The Secrets that Lie Within (Taylor's Bend, #1)

by Elisabeth Rose

He led her along a paved path to the back door and in through a large enclosed verandah where a variety of coats and boots lived, along with a washing machine and laundry sink at one end. That machine was due for a workout shortly. He opened a door into another room, which was empty but led into the kitchen, a typical roomy area for this old style of country house, with a large wooden table and six chairs, planted solidly in the middle. A newspaper, a couple of books, magazines, mail, pens and pencils and a pair of scissors lay in a clutter at one end but there was still ample space to seat four or five people. It opened out through an arched double doorway to the living room. Perhaps the empty room was once a dining room.

  ‘They must have assumed the local constable would have a large family,’ she said.

  ‘He probably did. I’m glad they updated the fuel stove and the fridge.’ He pointed to a door off the living room at the rear. ‘That’s the main bedroom. It had an ensuite added at some stage.’

  ‘Handy.’

  ‘I thought you could sleep there.’

  ‘Isn’t that your room?’

  ‘No, I use a room at the front, closer to the office. It’s right across from the main bathroom.’

  Abbie frowned. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘On my word as a policeman.’

  ‘Okay. Thank you. Can I see the rest of the house? I had no idea it was so big.’

  Rupe continued on down a cool, dark corridor towards the front. ‘It’s a bit gloomy here but great in summer.’

  ‘It’s lovely. I really like the moulded cornices and those high, fancy ceilings.’

  ‘So do I. I love the way these old buildings were decorated because it looked good rather than for any practical reason. Modern buildings are incredibly dull by comparison.’

  He stopped and indicated a bedroom. ‘I thought this would be okay for Georgia. The bathroom is next to her room and my bedroom is across the corridor.’

  Abbie peeped in. The room was bigger than her spare room, sparsely furnished with a double bed, wardrobe and a chest of drawers which doubled as a dressing table with a swing mirror on the top. A blue patterned circular rug was the only covering on the polished wood floor, toning artfully with the dark blue curtains.

  ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘There’s a bathtub in this bathroom if you want one, the ensuite has a shower.’

  Abbie looked in and gasped. ‘That’s the most beautiful stained glass!’ Red, purple, green and yellow flowed together in a looping floral design.

  ‘The front door has side and top panels of stained glass too.’

  ‘I’ll definitely have a bath.’ She looked at him, smiling. ‘It’ll help relax my muscles. My shoulders are really sore.’

  ‘Right. I’ve got some stuff you can rub in for stiffness.’ He opened the medicine cabinet and took out a sports ointment. ‘While you do that, I’ll do some paperwork then make us some tea when you’re ready.’

  Abbie dropped the plug into the plughole and turned on the taps.

  ‘I put the bag Connie packed in your bedroom.’

  ‘Thank you, Rupe. For everything.’

  ***

  Rupe sat at the computer filling out his report. There’d been no results from forensics yet but neither DS McGrath, nor Rupe, had any doubt fingerprints matching those found in Abbie’s house, which were assumed to be from Kaelee and Aaron, would be found at Rita’s.

  He’d need to take Abbie and Georgia’s prints for elimination, but Rita never had visitors so new ones would be very obvious over there. And she’d never been into Abbie’s house.

  He also needed to get Stuey to send a mechanic over to see about those two disabled cars at Abbie’s. Forensics had dusted them for prints as well and also said that the rotor arm in the engines of both cars had been removed. Easy and effective but required some knowledge. Knowledge, however, was easily obtained these days. Everything from how to make a fruitcake, sand floors and grow tomatoes through to far less innocent pursuits was available at the click of a few computer keys. Luckily they’d simply tossed the missing parts into the long grass by one of the sheds to be found by one of the search team.

  Abbie had come through the ordeal remarkably well. She’d been in mild shock this morning and still hadn’t fully comprehended what had happened to her and her daughter, and how close they’d come to asphyxiation. Mike had said the fumes from the smouldering bedding and mattress along with the polish and paint on the furniture had combined in a nasty cocktail. Much longer and the result would have been quite different.

