In Safe Arms

by Christine, Lee

  Hoping she looked like any other tourist visiting the popular mountain village, Josie searched the overhead signs and made for the Health and Beauty aisle. She chose moisturiser, two large boxes of tissues and various personal hygiene items. Around in the next aisle, she added a three pack of ankle socks, a six pack of undies and some cheap flannelette pyjamas.

  Feeling a tad more confident, she passed two women chatting and headed to the “Mix-n-Match” section, an open area of the store displaying cheap, casual clothing. Tempted to grab what she needed and hightail it out of the place, she took her time browsing through the merchandise, behaving like any regular female shopper.

  Any regular female shopper not in protective custody.

  Over the next ten minutes, she selected a pair of leggings, a track suit and three tops. Enough stuff to get by, not enough to draw the attention of other shoppers.

  She was adding two pairs of shorts to her purchases when Nate rounded the corner with a fully laden trolley. Mindful of the cameras, and avoiding all eye contact, she moved to a display of paperbacks situated at the front of the store. Selecting a book, she pretended to read the back cover blurb as Nate progressed through the checkout.

  Hands clammy, she studied him from behind her sunglasses, saw him nod in response to something the checkout girl said. He looked relaxed, unhurried, like a thirty year old with a rostered day off, or a young father stocking up on the weekly shopping.

  He took out his wallet, and again she wondered about the boy in the photograph. She dropped the book into the trolley and selected another one from the shelf.

  ‘Excuse me.’

  Josie swung around at the sound of a female voice.

  Oh shit!

  ‘You dropped your money.’ A young, friendly looking woman with a child on her hip was standing a few feet away, pointing to the folded cash lying on the floor beside one Doc Marten boot.

  Josie’s heartbeat accelerated like a V8 supercar.

  ‘I would have picked it up for you,’ the woman said, as Josie hastily bent down and scooped up the money Nate had given her. ‘But this little tike’s given me a bad back.’

  ‘That’s okay.’ Somehow Josie managed to straighten her trembling knees and push herself upright, had no option but to make eye contact behind the plastic lenses of her glasses. ‘Thanks.’

  The woman didn’t move. She smiled at Josie, looked at the baby and said, ‘Say hello.’

  Nate was right. People really were friendlier in the mountains.

  The baby gave a big toothless grin, and Josie’s heart melted. She reached out and tickled the little boy’s tummy. ‘Hey there, buster.’

  The little boy laughed and wriggled while Josie scrunched the money into her palm. The woman looked nice, like the parents of the kids she taught. The sort of person she would have enjoyed talking to on a regular day.

  But not today.

  ‘Thanks again,’ she mumbled and turned away, wondering if the woman would recognise her when her face was splashed all over the newspaper.

  ‘I like your boots.’

  Josie froze, superficial nerves prickling the surface of her skin.

  She needed to get out.

  Now.

  ‘Thanks.’

  Before the woman could engage her in more conversation, she turned the trolley in an arc, tossed a wave over her shoulder and made for the bank of checkouts.

  Sweat broke out on her body as she lined up behind a woman pushing her credit card into the machine. Judging by the conversation, the woman’s daughter had gone to school with the checkout chick, and the pair of them chatted away, installing updates on each other’s lives.

  Wondering what Nate would make of her conversation with the young woman at the book display, Josie watched him head towards the exit.

  Then the woman in front moved off, and it was Josie’s turn.

  Without looking up, the operator doled out the usual customer service platitudes. ‘How’s your day been?’

  ‘Good, thanks.’ It was her standard bank/supermarket answer she used in Sydney. ‘Yours?’

  The girl muttered something just as inane, and Josie pretended to watch the cash register, as one by one the items were scanned and placed in a bag.

  She paid and exited the supermarket. Outside, she dragged in deep breaths of fresh mountain air and remembered to keep her head down. The plan was for Nate to get to the car ahead of her and pack the groceries in the boot. When she arrived, all they had to do was load in her stuff and get the hell out, minimising the time where they might be seen together.

