Free Darkening Skies by Bronwyn Parry Page B

In fact, it might lead one to suspect that someone is trying to tie up loose ends.’
    Shadows crossed Mark’s face as he considered his answer. ‘I knew there was a possibility that the public announcement might send those behind the corruption running scared, but I wanted to make sure that Gil’s name was cleared without doubt,’ he said. ‘I weighed it up, assessed the risks, made my decision, and made the announcement. Because if there were to be any repercussions, I expected them to be targeted at
me.
’ His tightly clasped hands betrayed his tension but his voice remained even. ‘I was wrong. Mrs Russell is grieving for her husband, and Jim … I’m so very,very sorry, Jenn, that he got caught up in this. You and Paul and Sean, Chloe and the kids – he’s such a huge loss to you all.’
    Some of his media critics had assumed that because of his self-control, his compassion was scripted, a mere performance. Others viewed his compassion and honesty as weaknesses. Jenn knew better – both about the boy he’d been, and the man she’d watched from a distance. She knew that he cared deeply about people and issues and put others’ needs first. And that his outward control masked not an absence of genuine emotion, but his own deep feelings that he kept to himself, alone, private.
    She knew that he grieved for Jim. ‘You reminded me last night that moving Jim didn’t kill him,’ she said. ‘Your announcement didn’t kill him, either.’
    ‘Not directly, no,’ he conceded quietly, but the weight of responsibility still clouded his eyes. ‘Although I can’t help but think if I’d just gone to the police would things be different? I need to ensure that there’s no more risk to anyone.’
    She focused on him, putting aside the immediacy of her own jumbled emotions of the past day, and tried to consider the events from an objective perspective. ‘Listen, Mark, I may have flung a thesaurus of swear words in your direction when I first received your messages, and questioned your sanity yesterday when you dropped your resignation bombshell so publicly, but thinking about it rationally, of course you did the right thing, the right way.’
    She’d covered political scandals, criminal investigations, old crimesand corruption aplenty and was more than familiar with the hundreds of ways the truth could be obscured. ‘We both know that if you’d done it quietly,’ she continued, ‘if you hadn’t resigned, chances are the reopened investigation would have been swept under the carpet, bogged in bureaucracy or become a juicy media scandal muddying the facts. And all the while whoever’s behind this would have heard about it anyway, and they’d still be cleaning up – but with a whole lot less police and public scrutiny.’
    After a long moment of reflection on her words, Mark pushed up from the fence, stood straight, close in front of her, raising a hand as if to brush her cheek the way he’d done, so long ago. He dropped it, but he didn’t drop their eye contact.
    ‘Thank you, Jenn.’
    Simple words, from a complex man. As she stood there, close to him, she remembered, understood now, why few people forgot an encounter with Mark. ‘Personable’, ‘charming’ – no, the words they often used didn’t come anywhere near the truth. When Mark Strelitz looked at a person, he saw them. Not just eye contact, but a total focus and awareness, instinctively seeking the person beyond the face and words. Right now he saw
her
, Jenn, not the public persona but the girl she’d been and the woman she’d become. An intensity of connection that worked both ways – if she opened her eyes enough to see it.
    He was a private person, but not secretive. It was all there, in his eyes, the depth and complexity, the compassion and integrity that defined him.
    And he’d driven the car in which Paula had died.
    The growl of a motorbike engine coming closer provided a welcome distraction from the uneasy jangle of her