‘Probably, but I’ve put up with it for nearly three weeks and swimming is the method of exercise least likely to aggravate my other injuries, so it had to go. Besides, I have a plaster splint I put on for the rest of the day.’
With that, she picked it up from a chair and fitted it to her arm. Trust Kirk to find a way for her to exercise when it should have been impossible, Nick thought.
‘Is there something you need to do or can we talk?’
‘What I need is for you to tell me my daughter’s still safe. You said you’d be back in a few days and it’s been a lot longer.’
Small talk was done, it seemed. Standing with her hands on her hips and the sun shining through her long auburn curls, she looked like an avenging angel - a hot avenging angel. Over the weeks he’d been tailing her, he’d had other unprofessional thoughts, and she’d been wearing a lot more than this. It wasn’t right, dammit. She was a mother, and a victim, and his job was to catch Randall red-handed, and get Chloe back to her. End of story.
‘I know, things are complicated around Randall, but I have something for you to see.’ He thrust a phone at her, but when she just stared at him, he realised he hadn’t explained things. ‘Here.’ He took the phone back, pressed a couple of buttons and handed it back.
‘Chloe!’
Talia sank cross-legged onto the grass, the phone held close like a treasure, her face in raptures as the little girl recited her ABC’s. She pressed the replay button once, twice, three times before she looked up at him, her eyes misty.
‘When was this taken?’
‘Yesterday. I couldn’t come back until I had something for you.’
‘It was worth waiting for,’ she said softly.
Nick felt ten feet tall. The way she was looking at him melted the heart that had been cold for years. If he was being truthful, it had begun, this feeling for her, a long time ago.
Watching Randall had meant watching his wife, before, during and after the separation. He’d seen her go from a woman full of vitality to one living with uncertainty and fear. He’d seen her blossom with the pregnancy and her new freedom, and then he’d watched the fear return after Chloe’s birth, when Randall had shown up again.
Talia was a good mother - he’d seen her in action. She’d tried to be a good wife by never exposing Randall, but he would bet his badge on her not being willingly involved with Randall’s dealings.
‘I’m glad. You should probably get out of those wet clothes.’
‘Yes, I should.’
He couldn’t resist putting out a hand to pull her up and as their hands touched, a tingle ran up his arm. By the startled look in her eyes, he guessed she felt it, too.
‘Can I have a copy of that video?’ she asked nervously.
‘I meant to say the phone’s for you. From now on I’ll send you any uploads as soon as I receive them. Don’t worry if it’s not that regular. The person taking them has to be careful not to get caught.’
‘I understand and thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.’
Talia lit up when she spoke of her daughter. ‘There is one thing I need to make clear. You can’t make any calls or send these clips. It would be too easy for them to be traced back to here, and we can’t let anyone know where you are.’
She bristled. ‘Kirk’s filled me in on what I can and can’t do, so you needn’t worry I’ll jeopardise your case.’
‘Sorry, I just needed to make sure. A phone just makes things a little less secure.’
‘You’ve made your point. Now I really must get changed.’
As she walked away, he wanted to kick himself. He hated to part on bad terms. Not when a few minutes ago everything had seemed so . . . what? He was deluding himself that anything could happen between them. Talia would never be interested in him until she had her child back, and maybe not even then. He was a detective - hardly boyfriend material - and his aim was to get Randall Hughes behind bars once and for all. It was going to take everything he had, and that would include the testimony from his ex-wife.
He’d better find Kirk and get him up to speed on everything because, after all, that was the only reason he was here.
***
Talia watched from her bedroom as Nick stood below. He looked uncertain, which didn’t fit with what she knew about him. Kirk had not been too forthcoming until recently, but what he had said made her think Nick was a man who was decisive and, as if to enforce this, he squared his shoulders and walked inside.
