Southern Star: Destiny Romance

by JC Grey

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Warning me you’re trouble – like I didn’t already know.’

  ‘I thought he liked me,’ she said, a little miffed.

  Mac turned his head momentarily, eyes unreadable. ‘He does. He gets a kick from thinking about you messing up my life.’

  Blaze blew a curl off her face. She could hardly deny it when they were on their way to be interviewed by police.

  It turned out to be less confronting than she had expected. Mac was being interviewed separately by Detective Sergeant Ryan’s boss, Inspector Elsom, so she followed Ryan down a badly painted corridor and requested a glass of water when he offered refreshments. He returned a minute later with a plastic cup, which she accepted gratefully.

  She made her statement about yesterday’s events and Ryan asked a few more questions, but he seemed to want to keep it casual, she supposed to avoid giving her a reason to seek legal counsel.

  ‘You said the back door was open when you arrived home yesterday,’ he said when she fell silent.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who has a key?’

  ‘I have two, including the one I gave to you. Rowdy Parsons has a third and Trent Blamey a fourth.’

  Her phone buzzed to indicate a message, but she ignored it. Ryan looked at her. ‘Was that young Trent Blamey calling?’

  ‘Trent?’ She glanced at her phone. ‘Yes. How did you know?’

  ‘Our blokes spoke to Trent and Rowdy a short time ago. Rowdy swore he locked up yesterday, but it seems the young bloke lost his key weeks back.’

  Blaze’s eyes widened. ‘He never said anything.’

  Ryan shrugged. ‘He was embarrassed. But it could explain how someone got in. He said he was going to call you to apologise.’

  He was silent for a few minutes and she got the impression he was weighing up his options.

  ‘I can’t get involved directly in the LAPD case, Ms Gillespie, you know that.’

  Blaze nodded, wondering where this was going.

  ‘Look, I’m pretty sure I’m speaking out of turn here, but I feel there’s a political angle at play in the investigation into Mitch Redmond’s death,’ he said, finally. ‘I get the impression Detective Fabrese has been under pressure from his superiors on this case.’

  ‘The governor is not a fan,’ she told him. ‘He’s a born-again Christian.’

  Ryan smiled. ‘Fabrese said as much. I spoke to him early today to update him on the situation here. He was very encouraging, although he wasn’t able to be specific. The sense I got was that Fabrese was suspicious about the way your DNA presented.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  He hesitated. ‘Reading between the lines, Fabrese wants to exhaust any possibility that you were set up before he takes things further. I really can’t say any more, and I must warn you about getting your hopes up. You are by no means in the clear yet.

  ‘However, given that there are people in positions of power whose standing might benefit from a conviction against you, I would seriously advise you to seek legal advice. Have you consulted a lawyer?’

  ‘No, not since leaving LA,’ she admitted. ‘Officially, I’m still a witness. When I was interviewed by police in January, I wanted to help. I still do. I don’t have anything to hide. But, rationally, I understand that the LAPD can’t ignore the fact that I was the last person to see Mitch alive.’ She sighed. ‘Except for his killer.’

  ‘Why do you think Mitch Redmond was killed?’

  ‘At the time, I thought . . . maybe a robbery gone wrong. That’s still the most likely explanation, isn’t it?’ She looked at Ryan hopefully but he stayed mute. ‘Then I thought that maybe I was the target at the movie festival. That perhaps a fan of Mitch’s – someone who believed I’d murdered him – was so enraged they decided to take the law into their own hands but accidentally killed Beth Laurensen instead of me.’

  ‘Sounds reasonable.’

  ‘Or that I was the target both times. I had been at Mitch’s, maybe the killer expected to find me still there.’ She watched the time on the wall clock tick around to one. ‘Mac thinks someone might be trying to punish me. Might have followed me here.’

  Ryan raised his eyebrows. ‘Does he?’

  ‘But it doesn’t explain Peggy Fairchild. I didn’t know her.’ She went to continue and stopped with a laugh. ‘You’re very good at this. Sitting there and saying nothing while I spill my guts.’

  Ryan grinned. ‘Don’t stop now.’

