Shiloh (Wishes #6)

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  “No she won’t.” I smoothed my hand through her hair. “She’s making a poultice.”

  Having a wound plastered with a pungent mix of bread soaked in herbs is only scary the first time. Mimi had used this method to patch me up a million times over the years, usually after I’d been shredded by low-lying reef in the surf, and once when I stood on a rusty nail. “It’s pretty gross,” I conceded. “But it works like magic.”

  “It is magic,” boomed Mimi, marching into the room. “Two days from now he’ll be back to his old dumb self.” She knelt beside me, stirring a bowl of gloop with her bare hand.

  “Be warned, lady,” I mumbled. “Sleeping beside me for the next few nights will be hell. A few hours from now I’m going to stink like a wet dog.”

  “You won’t be my problem,” she replied. “I’m on night shift, remember?”

  “You have to come home some time.”

  Without warning, Mimi slopped a handful of goo on my face. From the corner of my eye I saw Shiloh wince. I didn’t move. It wasn’t painful, just warm and unpleasant.

  “Hang in there, soldier,” she encouraged.

  “He is not a soldier,” snapped Mimi. “He’s a dumb boy who doesn’t know how to play by the rules.”

  “Whose rules?” asked Shiloh.

  Mimi shot her a filthy look but didn’t reply. I had no problem spelling it out for her. “Louis’ rules. Mimi thinks the best way to keep the peace is to meet his demands and pay him off.”

  “It is the only way,” she grumbled. “He is a very bad man.”

  Considering my current state, it was hard to argue the point. I stayed quiet and Mimi continued painting my face with slop, but Shiloh had a few burning questions.

  “Have you had any dealings with him, Mimi?”

  “Not even Louis could get blood from a stone,” she scoffed. “I am a poor woman.” She pressed a warm cloth to my cheek, holding her mushy concoction in place. “I have no money for him.”

  Poor locals weren’t of any interest to Louis Osei. It was predominantly the businesspeople of Kaimte who kept his crooked rackets going. As long as Mimi stayed out of his way she had nothing to fear.

  “Just steer clear of him,” I suggested. “He’s a loose cannon.”

  Mimi let out a choked growl. “I am not afraid of him,” she spat. “Man is far less dangerous when obnoxious and throwing his weight around.”

  “Why?” asked Shiloh.

  Mimi turned around to look at her. “Because the roaring lion catches no prey.”

  Bad Attitude

  SHILOH

  African medicine is not for the faint of heart. By the time Mimi left late that afternoon, the shack smelt like a fridge full of rotting food. Strangely, the bedroom didn’t stink, which meant Mitchell was still totally kissable – he just wasn’t cute any more.

  “You look like a giant bowl of porridge.”

  “Come here and say that, lady.” His voice was low and gorgeous, totally making up for his disgusting appearance. “I dare you.”

  I stood firm by the doorway. “I’m not coming anywhere near you,” I replied, brushing my hands down the front of my shirt. “I’m already dressed for work.”

  “So I see,” he replied. “You’re looking as lovely and crispy as always.”

  The ribbing was warranted. My strange penchant for ironing wasn’t a Shiloh Jenson trait; the quirk was entirely Shiloh Brannan’s. Perhaps that’s why I was happy to own it.

  “Trust me, Adonis,” I told him, “you’re in no position to be teasing me about looking crispy.”

  “It’ll all be worth it.” He put his hand to his face. “Tomorrow I’ll be good to go.”

  I kissed him gently. “I’m looking forward to it,” I whispered.

  “Me too,” he mumbled. “Be sure to iron your bin bin beads.”

  ***

  Every time I walked out of the shack, I left one life and walked into another. I was getting good at starting over, but that didn’t mean my job was getting easier.

  My heart pounded as I made my way up to the road to meet Glen. I trudged through the sand as if my shoes were made of cement, but it was the wad of money in my back pocket that was really weighing me down.

  I had no strategy when it came to dealing with Glen Harris, unless playing dumb was a strategy.

