by Mandy Magro
Racing to his gun cabinet, he retrieved his shotgun. Then, sprinting out his front door and towards the back bushlands of his property, he dialled the number Stanley had given him—Shirley and Tom’s house number. He dreaded making this call, but he had to.
Stanley answered the phone in one ring. ‘Dylan, Shirl has you on loudspeaker…any news?’
Dylan’s throat squeezed tighter. ‘Yeah, Stan, and I’m afraid it’s not good.’
He kept running as he explained the dire situation, adrenaline filling him. He could hear Pearl screaming in the background and Shirley trying to console her. Stanley was crying too, the man’s wracking sobs tearing at Dylan’s heart. ‘Stan, I promise, I’m going to get your girl back. The cops are on their way. I’m sorry, but I gotta go…I’m almost at Craig’s boundary now.’
‘I’ll see you out there, Dylan. I’ll borrow Shirl’s car and be on my way.’
Stanley was gone before Dylan had time to tell him to stay put. He didn’t want anyone else’s life put in danger. But then again, what did he expect? Renee was Stanley’s little girl, as Annie was his, and fathers protected their children with their lives.
What a fucking nightmare—his two most precious girls, in the hands of a murderer. He knew he had to get to them fast, because with a man as callous and coldblooded as Craig clearly was, time wasn’t going to be on his side. It would take him about ten minutes on foot to get to where the screen was blipping, and the clock was ticking…
CHAPTER
22
Pavarotti’s ‘Nessun Dorma’ pounded the walls of the underground cellar. Renee had worked out that this was the darkroom Craig had mentioned at the Studs and Fuds. It gave her some relief to know they weren’t in the middle of nowhere, but instead right next door to Ironbark Plains, to Dylan. The famous song was so very out of place in the dank, cobweb filled space. Opera was meant to be glitzy and glamorous, but here a single blazing bulb hung from the low ceiling, illuminating the blackened walls and giving Renee a good view of where Craig was holding her and Annie captive.
A multitude of photos hung from wooden pegs, the ones of her and Hayley from the other night pegged to a thin rail above her, the smile on her face in such sharp contrast to the sheer terror she was experiencing now. There were also shots she hadn’t been aware of Craig taking while she and Hayley had been dancing on the table, all of them from very compromising angles. It was repulsive to think he’d taken advantage of their personal space without them even knowing. Looking beyond the recent snapshots, she muffled a gasp as she spotted the back wall, photos plastering every single inch of it.
She slowly scanned the pictures, her disbelief growing by the second. There were recent shots of her outside the pub with Mick, walking into the hospital to visit her nan, coming out of the post office and the local grocery store. There were old photos of her and Scarlet swimming in the dam as teenagers, others of them playing at the hunter’s shack, and a series of her running in the dark towards the Land Cruiser at the ball. So there had been someone following her—and the light she had caught a very fleeting glimpse of was no lighter, or torch, it had been the flash of Craig’s camera. What would have happened to her if Dylan hadn’t come to her rescue? And then her eyes came upon the most disturbing photos of all—she and Dylan making love at the hunter’s shack as teenagers. The images were a little blurry, their naked flesh lit only by the many candles flickering within the shack, but it was unmistakably them. She felt utterly violated, one of her most precious moments now tainted by this monster who now held her and Annie captive. Anger surged throughout her. How dare he… And then everything about the note being left on her windscreen the following day made sense. Craig had lashed out in a jealous rage.
A snort-filled chuckle dragged her attention back to in front of her.
‘That back wall is a work of art, wouldn’t you agree, Renee?’
She said nothing, her gaze steely.
Craig snickered, then began mouthing the words to the song with exaggerated movements, his right leg bouncing, a baseball bat in one hand and a smouldering cigarette in the other. The drifting smoke made the room even more claustrophobic. On the floor sat an almost empty bottle of whiskey, the rest of it now pumping through his veins. Other than his occasional melodic attempts, he’d been silent for the past half an hour, instead smiling at Renee and Annie in a way that suggested so many morbid things, his fingers occasionally tapping the gun in the holster on his hip suggestively.
