Last Known Contact
Page 1
Last Known Contact
Phillipa Nefri Clark
Contents
Also by Phillipa Nefri Clark
Find her father, catch a killer, stay alive
1. Where It Ends
2. Homecoming
3. Fallout
4. Sea Angel
5. Upstairs. Downstairs
6. Message From The Missing
7. A Clue
8. What We Hide
9. Dark Plans
10. Hidden Meanings
11. Campbell’s Choices
12. Change Of Guard
13. Dad’s Days
14. Media And More
15. The Plot Twists
16. Lies And Other Stories
17. Late And Missing
18. Evidence
19. Unravelling Threads
20. Revelations
21. Dinner
22. Dinner For Two. Another Couple
23. Brewing Storms
24. A Sister’s Love
25. Twists
26. Storm Warning
27. Discoveries
28. House Of Cards
29. What Gets Us Through
30. Whose Body?
31. A Shot To Regret
32. As The World Falls Down
33. Not What You Think
34. Truth Or Lies?
35. Foundations Can Fall
36. Telling The Truth
37. Only Some Things Matter
38. Watchers
39. When Trust Is Gone
40. What Love Is Worth
41. One Down
42. Who Watches The Watcher?
43. Unrest And Distress
44. Not Alone
45. Perfect Plans
46. Saving Himself
47. Small Good Things
48. The Weight Of Happiness
49. Deceptions And Lies
50. Caught
51. Changes Coming
52. Use By Date
53. Sourdough And Salad
54. Security Alert
55. Need For Freedom
56. Falling Down
57. Kaleidoscope
58. Heading To The Cabin
59. Closer
60. About Jack
61. Danger In The Trees
62. The Hunter, 1
63. The Hunted, 1
64. The Hunter, 2
65. The Hunted, 2
66. The Hunter, 3
67. To Trust
68. A Way Back
69. Resolutions
70. One Year On
About the Author
Also by Phillipa Nefri Clark
Acknowledgments
Also by Phillipa Nefri Clark
Christie Ryan Romantic Mysteries series
The Stationmaster’s Cottage
Jasmine Sea
The Secrets of Palmerston House
The Christmas Key
Taming the Wind
Martha
Charlotte Dean Mysteries
The Christmas Tree Thief
Deadly Falls
Deadly Secrets
Deadly Past
Doctor Grok’s Peculiar Shop Paranormal Shorts
Colony
Table for Two
Wishing Well
Simple Words for Troubled Times
Last Known Contact
Copyright © 2020 Phillipa Nefri Clark
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher and the author.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names.
Cover by Steam Power Studios
Editing by Nas Dean
Set in Australia and written in Australian English
Find her father, catch a killer, stay alive
Sometimes the only person you can trust is yourself…
Her father is missing. Her estranged husband Dennis is his last known contact. The detective on the case is a man she once loved and turned her back on due to a tragedy that tore them apart.
Ellie Connor thought her father Jack trusted her with his business empire, but now she doesn’t know what to believe. With Jack gone, Ellie seems to be the only one genuinely concerned for his safety.
Jack’s head of security, Paul, is convinced Dennis is hiding something about her father’s disappearance. But could Paul have his own motives for deception? When shocking secrets are uncovered about the company, Ellie’s belief in her father is shattered. Is it possible he is in the business of building lies?
Someone is determined to stop Ellie from learning the truth. And if Ellie trusts the wrong person, the results could be fatal . . .
Set in Australia using Australian/British English and terms.
1
Where It Ends
December
Ellie Connor burst out of rugged bushland onto a broad expanse of open ground. The gloom from the tail of the storm might protect her for a moment. That and the rain.
She skidded to a stop at the very edge of a cliff, catching a glimpse of wild waves a long way below. Doubled over, hands on her knees, she gulped salty air. Her legs shook from running but the adrenaline coursing through her had kept her moving. Adrenaline and self-preservation. She didn’t want to die. Be killed by him. Most of her blonde hair had escaped its ponytail and she pulled a strand from her dry mouth.
So thirsty.
She reached for her backpack but there wasn’t time. It wasn’t safe to stop. Below and to her right was the river mouth, just visible in the near-dark.
Safety.
“Oh, El-lie.”
Her head shot up.
“I’m here to help you.”
His voice drifted from the trees.
She ran along the side of the cliff, searching for the way down.
A narrow track opened up. Not the one she remembered walking with Gabi last visit, but it would do. She had to put distance between them.