  As soon as I got into the waiting car, I handed him the envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  Clearly he was good at playing dumb too.

  “Money.” My flat tone implied disinterest but inside I was jelly. “Your mate Louis asked me to give it to you.”

  Without bothering to count it, Glen slipped the envelope into his back pocket. When he started the car and pulled away from the curb I feared the conversation was over.

  That’s when my plan of playing it dumb started to fall apart. Dumb girls don’t ask questions, which meant I had no choice but to keep quiet. Fortunately, Glen was curious. After just a few minutes, his subtle but obvious interrogation began.

  “How do you know Louis?”

  “I’m not sure that I do,” I replied vaguely. “He’s an odd bloke.”

  I glanced across just long enough to notice the sly smirk forming on his face. “So he just gave you a bunch of money and you took it?”

  I leaned my head back on the headrest and sighed, adding to the illusion of apathy. “Running errands is easier than stealing diamonds.”

  “You were serious about that?” The surprise in his voice was unmistakable. It sounded a lot like victory.

  I lazily turned to look at him. “As long as he pays me for my services, I’m up for anything.”

  “You have a bad attitude, Shiloh,” he told me.

  “And you have a big fat wad of money in your pocket,” I reminded him. “So I guess that makes two of us.”

  ***

  In a dizzying shift, Glen barely left my side that night. I doubt I’d risen in his estimation. It was more likely that he was keeping an eye on me. The newfound chumminess even extended as far as eating together. When our dinner break came at midnight, Glen joined me at a table in the corner.

  After hours of avoiding the subject, I finally mentioned Louis’ payoff over a plate of curried fish and rice. “So what did you do to earn that kind of money?”

  I tried not to predict his answer, but my mind was already in overdrive. I suspected Glen was stealing diamonds and on-selling them to Louis. I just needed him to confirm it.

  He glanced at his watch. “In half an hour from now you’ll find out.”

  Playing it cool was getting harder to do, but I tried. “Excellent,” I replied. “Enough time to finish dinner.”

  When he checked his watch again I realised it was a nervous gesture. And when his foot started bouncing under the table, I wondered what the hell I was in for.

  ***

  Now more than ever, I was convinced that the change to our roster was deliberate. The mine ran completely differently at night. The process was the same, but dark corners appeared that weren’t there in the daytime.

  There wasn’t a soul around to see us get into Glen’s car in the dead of night. Considering my trust for the man was at an all-time low, I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  He drove for quite a while, following the dirt road that lined the perimeter fence. I knew better than to ask where we were going. If ever there was a wait-and-see moment, this was it.

  Glen finally spoke. “Have you been to the maintenance workshop before?”

  I nodded. “Once or twice.” I’d never seen the workshop at the Kaimte mine, but presumably it was the same as the Australian operation. From what I remembered, it housed the massive assortment of mining equipment and tools used for the day-to-day running of the mine. “Are we meeting someone there?” I asked.

  Glen didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t say another word until we pulled up outside the massive steel maintenance shed. “Get out,” he ordered.

  I did as I was told, mainly because there
was nothing remotely threatening about the scene we’d driven up to.

  Unlike the rest of the processing plant, the workshop was a hive of activity. Everywhere I looked, there were people working on trucks and other heavy machinery. It was noisy and busy – and it was the last place I expected a diamond trade to go down.

  When Glen walked over to the perimeter fence, I followed. The desert beyond the fence line was pitch black, but when he gazed into the distance as if he could see for miles, I did too.

  “What are you looking at?” For some reason I whispered the question.

  “Nothing,” he replied. “I’m more interested in what’s looking at us.”

  Glen took a small torch out of his pocket and pointed it at the fence, flashing it on and off three times.

  “How cliché,” I mocked.

  “But effective,” he replied, returning the torch to his pocket.

  He was right. Not more than two seconds later, all hell broke loose.

