“Your best bet would be to get rid of the old man. That should put the wife into a nursing home.”
Cole kept his features calm, managing to hide his distaste behind a mask of mild interest. “Makes sense.”
Lionel rose from behind his desk as Dunn cracked open the study door. “If you can do this, then you could have a bright future at L&D Constructions.”
Cole rose too. “Thanks for the opportunity.”
Lionel smiled. “I think you could prove useful to have around, Colin.” He cocked his head and gave him an assessing look. “I bet you like the ladies, right?” He turned to Dunn. “Give him Stacey’s number.” Lionel’s smile grew. “Stacey is a lovely girl. Very… accommodating. Tell her I sent you.”
A prostitute. Great. Lionel was fobbing him off to a prostitute, when he knew he was ‘dating’ his stepdaughter. Nice guy. “Oh, I don’t think I can afford…accommodating.”
Lionel waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. She works for me. We file it under administration expenses.” He barked with laughter.
“What about Melanie?”
Lionel’s smile tightened. “Oh, I think you’ll find Stacey is well worth any hiccup you might face with Melanie. Besides, you’ve got to show that girl who’s boss.”
“Ah.” Cole understood. He could just imagine how Melanie would react if she found out one: her ‘date’ was visiting a prostitute; and two: he tried to show Melanie who was boss. He’d seen how that had worked for Dunn. No, Lowry just didn’t want him dating his stepdaughter.
He followed the men out of the study, sparing another brief look at the painting again. If there was a safe in the room, it could possibly be behind that painting. He’d sneak back in later and take a look.
Melanie turned from the view to see Lionel, Robert and Colin emerge onto the patio, and pressed a hand to her flip-flopping stomach. They’d talked. She’d popped downstairs to make a brief, cursory appearance after checking on her mother and had hoped to be gone by the time Lionel reappeared.
Her mother was resting, he’d told the truth there. He just hadn’t mentioned the handprint now visible on her mother’s cheek.
Bastard.
Melanie’s lips tightened. She’d managed to capture the image of Lionel’s marks on her sleeping mother’s face with the camera on her mobile phone. She’d even noted it in the diary she’d started almost a year ago to record all of her mother’s injuries.
Colin noticed her and approached, an easy smile spreading across his face. She clutched the railing. He was too gorgeous. In a white t-shirt and cargo shorts, he looked relaxed and fit, quite different to some of Lionel’s staid, overweight friends. His outfit showed off his broad shoulders, his long, muscled legs—stop staring, damn it. She was doing a great impression of a caught fish, mouth gaping. So not cool.
She wasn’t the only woman watching him cross the terrace like a lithe, graceful animal of prey. Well, he can pounce on me, any—no, no he can’t. He worked for her stepfather, was now getting chummy with her stepfather. Heaven only knows what they talked about in the den. Soccer. The weather. Flash drives with stolen data.
She knew her stepfather had bribed counsellors and inspectors for several of his projects—she’d even seen a cash handover about a year ago, when Lionel hadn’t realised she’d passed his parked car on her way to a property inspection. On another occasion she’d seen him dining with a well-known official and two very attractive, very attentive ladies. Neither of whom was her mother. She suspected he was at it again with this development down in the Illawarra—she just couldn’t prove it, damn it.
“Hi, Mel,” Colin greeted her, his green eyes twinkling. “How was work?”
“Fine,” she responded automatically, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. “And you?”
Colin’s gaze flicked momentarily over to Lionel, toward the other end of the terrace, and she noticed his friendly, relaxed smile tighten, just for a moment, before his focus returned to her. Then his smile warmed. At least, it felt like it did. Melanie shifted, trying to catch some of the summer breeze off the water. It was a warm afternoon, right? It wasn’t just her, yeah? Colin rested his arm on the balcony railing, his shoulder touching hers. Okay, really, really warm. She blew a gust of breath up to her forehead in an effort to cool herself down, and found herself staring at the play of muscle and tendon on his forearm, so dark and tanned against her own.
“It’s been productive,” Colin said.
Melanie pulled her gaze away from how the hairs on his arm turned golden in the sunlight, and realised he’d spoken. “What?”
