Blazing Fear

by Leisl Leighton

  He tried to call Mac again and got nothing but a message.

  There was no reason Mac wouldn’t pick up. He always picked up. It was mandatory when you ran a business like CoalCliff to be in contact. Mac wouldn’t ignore a call from him.

  Prita. Where’s Mac? Why isn’t he answering his phone?

  Phone died.

  Can you get him to call me on your phone? I need to speak to him.

  Can’t. He left.

  What? Mac wouldn’t do that. Please call me now so I know you’re okay.

  Cant talk now.

  Carter is asking for you. He knew it was a low thing to do, using her son to make her call, but he was worried. More than worried. He wanted to pace as he waited for her to return his text, but he’d promised her to rest his knee. Bloody idiot knee. He couldn’t even remember re-injuring it yesterday. He jangled the phone in his hands, staring at the screen, willing for her to answer. Answer. Bloody answer.

  Tell him wait.

  What the hell? That wasn’t Prita. Something was definitely wrong. She’d never ignore her son if he needed her. And Mac wouldn’t let his phone die let alone leave when she’d been threatened like she had.

  Fuck. How could he have let her go off without him?

  Because he was lying in bed, weak from what he’d done to himself yesterday in an effort to prove her wrong, too dazed with love and desire to think to question her.

  He loved her. He loved her so much. And now, she was in danger.

  This couldn’t be happening. The icy cold of fear was rising up, threatening to take over him, to choke him, to stop him. No. No. He wouldn’t let this happen. He had to save her as he’d been unable to save Anna. Screw his promise. Prita was in danger. He had to find her.

  He grabbed a t-shirt, pulled his boots on, and limped out of his room, phone to his ear as he called the police. His call was answered on the third ring and he barked out what was going on before the constable had a chance to even say his greeting.

  ‘Where was she last supposed to be?’ Constable Bruce asked.

  ‘She was meeting the insurance agent at her house over two hours ago and should have been back by now.’

  ‘Her insurance agent? But that’s not possible. I just got off the phone with her insurance company and they’re not sending anyone up until mid-week.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘I’m going to her house right now.’

  ‘I’ll meet you there.’ He limped into the lounge room, but there was no-one there. In fact, there was no sound of anyone in the house at all. Everyone was out taking care of their daily tasks.

  He went to the door and opened it.

  His ute wasn’t there. Shit. Fuck. Not that he could really drive it with his knee the way it was. He needed to find someone to drive him. He had to get to Prita.

  He began to limp-run towards the stables. Someone would be there. Reid might be back or John would be there or Lisa or one of the other workers prepping the cafe for the ride tomorrow. Pain spiked in his knee with every step, but he didn’t care. Except, his breath was tight in his chest and he had to slow down then stop as his head began to spin. Damn it. Why did he have to be like this now? Something had happened to Prita and he was next to useless.

  ‘Flynn. What are you doing out of bed?’

  He lifted his head and saw his mum and Lisa coming towards him, Charlie and Farrah bouncing around her. ‘It’s Prita. And Mac. Neither are answering their phones.’

  ‘What?’ Barb’s face blanched. His mother knew that wasn’t like Mac as well. Or Prita. She would never not answer her phone. She was the area’s doctor for Christ’s sake. He should have thought of that. Should have known.

  The dogs were jumping around him, trying to get his attention, but he had no time for pats or ball games now.

  The bastard had Prita. He had her and there was nothing he could do.

  ‘Flynn, stop it. Charlie, Farrah, sit.’ The dogs sat obediently as Barb took him by the shoulders, shaking him a little, making him come back from the panic he was letting get to him. ‘Have you called the police?’

  ‘Yes. Of course. They’re on their way to her house.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I have to get there.’

  Barb shook him again. ‘What good will you be to her hopping around like this? Let’s just wait to hear back from the police, shall we?’

  He stared at his mother, wondering what the hell had gotten into her that she could be so calm. ‘There’s someone after Prita and now she’s not answering her phone and neither is Mac. Aren’t you worried?’

  ‘Of course I am. I’m terrified.’