The ground was mud and loose stones and Ellie’s feet slipped from under her. She cried out as she landed on her elbows and behind.
Tears sprung into her eyes and she rolled against the cliff wall to catch her breath.
Out to sea, a helicopter sped past, its blinking lights mesmerizing Ellie. If only her phone wasn’t smashed into a million pieces somewhere back in the bush, she would turn on its flashlight. Get their attention with her vague memory of Morse code.
But it passed by and the rain stopped. The wind dropped to almost nothing and the heavy smell of eucalypts and sea spray enveloped her.
Where was he?
Ellie pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she straightened. Blood trickled down her arms and she wiped it away, then cleaned her palms on her shorts. Her legs were filthy, and blood splattered. This time she was careful of her footing. One step at a time, a hand on the sheer rock face to her side.
At a sharp curve there was a shallow cave. Impossible to see how far back it went, or what might lurk within.
“Are you down there, Ellie?”
Ellie almost jumped into the cave entrance. His voice was closer. Surely, he would hear the hammering of her heart?
“You don’t need to run anymore. I’ve come to help. I can get you to Gabi. You came to see her, didn’t you?”
Don�
�t you dare say my mother’s name!
Ellie closed her eyes, arms wrapped around her body as bile rose in her throat. She’d fallen into his well-planned trap. Alone, so far from any town. Nobody to turn to, no help.
She opened her eyes and started as a beam of light barely missed her feet.
“Getting a bit over the games, you know. All I ever wanted was to make you happy.”
He was going to kill her, then find Gabi and do the same.
Her fingers and toes were freezing even though the humidity was rising again after the storm.
“Oh, there’s a blood trail. I’ll bring you a bandage, Ellie.”
Pebbles rolled down the path ahead of heavy footsteps. The flashlight waved from side to side.
“Ellie!” A different voice, echoing from the top of the cliff.
“I’m here. But he’s close by!” Almost sobbing in relief, she stepped onto the path.
Her hunter caught her in his spotlight. “Gotcha, baby.”
Ice clutched her stomach. Her feet wouldn’t move. There was a gun pointed at her.
Again, from the top of the path, “Run! Ellie, run for your life!”
The flashlight turned onto her face. “I wouldn’t do that, not if you ever want to see him alive again. Make a choice, Ellie.”
I need to get to Gabi.
Ellie ducked out of the light and slid her way around the sharp corner.
A shot rang out.
2
Homecoming
A few days earlier
IS JACK BANNERMAN DEAD?
The image beneath the newspaper headline was as familiar to Ellie as her own reflection. The same photo of her father was on her desk at Bannerman Wealth Group.
In the middle of Tullamarine Airport International Arrivals, she stopped dead.
“How are you coping, Ellie?” The reporter holding the newspaper shoved it closer to Ellie’s face. “Do you have a comment?”
Dad?
“Is that why you cut short your trip to London?”
“What? No. I didn’t.” Ellie grabbed the paper. As she’d exited customs all she had on her mind was a shower and a glass of Yarra Valley wine. Not…this.
Microphone in hand, another reporter pushed in front. “Teresa Scarcella from At Six Tonight. Ellie, what are your thoughts at this difficult time?”
“No comment. Ellie, say nothing.” A tall man in a sharp suit, with a buzz cut and muscles forced his way between the media and Ellie. “I’ve called for airport security so get out of our faces.”
“Mr Dekeles, as head of security for Bannerman Wealth Group, what do you know—”
Paul Dekeles rammed the trolley forward with one hand and media scattered. His other arm went around Ellie’s shoulders. The media formed a walking circle around them.
“Mr Dekeles! Please, a comment!”
“Can’t print the comment I’d make,” he muttered.
“Paul, is Dad…”
“Stop panicking. We’ll talk in the car.”
Ellie blinked back tears as they passed through the airport’s sliding glass doors to a warm Melbourne evening.
A limousine waited in the ‘no standing’ zone. The driver hurried to collect the trolley from Paul.
“Ellie! Just one more question!”
Paul stepped between the mob and Ellie and she threw herself into the back seat, pulling the door closed behind herself. The minute Paul moved, Teresa and her team were there, the camera hard up against the window.
The door on the other side opened. “Bloody vultures.” Paul slid next to her and they drew away from the curb.
Ellie scanned the newspaper. Words jumped out.
Where is Jack?
