Runaway Lies

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Runaway Lies Page 7

by Shannon Curtis


  Dom closed his eyes. He remembered Darcy’s insistence on looking after herself, going it alone. She could have been killed. Instead, a young cop died in her place. Either way, it was a crappy thing to happen.

  ‘So do they think it was an accident, after all?’

  Alex nodded. ‘The van was old, and it was parked there for a couple of days, plenty of time for a leak to slowly build.’

  ‘Any prints?’ He opened his eyes and gazed unseeingly at his desk, waiting for Alex’s answer.

  ‘No. It was a significant blast. All the doors are peeled back, looks like a giant tin opener attacked it. The explosion took out some of the windows on the ground level of the hospital, and the reception area. Some people got a few cuts, but no major injuries, apart from the one fatality.’

  ‘Christ.’

  ‘There is nothing to suggest it was anything more than a tragic accident.’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Well, seeing as there was a fatality, there will be an investigation. I’m going to request the firies look after the crime scene. Forensics investigate all kinds of scenes, and they’re good, but Fire and Rescue only handle fire investigations. They’re the experts. If they suspect foul play, they’ll call in homicide.’

  Dom started tapping furiously on his keyboard. ‘Well, I definitely want experts on this. I don’t want anything messed up, or missed. We need to find this bastard. Who do we know?’

  Alex snorted. ‘If there is a bastard. It could also just be an accident, Dom. But – I’ve already made some calls. Laney is on her way up to support the investigation at the scene. She’ll let us know if anything we can use comes to light. I’ve also asked Bern to see what he can find out.’

  Dom’s eyebrows rose. ‘It pays to have contacts.’ Alex was a former federal agent, and his sister, Delaney, was an arson investigator for the New South Wales Fire Investigation and Research Unit, while his younger brother, Bernard, was a detective on the New South Wales Police Force. In fact, the whole Knight clan was involved somehow with law enforcement. Except for Eric. Dom still wasn’t sure what the youngest Knight brother did.

  Alex shrugged. ‘Family’s got to be good for something, right?’

  ‘You’re lucky,’ Dom said quietly. ‘Family is…special.’ He wished— Well, it didn’t matter how hard he wished for that. There was no way that particular wish would ever come true.

  Alex grimaced. ‘Ah, man, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘No need to apologise, Alex. How are your siblings?’ Dom quickly diverted the focus away from that dark hellhole.

  Alex sat down on the deep-set leather chair opposite Dom’s desk, gazing at him for a moment, as though deciding whether to take the bait. He nodded briefly. Bait accepted.

  ‘They’re fine. Frustrating, but fine. Laney is doing well, Bern seems to be taking his new role very seriously, Mac is still in Afghanistan, Fi is prosecuting some big case, so we don’t get to see her much at the moment, and nobody knows what Eric is doing.’ Alex shrugged. ‘But hey, if we don’t know, we can’t testify, right?’

  Dom gave him a crooked grin. He envied his friend. He’d gotten to know the Knight family over the past three years. Attending one of their dinners was a little like trying to sit still in a hurricane: lots of conversation and action swirling from all different directions, until you were finally swept away by it.

  ‘Tell Laney thanks from me, and let me know if anything comes of it. In the meantime, let’s focus on Ava’s car.’ He sighed. While he’d divorced his wife nearly a year ago, they’d been separated for much longer. She’d changed, after the twins, changed into someone almost unrecognisable from the attractive, vivacious woman he’d fallen in love with and married. Still, despite all the arguing and manipulation, he’d never wished her dead, had never imagined her not being there for the kids.

  Alex nodded. ‘The police have pulled the GPS, and are checking to see if they can retrieve any data. I’m going to try and retrace Ava’s trip, see if we can figure out where someone had access to her brake lines. The forensics guys have estimated a time window of when the lines would have been cut, and when her brakes would have been affected. I’ll let you know what I turn up. Hey, how’s Darcy?’

