by Jennie Jones
‘Don’t check the museum,’ Luke told him. ‘I don’t want the men there to see us hanging around.’
‘Right,’ Will said, sounding irked. ‘First I’m supposed to keep my eye on the museum then I’m not. Another mystery for me to work my way around. So tell me, who are you hoping to get to go out with you? Rachel? Or Rebecca?’
Luke let out a breath. He should have known Will would run a check. ‘I had a hunch,’ he said. ‘I ran a check and found what you found.’
‘And the rest?’ Will asked.
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Jack Maxwell’s on it,’ Will said. ‘And the Crime Squad are on it. Whatever it is.’
Luke relented, although he’d rather have this conversation face to face. ‘From now on, stay off radio contact with me unless it’s official. Call me on my personal mobile from your personal mobile. Call me now.’
He cut the radio call and picked up his mobile. Five seconds later he answered Will’s call.
‘Yes,’ Luke confirmed. ‘The Crime Squad are involved. And on the dirty end of the stick, we’ve got Wiseman, the museum builders and God knows who else. But I’m almost as much in the dark as you are.’
‘And where are you now?’
‘I’ve been told to watch her.’
‘So Rachel’s wanted for something?’
‘Hell, no. She’s in trouble, Will.’
‘I guessed that. What’s she running from? Or who is she running from?’
‘I suspect it’s her ex-husband, Peter Fletcher. He attacked her two years ago, along with a guy she was having dinner with.’
‘Oh, Jesus,’ Will said. ‘I’m tired of this kind of violence more than I am of any other.’
‘Are you in the office?’
‘Yes.’
‘Fire up my computer.’ He gave him the password to do that and to the operation files, and told him to take a read after they’d finished this call. ‘There’s something else,’ he said. ‘Tani Jones says there’s some guy hanging around.’
‘Hanging around for what?’
‘Me. From my past. But I think it’s for Rachel.’ He adjusted the belt on his waist and settled into a different position on the seat. ‘Two more persons reported seeing the green station wagon Roper talked about after he’d spread the word about how negligent we’d been in not catching the intruder. Now it’s burnt out on the Baxter property. Billy’s missing too—and the kid never goes too far from town or home.’
‘I’ll keep two officers out looking for him. Any idea who this person might be? The one Tani said is hanging around.’
‘No.’
‘Well, you’d better stay where you are,’ Will said. ‘Because if your Rachel is involved, she’ll need looking after.’
‘I don’t believe she’s done anything wrong, Will.’
‘But Jack and his boys are saying she has?’
‘They won’t tell me a damn thing but they’ve been using me, and as it’s not quite official, from now on I’m playing it by ear and I’m playing it my way.’
‘Understood,’ Will said. ‘You need anything?’
‘I need to stay where I am. I’ve been told I’m not to question her officially and not to bring her in.’
‘But you’re going to.’
‘I am, but I’m going to make it look like it’s a personal issue between us. Not an official interrogation or even police business.’ As he spoke he realised that it was the truth. It was a personal issue between them. And although they didn’t have a romantic relationship, he definitely wanted one.
‘How are those builders involved?’ Will asked.
Luke had been pondering that for the last three hours. ‘Once you read the files you’ll understand what I’m going to say.’ He took a breath. ‘If those builders are out here to keep a watch on Rachel, it’ll be because they’re looking for Fletcher. And if I’m right, then you need to know that they’re dirty players.’ If they were attached to the money-laundering mob, now dealing drugs, they’d be from the core of that organisation. The hard core.
‘Luke,’ Will said. ‘This is going to get messy, mate, and we haven’t got a full force. If Lake Laura need backup for the bikies we’re down to five officers, including you. I’ve rung their OIC and she says it’s calm for now but trouble flares overnight when the booze and the drugs come out.’
‘We’ll have to manage. Take a look at those files. It’s not pleasant. If this ex-husband is around or on his way, we need to stay alert. Oh, and make a note for Davidson, would you? Mary McCovey wants three picture hooks drilled into her chimney breast.’
