks of curly red hair back from her face.

Huh, we’ll have to wait and see. The study is hard, but I’m willing to give it my all.

You’ll do it.

I leant back over toward her with our road map showing on the iPad and continued plotting the path we would take in the morning.

Chapter 2

What drama would I go home to today? Keep running, stop thinking about them, Emma, we’ve only got a hundred metres to go and today is a new day. Surely the fighting will be over. The early summer sun sent its hot rays down to the top of my head burning my scalp. The only relief, a light breeze as my ponytail swished from side to side. The hot pavement charred the souls of my feet through my runners. My calves were red and taut. This burst of heat was unusual for this time of year, but we were in Melbourne. Four seasons in one day. We were both exhausted as we turned into my street.

Emma, I need to stop for a moment.

We slowed down to catch our breath under the shade of the first plane tree. I loved this street. In autumn, brightly coloured leaves would drop to the ground like a warm woollen blanket. In the winter, when the trees were completely void of leaves, they’d take on another look. Their branches would intertwine like arms in a mystical and eerie way. They held a special place for me, a secret not many knew about.

I hope I don’t walk into a massive fight again. Puffing as each word came out.

All parents fight, Emma. Pru said.

Not like this. Frustrated at how my parents had been with each other lately. My mother, well, she was a total mess right now.

Stop worrying about them. Believe me, it’s normal.

Alright, alright. Come on slacker, let’s get home. It’s too bloody hot out here. We jogged the rest of the way until we reached my house past Pru’s car. Coming through the backdoor into the kitchen, it seemed eerily quiet, except for the shower running upstairs. I knew my father wasn’t going to be home, he was out house hunting. He had told me that morning, he’d be gone for two or three hours. Pru got two glasses down from the cupboard and filled them with ice water from the fridge and handed one to me.

Thanks. I sculled it in two seconds flat. I’ll go and check on Mum. She’s in the shower so she’s up. She must be OK.

I ran up the stairs with a new burst of energy, glad to know her meds had worked and her condition improved. The previous week had been one of the worst with my grandmother’s funeral and then my mum’s episode, that’s what my father called it. The bedroom was empty which is what I expected. What I didn’t expect was steam everywhere. It had escaped through the open door and floated across the ceiling.

The shower was empty and the temperature had been turned to hot. Too hot for anyone to stand under. I leant in through the doorway of the steamy room, put the exhaust fan on and turned the hot water tap off. Water splashed from the bath and as my eyes focused through the steam, my father’s body came into view. He was leaning over the soaker tub, his arms around my mother.

Dad, what are you doing? What’s happened? Is Mum OK?

No, she’s not, help me get her out, he said, with heartache all over his face.

Pru! Desperation evident in my voice, as I called to my friend.

She ran up the stairs and stopped at the door. She gasped as both hands went to her mouth.

Pru, ring 000, quick. Dad, I’ll grab her legs.

She was right under the water. She’s gone, Emma.

No, don’t worry. Just get her out. We have to try to do something.

I leaned over and grabbed her legs from the cool water. We lifted but my hands slipped down to her ankles.

My God, she’s too slippery. I twisted and grabbed a hand towel from the rail to grip her legs. Come on Dad. Lift her now and put her down on the floor. Quick.

I leant over again and wrapped both my arms under her knees, now I had a better grip with Dad taking hold of the upper part of her body.

1-2-3, he said.

The weight of her body pulled me forward, but the strength I needed to lift, came from deep within. We managed to bring her up over the high edge of the soaker tub and we laid her down on the tiled floor.

Dad, why is she in the bath in her nightie? And why is the shower running? What’s happened here?

I don’t know.

An overturned pill bottle lay on top of the vanity.

The situation intensified with Pru’s booming voice being carried down the stairway. She spat the address out to 000 Emergency and yelled ‘Hurry, it’s urgent.’

We stretched my mother out on the floor face up. I shook her shoulders to get a reaction. My perspiration covered top was now soaking wet.

Mum, wake up. It’s Emma. Mum. I shook her more, but got nothing back. On my knees, I tilted her head upwards and listened for breathing, nothing.  I started compressions 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8... How many did I have to do? I tried to remember my first aid training 3 years earlier. My father leant across to stop me.

Dad, what are you doing? Let me keep going. Can you move back please? I’ve got it.

His willingness to give up bothered me. Some water came from her mouth, falling down onto the already soaking wet floor.

Dad, roll that hand towel up will you and put it under Mum’s neck?

Emma, she’s gone. Stop!

No, I’m not stopping. Get out of my way, please Dad.

Pru came back to the doorway. They’re on their way, she said, with both hands still over her mouth.

I continued compressions, only stopping to hear if she was breathing. There was nothing. I kept going.