Knowing he was around made her feel, not exactly safer, because Kirk was a bear of a man, but calmer, more hopeful. Nick had said he would get her evidence of Chloe’s good health and he’d done that and more. Hearing her daughter’s voice was the best medicine she could have been given. She hugged the phone to her chest. She wanted to put the video on repeat, but she resisted the urge.
She had a lot of work to do. Just because Nick and the police force had a plan, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have one of her own. If Nick thought she was going to stay here and twiddle her thumbs while they laid the trap for Randall, he was seriously deluded.
She’d seen documents on her ex-husband when she’d been snooping around while Kirk was out. She hadn’t wanted to resort to deviousness, but clearly, neither Nick nor Kirk was comfortable about sharing information about the case on which her future rode. She had to gain Kirk’s trust. Chloe’s welfare would not rest solely with the police if she had her way.
Changing into her workout clothes and tying her hair up into a long braid, she went down to the basement gym. Kirk and Nick stood by the boxing equipment talking quietly but they stopped when they noticed her.
‘Come and let me pad that cast,’ Kirk commanded.
Talia obediently did as she was told, but she rolled her eyes at Nick, who had to cover a smirk. It seemed they both knew Kirk’s bark was a whole heap worse than his bite. In the beginning, she had been frightened by him, especially as it had been only the two of them in the house, but she’d quickly come to realise he would never harm her.
He was abrupt to the point of rudeness, impatient with her progress, and he kept her at arm’s length, but his actions spoke better of his personality. He’d nursed her back to health, cleaned for her, was an amazing cook, and if he spoke like a sergeant major, then so what? She’d been spoken to a damn sight worse.
‘Do you want to do some sparring with her?’ Kirk asked Nick.
‘No! I mean, I understand the swimming is good for fitness, but this is over the top.’
‘Don’t be soft. Talia’s tougher than you think.’
Talia felt a shot of pride at his remark. His praise was not too frequent so she relished it when it happened. ‘I’ll get you some gloves.’ She went to the far wall and opened a cupboard that housed all the equipment for any sport imaginable.
Nick had removed his shoes and allowed Talia to tie his gloves, all the while looking very uncertain. ‘What about your arm?’
‘I won’t use it so if you don’t hit it, we’ll be fine.’
Kirk snorted his amusement, and Talia almost smiled herself as she pulled on her gloves with his assistance. The man’s sarcasm was rubbing off on her.
Fortunately, Nick’s trousers were light, so he could move quite nimbly around the ring. Talia sent a few jabs his way, which he defended easily. Then she swept at his ankle and he looked startled. He allowed her to make contact several times but never retaliated and she grew frustrated.
‘What’s wrong? Try and hit me,’ she goaded him by kicking his shin before he could step away.
‘I don’t want to hit you.’ He blocked a couple of jabs to his ribs.
‘That’s not really helping me train.’ She caught him high on the thigh and he moved out of range.
‘Perhaps it would be better if Kirk did this. Besides, I need to get back to the job.’
He yanked the gloves off and threw them on the ground, motioning for Kirk to follow him outside. Talia followed them to the doorway, having no qualm
s about listening in, especially when their conversation was bound to be about her.
‘What the hell are you doing? She’s supposed to be getting back to health, not becoming a fight master.’
‘Everything I’m teaching her will give her the security she craves. If she knows she can defend herself and her daughter, then she’ll get through this. Imagine for one crazy moment you don’t get that bastard. If that happens, then she’ll need these skills and more.’
‘I don’t want her to be some lethal weapon. When this is over, she’ll want to go back to a normal life.’
‘You’re overreacting, Nick. Talia won’t want to use any of this but if she has to, she’ll have the ability. Everyone should have the right to self-defence.’
‘Fine! Just be careful what you teach her. She’s a civilian, after all.’
Nick stormed off and Talia moved away to do some stretches. Whatever Nick thought she was learning wasn’t a patch on what Kirk was actually teaching her, and she wasn’t about to tell him. If she had to put plan B plan into action, which was to go it alone, she would be up to the challenge.
