‘Mein Gott! What a mess,’ Carl uttered as Lisel came up to where Luke stood with Greta. He occasionally reverted to speaking in German when under stress. ‘Nothing is left except the vines.’
‘’Morning, Grandfather, morning Mother. I know. It looks bad but the vines are intact and the winery wasn’t badly burnt. Angie says that if the heat from the fire hasn’t disrupted the fermentation process too much it may be possible to save this year’s vintage.’
Carl shook his mane of white hair and said vehemently. ‘Whoever did this should be horsewhipped.’ He stopped for a moment, ‘No, worse than horsewhipped. What a stupid, wanton act of destruction!’ His troubled gaze roamed over what remained of the cottage and the Loongs’s caravan. ‘It’s a miracle anyone escaped alive.’
‘They did because of van Leeson,’ Luke admitted, though he was less than happy that Paul had been Carla’s saviour. He had just come from Paul’s property, seen and talked to Carla and, being sensitive where she was concerned, he’d noted a very special change in her. She had a certain glow where one might have expected her to be totally devastated. And he was intuitive enough to see how she kept glancing towards Paul, smiling, to notice their mutual body language. Something monumental had happened between them, he was sure of it. Had Carla realised she was in love with Paul? Was that the change? He’d seen women in love before and Carla was exhibiting several signs that betrayed her feelings.
As he had driven to Sundown Crossing he’d thought about the plans, and the dreams he’d had for himself and Carla, the suitability of a match between them and how pleased their mutual grandfather would be if it came to pass. He could, if he chose to, set himself up as Paul’s opponent for Carla’s affections but deep down, intuition told him it would be a fruitless task. She was too strong-minded to be easily swayed, especially if her emotions were already otherwise engaged. It was just as well that he hadn’t fallen too deeply under her spell.
He watched Lisel, who’d momentarily gone off to inspect the remains of the cottage, come towards them with a worried expression. Could she be concerned about Carla and Sam? He’d like to think she was having pangs of conscience over her dislike of Carla, but, equally it was difficult to accept that she might because in that regard she was like her father. Once either of them made up their mind on a matter, they rarely changed their opinion.
Shaking her head, Lisel proclaimed, ‘Luke this is dreadful. The Hunters, Angie and the Loongs have lost their home. Who could have done such a thing?’
‘The police have a lead, they’ll find who did it,’ Carl’s tone was confident. ‘If someone can do this to a small vineyard, for whatever reason, then every vineyard in the Valley could be vulnerable. That’s why they must find and arrest the culprit.’
‘That makes sense.’ Lisel looked pointedly at Greta and placed her hand on her father’s arm. ‘This is upsetting for you, Papa. Are you all right?’
‘Don’t fuss, Lisel, I’m fine,’ Carl answered testily. ‘I’m disappointed that’s all. Luke just told me that Carla and Sam will be staying with van Leeson till everything is straightened out. I wanted them to come to Stenhaus so we could take care of them.’
‘I agree with you, Papa, they should. Carla and the boy have been through a terrible trauma, they should be with family.’
Listening to Lisel, Luke’s gaze narrowed on her features only to find that they were an impassive mask. Such a turnaround in attitude from his aunt was nothing less than amazing. Where had the venom gone, the objection to Carla being in the Barossa, the raging jealousy? Her apparent change of heart made him think of an animal, the chameleon, who could change its colours to blend in with its surroundings at will. And there was something else, an expression in his aunt’s eyes, a coldness that was at odds with her empathetic words. Experience told him she was putting on a magnificent act; he’d seen similar mercurial changes in her at board meetings and in dealings with employees.
Lisel glanced at her watch and directed her words to Luke. ‘I’d better be going or I’ll be late for the ad meeting. When you come to the office, we need to talk. I think I’m overdue for a visit to several European grape growing areas, to get updates on promotions and advertising.’
‘Sounds like a good idea,’ Carl gave her suggestion his seal of approval.
‘Bye Papa and Greta, bye Luke.’ Lisel kissed her father and sister on the cheeks then walked towards her car. She would have just enough time to drop by Josh’s place and check that he’d gone before chairing the meeting.
