Chloe could scarcely believe the rush of emotion his story had roused. If she wasn’t careful, her defences would crumble and she’d find herself once again vulnerable around this man.
It was only sex.
She wasn’t falling for him.
It was time to remind herself of her own goals. She’d continued her research into IVF options on the internet and had discovered fertility specialists in Cairns. Only an hour away. From that point, it was a simple step to dreaming of her own baby. Right here in Burralea. A little playmate for Jess’s Willow, perhaps.
‘You’ll love the Lake House.’ Finn’s voice broke into her thoughts as they approached the forested area that rimmed the lake. ‘Emily’s parents built the place in about 1950. They hired some famous architect and it still feels modern today.’
‘Wow. It must have caused quite a stir around here at the time.’
‘Yes. From what I’ve heard, Emily’s parents were innovators.’
Chloe nodded. ‘Izzie, her mother, was certainly quite amazing – being a pilot during the war and then later running the paper. I wanted to write a story about her and she didn’t seem to mind when I spoke to her, but I sensed that Emily had strong reservations. It’s a pity. It seems such a waste of good local content.’
‘I’m not really surprised,’ Finn said as he turned onto a dirt track that wound through the trees. ‘I’m sure Emily’s trying to keep out of the spotlight. Do you know about her son?’
‘No.’ Chloe could remember that Moira had hinted at something, but, surprisingly, she’d never been forthcoming.
‘He was a pilot with the RAAF and he was killed in Syria a little over a year ago.’
‘Oh, no. How awful.’ Chloe wasn’t sure she could bear more bad news. Compared with Finn’s and Emily’s heartbreak, her despair over Jason seemed so very minor.
‘Emily was shattered, of course,’ Finn went on. ‘Robbie was their only child. I don’t think her husband’s handled it very well. He seems to spend a lot of time on their property out west.’
‘So he’s not around to support her?’
‘Doesn’t seem to be.’
Chloe couldn’t hold back her heavy sigh. ‘Bloody men!’ she growled, not quite under her breath.
Finn sent her a cautious glance, but she didn’t bother to explain, and she was feeling rather subdued as they pulled up in front of a stunning house. All timber and glass, it was surrounded by trees and had the shining waters of the lake as its backdrop. And then Emily, smiling and serene, came to the front door to greet them.
Dressed in an aqua silk kaftan over slim white slacks, she looked lovely, as always, and she welcomed them with a warm smile.
‘How lovely to see you both. Oh, Chloe, how thoughtful. Thank you,’ she said as Chloe offered the locally made chocolates she’d brought. ‘Now, come and meet my good friend Rolf.’
Emily ushered them inside. ‘This is Rolf Anders, the author,’ she said with a beaming smile as she gestured to her companion, a wide-shouldered fellow with greying red hair and beard, who looked to be about her own age.
‘How do you do, Rolf? I’ve read one of your books,’ Chloe blurted excitedly as they shook hands. ‘I’m trying to remember the title. It was something about snow. ‘
‘First Snow?’
‘Yes, that’s the one. It was set in Japan.’
‘I’ve read several of Rolf’s books, too,’ Finn said. ‘He knows I’m a fan.’ He smiled at Rolf. ‘Good to see you again,’ he said as he also shook hands.
‘This is amazing,’ gushed Chloe. ‘I had no idea you lived up here.’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Rolf grinned. ‘It’s so beautiful.’
‘Rolf has a house on the other side of the lake,’ Emily explained.
‘Did you come by boat?’
‘Yes, I did, actually. By canoe.’
‘Like Swallows and Amazons.’
‘Indeed.’
There were smiles all round and the evening got off to a very convivial start. Champagne was poured. A platter of delicious canapés was handed around and they settled down to chat, and to enjoy the view through huge glass windows where the sunset and then dusk spread a gently changing palette of colours over the lake.
Everyone present was interested in writing and authors, newspapers and books, so the conversation flowed very smoothly. Rolf told them about the quaint nineteenth-century Japanese fishing port of Otaru where the novel First Snow was set.
‘I seem to remember that the main action took place during some sort of festival,’ Chloe said.