Will laughed. ‘Who wants to be on a city beat when all the good stuff goes on out here?’
Luke listened to Will’s laughter for a few moments and almost found a smile too. ‘You’d best check on Amelia Arnold,’ he said. ‘I gave Mary a flippant remark about a hostage situation. She’s probably around the Arnold house now, informing Amelia her car-jack is needed. And apparently she’s got OC spray. Take that off her.’
‘I’m onto it,’ Will said, still laughing.
Luke ended the call and sighed hard. The whole situation was like putting two and four together and coming up with nine. But Rachel was innocent and once he figured out the facts, he’d prove it. He’d protect Rachel, he could do that, but she had to know she could trust him; understand that he’d do anything for her, anything to shield her from further harm. And he had to make sure she stayed put.
A muscle in his cheek twitched and emotion choked him for a second.
He sent her another text.
You’re in lockdown. If you move from that house, I’ll arrest you.
Seventeen
Rachel stared at her suitcase, packed and zipped, ready to go. Arrest her?
She bit her lip hard but it didn’t stop the tears welling. She’d done so well to keep them suppressed until now. Brushing them off her cheeks, she unzipped the suitcase and took everything out. She wasn’t going anywhere. She doubted she’d have need of her suitcase if he flung her in a cell anyway.
But she’d take her shoulder bag. She packed toiletries and a change of clothing into it, then halted when her mobile rang. Was it Luke? Or maybe it was the detective from DVIT she’d spoken to earlier.
She ran to the kitchen and picked it up. Jax’s name appeared on the screen. She took a breath, pausing again to consider her thoughts about whether or not to answer it—but damn it, why shouldn’t she? She wanted to hear a friendly voice in her ear.
‘Hello, Jax. How are you?’
‘You can tell me to mind my business and not interfere in yours,’ Jax began, ‘but I’m calling to check if you’re okay because—well, I got word that something had happened between you and Luke at the barbecue.’
Rachel closed her eyes. She hadn’t expected this so soon. She was supposed to be gone before the gossip started.
‘Hey, look,’ Jax continued. ‘I don’t need to know what happened. I’m just checking that he hasn’t upset you.’
She smiled at the inference. The disparity between what Jax meant and what Luke had done would almost have been amusing—if it wasn’t so hard to bear.
‘Not that I can believe he’d do that,’ Jax went on. ‘But you never know when love is concerned.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Rachel said. ‘Love isn’t involved.’
‘Want me to come over with a bottle of wine and we’ll discuss it?’
Didn’t that sound so good. ‘No, honestly, I’m fine.’ Or at least better, now she had a friendly voice in her ear. ‘We did argue,’ she admitted. ‘And it’s my fault. Not his.’
‘Always two sides.’
‘Yes, but …’ She deliberated how much to say. But this was Jax, a woman who she’d wanted as her friend. ‘I’m afraid I’m one of those women who have a past.’
‘Now I really want to come over with the wine.’
Rachel’s mouth curved in a smile. ‘No—I’m fine. I’m sure we’ll get the argument sorted.’ Once h
e arrested her she wouldn’t have a chance to sort it herself, as she’d hoped to. That would be it. Over and done with. Rachel would be in the hands of the police again. And it would be the end of any chance of a relationship with Senior Sergeant Weston.
‘Talk to him, Rachel,’ Jax said. ‘Please. For you and for him.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘So it’s a problem you’ve had with another man.’
‘How can you know that?’
‘I’ve been there. Look, I’m not about to go into details about me any more than you want to go into details about you, but I can help if you want someone to listen. I didn’t have anyone, and I’d hate to think you’re in that same position.’
Tears stung Rachel’s eyes again and she had to swallow hard. ‘It wasn’t just a love affair gone wrong.’
‘I know. I can tell. Neither was mine. In fact, it couldn’t have been further from love if you’d set it on fire.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Jax.’
