by Sarah Barrie
‘Sure. Thanks.’ He moved back around the other side of the bar and she slid onto a stool. ‘How’s Dex?’
‘Having a ball. He and his mates are at Ningaloo Reef. Apparently the surfing there is brilliant.’
‘I hope he’s safe,’ Mia said.
‘You start saying that, he’ll start calling you mum again.’
She grinned widely. ‘Last time he tried it, it was so I’d do his washing for him.’
‘As if you don’t have enough to do—and I can just imagine what state everything he brings back will be in. Don’t go near his suitcase, whatever you do. I’ll tell him to unpack it at my place.’
‘No argument.’
‘You back to work?’
‘A couple days shooting in Darling Harbour.’
‘How’s everyone in Hunters Ridge? I was meaning to ask about Ebony. What that poor girl went through … must be taking a toll?’
‘Ebs is doing okay. At least, she says she is. She’s planning this enormous fairytale wedding so that and work are keeping her busy. And happy. Ally said to say hi, too. She’ll bring Chloe and visit next time she comes down.’
Bear looked past her and lifted his jaw towards the tiny stage at the back of the bar. ‘Miguel’s putting on a show tonight.’
‘He’s a bit early.’ Mia turned with a concerned frown. Her friend was dressed in an outrageous sparkling blue Peter Allen outfit complete with maracas. When ‘I Go to Rio’ started up, he began dancing. ‘I wonder what’s happened?’
‘You mean because last time he took to the stage as Peter Allen he’d lost his cat and the time before that he’d had his heart broken?’
‘Yeah. Elton John and Freddie Mercury are fine, but when it’s Peter Allen we’re in trouble.’
‘And you’re right, he is starting early,’ Bear said as he put a drink in front of her. ‘Could be a long night.’
‘Oh … I hope everything’s okay with him and Andre.’
She watched Miguel shake his way through the upbeat song, before he changed the tone with ‘Tenterfield Saddler’. When he dabbed at one eye, Mia sighed.
‘Yep, something’s definitely up.’
An attractive man in a shirt that was slightly too orange sidled up beside her. ‘Hi. This is probably a silly question because, well, look at you, but are you single by any chance?’
As far as lines went, that wasn’t the worst she’d heard. So she amped up the smile, watching the guy go from nervous to dazed. ‘I am. You alone, handsome?’
‘I, um … yes.’
The smile became a chuckle. He was sweet. ‘Want to dance?’
‘Yeah, can I buy you a drink first?’
‘You won’t need to drink to have fun. Let’s go.’
She enjoyed dancing, and ‘Just call me Brad’ was a great partner, but when after a few songs she noticed Miguel heading for the bar, Mia untangled herself and moved across the room.
‘Can’t beat ’em off with a stick can you?’ Miguel said with a wink. ‘If only I was straight.’ But something in his tone and expression had more alarm bells ringing and she ducked her head to catch his eye when he looked at the counter.
‘What’s happened?’
His posture slumped. ‘Honey, how do you know? I thought I was being cheerful.’
She patted his hand. ‘You’re impersonating Peter Allen. You only do that when you’re upset.’
Bear set a drink in front of him and Miguel threw it back, wriggled his fingers at the glass. Bear smirked and refilled it.
‘It was horrible,’ he admitted. ‘Andre and I had a terrible argument over Winston.’
It took her a minute, then it clicked. ‘Your boat?’
‘It’s just that Andre wants to upsize so we can entertain, but I just love little Winston. We can’t keep two boats because the mooring fees are horrific. I’m not sure what we’re going to do. Anyway, Andre said I was being stupidly sentimental and selfish, and I’m terrified that when I go home tonight we’re going to get into another blazing row.’ He swallowed the next drink, looking as miserable as Mia had ever seen him.
‘Why don’t you stay at my place tonight, give this a chance to blow over?’
‘Really?’
The sudden feeling of being watched bothered her and she scanned the crowd, but when she saw nothing unusual, she smiled at Miguel. ‘Sure. Dex isn’t there, so you can have his room.’