  As he’d listened to this summation he’d felt sick to the stomach, a sensation swiftly replaced by a steely determination that this pair be brought to justice. DS McGrath felt the same. ‘Nothing,’ she’d said, ‘… pisses me off more than cowardly attacks on the elderly.’

  The biggest problem would be finding that small white car. They’d had at least a four-hour start and could be anywhere by now.

  Water gurgled in the bathroom. Abbie had been in there for nearly half an hour. He smiled and went to boil the kettle. She’d be hungry. He could grill chicken for dinner and make salad. Maybe mash spuds.

  She padded through the living room on the way to her bedroom wearing the cotton robe he’d hung in the bedroom for her.

  Rupe turned from the sink where he was filling the teapot. ‘Feel better?’

  ‘Much. I’m not sure I’ve got rid of that smell. It’s in my skin. Although that liniment is pretty strong.’

  ‘It’ll go.’ Two words were all he could summon. She’d trimmed and tidied her remaining hair into a close crop. In the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the kitchen window it shimmered in a golden haze, accentuating the planes of her cheeks, making her strikingly beautiful, an angel straight out of some medieval religious painting. He swallowed the urge to stride forward and kiss her, continue where they’d been interrupted before. ‘You know, that hairstyle suits you. Very arty and punk,’ he said instead.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll get dressed.’ Her smile rivalled the sun.

  ‘Tea’s ready when you are.’

  ‘Great.’

  Minutes later she reappeared barefooted, wearing a loose-fitting pair of white cotton pants and a blue blouse a few sizes too big. Connie’s, no doubt. She was generously proportioned and a fair bit taller.

  ‘Got any biscuits?’

  ‘I do.’ He produced the plate of Shortbread Creams he had ready and she took one immediately.

  ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Very. I had some sandwiches at the hospital but we hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I’d been cooking a pot roasted chicken and they ate it.’

  Suddenly her face crumpled. Her arm relaxed and fell to her side, still holding the biscuit.

  ‘Abbie?’ Two steps and she was in his arms.

  ‘Rupe, they wanted to kill us. Nobody ever wanted to kill me before.’

  Chapter 16

  Abbie sniffled into Rupe’s chest. He was a head taller than she was and when his arms enveloped her it was like being wrapped in a blanket, protected from the outside world, a world that had turned strange and untrustworthy.

  He didn’t speak, just let her cry, and when she finally stopped he held her away gently and sat her down on one of the chairs at the table.

  ‘Have your tea,’ he said. ‘It’ll do you good.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She still had the biscuit in her hand and looked at it for a moment before taking a bite. The sweetness slid across her tongue, but when she swallowed there was a base of smokiness.

  ‘Don’t be. It’s a natural reaction.’ He slid a box of tissues across to where she sat and she took several to complete the mopping up.

  Rupe drank his tea calmly. He’d be used to people breaking apart, people who’d lost loved ones in accidents or through violence, people who’d survived the same. She and Georgia were survivors. And Georgia’s baby. She had to remember that, had to be strong.

  The phone rang in the police station. Rupe excused himself and went to answer it.


  Abbie blew her nose and ate another biscuit. A yawn caught her unawares, followed swiftly by another. She drained her tea. If she didn’t have a nap she’d fall over where she sat. Rupe’s feet clumped down the hallway. She rose to meet him, stiff muscles complaining.

  ‘That was Marlene,’ he said. ‘She’s dropping in some more clothes for you.’

  ‘I was going to have a nap. I’m nearly asleep standing up.’

  ‘Go. I’ll tell her you’re exhausted. She’ll understand.’

  ‘Shouldn’t I wait and thank her?’

  ‘No. She won’t mind. You can talk to her tomorrow. But you will have to talk to the detectives when they come round later. And you’ll need food before you go to bed properly. I’ll make dinner for us.’

  Abbie nodded. ‘Thanks.’ She stretched up and deposited a swift kiss on his cheek.

  He smiled and touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘We can do a better one than that.’

  She smiled back. ‘I know, but I can’t manage anything better right now and I want to be able to enjoy it.’

  He laughed softly and placed his hands on her shoulders to gently turn her in the direction of her room. She stopped and turned.