‘That’s right.’ Rolf grinned. ‘The Snow Light Festival in February, when the canal is lined with glowing snow lanterns and it’s all incredibly beautiful and romantic. So naturally, it was the perfect setting for a murder.’
This brought a round of laughter, and when they moved to the exquisitely set dining table to enjoy Emily’s first course of homemade pâté and toast, Chloe realised she’d stopped fretting about the tragedies Finn and Emily had suffered.
Right now, in this moment, she felt happier and more relaxed than she had in a very long time. She supposed the excellent champagne helped. Her mellow mood certainly wasn’t caused by the hot editor sitting opposite her. It must have been the company in general, the excellent food and the ambience of the lovely house. Clearly, Emily was a first-class hostess, and tonight she seemed to be enjoying herself as much as anyone.
Emily really likes Rolf, Chloe decided. And I think he might be in love with her.
Or perhaps the champagne is going to my head.
When Emily excused herself to finalise the main course, Chloe asked if she could help.
Emily smiled. ‘There’s really no need. I’m just frying lamb cutlets.’ Then, perhaps she had second thoughts, ‘But you’re very welcome to come through to the kitchen. You can collect the salad, if you like.’
‘I’d love to,’ Chloe said, rising.
Rolf spoke up. ‘In that case, may I be a crashing bore and take a quick squiz at the TV news to catch the cricket score?’
‘Of course,’ Emily told him, smiling good-naturedly even as she sent an eye-roll in Chloe’s direction.
Emily had already coated the cutlets in herbed breadcrumbs, and there was a bowl of bean and parsley salad in the fridge.
‘If you could take the cling wrap off that salad and give it a bit of a toss, that would be helpful, Chloe. The servers are right there on the bench.’
From the nearby living room came the murmur of the men’s voices and the background patter of a female news anchor. Chloe tossed the salad, enjoying the scent of lemon and parsley as she did so.
‘Does it need a little more dressing?’ Emily asked as she added a little oil to a pan. ‘I have it here in this little —’
She broke off, interrupted by Finn’s voice. Yelling. Animated. ‘Look, that’s Ben Shaw! Bloody hell, it’s got to be him! Yes, I’m sure it is.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Across the kitchen, Chloe and Emily turned to each other with wide-eyed surprise, before simultaneously dropping what they were doing and rushing into the living room.
Finn was on his feet, his eyes huge with shock. ‘I just saw Ben Shaw,’ he said, waving towards the TV. ‘It was a story from Thailand. Something to do with the tourist beaches. And Ben was there, coming out of the water.’
‘Are you absolutely sure it was him?’ asked Emily.
Finn lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Look, it was only a flash, but I’d swear it was him. I think I recognised the beach as well – Kata Noi in Phuket.’
‘Maybe we can catch the same story on another channel,’ Rolf suggested helpfully.
‘There’s no need.’ Emily had already picked up the remote.
‘Is this a smart TV?’ Finn asked. ‘Can you rewind?’
‘I can indeed. Not that I’ve used the facility very often, but it’s one of Alex’s favourite toys.’ She found, after a little searching, the appropriate button. ‘
If I go back about seven minutes, that should be far enough, shouldn’t it?’
‘Yes, it should be plenty.’
They waited patiently as a reporter in Brisbane explained the latest fracas in the state government, and then there was a crossover to the colour story from Thailand. Almost immediately, scenes of crowded beaches appeared on the screen, with scantily clad tourists reclining on sun loungers beneath brightly coloured umbrellas. A pretty, suntanned journalist in a tangerine shirt reported earnestly on a smoking ban on the tourist beaches.
‘The measure aims to tackle the issue of thousands of discarded cigarette butts at popular resorts,’ she said.
Chloe didn’t hear anything more. She was completely distracted by a figure striding out of the sea behind the journalist. Tall, tanned, with his long, wet hair slicked back from his face, the young man was a dead ringer for the photographs Tammy had shown her of Ben.
At the last minute, the fellow seemed to notice the camera pointed in his direction and he turned abruptly, as if he was keen to get out of range.
‘That was definitely Ben,’ Finn declared. ‘I’m certain of it now.’
