Southern Sunset: Book One of 44 South

by Nicola Claire

  Mac took a step closer.

  “You can go in there,” I said carefully. “But you won’t like it. And that’s what he wants. He wants you off guard. He wants you broken.”

  “I can’t not go in there, Maggie,” Matt said. I nodded my head in understanding.

  My eyes caught Mac’s. He stepped up to Matt’s side.

  “I’m right here with you, boss,” he said quietly.

  “I think I need to do this alone,” Matt replied, voice rough with such depth of emotion.

  “OK,” Mac said. “We’re here if you need us.”

  Matt walked into the room and everything fell silent. The guys downstairs. Our police radios. The birds in the trees outside.

  Silence has a way of making you feel. Fear. Wonder. Heartache.

  I stood in silence with Andrew McQueen, a hard nosed southern cop, and felt my heart break as Mac’s did beside me.

  And Matthew Drake silently mourned his wife.

  Chapter 54

  What’s Wrong?

  Luke

  “Nothing yet,” Marinkovich said. “I’m waiting on your brother.”

  “What do you want?” I demanded.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Tell me,” he said instead. “Did he lose it? Did he walk in there and stare at the life Missy kept hidden from him and wonder if I was better?”

  What the fuck was he talking about?

  “I would have put a camera up, so I could watch it again and again at my leisure. But that new kuja cop got her search warrants in record time. Never mind. This is better.”

  I needed to keep him talking. Find out where he was and what he wanted without making him flip out. He sounded calm enough. Hell, he sounded emotionless. But it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for. The lamb that doesn’t bleat. The stag that charges.

  “What’s better?” I asked.

  “He took something of mine,” Marinkovich growled. “He didn’t deserve her. So, I’m paying back the favour.”

  “Where’s my father?” I demanded.

  “Tell Matt,” Marinkovich said. “That I’m waiting.”

  The phone went dead.

  “Jesus!” I shouted, almost hurling the damn thing across the reception area.

  Sheila let out a little squeak and I swung around to face her. I’d forgotten she was even there. I’d completely blanked out the world around me. I stared at the reception desk of the Twizel Police Station and racked my mind.

  Marinkovich had Dad. Maybe even Mum. Which meant…

  “Fucking hell,” I said, swiping the phone open again. I dialled Justin.

  “Hey, this Justin. Leave a message. You know you want to.”

  I swiped the phone closed and dialled the vineyard.

  Five torturous minutes later, I realised just how bad it was. I stared at the now blank screen on my phone and knew I had only one option. Taking a deep breath of air, I pressed the button, raising the phone to my ear.

  I caught Sheila’s eye. She looked ashen. I felt as lightheaded as she appeared.

  Maggie answered on the third ring.

  “Hey,” she said, making it suddenly easier to breathe.

  “Hey,” I replied, closing my eyes and ducking my chin to my chest, sighing.

  “What’s wrong?” came her immediate, high-alert, answer.

  “Is Matt with you?”

  “Um, kind of,” she hedged.

  “Maggie?”

  “He’s, well, he’s in Marinkovich’s room looking over the fucker’s shrine to Missy.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  “Marinkovich wasn’t here,” she added. “Just this message.”

  “Is Matt OK?”

  “Holding it together,” she said quietly.

  I swallowed. I didn’t know how to start.

  “What’s wrong?” Maggie said again. How did this woman get me? How did she see through my bullshit to what was inside?

  “Ah, fuck, Maggie,” I said. “Marinkovich just called me from Dad’s mobile.”

  Chapter 55

  Not Yet

  Maggie

  “He did what? Tell me everything,” I demanded. Mac came up from his lean against the wall opposite me, eyes hard, hands in pockets. He glanced toward the still open doorway to Marinkovich’s bedroom, and I nodded my head in the same direction.

  He moved off to stand in the opening, keeping an eye on me and our still silent boss.

  “He just called my cell phone,” Luke said, sounding shocked. “I can’t get hold of Justin either. And the staff at the retirement village said Mum and the girls were with Dad when he left there this morning.”

  Oh, God, this was bad.

  “You did good checking,” I said, keeping my voice level. “Have you tried the station?”

  “Not yet. Do you think he’s there? With them? Should I get Charlie to swing by the homestead?”

  “No,” I answered immediately. We needed to contain this. “We’ve got this, Luke. Just hang tight, I’ll call you back.”

  “Maggie, I’m not hanging tight,” he said, and hung up.

  God damn son of a bitch.

  Matt walked out of the room then, looking stoic and red eyed. “What’s happening?” he asked, shoulders hunched, back bowed.

  I stared at him. Mac cocked an eyebrow at me when I didn’t say anything for too long.

  “Sergeant?” Matt queried, standing a little taller. “What’s going on?”

  I let out a slow, long breath, then lifted my chin.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  It kind of warped into a military operation then. Carter caught wind of the hostage situation and considering he was senior to me and Matt’s family was involved, he took over. Which, all things considered, I was actually quite relieved about.

  “We’ll go in via this back access road,” Omarama’s senior sergeant was saying. “He’ll be watching for vehicles on the main drive and there’s absolutely no cover there should he start picking us off.”