  He blinked at her, noting her tight lips, the terror in her eyes. He pulled her into a hug. ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re right. We need to help find them.’

  ‘We can organise a search party. Do a kind of bush telegraph to see if anyone has seen her.’

  He’d forgotten Lisa was there until she spoke. He let go of his mother and said, ‘Great idea.’

  Barb nodded. ‘I’ll get the girls onto calling the bakery and the other businesses at Wilson’s Bend and see if anyone saw her.’

  ‘I’ll call Chandra. She said she was going to see him after she’d caught up with the insurance agent. If she’d seen him before she disappeared, then we’ll have more of a timeline.’

  ‘Do you have the insurance agent’s number? He might be able to tell you where she headed after she left him.’

  ‘Constable Bruce told me the insurance agent isn’t coming until later in the week. It wasn’t him.’

  ‘Hell.’ Barb’s mouth pulled tight as she rung her hands in front of her.

  ‘We’ll find them, Mum.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, we will.’ She nodded again then said to Lisa, ‘Let’s get making those calls.’

  ‘Flynn, where are you going?’

  ‘I’m going to the stables. I need to go to Wilson’s Bend to start looking around and help the police canvas the shops owners and neighbours, see if they saw anything. When Reid and Diarmuid get back, I’ll need them to come to Wilson’s Bend to help.’

  ‘Nat will want to do something.’

  ‘I’ll ask her to take care of the kids.’

  ‘Make sure she keeps this from Carter.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And, Flynn? Call Cherry. She’s down at the cottage and won’t know what’s going on. It’s possible that Prita got called out to see to a patient and didn’t get a chance to call you?’ She sounded so hopeful, but he knew the hope was useless. Prita would have called him if she wasn’t going to be back when she said. Even so, he nodded. ‘I’ll call her,’ then turned to go.

  He stopped at the soft touch of his mother’s hand on his arm.

  ‘Don’t push yourself. I know you love her but it’s not going to do anyone any good if you pass out.’

  ‘I can’t let anything happen to her, Mum. Or Mac.’

  ‘I know. We’ll find them.’ She kissed his cheek and then left with Lisa, the dogs more sedately following them, obviously picking up on the worry and fear.

  He turned and limp-ran towards the stables, dialling Cherry as he went, hoping, even though he knew it was futile, that Cherry might know where she was.

  Please, please let it be that simple. But Cherry hadn’t heard from her. Hope dying, he grabbed John from the stables to play driver and was in a ute moments later, speeding to Wilson’s Bend and the last place Prita had been.

  He had to find her. He simply had to.

  ***

  Prita’s head pounded. And something was pushing into her chest. She raised her head, wincing as pain lanced out from the back of her head in sickening waves. What had happened? She’d gone to meet with the insurance guy. He hadn’t been there when she and Mac had arrived, so she went to inspect the damage herself. She’d wandered around the back and in through the frame that had housed the back door. Mac had been in front of her as she walked through the ruin that was the
back of the house. They were just near the stairs—which were surprisingly intact—when something fell from above them and hit Mac on the head. He went down. She’d rushed towards him when something hit her on the back of the head and she’d passed out.

  Had something fallen from the roof?

  Maybe. But then why wasn’t she lying on the floor.

  She seemed to be sitting upright.

  And what was constricting her chest and arms? She opened her eyes and looked down, colours shifting and moving and slowly turning into shapes. There was a rope around her. Why was there a rope around her? It seemed to be holding her to a chair. She tried to move but it was so tight. In fact, her arms below the rope were numb.

  What the hell was going on? If a neighbour had found her after she’d been knocked out by a falling brick or piece of timber, they wouldn’t tie her to a chair.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake. About bloody time.’

  She looked up, gaze slowly focusing on a shadow in the corner of the room. It moved towards her. ‘Max. What’s going on? Where’s Mac?’

  ‘Mac? I left the old bastard where he dropped. I didn’t need him. Only you.’

  ‘But something hit him. He was injured. He needs help.’

  He laughed, the sound like the scraping hiss of a possum in mating season. ‘You are such a stupid bitch.’