Come on Mum, breathe. Still nothing. Breathe will you, come on, I’m not giving up until you breathe. My voice became louder as the agony of knowing the truth hit home.

My father sat against the vanity unit now, his knees drawn up to his chest, tears rolled down his cheeks behind his fogged up glasses. I didn’t have time to cry, but I wanted to scream from the rooftop, believe me.

She’s gone, Emma. We don’t know how long she’s been in there.

Dad, I’m not stopping. Sirens of the ambulance were nearby. Pru, can you go unlock the front door please?

She turned and ran down the stairs, a thump on every other step as she went down. Voices from the female and male paramedics could be heard now as they ran up the stairs. Where is she?

In the master bathroom. She ran up the stairs in front of them. They’re in here, Pru said, as she stood out of the way to let them in.

Two paramedics burst through the doorway with a case and an Automated External Defibrillator.

OK, we’ll take it from here. Can I get your names please?

I stood up and moved out of the way. I’m Emma and this is my father, Luke. And that’s Pru. My mother was in the bath.

Ok Luke, we need to get in here please and move her onto a dry surface. There’s too much water here. Quick. And can someone get some towels to dry her please?

Pru opened the linen press door just outside in the hallway and grabbed three towels. She laid one out on the floor of the bedroom and put another two down on the carpet. The two paramedics lifted mum and moved her out onto the towel as fast as they could. The male paramedic took over the compressions again.

We have to remove her nightie. It’s wringing wet. How long have you been doing compressions? the female paramedic asked, as she grabbed scissors from her bag and cut the nightie all the way up the side and down the arms.

At least ten minutes. My heart pumped fast as exhaustion took my body to another place. I hadn’t noticed it while the adrenaline was still pumping out into my system but now it had stopped and reality had taken over.

Thanks, you’ve done an excellent job. You gave it your best.

They rolled her and pulled the wet long sleeved nightie out exposing her private parts. Her modest ways would have hated that. I picked up one of the towels and laid it over the lower part of her body. The female paramedic dried mum’s chest with another, while the other switched on the machine. The machine’s voice sounded with instructions. The female paramedic attached two pads on either side of her chest and pressed firmly.

The machine evaluated any heart rhythm.

Right, stop compressions now, everyone stand back please. Stand clear, the female said. The machine advised the shock had been delivered. The male began compressions again for two minutes. The female opened a plastic mouth protector and placed it over my mother’s mouth and blew 5 breaths into her mouth. She removed the mask and checked for breathing then lifted up mum’s eyelids and shone a light into them. She looked up at her co-worker and shook her head.

No, Mum, No! My voice shook with disbelief. I fell backwards towards the doorway. Dad grabbed my arms to stop me falling down. I was sure the paramedic would get my mother breathing again. My tears burst like water from a dam, spilling down my face as my legs turned to jelly and I dropped to the floor. My father came down with me and gently pulled my body back up as he wrapped his arms around me. His gentle strokes massaged the back of my head.

No, please. It can’t be true. Can’t you do something? My eyes questioned the two paramedics in desperation. They had to do something. The female paramedic walked over and brushed her hand along my arm in an attempt to soothe me.

I’m sorry. She’s been in the water for too long. It appears from her vitals, it was well over 30 minutes, maybe even longer. I’m so sorry. There’s nothing we can do to help her now.

I held out my arms to Pru still standing by herself, both hands still at her mouth in her own state of shock. I took her arm and pulled her into our huddle. Tears rolled down her face, my heart breaking for her to have witnessed this. This was a sight that couldn’t be unseen. I pulled away and knelt next to my mother’s lifeless body. I lifted her head and brought it close to mine as I pulled the towel up to cover her exposed breasts. The warmth had left her body.

Mum, why did you want to go away. I love you. Why did you do this? I held her tight, my tears falling in her long blonde hair. I glanced back into the bathroom. What had happened in there? Why had my father not called out for help when he heard me coming home? Did he already know she was dead and just wanted to hold her? My eyes were drawn to her bruised arms.

‘Why has she got bruises on her arms, Dad?"

I don’t know, I only noticed them myself a few minutes ago, he said, wrapping his arms around his own body.

I turned her face to mine again and kissed her forehead. Her vibrant smile had disappeared, at least vibrant up until the last few weeks anyway. But something had happened to change her. She was worried about something. What had gone on to make her the way she was in the last week or so? I thought I had the answer but hadn’t told anyone about it.

The female paramedic’s hand dived into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. She dialled a number and placed it against her ear as she walked out of the room and down the stairs talking as she headed toward the front door from where she entered. Her voice carried up the stairs to us.

Police, please.

Dad walked over and grabbed my hand again.