  She shook her head. ‘I think Mac’s overreacting after yesterday, but I can’t deny I’m creeped out.’

  He held her gaze. ‘Are you in an intimate relationship with Macauley Black, Ms Gillespie?’

  Blaze waited a beat before nodding, wondering what Mac had told his friend. ‘Is this relevant?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Did Mac tell you something different?’

  He ignored her question. ‘When did the relationship begin?’

  ‘Some weeks ago. What difference does that make?’ she shot back.

  ‘Was Mac the father of your miscarried child?’

  She closed her eyes and nodded. ‘I’ll remind you of my right to privacy. If this becomes public knowledge, I will take legal action.’

  ‘I take it that’s a “yes”.’ He looked up at a knock on the door and went to answer it. The inspector came into the room.

  ‘Can I have a word, Detective Sergeant?’

  ‘Excuse me,’ he murmured. Blaze could hear nothing through the door, but he returned less than a minute later.

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  He nodded. ‘Mac has confirmed your relationship. I think we have everything we need for now. Forensics has finished at Sweet Springs so you’re free to return.’

  ‘Thank you. Rowdy will be pleased he can get back to work,’ she said as he walked her to Mac, who was pacing impatiently at the front desk. His eyes darkened when he saw her.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked her.

  ‘Yes.’

  He shot an impenetrable look Detective Sergeant Ryan’s way as he pulled her in close, the first possessive move he’d made in public since they’d returned from the US. But since their secret was already halfway out, was there any point in trying to hide it?

  ‘Let’s go.’ He walked her to the door.

  ‘I can go back to Sweet Springs,’ she told him.

  ‘Over my dead fucking body,’ he growled, his grip tightening

  Blaze let out a silent sigh of relief and gave him a dazzling smile.

  The dog was going to die.

  Right now, it was sitting outside the old stockman’s hut. Every so often the dog growled low and menacingly, showing its teeth, while its eyes glowed red in the dark. One look had been enough. The door was staying shut till dawn.

  From its response, it clearly remembered the incident at the waterhole and could give the whole game away if someone decided to follow it.

  No one had – yet – but tomorrow, who knew? It meant another move, and the barn at Sweet Springs was looking the likeliest option, particularly now the cops had finished their investigation. The bitch was at Rosmerta now, and days just meant avoiding the hired help.

  Avoiding or eliminating.

  ‘Bloody dog,’ Mac muttered, swinging long legs out of bed. Blaze came awake as the lamp clicked on.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s scratching at Peggy’s door again.’

  ‘Leave him. He’ll settle eventually.’

  Mac ignored her, something he’d been doing a lot of since she’d arrived at Rosmerta. Sighing, she shrugged into a robe and followed him out. Paddy whined when he saw them, and returned to scratching the door.

  ‘Paddy!’ Blaze threw open the door for the second night running to show him it was empty. He dived beneath the neatly made bed and dragged out a cap.

  ‘Down! Paddy.’ Blaze gingerly picked up the hat, which was now ripped and slo
bbered on. ‘I’m going to have to buy Peg a new hat.’

  ‘And keep Paddy away from her when she starts back tomorrow.’

  ‘Amos is clearly delighted his stint as cook was so short-lived.’ Blaze yawned. When Mac didn’t answer, she saw he was staring intently at the cap she was holding. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Peg’s sixty-one. She doesn’t wear caps like that.’ He looked around the room. ‘This is the temp cook’s. She was using this room while Peg was out of action.’

  ‘I’ll offer to replace it.’ Paddy was sniffing at the cap so she let him have it. It was ruined in any case. ‘Can we please go back to bed?’

  They followed the dog back into the master suite.

  ‘That’s the thing,’ Mac said. ‘She was only here for a few weeks and left days ago. Why would Paddy be so interested in her cap when he never had any contact with her?’

  Blaze groaned. ‘Who knows why dogs do half the things they do! That’s why they’re dogs and we’re humans. Anyway, he’s gone to bed.’ She pointed at where Paddy was curled up on his cushion in the corner of the room, eyes closed.

