“Shane?”
“My friend – the one who checked himself out of rehab.” That sounded better than ‘the one who was responsible for my last development burning’. “He recognised my car and was searching for a place to stay.”
“Why didn’t he call you?”
“He wasn’t sure I’d answer. I told him where the spare key was to my parents’ place. He left just as I got the message about the fire. I didn’t get a chance to check what he was doing in the empty unit.”
She shook her head. “The empty unit?”
“He was in there when I came downstairs. He said he was going to camp overnight until he could get in touch with me.” He’d known something was off. But he never would have believed his best friend would burn down a building knowing he was inside.
What had his friend become?
“Wait, this is the friend you think was involved in arson?” Her voice rose with incredulity.
He winced. “Yes.”
“And you left him behind while we went to fight the fire?”
“I reacted to the call out, just like you did. There was no reason for Shane to burn down the bakery. He has no financial interest in it at all.”
“How about revenge?”
“For what?”
“For not having insurance, for ruining his plans, for sending him to rehab.”
Every word was a dart right on target. Shane had blamed him, but to want revenge ... it had never occurred to him. And it should have. Looking back, it was clear Shane had broken into the unit, and may have been the one responsible the first time. He’d been so blind.
“Did you tell Lincoln?”
“Yeah.”
She stood up. “You should go.”
The abrupt change had him blinking. “Mai, I’m so sorry.”
She nodded. “I know, but I need to sleep. I can’t deal with this right now.” Her eyes were shadowed and there was such conflict in them. She walked out of the office and down the hallway.
He followed her, his heart aching. “I’ll make this up to you, Mai.”
She opened the front door, her smile sad. “I don’t think you can.”
Before Nicholas could say anything, she’d shut the door on him.
And ripped his heart right out.
A thud downstairs woke Nicholas and he was immediately alert, on edge. He got up and slid on some shorts. Had Shane come back? When Nicholas had arrived home he’d brought the spare key back inside. There was no way he would give Shane access to the house now. He threw on a T-shirt and crept into the hallway.
“Nicholas, are you home?”
Relief swept through him. It was his mother. Hurrying down the stairs he found both of his parents in the kitchen unloading bags of groceries.
“There you are.” His mother raised her eyebrows. “It’s midday. Don’t tell me we woke you?”
He kissed her cheek as his brain worked to catch up. “I was up all night putting out a fire. What are you doing here?”
“I told you earlier this week we were coming.”
Nicholas smothered a groan. “Sorry, I forgot all about it.”
“It’s not inconvenient is it?” she asked.
“It’s our house, we can do what we like,” his father growled.
Nicholas held up a hand. “Just give me a second.” He went over to the kitchen sink and splashed water on his face. He needed to be more awake for this conversation.
His mother placed a hand on his arm. “Is something the matter?”
“Yeah,” he said. His father would go ape-shit. “The fire last night was the building we bought. It’s completely destroyed.”
“What the fuck!” his father roared, as his mother sunk into a nearby chair. “How the hell has another one of your projects burned to the ground? Have the police questioned you yet?”
Nicholas wasn’t going to cower, he wasn’t going to be intimidated. He simply nodded. “I was there this morning.”
“And?”
“Gerald, go easy on him. It’s not his fault,” his mother said.
“We don’t know that,” Gerald snapped.
Nicholas couldn’t breathe. The air disappeared from his lungs as the accusation hit him.
“Gerald!”
“I didn’t burn down my girlfriend’s bakery,” he said when he was able to breathe again. “But I think I know who did.”
“Girlfriend?” his mother asked.
“Who?” his father demanded.
Nicholas answered his mother first. “I’m dating Mai who was one of our tenants.” At least he hoped he still was. She hadn’t dumped him straight out.
“Who cares? Who burned the building?”
His father wasn’t going to like this. “Shane.”
“What?” his parents asked in sync.
“He was there last night. I caught him coming out of the empty unit and he said he was looking for me. I told him to come here and then I got the call out for the other fire.”
“Other fire?” his father asked.
“Mai had leased a cafe to work out of while the development was being built. That burned last night too.” She really had lost everything.
“Why would he do that?” his mother asked.
“Because he blamed me for not having paid the insurance,” Nicholas said. “I can’t prove it, but I think he lit the Baldivis fire, or it was burned as punishment. He needed the money to pay for his drugs – he owed about fifty thousand.”
His mother put a hand over her mouth and his father sank into a chair, his face white. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” he asked.
“I thought he’d get better by going to rehab.” He’d believed the bullshit his friend had told him.
“Do you know where he is now?”
“No.” If he did find him, he’d take him straight to the police station, no hesitation this time. Shane had gone way too far. He’d destroyed Mai’s livelihood and could have killed them. He needed help.
“I can’t believe it,” his mother said. “Vicki is going to be devastated.”
“Not as devastated as Mai – she’s lost everything.”
His father banged his fist on the table. “You should have turned him in months ago.”