  Three sets of blinding headlights lit the darkness on the other side of the fence. As the vehicles drew closer a group of men came running out of the workshop and cut the chain link fence apart with the precision of a crack SWAT team.

  Before I realised what was happening, the police officer in me kicked in. My hand instinctively shifted to my side, reaching for a gun I didn’t have. Thankfully, Glen didn’t pick up on the move, but he must’ve sensed my nervousness. “Don’t look so worried,” he teased. “You’re amongst friends.”

  A ute pulled up first, closely followed by a large flatbed truck. The last vehicle to join the party was very familiar to me. It was Louis’ thuggish black Range Rover.

  Six men jumped off the tray of the ute and made a beeline for the workshop. Louis moved more slowly. He got out of his car and stalked toward me, his sly smile cutting through the darkness.

  “Welcome, Shiloh,” he drawled, arms spread wide. “How wonderful of you to join us.”

  “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” I replied, trying to sound upbeat.

  At first, I wasn’t sure what “it” was, but when Louis’ men began hauling goods out of the workshop, things became a whole lot clearer.

  It was a robbery, and it had nothing to do with diamonds. Louis had paid Glen thousands of dollars to turn a blind eye while his men robbed the joint.

  Everything from generators to fuel tanks was loaded onto the back of the ute. Standing by and watching it happen went against everything I’ve ever stood for, but my moral compass was so askew that it barely even registered as a crime.

  Too preoccupied to make small talk, Louis wandered away. Glen and I watched from the sidelines as he played the part of project manager, barking orders at his men and yelling at them to hurry up.

  Glen leaned his back against the car and lit up a cigarette, unfazed by the criminal chaos in front of us. It made me wonder if shenanigans like this were commonplace.

  “Not quite what you were expecting, eh?” he asked.

  I glanced at him only briefly. “No,” I conceded. “I was hoping for something a little less in-your-face.”

  Glen chuckled, a rumbly noise that sounded as crooked as he was. “It’s a decent little earner,” he explained. “Osei scratches my back, I scratch his. If you’re a good girl, maybe he’ll let you in on a little more action.”

  There’s an art to letting someone think they’re corrupting you. I couldn’t appear too eager or too reluctant. I had to sell my story carefully, and I did it with a hint of reluctance and a small dose of arrogance. “This is a diamond mine,” I reminded him. “Why would I bother with small-time schemes like this when there are diamonds here for the taking?”

  His cigarette sparked through the air as he flicked it onto the ground. “This isn’t a small scheme,” he replied.

  At that moment an engine fired up noisily from somewhere close by. A minute later, a massive bulldozer slowly backed out of the workshop. I watched in absolute disbelief as it was loaded onto the back of the flatbed truck.

  “They’re stealing a freaking bulldozer?” I asked incredulously. “Surely management will notice it gone.”

  “Nope,” replied Glen, pulling another smoke out of the packet. “It’ll be back before anyone misses it.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to elaborate, but then I remembered what a bigheaded jerk he was. Tweedledee was a bragger, and by the time he’d taken the last drag on his cigarette, he’d laid out the whole story.

  Along with his many other dodgy ventures, Louis was in the construction game. It didn’t matter that he had no heavy machinery to carry out the work. Every time he landed a job, he’d steal what he needed from the mine and return it when the work was complete.

  “Unbelievable,” I muttered.

  “I don’t look at it as stealing,” Glen explained. “It’s more like borrowing.”

  The look of disgust I directed at him wasn’t appropriate. I was supposed to be on board with the stupidity. “So nothing to do with diamonds?”

  He shook his head, grinning. “You backed the wrong horse this time.”

  It’s always strange to hear insightful words coming from a fool’s mouth. Glen was oblivious, but the gravity of the situation hit me hard. I was effectively back at square one – no closer to getting to the bottom of the diamond thefts than the first day I stepped off the plane.