  “You could also come in from the north ridge,” Matt advised. No one had asked him to leave. It didn’t seem right, let alone possible. “You’d need horses, but he wouldn’t see you coming until you were right on top of him.”

  “Who can ride?” Carter asked. Mac and Annmarie both put up their hands, plus a constable from Omarama. “Horses?” Carter asked Matt.

  “Devon McIntyre will set you up. Station to the west. You can cross over to the north ridge from his place,” he said to Mac.

  “Got it,” Mac replied.

  “Then go!” Carter ordered, and they were off.

  “The rest of us can come in from the rear, passing the main shed here,” Carter advised, pointing to a hastily drawn map of Red Tussock.

  “We need his focus elsewhere,” I said, indicating the driveway.

  “Anyone on that thing will be picked off before they make it within spitting distance of the homestead,” Carter advised.

  “Without the distraction, both those approaching from section one’s equipment shed and the north ridge won’t make it,” I argued.

  “She’s right,” Matt said, giving me a contemplative look. “The cover’s better for longer sou’-west, but not all the way to the house.”

  “Damn it!” Carter said. “It’s a fucking nightmare whichever way we approach it.”

  “He’s already fixated on me,” I offered, trying to breathe steadily through my nose and act like I had this “I wouldn’t have to get within firing range to catch his eye. Once he caught sight of me, he’d be unwilling to look elsewhere.”

  “Maggie,” Matt said softly.

  “I’ve pissed him off too.”

  “Not as much as me and he doesn’t want me dead.”

  “Not yet. But the minute he sees you, he could put a bullet in one of your family.” Matt blanched. “He wants you to suffer, Matt. More than he wants me to be dead. I’m just someone who’s called his bluff and his ego’s been hurt. He and I’ll have a nice, long, insult ridden
conversation, while you lot,” I looked at Carter in particular - I doubted Matt would be allowed anywhere near the homestead - “get in the house and neutralise him.”

  “It’s about as good a plan as we’ve got,” Carter said.

  And I knew I had them. I just wasn’t so sure I could pull it off and not end up dead.

  Chapter 56

  I Needed My Heart To Stop Bleeding

  Luke

  Matt walked into the station just as I was walking out. He was carrying a rifle.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Where do you think?” I replied, pushing past him and heading toward my ute.

  “Just hold up,” he called, chasing after me. His hand landed on my shoulder and halted any further progress. “I need to grab some ammo and then I’ll come with.”

  “You don’t even know where I’m going,” I pointed out.

  He snorted. “You’re my brother,” was all he said. “Just hang tight, OK? She’ll need cover.”

  He spun on his heel and headed back toward the station before I could get him to clarify.

  I knew Maggie would be in the thick of it at Red Tussock. That’s why I had every intention of heading there. What I’d do once I got there, I hadn’t quite decided. It seemed, though, that Matt had it figured out.

  It was strange to see him back in command of himself and his job again. Sure, we hadn’t dealt with the IPCA and Markinovich had fucked things up with Red Tussock. And there was Mum and Dad, Justin and the twins to think about. But I hadn’t seen Matt this focused for months.

  Finn had said Maggie might be the one to get him out of his funk. I just hadn’t realised her presence alone, asking questions, turning over boulders, digging in the dirt, would do it. A small smile edged the corner of my lips; it had no right to be there. Not right now when so much was up in the air. But the thought of Maggie alone seemed to make me want to grin like a teenage boy.

  My hands itched to touch her, my arms ached to hold her. My heart beat just for her. I wanted a moment for everything to slow down. For the world to stop spinning out of control and for Maggie to be standing before me. Her face tipped up to mine, her lips waiting to be ravished. Her hair tied back and begging for my fingers to entwine.

  I was shit scared I wouldn’t get that chance. Everything was happening too quickly. And once it was over, for good or for bad, Maggie would leave and head back to Auckland. Head back to CIB and her mute brother.

  My chest ached; I rubbed it. My head hurt; I closed my eyes. I hadn’t planned to fall in love with the new police sergeant. I hadn’t planned to do anything more than just fuck her.

  It was all twisted up like a tangle of brambles. Every way I turned, I scratched the hell out of my body. I was bleeding on the inside and the more my heart beat the more I bled.

  For Maggie.

  Matt emerged from the station and strode toward me.

  “We’ll go in through the front gate,” he said. “Maggie will have beaten us there by now, but she had instructions to hold off on getting too close to the building.”

  “She’s going in alone?” I demanded, swinging the driver’s side door of my truck open. Matt rounded the hood and took the passenger side.

  “Three pronged approach. Maggie’s the distraction.”

  “You’re letting my woman be the bait?” I all but shouted at him across the roof of the vehicle.

  Matt raised his eyebrows at me. “I objected, but I’m not exactly in charge anymore.”

  “Bullshit,” I snapped. “You’re still senior sergeant of this station, even if Omarama has taken control. You could have vetoed it.”

  “Maggie’s a big girl,” Matt said carefully. “She knows what she’s doing.”

  But she didn’t know I was in love with her. She didn’t know she was making me bleed.