  ‘Rupe, would you mind rubbing some of the liniment into the back of my neck and shoulders? I can’t reach.’

  ‘Sure.’

  She eyed him, weighing up his innocent expression. ‘I mean exactly that. It’s not a … a euphemism for a massage.’

  He grinned. ‘I know. Come on. I’m an expert.’

  Rupe went to the bathroom for the liniment. Abbie sat on a kitchen chair. Lying on her bed would be tempting fate and even though she was fairly sure she could trust Rupe not to take advantage of the situation, she wasn’t so sure about herself.

  When he returned, she undid the top buttons and slipped the blouse down to her upper arms.

  He stood behind her and began rubbing the cream into her muscles with firm fingers. She winced as he landed on the most abused areas but the tightness eased gradually as he worked his way across her shoulders and neck.

  ‘You are good at this,’ she murmured, eyes closed.

  ‘Told you.’

  Abbie breathed deeply, revelling in the nearness of him. She’d missed the touch of a man’s hands on her skin, the masculine smell, the potency of contact. She wanted more, she wanted him …

  ‘Rupe …’ A whisper of sound. Had he heard?

  The hands stopped moving. He pulled her blouse back over her exposed skin.

  ‘That should do,’ he said briskly.

  ***

  Abbie’s eyes popped open and she sat up staring into the semi-darkness, heart thudding. Where was she? What was that noise? The door wasn’t in the right place. Neither was the window.

  Knocking on the door. ‘Abbie? Are you awake?’

  Rupe. She collapsed back onto the pillow and rubbed her face with both hands. Thank god. Reality flooded in.

  ‘Yes,’ she called.

  The door opened a crack and his head appeared. ‘The detectives are here. Can you come and talk to them, please?’

  ‘Of course. What time is it?’

  ‘Six forty-five. You’ve slept about an hour and a half.’ He retreated, closing the door behind him.

  She pushed the cover back and swung her legs to the floor. Not enough sleep, her body felt like a bag of bricks. She hadn’t gone properly to bed, just removed the pants and blouse, which she now put back on. One thing about a shaved head, she had no need of a hairbrush. Or shampoo. Or a hairdryer.

  The two detectives were sitting at the big table in the kitchen. They both rose when she walked in, both sets of eyes flicking to her baldness and away. The woman stepped forward and introduced herself and her partner, hand outstretched. His name went straight into the cottonwool sleep fuzz in Abbie’s head and stayed there, buried.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to bother you when you’d much rather be recovering, but it’s important we learn as much as we can about what happened.’

  ‘Of course, I understand,’ Abbie said.

  DS McGrath indicated Abbie should sit down then began taking her slowly through the events of the last weeks. When Abbie had finished by detailing Rupe’s rescue, the DS said, ‘It looks like they were here all along, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Rupe. ‘Remember I told you I didn’t like coincidences, Abbie?’

  ‘You mean they were responsible for everything that happened? Even putting away the shopping?’ Recounting the events in such a steady chronological way had focused her mind, forming links she’d missed completely.

  ‘You saw the car go in and come out again. They had time to do it then.’

  ‘What about the silver car?’ They’d told her they didn’t see her groceries or the silver car, but they made a habit of lying so that meant nothing.

  ‘I think it was the art man.’

  ‘But where was he?’ asked Abbie.

  ‘Looking for you in the backyard, or even up the path to the ridge?’

  The DS looked at her partner. ‘We need to find him. He may be able to tell us something.’

  ‘Contact Abbie’s art dealer and ask her about the woman she spoke to,’ said Rupe.

  ‘Have you found them?’ asked Abbie.

  ‘Not yet but we will.’

  ‘What if they’re still in the area? In the park up the back somewhere? Waiting to have another try.’

  ‘We’re searching the local area. And we have alerts out for the car, both police and on radio and TV. I doubt they’d stick around, too dangerous. They’ll need to buy petrol at some stage and when they do they’ll be visible.’

  The two detectives stood up. ‘Thank you, Abbie. If you think of anything let us know. We’ll keep in touch and of course, you have Rupe here.’