Emma, let’s go down now. There’s nothing we can do here. We have to let them do their job now.

I looked down at her once more. This might be the last time I’d see her again.

Mum told me last week she feared death when there was some show on and yet here she is. Why would she say that if she was planning this?

I don’t know honey. Something was bothering her, but when I asked she wouldn’t tell me, he said as he let go of my hand.

He moved in the hallway and rang his father, Former Detective Inspector of Homicide James Foley who retired only two weeks earlier.

Dad, can you come over? Holly’s dead, he said as he walked away to speak privately.

Pru walked over and stretched her arms out to wrap me in them. Her gentleness was something I loved about her. Our friendship stemmed from pre-school days, her in pretty floral dresses and her freckled face with carrot coloured hair, which I thought was permed to an inch of its life forever, but wasn’t, it was natural.

And me, in my blue jeans and tee shirt and my tomboy ways, never in a dress, even to this day. But we jelled. A friendship that transcended all bounds. We’d been through everything together. Fights in the school ground when kids would tease and pull her curly hair but I was always there to sort them out. We shared camping trips with my father and grandfather, study nights, lots of them over the years and school graduations. We were both ambitious, but in different ways. Everything we did, we did together. And today we shared this as well.

"Why don’t you come down?’ she said, her soft voice trailing off as her gaze fell down to my mother.

I will, you go. I’ll be there in a minute. I want to say goodbye. Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears again. She turned and walked down the stairs to where my father was standing. I knelt back down to my mother and held her for what seemed like a long time. I could hear my grandfather’s voice asking about me as he came through the front door. He lived two streets from us.

My mother had loved me unconditionally and I, her. I couldn’t remember her raising her voice at me. How could I let her go? I didn’t want to. The thoughts I’d had earlier, had now returned. The fighting, the mood swings this week. But she hated taking pills. In fact, she didn’t most of the time, I think she only told my father she took them, but I had seen the full bottles in her drawers when I was hunting around for hair ties.

My eyes were like a magnet to the bathroom. There was something not right here. I know what my mother was like. If she didn’t plan on doing this and it was an accident. If she had taken the tablets to relax herself, then this wasn’t her routine. When she ran a bath, she went the whole hog. Candles, music and bubbles, lots of bubbles. Wine, if it was night-time. Not plain water and not dressed in what she had slept in. and why the hot shower at the same time. I know three days earlier, she was worried about something. I don’t care how bad she was that day, I know she wouldn’t do this. No, something was seriously wrong. I had to speak to my father alone. I was going to find out what happened here today.

Chapter 3

The house was now full of police officers and detectives, with the four of us standing outside on the lawn, instructed to wait next to my car. A police officer guarded the doorway preventing anyone walking in. My grandfather stood beside me now, his arm across the back of my shoulders.

How are you holding up?

I leant into his shoulder to speak. I don’t know why she’d do this, Pa. I don’t believe she’d take those pills and do this. There’s something not right. I know it.

He nodded as two detectives stepped down from the verandah and headed toward us, their badges held out. One was a blonde female detective unknown to us and the other, a familiar face in Snr. Det. Craig Taylor. He’d been my grandfather’s ex-partner for 20 years or more before my Pa had become Detective Inspector years earlier. She acknowledged my grandfather. Sir. He nodded back. I sensed some tension as she turned to face my father.

Mr. Foley, I’m Detective Sergeant Kristina Hamilton and this is Senior Detective Craig Taylor.

Call me Luke please and we know Craig already.

Craig moved over to Dad and shook his hand with an understanding nod. He turned to me as his face grimaced, nodding, not knowing what to say most likely. We had known him for years. He turned to Pa. Terrible thing, James. It’s been an awful time for you all lately, he said, as he reached across to take Pa’s hand into his. I can’t believe it’s only been a week since Meredith’s funeral. You all must be devastated.

Pa nodded and managed a slight smile then turned to Kristina. My wife, Meredith passed away from leukaemia. Her funeral was last Tuesday. It’s been an upsetting week for all of us and now this.

She acknowledged his statement, but turned back to my father.

Luke, can you tell me what happened when you found your wife— She looked at her notepad. Holly?

When I came home, the shower was running. I didn’t go upstairs straight away, but then it seemed to be running for too long. That’s when I went to check if she was OK and when I opened the door, I could hardly see through the steam. At first I thought she was in the shower but then I saw her in the bath. She was right under the water. I ran to pull her out, but it was too late, she was already gone. She’d taken some pills by the look of it. The pill bottle was on the bench. Then Emma came in.

Dad, why was the shower going as well? It doesn’t make sense. My tears still flowed but I held back the sound.

I don’t know Em. She must have been confused. His eyes welled up again.