Renee clutched a shivering Annie to her, the chains around Annie’s wrists and ankles with just enough give to allow the girl to partly sit on her lap. As the minutes ticked by, Annie’s breathing was becoming more and more laboured, the dampness and cigarette smoke triggering her asthma. Renee stroked her hair and part of her back, trying her best to calm her. Her hand travelling down Annie’s petite arm, her fingers found her watch—the tracking watch Dylan had bought her for her birthday. She felt a jolt of hope.
Renee tried to raise her voice above the music. ‘Please, Craig, she needs her asthma puffer.’ Her breath trailed in front of her for a few seconds, the temperature of the room icy.
Craig just shrugged and then took another swig of whiskey.
Wishing she could gouge Craig’s cold heart out of his chest with her fingernails, Renee turned her attention back to Annie. ‘Are you doing okay, sweetheart?’ she whispered.
Annie remained silent—her body now heavy and limp. Her head was pressed to Renee’s shoulder and her eyes were closed. ‘I feel a bit weird,’ she mumbled, almost inaudible. Her breath was becoming more of a wheeze.
There was something very wrong, Annie looking and feeling like she had been given a sedative. Renee recalled the drink Craig had given her and her heart dropped. ‘What did you give her?’ she cried over the music.
‘Nothing too serious. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,’ Craig said, smirking.
Trying not to panic, Renee gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry, Annie. Your daddy will be here soon.’
Annie didn’t respond as her body relaxed completely in Renee’s arms. Filled with dread, Renee moved her face to try and feel any sign of Annie’s breath, the rhythmic warmth on her cheek worth more than all the gold in the world. Annie was obviously drugged, but at least sleep was stealing her away from this terrifying nightmare.
‘What the fuck are you telling her!’ Craig boomed as he stood, throwing his chair backwards in the process. The crash echoed around the room, but it didn’t wake Annie. He stumbled over to Renee and placed the end of the baseball bat against her cheek. ‘I told you before, don’t open your fucking mouth unless I tell you to.’ He pushed the bat in harder. ‘Or I’ll smash this into the back of your head, just like I did to Shelley. Got it?’
Biting her bottom lip to stop it quivering, Renee nodded—mortified by the revelation. All this time Dylan had believed Shelley had died from an accident, and yet she’d been taken from him just like Scarlet had been taken from her. And all because Craig was jealous that so many of them loved Dylan so very deeply. This was going to break his big beautiful heart even more.
‘Good, and don’t push me, because I’ll take great pleasure in doing it if I have to,’ he roared over the music. He stood in front of her, using the bat to push her chin upwards so she was looking at him. ‘So this is what Scarlet would have looked like if she’d lived long enough. Damn shame I had to kill her really. You’re a fucking doozy.’ He pulled the bat away and waved it around in the air as he continued, smacking it into his hand as he did. ‘Just think, if you’d fallen for me instead of Dylan, none of this would have happened. Your sister would still be alive, and so would Shelley.’ He grunted while laughing at the same time. ‘And do you know what the funniest fucking thing is?’ He swayed a little to the right, the whiskey taking away his sense of balance. ‘Scarlet’s buried at your boyfriend’s place, right under all your fucking noses, and you still haven’t found her. I thought he and Ralph were going to find her body th
e other day, when they were digging that great big fucking hole for the dam. Then I could have pinned the murder on Dylan, like I’d planned to all along. But they didn’t…the useless pair of fucking idiots.’
Renee fought to keep the horror from her face, not wanting to give Craig the satisfaction of seeing it—it had just been one shocking revelation after another. Instead she screamed on the inside, silently crying for her beloved sister and her unborn baby, and for Shelley. The snapped pendant resting against her heart felt like a heavy weight on her chest. At least now she knew where Scarlet’s body was, so if she got out of here alive, she could finally give her the burial she deserved. How she wished she could break free from these chains and make this evil excuse for a human being pay for what he had done.
Unexpectedly and very abruptly, Craig slumped down beside her as though the wind had been beaten out of him, and every muscle in her tensed, her breathing shallow. And then he dropped his head in his hands and began to cry, loud wracking sobs that echoed around the room.
