The Twisted Knot Read Online Free PDF

he’d lived here longer than Sammi.
    â€˜Hey, do you know Peter Woodford?’ she asked, concentrating on the last mouthful of her dinner, as if she wasn’t intensely interested in his answer.
    â€˜Yeah. Yeah, I do,’ he said. ‘Why’s that?’ It still sounded like a casual conversation.
    â€˜Where do you know him from?’
    â€˜You know Barry from work?’ Sammi nodded. She knew all Gavin’s workmates. They were standard fixtures at footy games, barbecues and birthday parties.
    â€˜Pete’s his brother. Keeps to himself mostly. Played cricket with us a couple of times.’
    Oh shit. Sammi hadn’t anticipated that.
    â€˜He was at Belinda’s fortieth birthday party. You would have seen him.’
    She had hoped Gavin might have heard of Peter, might be able to give some insight into how he was regarded around the town. She didn’t expect Gavin to know him personally
    Gavin was looking at her expectantly and her eyes flicked left to right, avoiding his gaze. If someone did that during an interview, she’d guess they were lying or had something to hide. Yet here she was, doing it herself. God, she was so transparent.
    â€˜Why do you ask?’ It had gone past a casual conversation now.
    â€˜His name came up at work today.’
    Gavin was still staring at her. At the side of her head now.
    â€˜I know the rumours. It all happened before I moved to town,’ he said. ‘But I’ve never had a problem with him. He’s a nice enough bloke. Doesn’t talk much. He runs the family farm outside town.’
    Sammi nodded and made an ambivalent noise, still keeping her eyes averted.
    â€˜What’s happened?’ Gavin asked. His tone of voice had darkened ever so slightly, hardly enough for anyone to notice unless they knew him very well.
    â€˜Nothing really. The name just came up.’ She could feel Gavin still looking at her. She reached for her wineglass to avoid eye-contact.
    â€˜You’re not going to tell me?’ Gavin sounded incredulous. ‘You don’t trust me with it?’ She often told him about her jobs, even the big ones. He knew who were the drug dealers in town, the drink drivers, the guys who beat their wives. He cleared his throat.
    â€˜If I was a copper, we could talk about work. That would probably help. You’d have me as a legitimate sounding board. We could work together, give each other support.’
    Sammi hadn’t anticipated this sudden change in the conversation. She scraped her knife back and forth making crude patterns in her leftover gravy. The dog stirred under the table, pushing its head against the inside of Sammi’s foot.
    â€˜A lot of copper marriages break down because all they do is talk shop. Eventually there’s nothing left to say,’ Sammi said.
    â€˜You really don’t want me to become a copper, do you?’ he challenged. He pushed back from the table, stretching his legs out and folding his hands behind his head, as if they were still having a casual chat.
    â€˜I don’t understand why,’ he continued. ‘I thought you’d like the idea, that it might help some of your anxiety knowing I was right behind you. Literally. I could be right there in the car with you.’
    Sammi bit her tongue. Gavin had been an absolute lifesaver in her dark days since the abduction but she didn’t need some sort of body guard now. Sammi had always been independent, stupidly so on occasion, as if to prove a point. Gavin’s quiet strength had been something she could cling to. It had been a new aspect to their relationship. But there was a difference between needing someone to lean on in a relationship and having someone looking over your shoulder at work.
    â€˜It’s sweet and thoughtful of you to consider that. But I need to make it on my own at work,’ she said.
    â€˜Sure, sure. You’re getting better all the time and it won’t be long