‘Yes, I think you’re right.’ Emily rewound again and managed to freeze the shot of the figure on the screen. ‘It’s so weird, though,’ she said. ‘How on earth did he walk into a rainforest in North Queensland and end up in Thailand? How could he have got through the airports and Customs without anyone knowing? Why would he have done that?’
‘To hide?’ Rolf suggested.
‘But why?’ persisted Emily. ‘He was so happy here. His business was doing so well.’
‘I think we can safely assume that he didn’t have a choice,’ said Finn. ‘Or at least, he believed he didn’t have a choice.’
‘And if that was the case, there’s almost certainly a criminal element involved,’ added Rolf.
‘And we should tell the police,’ said Emily.
Finn narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m not sure about that.’ His gaze was distanced, thoughtful. ‘I wouldn’t rush to tell the local coppers. After all, Ben obviously didn’t turn to them for help and he must have had a good reason. If he’s in trouble, I wouldn’t want to make things worse for him.’
‘What about Tammy?’ asked Chloe. Throughout this discussion, Tammy had been front and centre in her thoughts. She kept seeing her worried face, the hollowed cheekbones and the fear that lurked in her big blue eyes, even when she was smiling. ‘Should we ring her?’
She wondered what the chances were that Tammy had been watching the same news program. It was such a little story and the moment with Ben on the screen so fleeting, but surely others in Burralea had seen it.
‘Yes, we’ll need to let her know. She’s been so stressed,’ said Finn.
Straight away, he pulled out his phone, while the rest of them stood around feeling helpless. ‘Tammy,’ he said a moment later. ‘It’s Finn. We’ve just seen Ben on the TV. Yeah. Honest. It looks like he’s in Thailand, of all places, and he’s alive and well.’ Silence followed. Finn listened, then nodded. ‘Yes. Okay. All right.’
When he disconnected he pulled a strange face. ‘Well, that was a weird conversation. She didn’t sound nearly as excited as I expected.’
‘She’s probably just too stunned,’ suggested Chloe.
There were nods of agreement all round. Of course Tammy would be stunned. Soon she would be ringing other people, friends, asking if they’d seen Ben too.
‘I still have quite a few contacts in Thailand,’ Finn said next. ‘I reckon I’d have a good chance of tracking Ben down and maybe getting to the bottom of all this.’
Rolf gave a thoughtful nod. ‘I’m inclined to agree with that line of action. Whatever’s happened to Ben is bound to be quite serious.’
‘It sounds like something out of one of your novels, Rolf,’ said Emily.
‘I can grab a flight from Cairns.’ Finn was clearly warming to the idea. ‘I’d have to get a transfer in Singapore, but I reckon I could be in Bangkok in twenty-four hours, or close to it.’ He looked directly to Chloe.
She knew the light in his eyes was merely a reflection of his enthusiasm for this mission, but her cheeks grew hot nevertheless.
‘You could manage the Bugle, couldn’t you, Chloe? It should only be for a few days and there’s nothing much happening this weekend.’
‘Of course I can.’
‘Just so long as you remember —’
‘To get all the sporting results.’ Chloe grinned. ‘I know. I have your list of contacts.’
‘And with any luck I’ll be back before Tuesday’s deadline.’
She shook her head. ‘Don’t rush. I’m sure I could manage that, too.’
‘And I could probably help,’ volunteered Emily.
The two women exchanged smiles.
‘Yes, Emily can keep me in line,’ Chloe agreed.
‘Oh, hell,’ Finn cried, smashing a palm to his temple. ‘I’ve been totally forgetting about Bree’s visit.’
Oh, God. In the excitement of the moment, Chloe had forgotten her, too.
Emily frowned at him. ‘You mean your daughter is coming here?’
‘Yeah.’ Finn was the very picture of despair. ‘She’s due to arrive tomorrow morning for the start of the Christmas holidays.’
‘Oh, Finn.’ Emily looked almost as distraught as he did.
Silence fell as everyone stared at him, their sympathy transparent.
‘I could look after her,’ Chloe volunteered, before she had time for second thoughts.