‘Don’t be. It wasn’t anything you did. But what are you going to do about Luke? Please don’t tell me he found out and got all testosterone about it. Did he?’
‘No. It’s not that.’
‘He’s a big tough cop and all that, and his bark can be as loud as his laugh, but he needs to be that way with what he handles.’
‘I might be in trouble, Jax.’
Jax inhaled audibly. ‘Okay. In which case, you don’t need that wine. Does Luke know?’
‘Yes. Some of it.’
‘So he’s getting all antsy because he’s trying to protect you.’
‘Maybe.’ He’d said he wanted to be the man in her life, but it had been said in such a frustrated tone, and she’d been so shocked—at his words more than the tone—she hadn’t been able to answer. Then he’d cut her off.
‘Why don’t you have another think about whatever happened between you at the barbecue, then see it from his point of view,’ Jax said. ‘And I’m not taking sides,’ she added quickly. ‘It’s just that you’re a woman. You’re more likely to see sense first.’
Rachel couldn’t hold onto her laugh, although it surprised her. She hadn’t laughed in years.
‘Hey,’ Jax said softly. ‘Are you going to be okay?’
Rachel pushed her hair back from her face, then dropped her hand. There was no need to lie or cover up. Not with this lady. ‘I was hurt, Jax. I was conned and abused a number of years ago, and I was attacked quite badly two years ago. Same man.’
‘I was hurt too, Rachel. Although it didn’t take longer than fifteen minutes—so I want you to know you can call me anytime. I don’t care. Middle of the night if you like. But I also ask you to think about talking to Luke.’
Another pause and Rachel could practically hear Jax’s sensible brain scrambling as she considered all her options for further persuasion. This was the first time outside counselling that Rachel had ever referred to having been hit. No friends. No friendly work colleagues. Too much shame, and too late now to go back and change that.
‘Is the man after you?’ Jax asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Does Luke know?’
‘Oh, God, Jax—he’s not saying. I don’t think he knows.’
‘Think? Don’t you want to find out for sure?’
‘Yes. Yes—I do. But I’m frightened the man might hurt somebody else, and not me.’
‘That type of bastard, eh?’
Rachel closed her eyes as a pain hit her in the chest. That’s what she’d called Luke: a bastard—and he wasn’t. Peter was a bastard. Whoever had hurt Jax was a bastard. But not Luke. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘About Luke, I mean. He needs to know more, and so do I.’
‘Good for you. He’ll help you. Whatever it is. And he’ll do it because he cares for you. Oh,’ she added, ‘his being a top cop with a gun on his hip doesn’t hurt, either.’ She laughed, and Rachel smiled, because Jax was right. Luke was a strong man and one who could be trusted to sort the bad from the good.
‘Thank you, Jax. I’ve never had a friend before—you’re the first.’
‘Don’t tell me that—now I’m planning our tenth friendship anniversary.’
‘Jax—just one thing. I can’t explain why at the moment, but please don’t let Rosita go out with that man tomorrow. That Peter Morrison—don’t let her go.’
‘Do you know him?’
‘No. And it’s just a feeling. I’m probably paranoid at the moment, but I sense something’s not right.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jax said. ‘I’ve already talked her out of the date. Most times when a guy says he’s taking you away from all this, it’s only so he can take you some other place that’s going to end up worse.’
‘I couldn’t agree more.’ That’s what Peter had done to Rosalind. Led her, blindfolded by innocence, to the altar and nearly a decade of fear and panic.
‘Turns out he wasn’t the only guy after her, actually,’ Jax said. ‘He won, she told me, due to how handsome he is, along with his power of friendly persuasion, but it was one of the builders out at the museum who originally wanted to date her. Then this Morrison guy steps in suddenly. I’m hoping to persuade Rosie to stay here and not move on again. The girl needs roots.’
‘It’s a wonderful town. I’ve loved it here. Truly I have.’
‘Have?’ Jax asked, in a serious tone.
Rachel closed her eyes. ‘Do. Do love it here.’