  ‘She’s okay. Shaken up, though. She’s resting.’

  ‘Good. She’s going to need a lot of that.’

  ‘I need to look after her, Alex. Need to make sure she’s safe.’

  ‘I know.’

  Dom eyed his friend. ‘I want this guy.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘He attacked my family.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Nobody does that, Alex.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I have to protect them, Alex.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘I’ll do whatever it takes.’

  ‘That, I don’t need to know. Remember. If I don’t know, I can’t testify.’

  Darcy stood hesitantly in the foyer. She had no idea as to the layout of the house. Like the second level, the ground floor had hallways branching off in different directions. Did she just wander around until she bumped into someone? Dominic had made it clear she was here as his guest, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trespassing.

  It was mid-afternoon, and she’d slept fitfully until the sun had started its westward descent, and shone directly into her room. She’d woken up stiff and sore on a bedspread damp with tears. She’d needed the sleep, though; it had boosted her reserves, given her a chance to calm herself after the horror of the morning, to assess her situation. An opportunity to tell herself to buck up and stop feeling sorry for herself.

  Two months. That’s all she had to do. Stick it out for that long, then hopefully – fingers crossed and crucifixes kissed – everything would be all right.

  A tantalising scent, something warm and delicious, crept down one hallway, and she followed it. Normally her mouth would be watering at the appetising smell. She pressed her good hand to her stomach, to try to calm its gymnastics. She couldn’t bear the thought of food, at the moment.

  Her sneakers squeaking softly on the marble tiles, she followed a bend in the hall and stopped. She found herself in a large open-plan area. The living area looked remarkably comfortable, with squat, well-padded couches upholstered in a red and gold brocade fabric, and mismatched timber tables that seemed casually situated, yet purposeful and convenient to the rest of the furniture. A solid timber bar sat in a corner and a wrought-iron light fixture hung from the ceiling. A comfortable reading corner had been set up near French doors that led to a paved patio, and a rolling vista of hills and valleys spread beyond, a play of light and shadow as the setting sun turned the grasses golden. Painted portraits hung on the walls, tastefully framed and strategically placed, the light fitting above each extinguished for the moment.

  She shifted. One ‘wall’ of the room was made up of masonry columns, artfully leading into an informal dining area that was again elegant and reserved, yet comfortable. She wandered through the arched doorway. Ornate brass vases stood in recessed shelves, luscious greenery tumbling over their rims. She stared wistfully at the plants. She was blessed with a black thumb, and had killed many a potted plant, but these miniature shrubs were blooming, healthy and well cared for. A gas fireplace graced one end of the rectangular space, with a padded seat running along the opposite end.

  She crossed to the large dining table, and couldn’t help reaching out to touch the wood. It was dark and scarred, wearing its age with grace and pride. It bore the marks of years of casual dining and the patina of polished care. She found it hard to imagine the great Dominic St James sitting here, laughing as he shared a meal with Jonah and Julia. Her lips lifted in a smile as she retreated from the room, following the delicious aroma further along until the hall opened into a kitchen that had her gaping. It was heaven.

  Large, arched, timber-framed windows allowed natural light to bathe all corners of the room. French Provincial,
eat your heart out. Darcy gazed at the granite-topped island in the middle, the matching bench tops that gleamed with care and love, the white timber cabinets. And the woman who turned from a pot on the eight-burner stove.

  ‘Oh, hello, Darcy. How are you feeling?’ Gertrude tapped the wooden spoon on the rim of the pot before setting it on a spoon rest to the side. She turned and beamed at Darcy.

  ‘Uh, I’m fine, thanks,’ Darcy murmured, taking in the granite and timber. Her grandmother would love this kitchen. Just thinking of her made a lump form in her throat.

  ‘Why don’t I fix you something to eat? You slept through lunch – you must be starving.’

  Darcy grimaced and shook her head. ‘No, please, don’t worry, I’m fine.’