  That voice. It sounded so familiar. Not like when he’d come to see her as a patient, or flirted with her shyly, or when he’d helped her with Flynn after the explosion. ‘You.’ His was the voice on the phone, the one that had been calling and threatening. ‘Why?’ What had she done to him to make him hate her so much that he’d threaten her and burn down her house and set fires in places she’d recently been?

  ‘Why?’ He laughed again, the sound slipping and sliding madly up and down, making her shudder. ‘You know why. You stole him from me. Stole what came to him that should be mine.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  He lunged at her, his expression enraged as it came to within an inch of hers, unrecognisable as the shy man she’d treated and who had flirted badly with her. He was yelling something at her, but she didn’t hear it, her gaze fixed on his eyes. One blue. One brown. Just like Carter. ‘Your eyes.’

  He jerked back a little, his lip curling into a sneer. ‘Yes. Quite something, aren’t they?’

  ‘But, they weren’t like that before.’

  ‘Of course not. I wore contacts. Couldn’t have you guessing who I might be before it was time.’

  Realisation hit her with a slap. ‘You’re the man pretending to be Carter’s dad?’

  ‘It’s not pretend.’ He jerked his finger towards his eyes. ‘This is proof. He’s mine. And what’s his should be mine. Not yours. Never yours, you bitch.’

  ‘You can’t have him. Sam didn’t name you as the father. No judge will ever let you have him. Not over me.’

  ‘Judges are fucking idiots. They all deserve to burn too. I mean, who would choose you over me?’

  ‘Everyone.’

  His face screwed up as she said that. ‘I’m doing the world a favour getting rid of a whore like you. Married to a gay man and screwing someone else. You’re no fit mother for my son. I’m doing him a favour taking him from you. You’ve turned him into a bloody sissy. I’ve seen how he is. It’s pathetic. I’m going to turn him into a real man when I get my hands on him and the money.’

  Fear was inside her but it was nothing to the rage that fired through every part of her as he spoke of Carter that way. ‘You stay away from Carter. Don’t you touch him. Don’t you touch him.’

  He laughed again. ‘You’ve got fire in you. That’s one thing you share with Sam. I thought maybe you and I could have had something together like Sam and I had, but just like her, you pushed me away.’

  ‘You’re insane.’

  He laughed. ‘That’s what Sammy used to say.’ He sobered as fast as he’d laughed, his eyes focusing on something she couldn’t see in the distance. ‘She should never have run from me. It’s her fault that I did what I did.’

  She had no idea what he was talking about but knew she needed to keep him talking. Flynn would have to have noticed she was missing. How long had she been gone? Surely he’d go to the house when she didn’t answer her phone. He’d find Mac and they’d come looking for her. Except, she could be anywhere.

  She looked around her, fear enabling her to focus past the pain in her head. She hadn’t noticed her surroundings before, all her attention on the madman before her, but now she did, she recognised the kitchen of the cottage. Oh god. Cherry. Cherry had been down here doing some work, reorganising the schedule so she could stay with Flynn and start seeing patients tomorrow. ‘What have you done with Cherry?’

  ‘The redhead?’

  Prita nodded, afraid, so afraid of what he might have done to her friend.

  ‘She tried to run.’ He shook his head. ‘Not smart. Not smart at all. I’m way too fast.’ He spun the knife and then flung it across the room. It landed with a slicing thunk, blade in, vibrating in the kitchen door. ‘She’s not going to be running anywhere any time soon.’ He laughed.

  She bit back a sob. ‘If you’ve killed her, you’re going to pay.’

  ‘Who will know? She’ll be found here with you, burned to a crisp. Everyone will just think she died in the fire as well. Nobody will know anything about me. I’ve been too careful.’

  ‘The police know about the phone calls. They know someone set the fire at my house. Flynn figured out all the fires in the area lately are connected to me, that someone is after me. They’ll know. They’ll figure it out.’

