Reaching for a nearby outcrop, she found the least painful handhold, grasped it and sprang from the floor. Her foot sought a suitable cavity and deftly locked into position as her other arm stretched upward to the next ledge. Hand over hand, she grasped, scraped and cursed as she scrambled upward. She dare not stop. Stopping meant defeat, meant she wasn’t good enough. She could do this. She had to do this.
Her breath came in sharp bursts as she hung outstretched like the bats inhabiting the Wee Jasper caves. Only a little more. Only a little more. As she titled her head back, daylight beckoned. Not much farther to go, only a couple more metres to freedom. But then a terrible thought struck. Those last few metres crept back on themselves as the cave ceiling curved over like the inside of an egg shell. Somehow she’d have to edge horizontally along the ceiling like a gecko just to get to the hole. Dear God. What am I going to do? As her mind fogged, a light splashed the walls in the cave below. Flattening herself against the wall, she winced as the limestone smarted. Please don’t let him find me. Please…
Chapter 34
Bloody kangaroos. It’s taken me nearly two hours to get back to Yass. Stupid animals. Jumping out in front of the car. Bloody near killed myself swerving to miss one of the bastards. If hitting them wouldn’t cause so much damage to the car, I would have run the mongrels over. But it’s a rental. Can’t draw any attention to myself. Doesn’t matter, I’ll still be able to get some sleep. I need some rest with what I’ve got planned today. I hope Jessie appreciates how much effort I’ve gone to, to make her comfortable. I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun when I get back there after a few hours shut-eye. Just the thought of the surprises I’ve got in store makes me hard. She’ll have forgotten all about that big hero once we’re together. She’s my dancer, not his. It makes me hard just thinking about it, but I don’t dare touch myself. That’ll be Jessie’s job, soon, very soon.
Here it is. The Worst Eastern Motel. Geez, I’m a funny bloke. Just as well the car space for my room is empty. Some slant-eyed idiot parked in it yesterday. Had his car loaded up with his stinking wife and two yellow brats. I gave him what for...Asian prick. They’re taking over this country, I swear.
God, it’ll be good to hit the bed. I hate driving. A hot shower won’t go astray either. Then I’ll be nice and fresh for Jessie. Only a few more steps to the door…Wait a minute, who’s this big bloke coming out of the shadows? What’s going on?
“Excuse me sir, is your name Peter Bookman?”
What’s this cop doing here? “No. That’s not me. Sorry, officer.”
“Well, the room you’re about to go into is registered to Mr Peter Bookman. So, either you’re Peter Bookman or you’re about to break and enter someone else’s room?”
Shit. How did they find me?
“Please show me your driver’s licence or some form of photo ID, sir.”
This big gorilla has got to be joking. No way. “I’ve left my driver’s licence in my car, officer.” I’ve got to get out of here. Make a run for it. Run, run…
“Stop. Put your hands behind your head.”
Shit. What’s with the other coppers and the guns? Where did they come from? “Okay. Okay. I haven’t done anything wrong, officers. I was just going to get my driver’s licence from my car.” Better keep my hands up, otherwise these trigger happy bastards will shoot me.
“Skip Norton. I’m arresting you on suspicion of kidnapping Jessie Hilton. Put your hands down behind your back.”
Bastards! How did they find me? The big interfering hero. I bet it’s his fault. Doesn’t matter. They can’t pin anything on me.
“You are not obliged to say or do anything unless you wish to do so.”
The cops never knew what happened to Muffin or Chrissy or the others. The same will happen this time. Without Jessie’s body, they can’t prove anything. And I’m certainly not telling them where she is.
“Whatever you say or do may be used in evidence. Do you understand?”
Still, it would have been nice to spend some time with my dancer. Now what will I do? I don’t dare touch myself.
Chapter 35
“How much further, Richard?” Pale dawn lurked over the ranges as BJ gunned the Jeep along the country road. Against his prior decision to find and beat the crap out of Skip Norton, he chose to find Jessie as soon as possible. If Norton was in town, the police would take care of him. If he was with Jessie, he would do the job, with pleasure.