Carla, dressed in clothes that had belonged to Paul’s fiancée, stood by the expansive glass window in Paul’s living room, gazing out over the timber deck to the view of the valley and surrounding bush. A dreamy smile played on her lips as she recalled the events of last night and how it had culminated in Paul’s proposal and their lovemaking. She still had to get used to the idea that she was going to be Mrs Paul van Leeson. After making love they’d talked about not rushing into marriage, to allow Sam to become comfortable with the idea of having a father again, something he would love. And she and Angie had to decide what to do with Sundown Crossing. Rebuild or sell it. Thank God she had kept up the insurance payments so, with careful planning there would be sufficient funds to rebuild, should they choose to. There was another thing too—with Paul’s proposal and what that meant, her life could be going to move in a different direction yet again.
With all that had happened, the Conrads’s betrayal, and the fire at the vineyard, she shouldn’t be this happy but she was! In some indefinable way, loving Paul and him loving her back made everything, even the fire—shocking as it was—seem okay. At this very moment he was at Nuriootpa police station delivering information on Walt’s fraudulent activities. And with regard to the fire, the two policemen who’d come this morning to interview them, had said they had a good lead, that the tyre treads with the green paint more than likely came from a heavy vehicle such as a truck, panel van or pick-up, and they were confident of making an early arrest.
Her thoughts turned to her grandfather and Greta who’d arrived at Paul’s as the police were leaving. She had seen tears of relief in their eyes when they’d all joined in a group embrace. Greta had tried to get her to agree to stay at Stenhaus—they had the room—as had her grandfather, and their disappointment had been obvious when she had refused. But home to her now was where Paul was and because he wanted her and Sam and Angie, as well as the Loongs to stay, she intended to do just that.
Down in the valley she could see her son playing with Su Lee and the two dogs. Both were relishing the day off school because neither she nor Kim had had the heart to send them off on the school bus. Besides, the children needed several sets of clothes, including school uniforms before they could go anywhere. Presently both wore their pyjamas and Sam had on a sweater she had left at Paul’s ages ago; it was way too big on him—not that he cared—and Su Lee had a jacket of Kim’s. Like many youngsters, neither felt the Barossa chill as the adults did.
She heard footsteps and turned away from the window. Angie had just come from town and the vineyard. ‘How are things?’
‘People in the Barossa are having a field day. The arson’s big news and there’s been a constant stream of folks coming by for a gawk. Several, not knowing the extent of the damage, left food and supplies. The O’Malleys,’ Angie took note of Carla’s blank expression and explained, ‘they’re the ones over the ridge with about six children. They’ve offered to find some clothes for Sam and Su Lee. Decent of them, I thought.’
‘It is. So, what about the vintage?’
‘I believe we’re going to be lucky, and isn’t that about time?’ Angie’s mouth screwed into a wry smile. ‘I’ve checked the vats, run a few tests. The fermentation is going as per schedule and doesn’t appear to have been affected by the fire’s heat. I’ll know more over the next thirty-six hours.’
‘That’s wonderful.’
Carla’s tone more than her words made Angie give her a more discerning once-over.
‘Okay, what gives? Considering what’s happened why aren’t you wallowing in the depths of despair?’
At which Carla did something that was most uncharacteristic, dancing around the coffee table until she came and stood right in front of Angie. ‘Can’t keep things a secret from you, can I? I’m in love! And when you’re in love all things, things you thought couldn’t be, become possible.’
Angie sighed, tried not to sound disappointed. ‘With whom? Luke?’
‘No, silly,’ Carla’s blue eyes widened then softened. ‘With Paul.’
‘Thank God. I’m happy for both of you but I was worried for about ten seconds.’ Angie moved forward to give Carla a hug. ‘I’m glad you’ve seen the light. You couldn’t have picked a better man than Paul.’ Then, winking, she added, ‘If I’d been fifteen years younger I would have made a play for him myself.’
Remembering last night, Carla’s cheeks tinted a delicate shade of pink. ‘We’re going to get married.’