Wasn’t that typical? It was back to being his fault again. Well he wouldn’t take it this time, even if he did regret his actions. He was tired of being the martyr. “These are Shane’s actions; they are his fault, and he’s going to have to answer to them.” He couldn’t stay here. He wouldn’t shoulder the blame.
“I’m going for a walk.”
He strode out.
After Nicholas had left, Mai went upstairs to her old room and slept for a few hours. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to, not after Nicholas’s confession, but the second she’d hit her bed exhaustion had claimed her. Now though, it was time to think, to plan, to figure out what on earth she was going to do.
She found some paper in a desk drawer and sat on the bed to write a list. She needed to call the insurance company, put in a claim, access her fire-resistant safe, confirm it had survived the inferno, and she needed to get some clothes of her own.
She looked up the number of her insurer and dialled. After an intense conversation, she received assurances that they would be out on Tuesday to assess the damage. There wasn’t a lot she could do in the meantime.
Next she called Lincoln.
“Everything OK, Mayday?”
“Yeah. Have the investigators found my safe yet?”
“I don’t know. They’ve only just arrived.”
She knew the guys and they were thorough and methodical. She wouldn’t get anything out of them until tomorrow. “Thanks.” She hung up and her phone rang.
She’d been avoiding her friends, knowing she hadn’t been ready to handle their kindness, but now she was. “Hey, Fleur.”
“What do you feel like doing more: crying, screaming or getting stupidly drunk?”
Mai laughed, surprised that she could.
“What I really need is to buy some clothes,” she said.
“Are you at Nicholas’s?”
Her throat ached. “No, my parents’.”
“I’m sensing there’s a reason for that.”
“It’s a long story, but I’m ready to tell it if you’re interested.”
“Of course.”
“Can one of you pick me up?” Her car was still parked outside the cafe, and she didn’t have the energy to face the remains of the building just yet.
“We’ll be right there.”
Mai hung up and then made the bed and headed downstairs. Her sisters were in the lounge room and her mother was outside gardening.
Mai needed to say something to her, needed to apologise for the outburst. Her mother stood and brushed her hands against her shorts. “How are you?”
“A little less tired.”
“Good. What are you going to do now?”
“The musketeers are taking me shopping.”
Her mother smiled and walked with her back inside. “That’s a great idea. Take my card.” She took her purse off the kitchen bench and handed the card to Mai.
Of course. The loss hit her again. Her own purse had burned in the fire. She had nothing. “I’ll pay you back when the bank opens.”
Her mother hugged her. “Don’t worry about it now.”
Mai hesitated and then said, “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t realise how proud I am of you. Now, go, have fun.” Her mother squeezed her hand and then nodded towards the front door.
Mai went out the front to wait for her friends and Fleur pulled up in her white Hyundai, the rest of the musketeers in the passenger seats. Before she could get in, they were out of the car surrounding her in a hug, their voices blending together.
Mai squeezed back the tears. She wouldn’t break down now, not out here in public.
“Let’s get you to my house and I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Fleur said.
She nodded and got into the car.
“So what happened?” Kit asked.
There was so much she had to tell her friends she wasn’t sure where to start.
“Let’s get to Fleur’s before she starts.” Hannah squeezed her hand.
It was a short reprieve and she was silent on the drive over. They didn’t know anything about Creepy Guy, or Gordon, or Shane. At Fleur’s house she followed them through to the kitchen. This was when she usually put a box of pastries on the table for them to share. She swallowed hard. “Sorry I didn’t bring anything to eat today.”
“We did,” Hannah said and Kit waved at the packets of Tim Tams on the table.
“They won’t be as good as yours, but they’ll do,” Kit said.
Mai took a deep breath as her gratitude and the understanding of her friends threatened to overwhelm her. “Thanks.”
Fleur put mugs in front of her and the other girls. “Do you want to tell us about it?”
She nodded. They deserved to hear the whole story from her, but she’d start with last night. When she was finished, Hannah said, “Oscar will take good care of Calypso.”
“I know.” He’d saved Hannah’s dog’s life about a month ago.
“What did Lincoln say about it?” Kit asked.
“He called the arson squad in. Both fires were deliberately lit.”
“Why would anyone want to do that to you?” Fleur asked.
“That’s a long story.” And they weren’t going to like that she’d kept it from them.
She went through all that had happened since Kit’s New Year’s Eve party, keeping to the facts, reporting it as if it had happened to someone else, not her.
“Someone pointed a gun at you, threatened you, and you didn’t tell us?” Kit was outraged.
“There wasn’t anything you could do.” There was no way she would have messed her friends up in this. She didn’t want them in danger too.
“So what happens now?” Fleur asked.
That was the million dollar question. Mai hadn’t allowed herself to think that far ahead. “The insurance company is coming on Tuesday.” She sighed. “Even if I can get new equipment, I’ve got nowhere to bake or sell from.” Images of the charred remains of the building flashed through her head and all at once her defences crumbled. Her whole body shook and the tears she’d been holding back for so long breached the flood banks. She sobbed, letting her friends crowd around her, hug her and tell her everything would be all right.