Richard clung to the door grip of the speeding Jeep. “Take that road. There. On the left.”
Throwing the Jeep onto the dirt track, BJ hit a hollow and he, Richard and Whiskey became airborne in the cabin. Weathering a back-wrenching jolt, he hollered, “Where now?”
“Up there on that ridge.” Richard’s finger pointed north to a copse of eucalypt trees.
Roaring up the track, the Jeep kicked up clouds of red dust and scattered mobs of choughs in fluttering black swirls of feathers.
“Here. Stop here.” Richard craned his neck. “This is it.”
BJ scanned the landscape for access. Aside from hundreds of limestone boulders lodged in the slopes, he could see nothing but undulating hills covered in hardy, native grass. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“So where are the entrances to this cave system?”
“They’re scattered across the ridge, about fifty metres or so behind those rocks.” Richard pointed in a westerly direction to a line of oversized boulders resembling the backbone of an ancient dinosaur.
“How many entrances do you reckon?”
“Hundreds, maybe more.” Richard grimaced.
“Okay. Let’s go. Come on, Whiskey.” He opened the back door and Whiskey bounded out. “Sit. Whiskey. Good Girl.” He glanced over to Richard. “You get the bag out of the back and be ready to run.”
On opening the zip lock bag containing Jessie’s soiled socks, BJ held it under the dog’s nose. “Find Jessie. Find Jessie.” He prayed this was the right spot and that Jessie’s scent lingered enough to trigger Whiskey’s nose.
Taking a deep inhale, the dog quivered and smelled the air. Up, down, right, left, she sniffed, but remained stationary.
Doubt gripped him. “Come on, girl.” He thrust the scent bag under her nose again. “Find Jessie. Find Jessie.”
Sweeping her head, Whiskey sniffed and then launched to her feet. She dashed up the hill, with BJ and Richard running close behind, until she gained speed.
“Come on, Richard. Here give me the bag.” BJ snatched it and pumped his legs harder to catch up with Whiskey, leaving Richard a few metres behind. Suddenly, the slope peaked, and the dog propped. Heaving gulps of air, he kneeled beside her. “Find Jessie. Find Jessie.”
Smelling left and right, Whiskey hesitated, nose quivering. The dawn breeze had suddenly died. Wee Jasper Valley held its breath one last time before daybreak. Come on, come on. Where’s the wind? The three of them waited, tense and impatient. Then Whiskey’s nose caught a wayward gust of wind, and she took off. Over the ridge and down, she picked her way through a blanket of sharp-edged limestone rocks.
“Good girl. Find Jessie. Find Jessie.” BJ spurred her on and the Border collie continued in the most important exercise of her life. After ten minutes more of investigating the rocky terrain, the dog snorted, plonked her butt to the ground and alerted with a bark.
“Good girl,” he whispered, marking the cave opening. “This looks like where he took her. Through here.” BJ pointed out the entrance to Richard as he joined them.
“You don’t have to whisper, BJ. The limestone caves have no echo.” Defeat pulled at his face. “Even if Jess was calling out we couldn’t hear her.”
“Terrific,” groaned BJ. “You wait here. I’m going in with Whiskey to see if we can find her.” He wrestled his torch from his vest and flicked it on.
“Take this.” Richard handed him a ball of thick-threaded string. “You’ll need it so you don’t get lost. I’ll hang onto it from this end. Those passag
eways all tend to look the same after a while.”
“Will do. Thanks.” He slapped Richard on the shoulder. “Don’t give up, Richard. We’ll find her.” Pulling out the scent bag once more, he cued Whiskey. “Find Jessie. Find Jessie.”
“Be careful…” called Richard, as he wound the end of string around his hand.