Kirk wasn’t happy with keeping Nick out of the loop; he’d told her Nick was the only cop he’d ever trusted and, she too, felt guilty at their deception. It had taken weeks to win Kirk over. Training hard, and doing everything he suggested to be capable of such a mission had him rethink his stance, but when he realised that getting Chloe back was all Talia was living for he finally agreed.
They would give Nick and his team a bit of time and if no clear results came to light then Kirk would help her implement her own plan. She had no choice. When it came down to the wire, the only one she could totally trust was herself.
CHAPTER TWO
Taking a sip of her scalding coffee at the ferry kiosk, Talia sighed with pleasure. It was the small things she appreciated these days. The last two months with Kirk had been physically and emotionally draining but she was stronger now. He’d armed her with tricks only a criminal mind would think of and she was glad. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Chloe would not be left in the hands of her father for a day longer than necessary, if Talia had anything to do with it.
The ferry rolled a little and her thoughts were interrupted when something hit her between the shoulder blades. ‘Hey, watch out!’ Talia yelped with pain as hot liquid spilled over her hand. She quickly transferred a now half empty coffee cup back to the counter and turned, ready to fight.
‘I’m so sorry, are you all right? Here - let me see.’
A stocky man grabbed at her wrist and, as much as she was itching to whack the clumsy fool, she held back. This was not the place and this guy was not the enemy. Or was he? He looked vaguely familiar and as he examined her hand, checking both sides, and then pushing her sleeve up higher, she felt the familiar tendrils of fear creeping around her chest. Her hand looked so small in his.
‘Haven’t you done enough harm? Or are you trying to dislocate my shoulder as well?’ She winced as she pulled her injured hand from his. Her voice was harsh but inside, her heart hammered and although her face felt flushed, she shivered.
‘Not too much damage, but you should put that hand in some cold water,’ he advised casually as he looked her up and down.
‘Perhaps you should watch where you’re going.’ She felt a burst of anger that a stranger was hitting on her after burning her, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
‘Sorry. Can I buy you another cup?’
‘No thanks, half a cup is plenty.’ Talia could hear the sarcasm in her voice and again realised how much of an influence Kirk had had on her. She was no longer the mouse; she had teeth now and wasn’t afraid to use them, but perhaps now was not the time.
He looked her up and down again and frowned, as if he wanted to say something else. Talia felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, and pulled her cap a little lower over her scar. Kirk and Nick would have been annoyed at her for causing the attention. The man didn’t look familiar, but Randall had a lot of men on his payroll, and this guy could certainly be one of them. Fortunately he didn’t seem to recognise her and without another word he turned back to the counter.
After buying his coffee, he moved to the front outside deck, exactly where she’d been heading before the interruption. No way did she want to be near him, or any man, for that matter. She cleaned up the mess and checked her clothing for stains. No thanks to him, everything looked okay.
Talia wandered around the rest of the boat until she found a quiet area astern. Dropping her handbag to the deck, she slumped onto a wooden bench with a sigh. This had to work. A lot of thought had gone into planning this trip, and it might be her only chance to get her daughter back. Chloe had to be on the island and Talia would do all in her power to take her home, wherever that might be. Kirk had offered her a permanent place with him, before finally acquiescing to keep her plan a secret, but she longed for somewhere Chloe would be safe and free from all the ugliness Randall had brought into their lives. At this moment, she didn’t have a clue where that might be.
A wave of fear clutched at her stomach and she barely made the rail before the nausea hit. She thought the panic attacks were done with, but maybe not. Managing to hold her cap on with one shaking hand, and using the other to wipe her clammy brow, she prayed for a quick voyage. There was never a thought to turn back. She was desperate to begin the fight - to see her daughter face to face…to hold her.
The ferry mercifully docked at Waiheke Island on schedule, and a more composed Talia managed to wrestle her suitcase from the storage compartment and find a taxi in record time.