‘I’m coming out to your place,’ Jax said. ‘I don’t like the sound of this.’
‘Don’t! Please, Jax. There’s no need—I think Luke’s outside. I think he’s watching the house.’ And Luke would turn Jax away. He wouldn’t let anyone talk to her unless it was him or a detective dealing with whatever was going on. ‘I’m being looked after.’
‘All right.’ There was reluctance in Jax’s response. ‘But call me if you need me. Or if you’re worried. I don’t like to think of you out there alone.’
‘I’m not alone. Luke’s with me.’ And suddenly, it was good to know he was.
When she’d promised to be careful and to call if she needed anything, she ended the conversation and clutched her phone. There was cause for worry but everything going through her head now was supposition and guess work, and perhaps a little scary fiction.
Her eyes automatically sought the windows at the front of the house and her body tensed, her senses honed by years of watching and waiting for Peter to return home, frightened to do anything he might not like if he came through the door and caught her reading when she should be doing domestic and utterly stupid housewife things like washing dusters, or waiting on the man of the house to come home and treat her like the underdog he believed she was, expecting her to wait on him hand and foot.
The bare land at the front of the house stretched for about fifty metres before it reached the road. No bushes above knee height. No palm or gum trees. But the area surrounding the road was thick with spinifex grass and mulga. Had he been here?
She shivered in the warm air.
It had been her Swiss Army knife that Peter had used on the sergeant. Did they think she’d done it?
She sent Luke a text. I didn’t hurt that sergeant.
I know. But Rachel, you’re scared and I’m scared for you. Is it your ex-husband?
She was hurt and still confused. But she felt a need to unburden herself. She hadn’t done that with anybody—certainly not with police and not even with the counsellors—except Jax just now. She’d been without a friend for so long she didn’t know what having one would feel like but beneath the attraction she held for Luke, there was also a thread of friendship between them. Maybe real, romantic relationships always had friendship sitting patiently behind desire. She didn’t know, but she wanted to test it.
I saw him. Three months ago.
Was it arranged?
They did think she was working with him. It stung; not only her senses but her heart.
He grabbed me. I didn’t know he wa
s following me.
And what happened? Did he hurt you?
He was injured. He took money. He wanted me to hide him. She swallowed hard.
It’s okay, Rachel. Tell me more.
He took my Swiss Army knife. Said he’d find me. I didn’t hurt that sergeant.
I know you didn’t.
But she had hurt him, by running away and not giving Peter’s threat another thought.
I stabbed Peter with the penknife before he took it off me. I had to—he’d have hurt me if I hadn’t stopped him. Is that why the police are looking for me?
She waited for the answer, holding her breath through the pause.
Next time, you run. YOU RUN. Do you hear me?
She sensed the anger in the tone—aimed at Peter and at what he’d done to Rachel, but did this anger also mean Luke really believed there’d be a next time?
Rachel? Do you think he’s looking for you?
She stared at the screen before answering. Yes.
You’re not alone. I’m here.
She put the phone down with a trembling hand. It was time to start behaving the way she wanted Rachel Meade to behave. She was Rachel. In heart and soul. Her behaviour earlier—leaving Luke the way she had—was not the attitude she wanted as part of her personality. In order to move on, she had to learn to accept that she had to deal with whatever was thrown in her path. Luke had put himself in her path and she’d shunned him.
The other day she’d recognised that he’d taken a piece of her heart. Today, he’d torn it to shreds. And yet hadn’t she already thought that her heart had been ripped apart before now?
In the weeks she’d been living at Mt Maria her work and the community had given her a freer spirit. But this evening—now—as everything raged inside her and she’d practically worn the tiles down with her pacing, she realised it was Luke Weston who’d opened the windows and let the breeze fly through her soul.
* * *
Luke got out of the troop wagon at three am, flexed his shoulders and stretched. His back muscles pinched even though he’d spent many nights in the swivel chair at the station, or in the back of a van or crouched in a run-down building.
He ran both hands over his head, pressing his fingers into his scalp.