“Don’t worry. I’m bringing Jessie home. I promise.” BJ’s gut squirmed at the thought of breaking another promise. Failure was not an option this time. Giving Richard a final nod, he shone his torch beam into the cave opening. With Whiskey heeled beside him, he stepped into the passageway. It wasn’t much wider than a standard doorway and about half a metre lower. On either side, shards of razor-edged limestone jutted inwards making the thoroughfare more narrow and dangerous. He hunched over, endeavouring not to hit his head on the uneven ceiling or connect with the walls. “Stay close by me, girl. I don’t want you getting cut up.” Progress was grindingly slow. At each junction where other passageways intersected, he waited for Whiskey’s nose to lead the way. Standing in the dark with only a sliver of torch light, he sensed evil lurking in the blackness. Like the desert at night, this place was at once, magnificent yet malicious. Unravelling the string, he checked around for markers Norton must have made. If there were any, BJ couldn’t see them. This guy has put some effort into this, so he won’t take kindly to being disturbed. Using a high degree of stealth and a minimal degree of light, he guided Whiskey on her mission. The dog clung to his leg, sniffing and pushing forward on the scent trail.
Every movement proved challenging. Every edge primed to inflict damage. The thought of Jessie holed up with some maniac in this blackness, fired up his rage. He’d witnessed this strategy before. The enemy terrorises their victims in the dark. Not being able to see increases a victim’s vulnerability and weakens their ability to fight back. Slow, painful and torturous, the horrors that sicko could have already inflicted on her made his blood run cold. If BJ found Norton before the police and despite whether he’d touched her or not, he would administer injuries severe enough to lay him out in hospital for months. Better to ask forgiveness, than permission to beat the perpetrator to a pulp. Something he never got the chance to do with the drunk driver who killed Rachael and Tiffany.
While his passion for revenge stoked his urge to move faster, Whiskey also pulled forward with more eagerness. In front of them the passageway opened into a cavernous space. Fingers of light filtered down from above. Whiskey looked up and alerted with a bark. Shining his torch upward, BJ glimpsed a figure hanging from an upward curving ledge. Moving closer underneath, he shouted. “Jessie, is that you?”
“BJ? Yes. Help me.” She sounded exhausted.
“Is Norton here?”
“No, but he could be back any minute.” Her voice broke. “Help me...please.”
“Hold on.” He shone his torch around the cave and flinched. Its walls looked unscalable. He didn’t know how she’d got up there. Even if he could reach her, he had no idea how to get her down. She’d trapped herself on the underside of the ceiling.
“Jessie can you hang on a little longer? I’ll have to go topside and rope down to get you.” The last thing he wanted was to leave her, but there was no other way to save her.
“I’ll try. But hurry.”
“Okay. If you can, call out so we can hear you from the top.” Before he finished his instruction, he was already rushing from the cave with Whiskey beside him. Speed replaced stealth, as did contact rather than care. The limestone rock tore his shirt and scraped his arms as he retraced his steps. Thanks to the string line, he exited in record time and launched out of the entrance.
“Jessie’s hanging off a wall just under a hole in one of the caves in there.”
“That’s a daylight hole. The place is covered in them.”
“We need to find that hole. I’ll rappel down to get her. Let’s go.”
They sprinted up the slope onto a plateau above the cave system. Once they cleared enough space, BJ set Whiskey to her task once more. “Find Jessie. Find Jessie.” He prayed his dog would pick up the scent above the ground and lead them to where Jessie hung underneath the daylight hole. If Jessie had the strength to call out, the dog might hear her as well. More sniffing sent Whiskey east about fifty metres where the plateau changed into a steep slope. Galloping downwards, the dog skidded to the bottom where she plonked on her haunches and alerted with an abrupt bark. Right behind her, BJ slewed in with the reward. In front of them yawned a jagged-edge hole leading down into the earth. Whiskey barked again. Rolling onto his belly, he pressed himself to the ground and peered in. “Jessie, are you there?”
“Yes. Yes. I don’t think I can hang on much longer.” The fatigue in her voice galvanised BJ into action. He snapped to a kneeling position, opened his bag and dragged out the equipment. With a coil of rope over his shoulder, he strode to the nearest, sturdiest tree and began preparations. His hands moved at a feverish speed. Time was running out. In minutes, he’d rigged a contingency rappelling system, tested it with an almighty tug and laid a small tarp over the rim of the hole to protect his ropes.