  ***

  An hour later, the stolen cargo was loaded up and good to go. Louis made a point of approaching us before leaving. In a strange display of respect and good manners, he shook Glen’s hand. “Until next time, friend,” he said. I wanted to retch, but held it together. Louis turned to me. “I want you to come to my shop on market day.” His tone was quiet but demanding. “I will pay you then.”

  It was a less than ideal arrangement. From what Mitchell had told me, Louis’ pawnshop at the markets wasn’t the safest of places.

  “I expected payment tonight.” Trying to sound outraged, I snapped out the words.

  Louis grabbed my hand, dipped his head and kissed it. “All good things come to those who wait, beautiful friend.”

  It was another insightful statement out of the mouth of a different fool. For now the waiting game would continue, but good things were coming. Sooner or later I was going to nail these men to the wall.

  Angst

  MITCHELL

  I spent nearly a week laid up in bed, which was almost as excruciating as my injuries. Thanks to Mimi’s unorthodox nursing methods, my face healed quickly. There was no quick fix for broken ribs, but at least I was on my feet by then.

  Despite the fact that surfing was off the agenda, morning was still my favourite time of day. I always woke early, stealing a wasteful hour or two lazing on the deck before Shiloh got home. Mother Nature had been serving up dismal waves to the Kaimte coastline all week. Perhaps she was taking pity on me. After a few days of useless chop, the ocean was as calm as a millpond, which is more than could be said for my neighbours.

  Vincent and Melito were men of excess. Everything was over the top – from the parties they hosted to the amount of booze they consumed. Living in Kaimte should’ve curbed their frivolous ways, but it didn’t. They just shopped accordingly. Every few months they’d make a three-day bus journey south to Cape Town, stock up on ouzo and baking supplies, and then make the long trek home. They were leaving later that day, and excitement was getting the better of them.

  “You should come,” encouraged Melito, dragging a suitcase out onto the porch. “Bring your darling girl.”

  My Jeep was a chariot compared to the Cape Town bus. How they endured it was beyond me, but they loved ouzo enough to put up with the overcrowding and livestock roaming free in the aisle.

  “Maybe next time.”

  Vincent stepped out and threw an empty suitcase onto the beach. “Pack this one too.”

  Melito leaned over the railing to look at it. “How am I supposed to pack a suitcase?”

  “Very carefully,” he replied making me chuckle. “I don’t wan
t it damaged.”

  “You just hurled it onto the sand!” Melito complained. “You, my good man, are a fool.” Both men retreated inside, but it made little difference. Their conversation could’ve been heard a mile away.

  Blocking it out wasn’t difficult. Shiloh wandered into view, giving me something far more pleasant to focus on. “Hey.” She stepped onto the deck. “How’s the patient?”

  “Patience is gone, lady,” I replied. “It’s all angst and frustration here.” As soon as she was within reach, I pulled her into my lap.

  “It looks good on you.” She moved her mouth to my ear. “All that angst.”

  “You look good on me,” I corrected, undoing the top button on her stiff work shirt. “Even when you’re dressed like a bloke.”

  I’d rather she was buck naked, but it wouldn’t have been a polite scenario considering we were in plain view of the neighbours. For now, I had to settle for a bit of cleavage.

  “You are so beautiful.” I leaned forward and kissed her collarbone. “I think you should let me take you to bed.”

  “I think you should take her to Cape Town instead,” interrupted a voice from next door. “The bus leaves at two.”

  “Oh, my God,” muttered Shiloh, quickly rebuttoning her shirt.

  The embarrassment should’ve been all Melito’s, but he leaned against the railing as if he’d just started a casual conversation.

  “Show the lady some proper romance,” he continued. “It’ll keep the flame alive.”

  Shiloh scrambled off my lap, nowhere near as gently as she’d sat down. “I’m going inside,” she muttered. “To die in private.”

  “Enjoy your day, darling Shiloh!” called Melito, following up with a friendly wave that she didn’t see. The man was incorrigible.

  I levered myself out of the deckchair as the front door slammed. “How long did you say you were going to be out of town for?” I asked.

  Melito grinned. “Two weeks.”