“Work. It’s been productive.” She frowned at him, until she realised he was trying to have a conversation with her while she ogled him as though he was a cast member of Manpower’s Thunder from Down Under tour.
“Oh, good,” she commented lamely. She cleared her throat. “Uh, so, I noticed you were inside talking to Lionel and Rob.”
Colin nodded, and gazed back out over the river. “Yep.”
She waited, but that was the only response forthcoming. “About work?” she asked, hoping he’d get the hint and tell her what was discussed—or rather, what wasn’t, like a flash drive.
“Yep.”
Melanie chewed the inside of her cheek. Swell. Up until now Colin had bothered her. He’d made demands. He’d teased. Now, when she wanted him to talk, he shut up. Huh.
She looked up at him, hoping he’d read her mind—okay, maybe not everything on her mind, particularly now that she had Manpower fantasies stripping—er, tripping, through her train of thought—and give her the information she desperately needed.
He slid her a sideways glance. “What?”
“Nothing.” Damn it. She glared out over the water, squinting against the sparkling waves turning golden under the setting sun. She didn’t want to call unnecessary attention to the flash drive, and if he’d forgotten about it, maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the less said, the better.
“So, tell me, Melanie, what made you get into real estate? Your stepfather?”
Melanie snorted before she could stop herself. “No. Lionel had nothing to do with my choice of career.”
“You’ve got a degree in business administration, you could work in any industry, so why real estate?”
She frowned. “How do you know I’ve got a degree in business admin?”
He paused, and he gazed at a point over her shoulder briefly. “I think maybe your mother mentioned it at the dinner.
“Oh.” He’d enquired about her. Either that or he’d politely endured one of those proud mama conversations. She wasn’t sure which was more disconcerting.
“So, real estate?” he prompted her.
She smiled. “Dad used to work in real estate.”
Colin shifted to look at her fully. “What happened to your father?”
Her lips turned down at the question. “He died. He and Mum were involved in a car accident when I was twelve. Some joy-rider wiped them out on the Old Princes Highway.”
Colin blinked. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice deep with sincerity.
Melanie shrugged. “It was years ago. I remember Dad used to take me to the open house inspections,” she laughed. “I used to make these remarks when people went through, things, like ‘Oh, Daddy, I love this bedroom, can it be mine?’ Dad used to call me his little secret weapon. It used to be our joke. I gave him one of those little locket rings, you know where spies used to hide their poison? That way he could always carry his little secret weapon with him.” She sighed. She missed her Dad. She’d stopped wondering what it would have been like if he hadn’t died, and her mother hadn’t married Lionel. That kind of thinking didn’t help her situation, all those dreamy-eyed what-ifs. Life is what it is, her father used to always say, and you have to make the best with what you’ve got.
“And then your mother met Lionel?”
Melanie scowled, and focused on a little motorboat powering its way through the waves toward them.
&nb
sp; “Yes, she met Lionel. He was one of Dad’s associates, and really helped Mum out at the time. She was in hospital for a while.” She didn’t really want to think of that time, of her grandparents looking after her while her mother recuperated, of Dad just…gone.
The little runabout pulled up at the Lowry pontoon, and Melanie watched idly as the elderly couple worked with surprising agility to moor the boat.
“So, I work in real estate. What about you? Why are you in construction?”
Colin’s dimples deepened as he grinned, and he leaned over to answer. “I like working with my hands,” he murmured.
She trembled, his deep voice rumbling near her ear, vibrating along her neck. Her nipples peaked in her lacy bra, and all of a sudden her mind was filled with images of what his hands could do to her body.
She swallowed. “Oh,” she managed to squeak out. She locked gazes with him, and his head dipped lower. She could feel the warmth of his body so close to hers, his scent, dark and spicy, enveloped her, faint and seductive.
She forced herself to look away, to focus on something else. She glanced down at the trio walking along the dock toward the house and blinked.
“Is that—is that Randall and Esme?” she leaned over the balcony, trying to squint against the reflection off the water to get a clearer view.
“I don’t know who Randall and Esme are, but that’s definitely Gabe, my site supervisor.”