He gave her hand a grateful squeeze. ‘That might be a good idea. Thanks, Mia.’
‘No problem.’ She looked around again. She’d swear something wasn’t right …
A hand landed heavily on her shoulder, and almost had her falling from her stool in her attempt to escape it.
‘You up for some more dancing?’
‘Oh, Brad. Sorry, I’m going to watch the show for a while.’
‘Then I’ll buy you a drink.’
Damn it, he was going to be one of those you-danced-with-me-so-we’re-heading-to-my-place guys. She held up her drink. ‘I’m fine, thanks. Besides, I prefer to buy my own drinks.’
‘Why?’
‘To prevent misunderstandings, mostly. Thanks for the dance. It was fun.’
‘Misunderstandings?’ He stepped in, a crease forming on his brow. ‘I know how you danced with me out there. I don’t think I was misunderstanding.’
Yep, one of those guys. ‘What you might have been doing was dreaming.’
Miguel casually turned a maraca around in his hand. ‘You know, there are a number of uses for this thing. Music, yes. Or a bat. Or, in the case of an arsehole, a plug.’ He eyed Brad.
‘Fine.’
When Brad disappeared back into the crowd, Mia frowned at her friend. ‘That wasn’t necessary.’
‘Not yet, Pandora, but it was heading there. I just saved some time.’
Giving up but refusing to smile, she gestured to the stage. ‘Are you going back on?’
‘Oh yes, just needed some liquid courage, I’m ashamed to say.’ He got to his feet and took a deep breath. ‘Right, on with the show.’
When he walked away, Mia scanned the bar again. What had caused that shiver down her spine? Was it just Brad? Or was Rob here, somewhere in the darkened corners, watching? She took a decent swallow of her drink then pushed it away. If he was around she couldn’t afford to have her senses dulled. Regardless of where and when, she’d let him come for her.
And when he came for her, when she faced him, he’d find out exactly what she was prepared to do.
CHAPTER
4
Indy knocked on Ben’s office door, dragging his attention away from his report. ‘Hi, what’s up?’
‘You had lunch yet?’
‘Not yet. Problem?’
‘It will be if you keep skipping it,’ she told him sternly. ‘This case is taking a toll on you.’
‘All the more reason to get it wrapped up.’
‘There’s always going to be some fucked-up psychopath or other to chase. You need to eat.’
He sat back in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head. ‘Well, if you’re taking orders … Hi, Russ,’ he added when the older man walked in behind Indy. ‘Indy’s just going out to get us all some lunch. You hungry?’ Ben smiled when she stuck her tongue out at him.
‘I wish I was. She owes me at least two hamburgers and a carton of Chinese,’ Russ said with a grin for Indy.
‘What have you got there?’ Indy asked, pointing to a folder in Russ’s hand and changing the subject.
‘Some new information on Cathy Sharpe. Indy found out she was on a dating site so I requested the information. It just came through. Two days before her death, Cathy organised to meet up with a possible match at an Italian restaurant in Parramatta. From a message she sent to the guy the following morning, it’s clear he didn’t show.’
‘Got a profile pic?’ Ben asked.
Russ dumped it on the table in front of him. ‘This guy looks like a Calvin Klein commercial.’
‘So he’s scanned a dat
ing website, found someone who fits his type, created a fake profile and set her up on a date so he could follow her home. Then he’s simply waited for his opportunity.’
‘Looks like he’s moving from prostitutes to women looking for love.’
‘He’s probably cleaned out all the redheads on the streets in Sydney.’
‘Mia calls it copper blonde,’ Indy corrected, sitting on a spare chair and nudging Ben away from his computer. She typed quickly and brought up dating website.
‘She’d know,’ Ben agreed.
‘There’s no question he’s targeting Mia lookalikes, but at least he’s not targeting her personally,’ Indy said, frowning at the monitor.
‘Which makes no sense,’ Russ said. ‘Why isn’t he targeting Mia? Why settle for these others? Something’s bugging me.’
‘Go on,’ Ben prompted.
‘Why didn’t he kill her that night? From all accounts, she did a real number on his face and he had her captive. It doesn’t make sense that he’d just let her go.’