Pru and I came home and I went upstairs to see her. I took over telling the detective what happened. I was happy she was up and about, the meds must’ve worked. Then I saw her in the bath with—. I stopped myself saying what I saw but continued to speak for my father. Dad and I lifted my mother over the edge, it was so awkward. It’s a soaker tub.

The realisation my mother was no longer here kicked in again. My chest jerked as I inhaled three quick breaths in succession. I turned into my father’s arms, my tears dampening his dried out shirt as my face pressed hard against him. As I looked down his arm, droplets of dried blood had formed on his left arm. I pulled away.

Dad, what happened? There’s a big scratch on your arm.

His right hand went to his arm. He rubbed the scratch lightly.

Oh, it happened at the last house I saw. I walked past a bush in the yard and felt something sharp like a thorn. I didn’t realise it scratched me so deep.

Where had you been this morning, Luke? Kristina asked.

I’d been looking at some open houses, we were thinking of moving.

Was everything OK with your marriage?

My eyes trailed up to his, contemplating his answer. I’d never thought about this before today.

Yes, we were looking for a smaller house.

Luke, did she leave a letter at all?

Ah, yes. She did, he said, as he pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her.

Where was that Dad? What did she say? Did it explain why she did it? The questions spurted from my mouth.

It was on the bench in the kitchen when we first came down. I saw it sitting there and read it before everyone came. And no, it didn’t say why, only how much she loved you and me and she was sorry.

Really, I didn’t see it when we had a drink of water. Can I read it please?

The detective held the letter out for me to read in her gloved hand.

Please don’t touch it, Emma. We’ll need to fingerprint it.

Fingerprint it. But this is suicide, not murder.

We have to check all options.

My eyes hovered over the words, as beautiful as they were, how cruel it was to leave us like this.

Luke, you spoke about the pill bottle. Was Holly taking medication?

Yes, she had mild depression for years, but most of the time, she was fine. It was every now and then she’d become anxious about something. When I’d ask her what was wrong, she’d say it must be the medication.

Had she seen a psychologist?

No, only a doctor. We couldn’t get her to see one at all.

How long had she been like that?

Years! Since before Emma was born. The doctors back then said it was prenatal depression and then postnatal after she was born, he said, looking down at his wedding ring twisting it round and round. Look, you probably need to know this, but last Thursday, she went missing. She got up early and went out to the park. That’s where Emma and I found her after searching for over an hour.

What was so unusual about that?

For one thing, it was raining quite heavily and second, she was only wearing a nightie. That nightie, he said, pointing to the house. The one she was wearing when we— His voice quavered as his eyes closed facing skyward.

My heart sank as my grandfather stepped forward to put his arm around his shoulders.

It’s OK, Son. Take your time. When you’re ready, just tell them what you know.

Dad removed his black rimmed glasses and placed them on his head. He reached into his pocket for his hanky, wiped his eyes and blew his nose. Sorry. He pulled his glasses back down onto his nose.

No problems, when you’re ready. Detective Sergeant Kristina Hamilton said.

I should have done more because I knew she wasn’t in the right frame of mind over the last few weeks. I thought it was something to do with my mother passing away. Holly was really close with her and the day after Mum’s funeral, Holly told me she wished she could go with her.

What? You didn’t tell me that! Resentment grabbed me by the throat.

How could I tell you she wanted to end her life? I thought it was just talk. I didn’t think she was serious.

How could you not tell me? I can’t believe it, Dad. She needed more help.

His head hung in shame as I shook mine. My temper simmered ready to boil over.

Why would she say something like that? Kristina’s head tilted sideways.

My father struggled to gather his composure after my outburst. ‘Jesus,’ I thought. ‘He’s going through his own tsunami.’ I didn’t mean to be so hard on him.

I’d cut off my arm to have her back, is that what you want me to do, cut off my arm, he said, as he kicked the fence pickets, snapping them in two. I jumped back in shock.

No, of course not. I’m sorry Dad. I didn’t mean to say all that. I’m just upset.

We all are. Emma. You’re not the only one hurting here. His raised voice was something I wasn’t used to. I glanced at Pru who’d raised her eyebrows at me.

I’m sorry.

An inaudible sound came from outside our front yard. The recent arrivals in the newly built brick home across the road were standing whispering and gawking at us from their front porch. ‘Go inside’ I almost yelled but held back.

Go on, Luke. Kristina said.

I know I should have told someone, he said, glancing at Pa. I should have realised then it was more serious. We called the doctor to come to the house when we got her home and he put her on the medication to help stabilise her moods. I should have insisted that more be done for her, but I thought she was just grieving for my Mum.

She was grieving for her. I interrupted.

"Yes, you’re right. Holly and my mother were tight and the day after Mum’s funeral is when she