‘Boy, I’ll say this for him, when Paul moves he moves fast.’
Carla’s flush deepened. ‘I can’t deny that.’ Suddenly she began to fidget, touching her face, running her fingers through her hair, moving about the living room tidying things as if a curious restlessness had come over her.
Intuitively, Angie recognised the symptoms of delayed stress. ‘You and Sam, and the Loongs, have been through a dreadful ordeal. It’s going to take time to get over it. Perhaps you should see a doctor, Carla, or a counsellor of some kind.’
Carla shook her head emphatically. ‘I’m fine. What I need is to keep busy and once Sam’s back at school I’ll do that. But,’ she glanced at Angie, ‘we have to talk about the future, Sundown Crossing’s future. Where do we go from here?’
Angie exhaled a long breath and hooked her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans. ‘All in good time, love. Let’s give ourselves a few more days to let things settle into perspective. Then we’ll decide what to do. Okay?’
Carla’s smile was one of grateful agreement. ‘Okay. I’m ready for a coffee. Want one?’
‘Of course.’
The two women moved in the direction of Paul’s kitchen.
Josh concentrated on the road ahead, not bothering to take in the countryside around him. He had been travelling since late morning, heading north-east towards Broken Hill and the border and now the sun was behind him as it lowered in the afternoon sky. His intention was to drive late into the night to put as much distance as he could between himself and the Barossa but his plan to buy that vineyard in Pokolbin had to be put on hold. He was shitangry about that. Lisel had commanded that he get out of Australia because, when his old pick-up was found, as eventually it would be, with the jerry cans still in the back, the cops, dumb as he considered them to be, would add two and two together and put out an interstate allpoints bulletin for him.
Instead of heading to the Hunter Valley he would head for Broken Hill then east through Nyngan, Dubbo and on to Sydney, put his money in the bank and get a letter of credit, then catch an international flight to…? He frowned furiously as the pick-up ate kilometre after kilometre of bitumen. Where would he go? Europe, the United States of America, South America? Hell, he shrugged, he could go wherever he wanted to, he was his own boss with no ties to any place or anyone.
He sped through the one-horse town of Mingary. Aware that the New South Wales border was only a few kilometres away he pushed the speedo up to one hundred and thirty ks per hour. That’s when he heard the wail of a siren behind him. Shit, police. Bleary-eyed from the constant driving he stared into the rear-vision mirror. Bloody cops. The bastards loved booking drivers, and he knew he’d been travelling well over the limit. Accepting his fate, he slowed down and pulled over to the verge of the road to wait for them to pull up behind him. Two officers got out of the vehicle and ambled towards him. Steeling himself for the inevitable lecture on speeding he feigned a bland expression as the taller officer went through the preliminaries of asking for his driver’s licence.
The officers exchanged glances as they read Josh’s name.
‘Would you step out of the vehicle, please?’ the one who’d introduced himself as Senior Constable Gregson, said.
‘What for? Gee, officers, I’m in something of a rush. Just book me and let me go on my way.’ When both officers’ features remained uncompromising, Josh shrugged, opened the door and swung his legs over the side of the seat to get out.
‘It’s not that simple, Mr Aldrich. Please step away from the vehicle,’ Gregson, he was obviously the senior officer, said. ‘There’s an APB out on this vehicle and yourself. We have orders to stop your vehicle and search it.’
‘Whatever for?’ Josh stopped the pretence of trying to be nice, his tone now having a belligerent edge to it as he moved away from the pick-up. Though he schooled his face not to show any emotion he was worried. If the officers were even half-efficient they’d find the cache of money hidden under the front seat. Then he’d really have some explaining to do.
‘Orders from Sergeant Bronson from Nuriootpa station, on suspicion of arson relating to a vineyard known as Sundown Crossing. The police in the Barossa found your other pick-up, with several empty jerry cans in the back of the vehicle, previously filled with some inflammable material.’
‘But I…’ All of a sudden he had what he thought was a stroke of genius. ‘My pick-up was stolen. That’s why I had to buy another one, you see. I’ve an important appointment in New South Wales.’