  ‘They’ll have no connection to me. I’ve made you all look the wrong way. First to the idiot men who live around here. They made themselves look so guilty, I hardly had any work to do for you to blame them. Then your gay husband turns up and argues with the bloke you’re fucking and now he looks like he’s guilty as well. There are so many guilty people around here, nobody is going to be looking at me. Especially when I was nowhere near here when any of this went down.’

  ‘People have seen you, talked to you. They’ll know. Flynn saw you.’

  ‘He won’t remember me. Nobody ever remembers me. I make sure of it. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo, you know.’

  He laughed again and the sound slid up and down her spine like a knife edged in razors. ‘My papa knows about you,’ she said, ashamed at the desperation edging her voice.

  ‘Diarmuid Brennan.’ The name was a sneer. ‘I used to like his music but now I know him for the stuck-up fucker he is. Trying to keep me from what is mine by throwing lawyers at me. Tangling me up in paperwork. Did you think that would stop me from getting what should have been mine?’

  ‘The money? If the money is what you want, you can have it. I’ll sign it all over to you.’

  He picked up another knife and waggled it at her. ‘No, no, no. I know that’s not true. Do I look stupid, you sneaky bitch? Do I look like Mr Gullible? Do I look like I can be tricked?’ He jabbed the knife at her, the tip of it cutting into her arm, making her flinch even though she couldn’t truly feel it, the limb so numb from the tightness of the rope. He didn’t even seem to notice he’d cut her as he rambled on. ‘You’re a sneaky bitch, Sam, running off and having my son and not telling me anything about it. If I’d known, I would have done things different. It didn’t have to be this way.’ He looked down at her. ‘It’s all your fault.’

  She sucked in a breath. Had he killed Sam too? She realised she’d asked the question as the words rang between them.

  He stared at her for a moment, blinking, eyes focusing on her, seeing her again. ‘I didn’t kill Sam. I had nothing to do with that. I was sad when I heard she’d died. If only the old bat had told me.’

  ‘Told you she died?’

  ‘That Sam had had a baby. That she was dead. That she’d left her money to Sam’s baby because she felt bad. I didn’t know any of it until the Will was read.’ He jabbed the knife out a
gain, slicing her on the shoulder. She hissed in pain, feeling that cut, the trickle of blood as it ran down her arm, soaking into the rope.

  ‘Do you know how it feels to realise what you need has just fallen through your fingers because everyone around you is a liar?’

  She nodded, trying to make him feel like she empathised with him, that she understood, to keep him talking.

  ‘I wouldn’t have killed the old bat if I’d known she’d leave it all to Sam and the kid. Not until I’d made her change her Will.’ He snorted, as if it was the funniest thing ever.

  ‘You killed Sam’s aunt?’

  He looked at her, head tipped on the side as if what she’d said was the most curious thing. ‘Of course I did. She had what I wanted.’ His mouth twisted into an obscene parody of a smile. ‘She’d hoarded so much crap—her place went up so quickly, I almost didn’t get out in time.’

  She stared at him, knowing she was going to die. He’d killed Sam’s aunt. Killed Cherry. Possibly Mac. And now he was going to kill her. She was going to die and she’d never told Flynn that she loved him. She’d said it when she hadn’t realised he’d been listening, but she’d never just said it to him. Never shared with him what that meant. Never see Carter grow into the man he was going to be.

  Carter.

  This arsehole was after Carter and the money that had come to him. She didn’t even know how much money it was. Hadn’t cared. She hadn’t wanted to talk to her papa about that side of things, only the fact someone was trying to take Carter from her. If he’d been a good man, she might have almost been okay with it.

  Who was she kidding? It would have killed her. Carter had become everything to her. Had shown her how important family and love truly was. Had opened her up to a whole world of possibilities and change that she’d never imagined for herself, let alone embracing it and loving each crazy, unknown step forward. She was going to die and he was going to be within this man’s grasp.

  No.

  No. She would never let that happen. Never.

  She glared up at him. She had to get out of this. Only, her arms were tied to her side so tight, she couldn’t feel them. Could barely move. But she had to find a way. She had to. Flynn or someone else might never arrive. If she was going to live through this, she would have to find her own way to survive.