  “Fuck you, Matt,” I said, slamming the door closed behind me.

  He took a second, and then finally entered the ute, placing his rifle on the floorboard beside him. Three boxes of ammo were stashed in the footwell. I shook my head. Matt had always been one for overkill, even when we’d been kids.

  I started the truck and pulled out onto the road. Maggie had done Twizel to Red Tussock in twenty minutes. I was aiming for fifteen.

  I made it in twelve. Fuck Matt and his white knuckles. I needed my heart to stop bleeding.

  Chapter 57

  Just The Beating Of My Heart Inside My Chest

  Maggie

  Nothing stirred in the homestead. Not a curtain. Not a shadow of movement. Not a sound. For the first time since I’d been coming here, Red Tussock felt abandoned.

  We’d ordered all station staff to exit the property by the back roads out past the main shed. In theory, the only people on the farm were either armed police officers, Ivan Marinkovich, or the hostages.

  I closed my eyes briefly as I took another measured step closer to the front door. I had to keep reminding myself that Mr and Mrs Drake, Rachel and Dani, and Justin were just hostages. If I let my mind wander to who they actually were, my heart kept breaking.

  I sucked in a breath of air and felt like I was drowning. Marinkovich hadn’t been covering his tracks today. The implication was devastating.

  The bomb at the garage practically had his signature written all over it, leading us to discover his former association with the OSRH. Or Oružane snage Republike Hrvatske: The military service of the Republic of Croatia.

  The storage unit rented under his own name had the black Ford Ranger ute that had run me off the road. Complete with white paint transfer which would, I was sure, match the paint of my police issued sedan.

  His home held a shrine to his former lover. Evidence of their affair. Photographs dating back six months prior to Missy’s death. Every picture proved his guilt. Signed his arrest warrant.

  Fuck, he’d even had leftover 1080 in his garden shed.

  Packets of his cigarettes and been taken into evidence. The ash found in Whiting’s wallet would be matched against the brand of smokes he favoured. It didn’t look good for Ivan Marinkovich.

  Which left me with one question.

  If he’d hidden out here in Mackenzie Country for the past twenty years without anyone, other than Sheila, suspecting anything about him, why throw in the towel now? He could have run. He could have misdirected; I didn’t for a second think he didn’t have those kinds of skills.

  But instead he’d left bread crumbs the size of VW beetles. Or, as the case may be, Ford Ranger vehicles.

  Matt had confirmed he’d been working on the Red Tussock Rangers for the past few weeks. Doing some service related maintenance. As well as some on site work on the station’s back up generator up in the main shed.

  We had motive.

  We had access.

  We had more than circumstantial evidence.

  And still he hadn’t run.

  I took another step toward the house, my eyes scanning the facade for any signs of inhabitants. The front door was open, as if someone had left in a hurry. Maybe one of the station staff when they got the evacuation phone call.

  Maybe Marinkovich.

  I shook my head and sucked in another breath of air. My fingers itched to draw my firearm. Perspiration dotted my brow, making my fringe stick to skin. A tingling started up between my shoulder blades, making me look farther afield than just the building before me.

  The front pastures provided very little in the way of coverage. I’d parked my borrowed police ute behind the last row of trees and walked in on foot down the driveway. If Marinkovich was back there in the tree line, I was screwed. But I hadn’t seen or heard anything, and I’d been paying attention.

  I’d also long ago passed the point of no return. If Marinkovich was in the house, his bullet would reach me.

  I hesitated. Just for a second. More academic in nature than for any practical reason. And then walked toward the steps leading up to the porch of the house.

  Nothing moved.

  No sounds were made
.

  Just the beating of my heart inside my chest.

  Chapter 58

  But Matt Wasn’t Far Behind

  Luke

  “What the fuck is she doing?” Matt demanded. He was lying on his stomach in the fallen leaves of an oak tree, his rifle sights on the house and Maggie.

  “She’s going in,” I said, stating the fucking obvious. “Why is she going in? Where’s the others?”

  Where was fucking Marinkovich?

  Matt blinked, sweat dribbling down the side of his temple, his finger rock steady above the trigger, but not quite on it. He narrowed his eye as he peered through the scope, the rifle shifting slightly as he took in each window.

  “I don’t see movement inside,” he said quietly.

  Maggie, was all that was on repeat inside my head.

  She climbed the steps to the porch.

  “Her gun’s out,” Matt advised.

  Maggie.

  She cocked her head, then stepped to the side, placing her back against the front wall of the homestead, just to the left hand side of the open front door.

  “Did she hear something?”

  Maggie.

  She crouched down and peered around the frame, leading with her gun held in both hands. She cupped the fist gripping the weapon with her palm, the hold secure and steady.

  “She’s going in,” Matt said.

  Maggie.

  His rifle shifted, his eye glued to the scope. He checked first one side of the house then the other. Then the roof and back to the front door.

  By the time he’d done that, Maggie was gone from sight.

  Maggie.

  “She’s inside,” he said, taking his hand away from the rifle and pulling out a cell phone. He swiped the screen and brought it his ear, then held it between his cheek and shoulder, while his hand went back to the rifle.