  Two young guys sitting at a bench, smoking, wolf-whistled as she passed. Josie ignored them, eyes focused on Nate standing a few rows back in the car park.

  ‘Get in,’ he said, eyes focused on the smoking boys.

  He took the trolley from her, and Josie slipped into the passenger seat and closed the door. It took Nate under a minute to stow the bags in the boot and return the trolley to the parking bay.

  Then he was in the driver’s seat, locking the doors and gunning the engine, brown lips pressed into a firm line. The cabin of the WRX was more confined than the ute, and Josie found herself staring at his chest as he twisted towards her and braced his arm along the back of her seat. Peering over his shoulder, he reversed out of the parking space.

  Josie turned and looked out the window, wishing she’d brought along a water bottle. Her throat was parched, and her head banged from the tension. She needed fluid, not the hypnotic aroma of Nate’s aftershave messing with her senses.

  ‘What happened with that woman?’ he asked as soon as they were clear of the car park.

  She should have known he wouldn’t have missed it. ‘I dropped the money.’

  He shot her an angry glance. ‘You what?’

  Irritation flared, and she glared back. ‘Oh don’t look like that, you heard. What am I anyway, the perfect fugitive?’

  Eyes fixed ahead now, he held up his injured hand. ‘That’s a bit of a stretch.’

  ‘It’s your fault. I told you I had no pockets in my leggings. You should have let me bring my handbag.’

  He shook his head — as if she didn’t have a brain in hers. ‘Yeah, stellar idea that. Waltz in with a pink designer handbag the size of a small person. That things’s so heavy it’s a wonder it doesn’t set off the “unrestrained” alert when you plonk it on the passenger seat.’

  She screwed up her nose at him. ‘Oh you’re so funny — lol. You should be in P.R. not gang squad.’

  ‘Did you — did you just speak to me in abbreviated text?’

  ‘Oh get over it.’

  They were arguing, bickering, and Josie didn’t seem to be able to stop. ‘You know, you act more like forty-two than thirty-two. You need to get a life.’

  For a full five minutes neither of them spoke, a strained silence simmering between them. Finally, Nate jabbed at the radio, the cabin instantly filled with the slapstick routine of three sports jocks intent on shouting each other down over a new season rule that had been introduced to the game.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Josie saw Nate give an irritated shake of his head and turn it off.

  Great.

  A return to the strained silence.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, the car swept around a wide bend, and the “Three Sisters” came into view. Set against a perfect azure sky, the stunning rock formations glistened in the morning light.

  Josie caught her breath, recalling the story from the time she’d spent a week up here on school camp. According to aboriginal legend, three brothers from an opposing tribe wanted to marry three sisters, and a witchdoctor turned them into stone to protect them. But the witchdoctor was killed before he could reverse the spell and they’d stayed that way forever.

  Josie glanced at Nate again. He could have been sculptured from granite himself.

  ‘I. Don’t. Believe. This.’

  The resignation in his voice, coupled with the decelerating car, sent a f
resh wave of anxiety rushing through Josie. Up ahead, two highway patrol vehicles, lights flashing, were pulled onto the shoulder of the road, uniformed officers waving the cars ahead of them over.

  Josie shrank back into the seat. ‘Is it a road block?’

  ‘No.’ Nate squinted at the scene in front of him. ‘It could be an accident — no, it’s a Random Breath Test unit.’

  Josie spun around and peered through the back windscreen. ‘There are four or five cars behind us already.’

  Nate’s eyes shifted to the rear vision mirror. ‘It’s okay. I’m carrying my real licence and the car’s registered.’

  Warning bells sounded in Josie’s head. Annual road worthy inspections and third party insurance were mandatory before a car could be registered. ‘How do you manage that when you’re away?’

  Nate glanced at her. ‘I have someone who looks after my house, attends to the mail, that sort of thing.’

  So that’s why the house was clean, the lawns mowed. ‘Do they know you’re back?’