‘Did you report the vehicle stolen, sir?’ the one with Frankel on his name badge asked.
Josh scratched his head. ‘Um, no. I’m in such a rush. I forgot to. Besides, wasn’t that fire on Monday night? I was nowhere near Sundown Crossing. I was in Nuriootpa having a few beers. Check with the hotel. I had a bit of a biff with one of the blokes there.’
The officers exchanged glances again. ‘Be that as it may, Mr Aldrich, at present you’re wanted for questioning over that arson case.’ Gregson’s smirk was condescending. ‘You need to come back to the station and tell the officer in charge your story.’ He stood beside Josh, ostensibly guarding him, while the younger constable made a thorough search of the pick-up, the cabin, the luggage and other bits and pieces in the back.
Josh swallowed the lump in his throat as the cop held up his cache wrapped in plastic. The shit was going to hit the fan now and he began to mentally work on a cover story to explain the money.
‘This is a lot of money, Mr Aldrich.’ Gregson gave Josh a probing look. ‘I hope that for your sake you can explain why it’s in your possession.’
Josh eyeballed the taller officer. ‘Am I under arrest?’
‘Not yet. That will be decided by the officer in charge at the station, after you’ve answered certain questions.’
‘What about my pick-up? Can’t leave it on the side of the road for people to scavenge.’
‘We’ll organise a tow truck to bring it to the station. Lock the cabin. The vehicle will be safe enough till then.’
‘Bloody well better be or I’ll expect compensation from the police department,’ Josh grumbled as he was led towards the police car and assisted into the back seat. Lisel had told him what to do if the police questioned him. Say nothing. It was up to the cops to prove him guilty and keeping his mouth shut would make it that much harder to do.
Luke drummed his fingers on the top of his desk, an action he had, over the years, copied from his grandfather. He couldn’t concentrate on the work at hand, reading a lengthy, too-wordy industry report on the expectations of viticulture production over the next five years. His thoughts were focused on two people, Carla and Lisel. In his heart he had to admit that he had lost his chance with Carla because fate had decreed that she fall in love with Paul van Leeson. The disappointment inside him was huge. He was not the only one disappointed, so were his mother and grandfather.
Still, he understood the attraction between Carla and Paul, even if he didn’t like it. They had a good deal in common with each other
. And if he had to lose to another man better it be to Paul than someone else. The architect had been instrumental in tracking Walt Conrad’s mischief and getting evidence regarding the fraud Conrad had perpetrated against Carla and Angie, and it was being said that Paul had done a great service to everyone in the Valley in seeing that Conrad received his just deserts.
When he wasn’t thinking about Carla and what might have been, he was thinking about his aunt, pondering several vexing and serious questions. There was no doubt in his mind that her sympathy towards Carla after the fire was an act. But to what purpose? To impress Grandfather and himself, maybe. Or…he couldn’t hold back the thought, disloyal as it might be, any longer. Was it to allay any suspicion that she might have had a hand in the arson? The more he thought about the possibility the more it emerged as probable. He knew her vindictive nature too well to think otherwise.
A knock on his office door disturbed his concentration. The door opened to reveal his father. John came in and closed the door behind him.
‘Struggling with that report, I see,’ his father said with a grin.
Luke’s initial answer was a grimace. ‘It’s pretty dry stuff, as you well know.’ He watched his father sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. ‘What’s up?’
‘Thought you might be interested in knowing that the police have arrested Walt and Frances Conrad on fraud charges and I just heard from a source in town that they’ve found the pick-up used in the Crossing’s arson. It belongs to Josh Aldrich. Late yesterday afternoon police took Josh into custody before he crossed the border into New South Wales. My source said he had a huge amount of cash in his possession,’ John informed Luke. ‘Makes sense that Aldrich did it. He’s a mean-spirited bastard and he didn’t like Carla dumping him.’
Luke nodded in agreement and was quiet for several seconds. ‘Yes, but it’s hard to believe that Josh planned and executed the arson on his own. I believe someone with a bit of money pulled the strings, organised it.’
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