  ‘When can I go home?’

  ‘As far as the police are concerned we’ve collected what we need, but the fire department will have to give you the all clear that the building is safe. I’m very sorry,’

  ‘What about Rita? Is she all right?’

  ‘She’s in a serious condition but she’s conscious and they’re hopeful she’ll pull through. The doctor said the head injury may have caused permanent brain damage but they won’t know for a while. We haven’t been able to talk to her.’

  ‘Oh dear, that’s terrible.’ Tears sprang to Abbie’s eyes. Cantankerous and sharp-tongued she may have been, but she was elderly and alone and Abbie sometimes suspected she came over with one of her grumbles for a bit of company.

  ‘It is. They hit her with a poker from the fireplace. We found it thrown into the bush near the house.’

  ‘And you think it was Kaelee and Aaron?’

  ‘I do and I’m certain the forensic evidence will prove it. They weren’t smart about leaving fingerprints.’

  ‘I don’t think they were very organised. At least I don’t think they had a plan, just an intense kind of desire for revenge. When they first turned up, Aaron was the leader and Kaelee was quite subservient but it swung right round the other way by the end.’

  ‘She might have been acting submissive to get him to come along. She sounds very cunning and manipulative,’ said DS McGrath. ‘I think she had a plan.’

  ‘She’s certainly very ruthless,’ said Abbie bitterly. ‘Look at what she says she did to her father and my ex. She hates Georgia for what she says happened at school. But I don’t know if it’s true or not.’

  ‘The bullying story? Georgia told us about that.’ At Abbie’s surprised look she said, ‘We talked to her this afternoon.’

  A previously unthought-of alarm barrelled through Abbie. ‘Will Georgia be safe?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rupe firmly.

  ‘Kaelee might try to get in to see her.’ The horror of that scenario snowballed in her mind. ‘Do the nurses know not to let anyone see her? What if Kaelee turns up and says she’s a friend? She’s a good liar, she looks innocent. They’d let her in and she could do anything …’
r />   ‘Abbie, sshh, sshh.’ Rupe put his hands on her upper arms. ‘It won’t happen. How would she know Georgia was in hospital?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be hard to figure that out.’ She glared at DS McGrath. ‘Do the nurses know?’

  Rupe stepped back.

  ‘We didn’t think a police guard was necessary …’ She smiled as though Abbie was the lunatic, not Kaelee.

  ‘It is necessary.’

  ‘We’ll let the hospital know she’s to have no visitors.’

  ‘Lock her room.’

  Another faintly condescending smile then she nodded to the offsider who pulled out his phone.

  ‘Thank you, Abbie. I know it’s difficult but try not to worry. Senior Constable, could I have a word, please?’

  Rupe and the offsider followed her out of the room.

  When the police station section door had closed and their voices had faded, Abbie called the hospital herself and asked to speak to Georgia.

  ‘I’ll put you through to her ward,’ said the receptionist.

  ‘Doesn’t she have her own room?’ Abbie asked but she was already on hold. Surely the police would have insisted on that? She hadn’t thought of it earlier in the rush of being rescued. At that stage, in her mind Kaelee and Aaron were far away, running to escape, and she’d never see them again.

  A nurse’s voice said, ‘Women’s surgical, hello.’

  ‘Hello. Could I speak to Georgia, please? I’m her mother.’

  ‘I’m sorry, the doctor is with her at the moment. I’ll tell her you rang and she can call you back.’

  ‘Who is the doctor? Is it someone you know?’

  ‘It’s Doctor Singh.’ Her tone changed subtly. She was offended. ‘He’s been here four years and he’s very good, very experienced. Don’t worry, she’s in good hands.’

  Doctor Singh. Abbie exhaled in relief. No-one would mistake Kaelee for a man and Aaron couldn’t pass himself off as experienced Doctor Singh who presumably was of Indian background and who’d been there four years.

  ‘Will she be released tomorrow?’

  ‘Doctor will see her again in the morning but it’s possible.’

  ‘Thank you very much. Have the police told you Georgia is to have no visitors? It’s … it’s for her safety.’