  Maybe she needed to make the next move to get their relationship back on track. ‘I’ll make it worth your while to follow his example,’ she said as she pushed him back on the bed and, sliding down his body, applied her mouth to make him groan. And Mac forgot all about cooks and caps and dogs.

  ‘God, I can’t wait until —’ His teeth stung her nipple and she cried out as he turned them so she was beneath him, her thighs opening on his demand, head arched back in sensual delight. His thumb brushed her apex, and she shuddered. Against her thigh she felt the fullness of him and ached for the long slow glide deep inside her. Nearly a month of abstinence had seemed like a year.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she managed. ‘I saw the doctor yesterday . . . said whenever I felt ready.’

  He pushed up on a fist, looked at her with those eyes. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Don’t stop. Don’t stop,’ she chanted, pulling him down again and he needed no encouragement. He didn’t stop, not for a long time. Not until both of them had been consumed by the flames.

  Peggy’s return the next day was greeted with a whoop from the hands and a misshapen cake from Amos. The clear delight on everyone’s faces went part-way to assuring Peg she was irreplaceable, and Mac’s grovelling apology did the rest.

  ‘You should have used the Harcourt Agency,’ she admonished him after Beau had herded the hands outside. ‘Like we do when I go on holiday.’

  ‘I did,’ he said. ‘I spoke to someone. They said they’d find a suitable candidate and the next day the Williams girl turned up.’

  ‘Well, I spoke to Janet Harcourt and she’d never heard of Emily Williams. I confronted her and, well, if looks could kill.’ She gave a dramatic shudder.

  ‘Hell,’ Mac said. ‘I’m sorry, Peg. I guess it was the timing. And she said she’d been over at the Malachi spread. Had a reference, too.’

  Peg bustled around the kitchen, restoring order. ‘Well, she’s gone. And good riddance.’ She turned on the dishwasher. ‘And how long is Miss Gillespie staying?’

  ‘Indefinitely . . . if I can persuade her to.’

  Peg turned around and stared so long Mac thought he might blush. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably.

  ‘Well,’ she said, finally, ‘that’s a first.’

  ‘Let me know if it causes any problems.’ Two women in one house didn’t always go, as recent events had proved.

  ‘Don’t see why it should. Took the time to come and say hello, asked me how I was. Got better manners than some others.’

  Mac grinned. ‘I’m heading out, taking her dog in case she asks.’

  He’d left Blaze in his office, deep in a phone call to Hollywood, something he didn’t want to think about.

  March had given way to April. Easter was just a week away, and then she’d be off to the States for rehearsals on her new movie. They hadn’t talked about the separation yet, or the lingering possibility that the LAPD would act against her in some way. After the disturbing event at Sweet Springs, both of them had seized the opportunity of a few days’ respite from the shadowy threat that remained just out of sight.

  Paddy followed Mac out to the stables and stood, ears cocked, as he saddled True. ‘Storm’s coming,’ he told the dog. ‘Need to check the fire breaks. Could do with the company.’

  Paddy woofed and trotted out of the stable block, seemingly on an errand of his own. Mac’s eyes followed him. ‘Looks like we’re on our own, mate,’ he murmured to True. The horse snickered and butted his arm.

  Mac led True out into the sunlight. Squinting against the bright light, he saw the build-up of cloud still hovered far to the north. There had been some lightning strikes in the distance last night and the far-off boom of thunder. Usually by this time of year the storm season was over, but after a summer so unrelentingly dry and with not a drop of rain in a month, every grazier was feeling nervous. The threat of bushfire was ever-present. They’d been lucky the last few years, but luck always ran out eventually.

  Swinging up on to True’s back, Mac trotted out of the yard just as Paddy reappeared, Emily’s old cap between his teeth. He dropped it, snarled and lowered his head, snapping at the cloth savagely as he shook his head from side to side. Mac had never seen him react like this before, not since the day he’d thought Mac was attacking Blaze.

  ‘What is it, mate? You trying to tell me the Williams girl was a strange one?’ he said. ‘I know that. But she’s long gone, never to darken the door again.’

  Paddy barked, lifted the cap between his teeth and trotted off through the gate. Just beyond it, he stopped and looked back once. Then he continued northwards.