“Is he—is he doing ballet?”
Chapter 12
“This is you keeping them away from each other?” Esmerelda snapped as she walked along the pontoon toward shore. Even from here she could see Melanie and The Interferer, heads bowed together over the balcony—watching a sunset, of all things.
“This is you sobering up our tiny dancer?” Rumpelstiltskin’s response was just as sarcastic as Gabe twirled and leapt and giggled his way ahead of them. For a big guy he was surprisingly graceful.
“Fairy dust is potent, Rump, you know that. We’re just lucky it wasn’t enough to keep him in a trance.”
Rump stopped, and Esmerelda ploughed into him. “We can put him under? Give me your purse.”
Esmerelda tugged it away from him. “No, Rump. We are not going to put him under. You can’t just go around doping folks with fairy dust. He has to be involved with his fairy tale, not oblivious to it.” Her words were accompanied by a splash, and they both turned to see Gabe floating on his back in the river, a big grin on his face.
“What is he doing now?” Esmerelda gasped.
“Looks like backstroke,” Rump replied.
“Oh, my God,” Melanie gasped.
Colin took off running down the stairs, and Melanie followed. She hit the pontoon as Colin dived off the wooden deck and hit the water. In moments he was by Gabe’s side, and she sighed with relief as he started to swim him back to the deck. Gabe wasn’t in the least distressed.
She turned around and realised the elderly couple were just a few feet away. “Randall, what happened? What are you doing here?”
Randall blinked sheepishly behind his thick glasses. “I didn’t know you lived here.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes, you did.”
“Oh. Well, we were just out for a nice little jaunt.”
She folded her arms. “Try again.”
“Okay. Someone made an offer on the Marine Parade property, and I wanted to get the contract process started.”
“Randall, it’s six o’clock on a Saturday evening. The bank, the solicitors, the council, they’re all closed now. It can wait until Monday morning.”
Randall’s chin lifted. “But I thought if you drew up the contracts, we could start straight away with the exchange.”
Colin reached the pontoon, and placed Gabe’s hands together on the deck. Melanie hurried over to the edge of the pontoon. “The solicitors do the contracts, Randall, not me. It can wait until Monday.”
She grasped hold of Gabe’s hands. He smiled up at her, and she paused. His brown eyes were full of joy, with a sparkle of almost child-like innocence as he grinned up at her.
“Hello. You’re pretty.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Hello. You’re wet.”
Colin hauled himself up out of the water, and Melanie stopped laughing. His t-shirt was now transparent, and she could clearly see the delineation of muscle, washboard abs and dark nipples. She couldn’t help staring. He was all hot, and wet and sexy, and strong and…
”Wow. You must work out,” Gabe commented as Colin stood up, leaned over and grasped his hands. Her thoughts, exactly.
Colin’s laughter wheezed out as he hauled the heavier man up onto the pontoon. “I work out with you, Gabe.”
Gabe frowned as he lay back on the pontoon. “Oh.”
“Oh, Gabriel, dear, are you all right?” Esme hobbled up to them.
Gabe’s perplexed frown switched from Colin to Esme. “Yeah, I’m okay…Who …?”
“Aunt Esme, dear,” Esme patted him on the arm. “Oh, dear, we need to get you inside and out of these wet clothes.”
“Let’s get him upstairs, we’ll find something for him to wear,” Melanie offered, and flicked a brief glance at Colin before looking away. “You, too, Colin.”
“Here, let me help you,” Esme crooned, and Melanie shifted so she could reach her grand-nephew, only Esme crossed to Colin, and took hold of his arm. A surprised Colin let her. Melanie shrugged and turned to help Gabe to his feet.
He leaned heavily on her, and they almost pitched over the other side of the pontoon before she was able to find her balance. “Let me help you,” he said to her, smiling as water dripped down his face.
Melanie rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Gabe.”
Randall followed behind them, shaking his head.
Cole nodded his thanks when Melanie handed him a fluffy towel and a change of clothes. He didn’t want to know where she got the clothes, just in case it was from Lowry’s personal wardrobe. He shuddered. Ick.