‘All I ever wanted was for you to love me, like I love you, but you never even noticed I existed. And then I got stuck with Louise, so I thought I would make a go of it with her, but then she couldn’t love me either. She kept going on and on about how much of a good man Dylan was and why couldn’t I be more of a family man like him, and then she left me and took my boy with her.’ He blew his nose on the sleeve of his copper’s uniform then glared at Renee. ‘All you women are the fucking same…never fucking happy. And Scarlet was no different. I was quite happy to just fuck her, but then she wanted more and more and more. I reckon she fell pregnant on purpose to try and trap me. Never fucking happy.’ He leant in and kissed her on the cheek, then rested his head on her shoulder. She shuddered with terror and repulsion. ‘I wish things could have been different, Renee. Our lives could have been so great if we’d ended up together.’
Renee closed her eyes, begging herself not to vomit as she fought the urge to turn her face away. She knew if she did, he would quite possibly kill her on the spot. This man was beyond unstable—he was a bomb on the verge of exploding. She needed to somehow get him on side, to buy her and Annie some time so Dylan had more of a chance of finding them. Needing to remove herself from the reality of the situation, Renee mentally separated herself from her body. ‘I never knew you had feelings for me… I’m so sorry I made you feel as though you never mattered.’
But Craig didn’t respond, his body now heavy against her as he began to snore. Renee spotted his gun, and her hopes soared. If she could manoeuvre herself without waking him, she might be able to grab it…
***
Racing through the darkness, Dylan held his shotgun in one hand and his phone in the other, with the map open on the screen. He was close now, so very close. He could see the outline of Craig’s machinery shed just ahead, the GPS indicating that it was the exact point Annie, and most certainly Renee, were. Dashing towards the entrance, he then dropped to his hands and knees on the dusty floor, making sure to stick close to the corrugated iron walls.
The GPS was now showing a huge red wave. It was saying he should be right on top of Annie, but she was nowhere to be seen. He pocketed the phone and crawled about, straining to see anything in the dark, to hear anything near him. There was no movement, but there was a muffled sound. Putting his ear down to the ground he swore he could hear music. Where the hell was it coming from? The distant wail of a siren stole the silence, making it harder to work out the source. Damn it! He’d told the copper to sneak in here, not with all guns blazing—the damn rookie was trying to be a hero. If Craig heard the siren, the girls would most certainly be plunged into a grimmer situation. Ripping his phone from his pocket, he dialled the cop station’s number, praying to God it would divert to the copper’s mobile number. Jake answered in one ring.
Dylan dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘What the fuck are you doing with your sirens on, Jake? I can hear you from here, God damn it, turn it off.’
‘From where, Dylan?’
‘I’m in Craig’s machinery shed, the bastard has the girls in here somewhere.’
‘How do you know they’re in there if you can’t bloody see them?’ The copper’s voice was tinged with annoyance.
‘It’s called a GPS. I’ll explain later.’ Dylan hung up the phone, leaving Jake to find his way here. He didn’t have time for this. It wouldn’t take them long, the road only a few kilometres from where he was.
Lying down on his stomach, Dylan peered beneath the machinery parked in there, a flicker of light capturing his attention from the far side of the shed. Something slithered in front of him and he recoiled. A python about two metres long moved past him, unperturbed by his presence.
Clambering over to where the tiny beam of light shot up from the ground, he discovered a metre-by-metre trapdoor behind a stack of hay bales. He began to shake with a mixture of hopeful anticipation and sheer terror at what he was about to find. Carefully, he grabbed the handle. Easing open one half of the double door, the music and light hit him in the face, followed by the smell of strong chemicals. With his frantic heartbeat pulsing in his ears he carefully positioned himself to climb down. He began to creep down the flight of steps, halting in a panic each time the step creaked beneath his weight, the music thankfully drowning out his arrival. He held his shotgun to his shoulder, ready to shoot, and swallowed down hard. What was he about to see?