  Bemused, Mac watched him. He shrugged. Paddy was heading more or less in the direction he needed to go, so he might as well see what the crazy hound was up to. Urging True forward, he cantered after the dog.

  Putting down the phone, Blaze hopped up and performed a brief jig of delight, fanning her face as she did. Who could blame her? She, Blaze Gillespie, the woman Hollywood loved to hate, had just been flirting with all-round Mr Nice Guy and the biggest box office draw alive, Nick Houston. Not to mention, he was a fixture on the sexiest-man-on-the-planet list – if there was such a thing – and her soon-to-be co-star in Siren.

  She’d managed to contain any outward expression of delight until Mac had wandered off. Not that he had anything to worry about, but their relationship was complicated enough without introducing jealousy into the volatile mix.

  With a great director and crew, Nick and fabulous supporting cast allied to a simply amazing screenplay, they were as close as anyone got to a sure thing in the movie business. Of course stuff happened – monsoonal weather, extravagant egos and out-of-control budgets had all conspired to sink a thousand and one promising movies since the dawn of talking pictures. But she could feel this was going to be big, provided her reputation and the LAPD investigation —

  No! She wasn’t going to anticipate trouble. She had a man she loved and a career-making role, not to mention a lot of work to do on preparing for filming and at Sweet Springs.

  Before it became too hot, she was going to drive home for the first time in nearly a week to check on progress. She’d phoned Trent to accept his apology for losing her key, and Rowdy had assured her that they hadn’t lost too much time, but she wanted to check in personally. She knew Mac wanted her to avoid Sweet Springs until the police laid charges over the break-in, but that could be never and she couldn’t put her life on hold indefinitely. It was enough, surely, that she spent her nights at Rosmerta.

  In the kitchen, she cajoled a packed lunch from Peggy, grabbed two bottles of water and plonked Mac’s old hat on her head. Leaning out of the kitchen door, she looked for Paddy on the back porch where he was often found snoozing.

  ‘Oh, the boss took the dog,’ Peggy called from the bench where she was busy chopping a huge pile of vegetables for the hands’ dinner. ‘Said to tell you.�
�

  Blaze shrugged. Since being at Rosmerta, Paddy usually split his time between them. Maybe she should be jealous, but in fact she was happy that they’d overcome their rocky start.

  She jogged down the steps, calling out goodbye to Peg, and waved to Amos, who was on the roof of the stable block, hammer in hand. Then, with a spray of red dust, she was heading for Sweet Springs. Happy with the world, she turned on the radio to a country rock station, rolled down the window and sang her heart out along with Keith Urban.

  The place was deserted, which made the task much easier and quicker. Speed was good. Who knew when the two fuckwits would be back, and a confrontation was not what the doctor ordered. Of course, it would have been better to wait until later when they’d gone for the day, but once the decision had been made, it took little more than five minutes to set it up, and two more to stand back, enjoy and anticipate.

  They’d never know who or why. And nor would the idiot cops. Beauty.

  ‘Rowdy?’ Blaze let herself in and stepped into the hall. ‘Trent? It’s me.’

  She shut the door behind her and went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. Peg’s cooking skills did not extend to her coffee. She went to the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘I’m making coffee.’

  When they didn’t answer, she frowned. Normally, she could hear the faint sound of voices or radio or power tools when they were working on the top floor. Walking up to the attic, she noticed the beautiful finish on the timber banister. At the top of the stairs, the gorgeous waterfall light fitting she’d chosen had been installed. Outside on the balcony, the new timber had been beautifully detailed to reflect the house’s heritage.

  The boys had clearly been hard at it since the dramas of last week, but wherever they were, they weren’t here now. Most likely they’d decided to pick up supplies in town before heading over.

  She felt inside her bag for her phone to give Rowdy a call. Where was the damn thing? Sack bags might look cool but could you ever find anything in them? Thirty seconds later, she had to admit that her bag was not to blame, this time. Her mobile, she was pretty sure, was lying in Mac’s office, where she’d left it in her dither after speaking to Nick Houston.