He followed her dutifully as she led Gabe and him to bathrooms where they could shower and change, his gaze resting on the casual swing of her hips. She was a beautiful woman, with a graceful gait that seemed unwittingly sexy. He sighed. She was related to Lowry. Get that through your thick skull. He entered the bathroom, but stopped at the shuffle of dainty feet behind him. He turned, surprise arching his eyebrows.
“Oh, it’s all right, Mrs Stilson, I can take it from here,” Cole told the helpful Esme, smiling politely before shutting the bathroom door on her face.
Phew. The woman had a strong grip, and had insisted on helping the man who saved her grand-nephew from a ‘disastrous end’. Although Gabe had seemed to be just fine, if a little…happy. His lips quirked. The site supervisor was normally a quiet kind of guy, almost shy. Colin knew the man had an admirable work ethic, and paid close attention to detail—particularly when it came to the safety of his crew. He was still trying to figure out if Gabe was somehow involved in Lowry’s scam, or if he was just as he presented—a hardworking good guy who put his trust in the wrong people. It was weird, seeing the man so relaxed, so outgoing. He smiled. He’d even thumped Lowry on the back and given him the thumbs up when he’d seen the house. He wondered how that would pan out Monday morning.
Cole showered under the warm spray. He lifted a bottle from the shelf in the shower and uncapped it, sniffing its contents. Melanie. His body tightened when he realised this was her bathroom, her shower. She would normally be in here, suds trailing over her glistening body…
He rested his head against the shower screen. Down boy. Think with your other head. Despite all the publicity photos, all of the write-ups in the social and political pages, he was beginning to sense all was not as it seemed with this family. Melanie seemed to make a point of avoiding her stepfather, and his partner, at every opportunity. Well, after the display with the partner at the fundraising night, he could understand that situation—but her stepfather? There was something going on there.
What if she wasn
’t in cahoots with him? What if she wasn’t working with him, but against him? That could also explain why she had what she had, and why she didn’t want her stepfather to know it.
His mind drifted to the conversation they’d had before Gabe had gone for a swim in the Georges River. He and Melanie had something in common. His father had also been killed when he was young. The only difference was, Cole had witnessed his father’s murder. Eventually the man who had pulled the trigger, and the men who had hired him, were arrested, tried and convicted. Cole’s father had been a whistle-blower, a material witness, and had died trying to right a wrong. Now Cole spent his life doing the same. And there was something very, very wrong going on in this family, he could sense it.
He finished his shower and dried himself off quickly, determinedly ignoring more of Melanie’s lotions. He couldn’t help noticing that there weren’t any masculine products in her bathroom. No aftershave, no anti-perspirant. Not even a second toothbrush.
He’d done his research. There didn’t appear to be another man in Melanie’s life—although he couldn’t quite figure out why. She was gorgeous, with long dark hair, blue eyes and a body built for happy naps. He wasn’t going to deny that her being ‘unattached’ gave him a quiet satisfaction.
He frowned. It shouldn’t. He was on a job. Yes, he’d cozied up to her in order to get closer to Lowry, but he hadn’t liked doing it. Well, he had liked doing it, but not the reason behind it. If she was involved with her stepfather’s criminal acts, he’d have to arrest her. If she wasn’t, he was going to tear her family apart. Either way, that would probably kill any affection on her end.
Better to get whatever information he could about Lowry, and close this case as quickly as possible. Maybe that would minimise any hurt he created. He opened the door and stepped outside into the hallway.
The house was constructed so that one wall of the hallway was clear glass overlooking the river—and the balcony below. The sun had set, although there was still a faint orange glow that the encroaching night still hadn’t managed to extinguish. Below, it looked like the party was breaking up. Lowry and Dunn were gently herding the guests toward the drive. He scanned the area. He couldn’t see Gabe, or his great-aunt and uncle. Or Melanie. He automatically searched the crowd for the tall, willowy brunette, but she was nowhere to be seen. Probably seeing to her other drenched charge. But Lowry and Dunn were occupied, at least for a little while. Now would be a good time to do a quick search of Lowry’s office. He could always claim he got lost looking for his host…
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