  ‘He will, the next time he comes by. I’ve closed the top left panel of plantation shutters in my room. It’s a signal I’m home and not to come in.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  The patrol officer had reached the car in front. He was leaning over, talking to the driver through the window.

  ‘An ex member of the force. Retired up here years ago.’

  ‘And you trust him? He understands your job?’

  ‘Yes, to both questions.’

  The patrol officer turned and looked straight at them.

  ‘Okay, he’s going to head our way any minute now. Say something, talk about anything that comes into your head. Act natural if you can.’

  Josie forced a laugh. ‘As in — last night I witnessed a murder, and this guy was supposed to kill me, but he didn’t — kind of natural?’

  Nate’s chest vibrated in an amused chuckle, though he kept his eyes fixed on what was happening up ahead. ‘You are such a brat.’

  ‘And you are such a bully.’

  ‘And you’re hangry.’

  Josie frowned. ‘Hangry?’

  ‘Angry at the situation and hungry. Adrenaline burns everything in your system. You’re probably suffering low blood sugar. Hangry.’

  He was right. She was angry at the situation, and she did suffer low blood sugar when she was busy and forgot to eat. Only when she felt the beginnings of a headache, like now, did she remember.

  ‘I thought you were angry because I spoke to that woman.’

  ‘I was. What did she say?’

  ‘She liked my boots.’

  ‘That’s not good.’

  ‘I know.’

  The highway patrol officer was checking the license of the guy in front.

  ‘Try not to look nervous. We’re just an ordinary couple, enjoying each other’s company.’ His tone turned dry. ‘Shouldn’t be hard, considering my personality.’

  ‘Yeah right.’

  Josie searched her mind, eye on the stocky highway patrol officer waving off the driver in front of them. ‘Um, er, okay, let’s see. Ah, you know what really annoys me?’

  ‘Besides me?’

  ‘Apart from you, yes. Those inane customer service enquiries they dole out, you know, “thank you for your patience”, or “how has your day been so far”. I mean, why bother, everyone knows it’s an empty enquiry, that the person really doesn’t give a shit.’

  ‘Keep going potty mouth, you’re doing well.’

  ‘What did you call me?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  ‘Well, what if one day you answered truthfully?’ Josie turned towards Nate, watching the approaching officer from behind the shield of her sunglasses. ‘What if you said, “well it’s only nine am, and frankly, if my day gets any crappier, I’d be tempted to throw myself off one of the Three Sisters?”’

  The highway patrol officer was at the driver’s door, his face at the open window. Unfortunately, he’d caught the last few words of her sentence.

  His gaze moved between Josie and Nate.

  ‘Everything alright here?’

  Shit!

  She had to fix this. Fast. Nate had risked everything to hide her identity from the Altar Boys. They couldn’t be brought down by the booze bus.

  ‘Yes, Officer. She leaned across the gear stick and smiled at him, sliding her hand onto Nate’s thigh and giving it a rub. ‘Nate’s a base jumper. We were discussing the Three Sisters.’

  The patrol officer peered at her hand on Nate’s leg, and then at Nate. ‘Can I have your licence, sir?’

  ‘Sure.’ Nate lifted a hand, holding the card like a cigarette, between his index and middle fingers.

  The officer took his time studying the licence. ‘Had any alcohol in the last twenty-four hours?’

  Nate shook his head, and the officer passed the Breathalyser through the window.

  ‘Count to ten, sir.’

  Josie silently counted along with Nate, and though he looked bored by the whole procedure, she could feel his quadriceps tensing beneath her fingertips.

  He got to five when the police officer stopped him.

  ‘That’s fine, sir.’

  The two men swapped test kit and licence.

  ‘You’re good to go.’ The officer peered at Josie again. ‘Take care, miss.’

  He stepped away and moved onto the next car.

  Nate closed the window and started the engine. ‘Base jumper?’

  Josie dragged her hand away, palm tingling from the heat of his hard thigh, hot from the flush she could feel creeping up her face.