“Hang in there, Jessie,” he shouted, while he locked the harness buckles, ready to rappel.
“Hurry, BJ…” She was fading. He could hear it in her voice.
He backed to the edge of the hole and balanced on the balls of his feet, testing the tension. Once satisfied, he called, “I’m coming down.” He dropped like a rock. He slipped down the line, coming face to face with her within moments and snatched her around the waist.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” His sharp grip forced a shuddering breath from her lungs. He held her gaze, watching the trapped look of panic lift from her expression. With a weak smile, she slumped in his arms.
Titling his head back, he shouted. “I’ve got her, Richard. We’re coming up.” Engaging the retrieval system, he hauled them both to the top, where Richard helped drag Jessie onto the grass.
“Oh God, Jess. Are you all right?” He bent over his bruised and bleeding sister.
Sliding in beside him, BJ lifted her head and rested it on his lap. Bearing serious scrapes and bruises, she heaved a couple of ragged breaths of relief. Like a weather-worn doll, she lay in a crumpled mass of sticky sweat, torn clothes and dirty hair. But to BJ, she had never looked lovelier. “You are one tough lady, Jessie Hilton.”
Forcing a thin smile, she peered up at him. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I think I’m falling in love with you, Jessie Hilton.”
It wasn’t until Saturday afternoon, after the police had finished with their questioning and Dr Bruen had tended to Jessie’s wounds that BJ was allowed to see her.
“Don’t stay too long, Brad. After everything she’s been through and the police questioning, she needs rest.” Joanna patted his arm and lowered her voice. “Thank you for bringing my daughter home to me. I don’t know what I would have done…” In a flurry, her hands flew to hide the tide of tears welling in her eyes.
“She’s safe now. She’s made of tough stuff. Like her mother I suspect.” He wrapped an arm around Joanna’s shoulder and comforted her.
She dabbed a tissue to her eyes. “No. Jessica is much tougher and braver than me.” Straightening her back, Joanna defied the emotional overload and left the Garden Wing.
He knocked at Jessie’s bedroom door and then stuck his head around the corner. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” Her bandaged hand motioned for him to enter. Propped up in bed with white ruffled pillows stacked behind her head, she looked the picture of convalescing sweetness. Only her strapped arms and hands told another story, as did the brown blotches of Betadine marring the creamy white of her fair complexion. In defiance of her hardship, her eyes glittered their hazel beauty, alert and purposeful. Tumbling over her shoulders brunette tresses framed her composed expression. He marvelled at her resilience. When she tapped the bed and shuffled over for him to sit, he obeyed.
“How are
you feeling?”
“Taking everything into consideration, not so bad. I look and feel like I’ve been in a cat fight, but no real injuries. Nothing to stop me from dancing…”
“I doubt there’d be much that could stop you from doing anything after this.”
“Thanks. But I don’t want to put your theory to the test anytime soon.”
The thought of all she’d endured wrung his heart. Tenderly, he lifted her bound hand. “Jessie, I need to know. Did he do anything to you?” He hated even asking, but he had to know.
“Not that I know of. He drugged me, but I don’t think he touched me. He said it would be today. That’s why I had to get out of there. Even if I died trying.” She shuddered. “But you saved me.” Her grateful smile acted like a balm soothing his guilt and need for revenge.
“No. You saved yourself. Richard and I were there to help you over the line. I promised to look after you, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry.” He bent down and kissed her hand. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“You can’t control another person’s actions. You may have been able to do that when you served in the military, but you can’t do it in everyday life. It was my fault not yours. I placed myself in danger by wandering off in the dark down to the river. It was me being foolish, not you.”
“I disagree. I made a promise to you, and I let you down.”
“What’s done is done. I’m going to make a full recovery, and I’m sure Skip will be put away for a long time.”
“No doubt about it. Angel will prosecute and with you as a witness, there’s no chance he’ll get off this time.”
Retribution: Who would you kill to escape your past? Page 18