Emily opened her mouth and looked as if she was on the verge of volunteering herself, but then she caught Rolf’s eye. Something passed between them, a silent exchange, and she seemed to change her mind.
‘How about I get those cutlets on?’ she said instead. ‘I’m assuming we still want to eat?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Finn made a flustered gesture. ‘I’m sorry for the interruption. I guess I got carried away, but I’d hate to spoil your delicious meal.’
As Emily departed, Finn sank into an armchair, elbows on his knees, his hands hanging loosely as he frowned at the polished timber floor.
‘I mean it, Finn,’ Chloe said. ‘I’m sure it’s important that you try to find Ben quickly, and I could look after Bree for a few days. We already have quite a few stories lined up for next week’s edition. And I’m a whiz at doing the rounds now.’
He looked up at her, his dark eyes brimming with emotion. ‘Thanks, Chloe. But maybe I should try to hold Bree off for a few days. It will mean changing her flights, but that shouldn’t be a problem.’
Chloe imagined the child with her bags packed, excitedly looking forward to her flight in the coming morning. Then, the crushing disappointment of her father’s phone call.
‘Let her come,’ she said. ‘You know what it’s like to be a kid on the first day of your summer holidays. We don’t have to cover any important events this weekend, so I’ll think of some fun things to do. I know I’m no substitute for her dad, but —’ Chloe was fast losing confidence in her ability to back up this impulsive offer.
Finn still looked worried. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely sure,’ she said without flinching. She could hardly retreat now.
‘Well … thanks. I’ll certainly owe you one.’
For a beat, their gazes held and Chloe was sure Finn was remembering, as she was, the amazing passion-fest they’d shared. Just in time, she realised that Rolf was watching them with unmistakably keen interest and she flicked her gaze elsewhere – anywhere – but she knew she was blushing. Damn it.
Emily’s meal was indeed delicious. The cutlets and salad were followed by icy concoctions of pineapple, passionfruit and coconut, enlivened with segments of finger lime and a splash of Malibu.
The dessert’s flavours were sensational, and everyone tried to change the flow of conversation to safe, stress-free topics. Chloe asked Rolf about his new book and he politely replied. But although she was extremely interested, her distrac
ted thoughts were churning and tumbling like balls in a Lotto machine, and she knew everyone else was having the same struggle.
It was pointless, however, to go on, talking round and round in circles about Ben. This was, Chloe decided in the end, yet another example of how an exceptionally pleasant evening could turn in the blink of an eye.
‘You were right about that pair,’ Rolf told Emily as her guests drove off. ‘There’s a definite vibe between them.’
‘I know. It’s so good to see Finn coming out of hibernation.’ Emily was smiling as she began to clear the table. ‘It was also very brave of Chloe to take on the Bugle and Bree.’
‘Yes, it’ll be quite a juggling act.’
‘I hope she’ll let me help.’
‘With the paper?’ Rolf asked as he gathered up glasses.
‘Actually, I was thinking more about helping with Bree. I miss —’ Emily drew a sharp breath. ‘I miss contact with young people.’ She didn’t meet Rolf’s gaze as she said this and she hurried away, carrying dessert dishes to the kitchen.
‘Thanks,’ she said as Rolf followed and set the wineglasses on the bench beside a pile of dirty plates.
‘You should let me help you with this lot.’ He gestured to the mess.
‘Oh, the dishwasher will take care of it.’
Once again, they had arrived at the tricky end of the evening. And again, Emily felt bad about sending him away. She felt especially bad about sending him out into the mist-filled dark to row across the lake.
‘It’s late and there’s a mist,’ she said. ‘Why don’t I drive you home?’
Rolf smiled and the silent message in his eyes was clear. He wanted her. Quite possibly, he loved her, but the choice was hers. He would not overstep the boundaries of friendship a second time, unless she issued an invitation.
Heaven knew, she was sorely tempted to enjoy the comfort and pleasure Rolf offered. She stood, hesitant, trying to sort out the conflicting cues from her head and her heart. Rolf was a good man, an exceptionally pleasant companion, clearly willing and ready to step into the shoes that, to all intents and purposes, had been abandoned by her husband.
The Summer of Secrets Page 20