  ‘I couldn’t think of anything else, and I remembered the climbing equipment in your garage. Sorry for the grope. I thought it might distract him.’

  ‘It worked — distracted me.’

  Josie shifted in her seat, face burning as Nate got the car up to speed again. Just her luck he’d think she was making another pass at him. And she so wasn’t. Granted, she’d snogged him once in a dark corner, but she’d been winging it just now. And yesterday’s faux pas in the garage had been an accident.

  ‘I thought you’d make a run for it.’

  Surprised, she turned to study his profile, only then noticing the light sheen of perspiration on his neck and forehead.

  He turned and caught her eye. ‘It would have been your best chance you know, with the police right there.’

  ‘I know.’

  A pause. ‘It must have crossed your mind.’

  ‘It crossed my mind. But I have a detective right here who knows more about the Altar Boys and what they’re capable of, than a highway patrol officer with a beer gut.’

  When he didn’t reply, she returned to admiring the scenery, breathing a little easier, relieved he wasn’t thinking about how she’d rubbed his thigh.

  Chapter 7

  10:30 a.m. Monday

  Nate couldn’t stop thinking of how Josie had rubbed his thigh, the firm stroke of her fingers through his denim shorts, her manicured, pale pink nails sweeping close to his…

  Shit!

  He’d gone rock hard and broken out in a sweat. And it had nothing to do with the highway patrol officer at the window, or fear she’d leap from the car.

  Somehow, he’d known she wouldn’t run.

  The remainder of the journey to Echo Point passed in silence, and while he now had his body under control, he decided not to press Josie about her conversation with the woman in the supermarket.

  It was enough she’d chosen to stay.

  She trusted him.

  For now.

  But would all that change once her parents arrived back in the country?

  He turned into the driveway, pondering his decision to bring her to his home town. There was no doubt it was in his best interest. He was Nate Hunter again, and if he were careful, there was nothing stopping him going after “O” from here. And he could morph back into Nate Jordan if the Altar Boys summoned him to church.

  When they summoned him to church. />
  But was it best for Josie?

  The alternative was to take her further away, somewhere far removed from Sydney, like Darwin or Perth. She’d be safer there, they both would, but the operation would be abandoned. Kennett would learn he was a fraud. And the Altar Boys wouldn’t forget he’d double crossed them.

  Neither he, nor Josie, would ever be safe in Sydney again.

  Back at the house, he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and set two places at the island bench, while Josie put her things in one of the bedrooms. He was unpacking the food purchases when a movement in the doorway caught his attention. She’d changed into green shorts and a black singlet, and with her hair pulled into a high ponytail, looked about seventeen.

  A jolt of awareness caught Nate by surprise for the third time in twelve hours. He’d have to be a monk not to notice how attractive she was.

  And he was no monk.

  He swung around and pointed to the meat pie, potato, peas and gravy rotating in the microwave. ‘Pull up a pew. Lunch is almost ready.’

  She padded across to the island bench and slid onto a stool, lifted her bare feet onto the rung. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘I know.’ The microwave beeped, and he transferred the meal onto a square white dinner plate. ‘Usually I can do better than this, but it’s an emergency.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  He set the plate in front of her. ‘Eat.’

  Obediently she picked up her knife and fork. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m not the one white as a ghost and shaking.’ He held up a cardboard box containing an identical meal. ‘Mine’s going in now.’

  She began eating, and by the time the microwave beeped again six minutes later, she’d polished off about two thirds of the meal.

  Nate filled two glasses with orange juice, and smiled at her near empty plate. ‘You sure can eat, princess, for someone so small.’

  Right away he knew he’d hit a nerve. She laid down her cutlery and the quick retort he’d been expecting didn’t form on her lips.

  ‘Hey, don’t stop eating because I said that.’ He searched his mind for a light hearted remark that would wipe the uncomfortable expression off her face. ‘I like a woman who can give her food a good nudge — as well as the alcopops.’