Iconic Melbourne entrepreneur feared murdered.
Yachting mishap.
Missing.
Did Dennis Connor kill him?
Lost at sea?
Worth billions.
Who will take his place as CEO?
“Don’t believe the worst.” Paul opened a bottle of water and held it out. “Sensationalism.”
“But it says he’s missing. When did he go missing? Why didn’t anyone let me know?”
“You were already on the flight when we realised.”
“Realised? How long?”
“Two days ago. Well, that’s the last time he was seen.”
“Seen where, Paul? Did Sea Angel sink?” Ellie sipped water, forcing down a bitter taste. Her hands shook when she replaced the lid.
“The yacht is fine. And he’s simply disappeared into thin air. Or something.”
“I’ll call him.” She turned her phone on.
“Pointless. We’ve all left messages.”
“How could this happen?”
“No idea.”
Ellie stared at him. “You’re head of security.”
“I’m not Jack’s bloody keeper.” Paul took the newspaper from Ellie and threw it onto the floor.
The traffic on the Tullamarine Freeway parted to give the limo room and Ellie checked her watch. Just after nine. Why hadn’t Dennis called her yet? Would her own husband not be the one to break such terrible news?
“We’re going to the house.” Paul said.
“Does Meredith know what happened?”
“She doesn’t know the time of day. Look, things will be upsetting. But it is best this way.”
“What on earth do you mean, Paul. Tell me what you know. Please?” Ellie exhaled heavily and leaned back against the leather seat as exhaustion gripped her.
“Not much to tell. Jack and Dennis planned to go sailing.”
“And?”
“Jack didn’t show.”
“Then, where is he?”
Paul shrugged. “How was London?”
The limousine wound along streets in upmarket Canterbury, finally nosing through automatic gates between high stone walls.
Ellie climbed out and stretched to relieve the soreness in her legs from the long flight. Dennis’ Alfa Romeo was parked near the four-car garage. She checked her phone for the tenth time but still no message from Dad. Nor from Dennis.
Paul led the way up half a dozen steps and through the open front door into a spacious foyer. “In the sitting room.”
Off the main living area, the sitting room was dimly lit by a few lamps casting shadows onto cluttered, cheap knick-knacks lining the mantelpiece and sideboards.
Meredith Bannerman slumped on one of two leather sofas, a half empty glass of brandy dangling from her fingers. The ornaments were hers, which Ellie knew Jack couldn’t stand. He liked things of quality. There were moments Ellie wasn’t proud of when she’d wondered why Jack married Meredith, given his standards.
His back to the room, Dennis Connor stared out through the French doors. He didn’t bother turning to acknowledge the arrival of his wife, although their eyes met in the glass reflection. Ellie crossed to Meredith and kissed her offered cheek. She wrinkled her nose at the stench of alcohol emanating from her stepmother’s skin.
“Where’s Dad?”
“About time you got here.” Meredith sucked in more brandy.
Ellie addressed Dennis. “Where is he?”
“God knows.” Dennis turned around. “Or not.”
“Dennis, please—”
“Ignore Dennis. He’s licking his wounds. From being interrogated.” Meredith said.
“Who interrogated you? Why?”
Meredith began pouring another glass of brandy from a decanter on the side table, her hands shaky. “Nobody cares about the ones left behind.”
“For goodness sake, would someone please tell me what happened?”
“Perhaps I can shed some light.” Campbell Boyd, sixties, grey-haired, suited, stepped out of a dark corner.
Relief poured into Ellie and she threw her arms around her father’s oldest friend. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t be stupid, Ellie.” Dennis wandered to the sofa and took the decanter from Meredith before she spilled the contents.
<
br /> Campbell frowned at Dennis.
“Come and sit. Clearly you don’t know everything.”
“I just got off a plane, Campbell. And it was a reporter who told me Dad is missing.” Ellie sank onto the other sofa. “A reporter, Dennis. Not my husband.”
“Not your husband.” Meredith mimicked. “Oh, sweetie, such true words!”
I’ve come home to a mad house.
“Campbell?”
“The police are interested in Jack’s disappearance. After they spoke to Dennis—”
“Why?”
“Effectively, he was Jack’s last known contact.”
“I wasn’t the last to see him.” Dennis collected a brandy balloon from a sideboard.
“Were you arrested?”
“Of course, he wasn’t. One needs a backbone to commit murder.” Meredith declared, as if it was something to aspire to.