‘He didn’t “just” anything. We crashed the place and he ran for it,’ Ben reminded him. ‘Did you see the condition she was in when we got her back?’
‘She was alive. How long does it take to cut a throat?’
‘He didn’t want to kill her.’
‘His psych profile states he’s incapable of empathy. Why not?’
‘I’m guessing, but I think that sort of kill would have been too quick. Not satisfying.’
‘So he’s not finished with her? Are the lookalikes substitutes to keep him going until he finds an opportunity to go for Mia again? That’s suggestive of an obsession. Pretty bloody strange for a killer who abhors women and sees them all as prey.’
‘It’s Rob Littleton. Pretty bloody strange is par for the course,’ Ben argued. ‘Remember, he behaved similarly with Ebony. It’s possible he’s trying to restart the hunts and is waiting until that’s sorted to come for Mia.’
He watched Indy sign up on the dating website for a free trial. She skipped creating a profile and started browsing.
‘You think that’s what his next move is?’ she asked distractedly.
‘Assuming they’ve even stopped. They could have moved elsewhere. And there’s a piece of the puzzle still missing from that night. Who contacted the hunters? Who tipped them off we were on our way?’
Indy shrugged. ‘Could have been anyone.’
‘Anyone on a two-way radio with a direct link to them. And it was someone who knew our movements before the majority of the taskforce did.’
‘Didn’t we decide someone was listening to the police radio?’ Russ said.
‘It’s possible, but the message relayed how close the chopper was and where we were coming from. This wasn’t about the location of the ground units. And I’ve been thinking about it: I don’t think the choppers were mentioned on the open channel.’
Indy flicked him a startled look. ‘Tell me you don’t think there’s another cop involved.’
‘It’s something I’ve been considering. I think I might push Brent Boland a bit harder.’
‘In the meantime,’ Indy prompted, ‘I could be looking for a date. I could post a profile undercover.’ She picked up the crime scene photos. ‘I’m tall enough, my eyes are the right colour, and I can wear a wig.’
‘It’s a thought,’ Ben said. ‘We’ll see.’
‘If I’m going to do it, it would be better to set it up sooner rather than later.’
‘I said I’ll think about it, Indy.’ He rarely used that tone with her, but sending Indy after Rob Littleton as a date was only ever going to be a last resort.
Indy considered him silently, then nodded before turning her attention back to the computer.
‘Rob’s fake profile has disappeared from the dating site,’ she told them a moment later.
‘That doesn’t mean he’s left the site, just that he’ll keep altering identities. He’s not stupid. Never has been. He may even have multiple profiles up on multiple dating sites so if one doesn’t appeal to a possible victim, another might.’
‘Good point. And how do we check every single one?’
‘Slowly, I’d suggest.’
‘Oh—here, you just got an email.’ She closed the site and slid out of his way, giving him back his computer.
‘It’s Cathy Sharpe’s phone records.’ He scanned the list, stopped on one. Frowned. ‘What the?’
‘What have you found?’ Indy asked, looking over his shoulder.
Ben dug out his mobile, flicked through it, checked the number on screen again. ‘That can’t be a coincidence.’
‘What’s that?’ Russ asked.
‘Remind me … what was Cathy’s estimated time of death?’
‘Between five and seven pm.’
‘At four fifty-three a call was made from Cathy’s mobile to Mia Morgan.’
‘They knew each other?’ Indy asked.
‘I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.’
Parents and kids, hairstylists, clothing racks and equipment were spread out over a large area by the water, and passers-by were milling around watching with curiosity as Mia pushed to get through the shoot. Angle after angle, instructions, alterations, encouragement. The kids were getting tired, hungry and bored. The morning sun was inconsistent thanks to cloud cover. She smiled enthusiastically at a little boy when he managed an acrobatic manoeuvre in high tops and rainbow-coloured suspenders, then moved on to her next shot.
‘Almost done!’ she reassured an assistant who was pointing at her watch. They’d want to be setting up for the afternoon shoot reasonably quickly. ‘I just need those two girls in the summer dresses.’