Time seemed to move in slow motion. Five steps down he could just make out Craig’s legs sprawled out along the floor. Six steps down he could see Renee huddled beside him with Annie in her lap, but Annie wasn’t moving. Was she hurt? Worse? A furious rage coursed through Dylan as his finger began to lightly press against the trigger. Seven steps down, Renee’s fear-filled eyes finally met with his and the unspoken pleading within them made him feel as though his chest was about to explode. She mouthed, Annie’s alive, and he almost collapsed then and there. It was then he saw that Craig was asleep. Eight steps down he spotted the chains wrapped around Renee’s and Annie’s wrists and ankles, and a storm of red flashed before him as he lost all sense of morality. His finger began to press a little harder against the trigger. He wanted to shoot Craig right this second, but was stopped short by the fear that shrapnel might hit Renee or Annie. Nine steps down and three cautious steps forward, he bumped into a shelf and something went crashing to the floor.
Craig jolted to life and within a split second he’d spun sideways and had his revolver pointed at Renee’s head. ‘Come any closer, Anderson, and I’ll pull the fucking trigger.’
Renee hugged Annie closer, her body wracking with the sobs she refused to allow to escape her lips.
Dylan halted in his tracks, his shotgun still pointed at Craig. ‘Get away from them you sick son of a bitch,’ he roared.
Craig’s eyes turned to slits, the smile on his lips repulsive. ‘What are you going to do, Anderson? Shoot me? Surely you aren’t that fucking stupid… Or are you?’
He shrugged while fighting the compulsion to run to Renee and Annie’s aid. ‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not—you wanna try me?’
‘I ain’t gonna give you the satisfaction. By the way, just for the record, before I kill you, I killed Shelley too…’
For a few brief seconds, the shock of the revelation blurred everything around Dylan, and before he had time to react, Craig’s gun fired, the noise in the small room deafening. Renee screamed, her voice reverberating along with the gunshot. A searing pain shot through Dylan’s left arm as he fell to the floor. He’d been hit, but how bad? He didn’t have time to find out—the only thing he could focus on right now was saving Annie and Renee. Still down on his knees, he raised his gun and began to press the trigger, anger ridding him of any rationality.
‘I won’t let you take my life, and I ain’t fucking going to jail either,’ Craig spat, still grinning, before turning the gun on himself and pulling the trigger.
Renee screamed out once more as the thunderous sound ricocheted around the sm
all room. Craig slumped to the floor, lifeless, the gun still clutched in his hands, a pool of blood seeping out around him. Dylan stood, his shotgun now at his side.
Annie stirred in Renee’s lap. Time sped up, and Dylan’s heart slammed against his chest with every second passing. This evil man had stolen his beautiful wife from him? His poor darling Shelley—and all this time he’d thought it was an accident. With the shocking news, his brain flicked to autopilot—they weren’t out of the woods yet. The pain in his arm was excruciating but he couldn’t worry about himself right now. On his knees in seconds beside Renee and Annie, he called for an ambulance as he gathered Annie to him and checked her pulse. It was faint, but there. He wrapped his spare arm around Renee, huddling her to him, as he continued to assess Annie.
Renee checked his arm. ‘There’s so much blood,’ she cried. But Dylan was so focused on Annie he didn’t hear her. Tearing at her shirt, she pulled off a piece of material and then tied it around where blood was oozing from the wound.
Annie began to stir.
‘The bad man is gone, sweetheart. You’re safe now,’ he said, his voice breaking as he rocked her back and forth.
Annie mumbled something in reply and Dylan put his ear near her mouth so he could hear her. ‘I knew you’d come, Daddy. I love you.’
‘I love you too, sweetheart. You rest now, the ambulance is coming.’ He pushed her matted hair from her face, kissing her cheek over and over as he said her name. She was cold, so damn cold. Renee grasped an old painter’s blanket from beside them, wrapping it around herself, Dylan and Annie. Pulling the puffer from his pocket, Dylan asked Annie if she could take it. Annie nodded ever so faintly. He pumped it for her and Annie breathed it in as best she could. Then, having done all he could do, Dylan embraced Annie and Renee, hugging them both into him so there was barely an inch of space left between them all.
His reserve broke, and he sobbed from his heart and soul, for the life Shelley had lost, the two lives he could have lost, and for the pain and torture they had been through. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you both.’