She didn’t believe them, even though she wanted to.
She couldn’t see a way out of this mess, a way to rebuild. And until Shane or Creepy Guy were caught, there was no point.
After she’d cried herself out, Fleur pulled her up and led her into the lounge room to sit on the couch. “We’ll work something out, Mayday.”
Mai shook her head. “I can’t think of anything. The warehouse was the only other available space and it’s too big.”
“What about a mobile option?” Kit asked. “Lease one of those food vans and sell from there, offer delivery to customers.”
“She’d need somewhere to bake from,” Hannah said.
She would, but the idea had some merit. She wiped her tears, playing the idea around in her mind.
“You could bake here,” Fleur said.
Fleur’s kitchen wasn’t the biggest, but it might do. She would have to think about it. It was the first glimmer of hope she’d had all day, and it gave her the strength to sit up and wipe the tears from her cheeks. She would work it out.
Fleur put her hand over Mai’s. “We’ll think of something. You’re going to stay here with me while we sort it out, right?”
We. The plural reminded her she wasn’t alone. “If you’re happy with that.”
“Of course.” Fleur smiled. “Now, you’re going to need some new clothes and such. Are you up to going out, or do you want to borrow mine?”
She’d had enough of feeling sorry for herself. She needed to do something, to take action. She let out a deep breath. “Let’s go shopping.”
Perhaps some retail therapy would help.
Chapter 18
Just over twenty-four hours since Mai’s bakery had burned to the ground and she was going insane. She’d spent the morning making phone calls, trying to think of everything she needed to replace and everyone she needed to contact. The bank had promised to send out a new card, she’d cancelled all of her utilities and when she’d finally been given access to her fire-proof safe, she’d picked up her car and headed into Albany to buy herself a new laptop.
She didn’t have the energy to sift through the blackened remains of either of the buildings yet. It hurt too much.
Everything took her twice as long because she didn’t have anything she needed – no identification, no cash, nothing.
Her emotions were a see-saw, going from optimistic to doomsday, from perfectly fine to devastated in a matter of minutes. She hated it.
For that reason she hadn’t answered any of Nicholas’s calls. She didn’t know how she felt about what he’d done, didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing.
Calypso meowed and rubbed her leg.
She picked him up, cuddling him, his fur soft and comforting against her skin despite the lingering smell of smoke. He’d been discharged the night before and she’d bought him a new bed and bowl and he seemed settled at Fleur’s place. It had taken her no time to move in – she had nothing except for her fire-fighting gear, and she’d picked that up from her parents yesterday when she’d dropped by to tell them she was staying with Fleur.
She strode over to the window. Maybe she should go for a jog, clear out the cobwebs in her head.
No, she couldn’t. She hadn’t replaced her sneakers yet.
The now familiar feeling of loss threatened to drown her.
Her phone beeped in her pocket and she fished it out. One glance had her h
eart racing.
Bush fire in national park. All units to respond.
It had to be a big one if the message was going out to all the brigades in the area. She leaped to her feet as Fleur walked through the front door. “I’ve got to go.”
“What is it?” Fleur followed her into her bedroom.
“Bush fire – it’s a big one.” She threw on her gear, which still smelled of smoke and headed for the front door.
“Be careful.”
“I will.” As she strode outside, the siren at the station wailed. Fleur’s car was parked behind Mai’s, and since Fleur only lived a block away from the station, Mai jogged down the road, scanning the activity. Lawrence was there and Jeremy. The roller doors were open and more cars were pulling into the car park. Everyone was responding. That was good.
She waved to a couple of kids playing in the front yard as a dark van screeched to a halt in front of her, almost running her down. She stumbled and crashed into the back of it. What on earth? Her heart pounding from the shock, she turned to give the driver a piece of her mind. It wasn’t like she was invisible in her high-vis fire-fighting gear.
She registered his blond hair and the bruised, scowling face.
The man Creepy Guy had been teaching a lesson.
Fear spiked, but it was too late. His fist ploughed into her face.
And everything went black.
Someone had filled Mai’s head with the whir of ten mixers on high. Her head buzzed as her body rolled and bumped. Carefully she opened her eyes. Where was she? What had happened? She braced one hand beside her, felt the thin carpet she was lying on, and lifted the other hand to her head hoping to dull the pain.
The fabric-lined roof above her was almost close enough for her to reach up and touch it and she shared the space with a white surfboard, still a little sandy and smelling of the ocean. Why was she in the back of a van? And why was she wearing her fire-fighting gear?
Memories came back to her. The fire call-out, jogging down to the station, the van, the blond punching her.
She’d been kidnapped.
She closed her eyes to push away the incessant buzzing and tried to focus. Where was he taking her? What did he want? Had Creepy Guy sent him because she hadn’t died in the fire?
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