She took the shots then gave the assent to begin packing up. Satisfied, she rolled her shoulders and headed into one of the vans that held the clothing and equipment to collect the rest of her things. If she hurried, she’d have time for a preliminary look over the photos before this afternoon’s shoot while she had a coffee, maybe some lunch.
A footstep in the van had her spinning around to see Ben Bowden in the doorway. Mia’s breath caught as his sudden appearance rendered her momentarily speechless. But then, her reaction to Ben Bowden never trickled in slowly. It hit her like a brick every time. It annoyed the hell out of her.
‘Hello, Mia.’
She caught his quick appraisal, decided it was appreciative but she couldn’t be sure—he was one of the few men she’d known who’d never hit on her. If he had, she could have slapped him down. Instead, they’d just sort of danced between all-out war and a reluctant semi-truce since the day he’d interrogated Ally into a panic attack. He perpetually infuriated her and seemed to enjoy keeping her off balance.
And he was too damn attractive for his own good.
She regained her composure and lifted an eyebrow. ‘What can I do for you, detective?’
Humour touched Ben’s features as he leant on the doorframe. ‘Really? After everything we’ve been through.’
She pulled a face. ‘Good point. Get lost, detective.’
His grin just got bigger. ‘Have you got a minute?’
‘Maybe one. We’re packing up.’ She stepped past him to where Jasper was tied up. When she unclipped him he lunged at Ben for a sniff and Ben gave him a quick pat.
‘Last time I saw him he would have fitted in your bag. He’s really grown into those feet.’
‘Still growing.’ They walked to the nearby coffee cart. When they had cups in hand, Ben gestured to a bench overlooking the harbour and sat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Mia gave herself some room by perching on the other end.
Ben watched the shoot pack up. ‘It’s remarkable how quickly everything is cleared away. You’re going to unload it all again this afternoon?’
‘Different vans, different shoot.’
‘Men’s clothes, right?’ He grinned cheekily at her confusion. ‘One of the assistants over there thought I’d turned up early.’
She wasn’t surpri
sed. Ben was better looking and in better shape than many of the models she photographed. But his physical attributes weren’t his most effective weapon, that was his presence, his confident authority—almost a superiority—which seemed to emanate from him. It was powerful and, at times, intimidating. Not that she’d ever let him know it. But those traits made every moment she spent in his presence an effort in calculated indifference.
So she allowed her gaze to breeze over him before shrugging carelessly. ‘You might pull it off.’
The dramatic shock on his face almost earnt him a smile. ‘That was quite close to a compliment. From Mia Morgan. Incredible.’
‘I said might,’ she murmured.
Jasper jumped up, his front paws landing on Ben’s lap. Ben pushed him off then rubbed his ears. ‘You’re a good-looking dog, but I’m guessing you’re not much on guard duty.’
‘He’s too dopey for guard dog material. He loves everyone. He’s, um …’ she grimaced as Jasper attempted to lick Ben’s face, ‘not fussy.’
‘Despite my possible career in modelling, I hear the “obviously” in that statement.’
‘That’s why they made you a detective.’
He laughed. ‘I walked into that one. Guess I’m out of practice.’
She shrugged again and attempted to hide a grin behind a sip of coffee.
‘Interesting collar.’
The two-inch-thick, electric blue, diamante-studded collar required sunglasses to look at. Jasper’s name was inlaid in mock diamonds with stars on either end of it. ‘It’s new. Miguel bought it for him.’
‘Big guy, blonde, likes to sleep in?’
She couldn’t help but stare. ‘You know Miguel?’
‘I went to your house first. You weren’t there, he was. That’s how I knew where to find you. I thought I might have been interrupting something when he came down wearing your robe.’
Her eyes warmed. ‘Miguel and his partner Andre have had a tiff. He needed somewhere to crash, let things cool down.’
‘I see.’
‘So, why are you here?’ She couldn’t have said how, but she felt the mood between them shift.
‘A woman by the name of Cathy Sharpe was murdered two days ago. Did you know her?’