The township was bustling, making it a slow drive, through. In a few weeks, autumn would arrive and the place would become a quiet haven through the winter. Hopefully, there would be enough time before that happened to find a way to reach her daughter. She would need the crowds to mingle in until she could make her move. Although being around a lot of people did not do her nerves any good.
Talia felt her cheeks flush when she remembered her treatment of the man on the ferry. It was hard to trust anyone, let alone a complete stranger. The thought terrified her that she may have been recognised but she was determined to get her fear under control. There was nothing she could do about it right now.
The driver pulled up at the cottage and took her bags to the doorstep. She smiled her gratitude and waited until he’d driven off before stepping into what would be her home for the next few weeks. Helping herself to a large glass of water, she drank quickly to refresh her stale mouth, then refilled it. A trip to the shops would be necessary but that could wait until tomorrow morning. Right now, her exhausted body craved rest and she should take it while she had time.
She walked back through the lounge and down a tiny hall to her bedroom. Putting the glass on a bedside cabinet, Talia threw open the window. The cottage had been vacant for only a few days but was already beginning to smell musty. Taking deep breaths of the fresh air, she looked out at the overgrown gardens. The smell of the Pacific Ocean wafted up to her and she could almost taste the salt on the breeze. Maybe tomorrow, after a meeting she had organised, she would go for a swim.
Latching the window to allow air to circulate, she turned back into the room and looked longingly at the soft bed covered with cushions. It wasn’t yet dark, but she had nothing else to do and no one to answer to, for once. The lack of sleep while she’d been making plans had taken its toll. Throwing her coat onto a rocking chair, she dropped onto the bed, nestling in its depths. Within minutes, she’d fallen into a much needed sleep.
***
Later that day.
Nick walked casually around the boat and stopped to lean over the rail. He watched the bow of the Quick Cat skim over the choppy, grey-green water. The late afternoon held a threat of more rain, although the sun bravely attempted to push through the low cloud. He flicked down his sunglasses from his forehead. The black lenses hid his eyes, allowing him to scan the other passengers making the one-hour trip from the m
ainland.
Many were commuters getting an early start on their weekend; others were holiday-makers catching the last of the summer on the white sand beaches. A few were residents who had gone to the city for a variety of reasons. There were high school children who’d outgrown the school on an island that, at the height of the summer was packed with people, but for the rest of the year, held a population of approximately nine thousand. Somewhere amongst these people was the man Nick was keeping tabs on.
As prearranged, a car was already waiting for him, unlocked, with the keys hidden under the visor. He tossed an overnight bag in the back seat, started the engine and waited until a van had collected his quarry. Pulling out, he managed to stay a few cars behind, keeping the vehicle in sight.
By the time he had driven for twenty minutes, there were just the two vehicles on the winding road. He’d never been to Waiheke before but he’d studied the map of the island enough times to commit it to memory, so he was prepared when the van began to slow and turned into a concealed driveway. A set of majestic gates swung closed behind the van just as Nick passed by. Around the next bend was a lay-by where he pulled in and switched off the engine.
Waiting for a few minutes in case there was someone following him, he got out and walked back nearly to the entrance. Nick pushed himself into the hedge that grew along the eight-foot-high fence, avoiding the security cameras mounted on the gates. He’d known from his team it wasn’t going to be easy to penetrate this fortress, but seeing it firsthand made him appreciate anew the difficulties.
He walked for a few yards down the empty lot next door, searching for something to climb on. As luck would have it, a recently fallen tree provided just enough height to see inside the compound.
The silver van was parked in front of an imposing house with huge, tinted windows that resembled eyes staring blankly at the scene in front of them. The windows were bordered on either side by shutters, currently hinged back. The heavy wooden front doors were closed and looked impregnable. A fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard, the water tinkling down the ornamental sides and splashing into a shallow pool at its base. Colourful birds drank and bathed from the different levels, giving the place a deceptively peaceful atmosphere.
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