  Gertrude eyed her hand, and Darcy realised she was still trying to calm the storming butterflies in her stomach. Gertrude nodded. ‘Upset tummy? I’m not surprised.’ She held up a finger. ‘You’ve been through so much, and I have just the thing. I’ll make you a cuppa.’

  Darcy watched as the spritely woman strode over to the kettle and flipped it on. She opened a cupboard above her head, then shot Darcy an apologetic look over her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, would you mind?’ She gestured to the cups.

  Darcy hurried over. ‘No, of course.’ She reached up and pulled down a white porcelain cup, placing it gently on the bench and reached again. ‘You’ll join me?’ she asked Gertrude.

  Gertrude blinked, but quickly replaced the surprise on her face with warm pleasure, and nodded. Darcy picked up a second cup.

  ‘Now, you go sit down and I’ll bring them over.’ Gertrude waved her over to where five tall stools clustered around the island bench top.

  ‘You don’t need to wait on me,’ Darcy protested, ‘I can still do a few things.’ This woman looked like someone’s grandmother, and Darcy felt guilty at being treated like a special guest.

  ‘Go,’ Gertrude said, her tone firm. And just like a grandmother, Darcy couldn’t argue with her. She made her way over to the bench and took her seat.

  ‘Where are Julia and Jonah?’ she asked as the woman prepared the tea.

  Gertrude smiled. ‘They’re sleeping, the little darlings. They’ve only just turned four, so this whole adventure has tuckered them out.’ The housekeeper clucked as she shook her head. ‘Kids can be so resilient. You just watch. In about half an hour they’ll come down and want afternoon tea, before they go play outside.’

  Darcy smiled. ‘They’re troopers, all right.’

  Gertrude nodded. ‘It’s so terrible, what happened. They’re lucky to be alive – thanks to you.’

  Darcy replied with what was fast becoming her standard response: ‘I only did what anyone else in the same situation would have done.’ There were times when she’d done much, much worse.

  Gertrude eyed her for a moment, before shrugging. ‘Still, I think you’re very brave.’

  Darcy refrained from making any comment, although the praise didn’t sit comfortably with her.

  Gertrude placed the cups on the bench top and then had to climb up onto the stool. ‘Oh, I think Dominic makes everything in this house big and tall just to watch me climb, the rascal.’

  Darcy’s eyebrows rose as she lifted the steaming cup to her lips and blew on the tea. The comforting scent of camomile wafted around her, like a bear hug. Dominic? A rascal? It was such a quaint term for him, and quaint wasn’t something she’d use to describe the dark, sexy, enigmatic man.

  ‘I take it you’ve looked after Dominic for some time, then?’ she said politely, trying to act as though she wasn’t completely fascinated by the man.

  Gertrude nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve worked for the St James family in one role or another since I was nineteen.’

  Darcy nearly choked on her tea. ‘Seriously?’ she croaked when she stopped coughing. She estimated Gertrude to be somewhere in her late sixties.

  Gertrude chuckled. ‘Yes. I worked for Dominic’s father, and now I work for Dominic.’

  Darcy’s eyes widened. Wow.

  A door at the other end of the room opened, and an elderly gentleman shuffled in. Gertrude turned.

  ‘Ah, Roland. Did you hear the kettle whistle?’

  ‘You know that’s like a siren’s call to me, Trudie.’

  Gertrude laughed as she hopped off the stool with the agility of a person half her age, and crossed to the kettle. ‘And here I thought you were coming in to see me. Darcy, this is my husband, Roland. He’s the caretaker for the homestead. We’ll introduce you to our son, Patrick, later. He’s the property manager.’

  Darcy smiled as the older man winked at her, and she rose to help Gertrude with the cup.

  ‘So you’re the lass who pulled our Jonah and Julia out of the car, huh?’ Roland ran his hand in between his belt and shirt, straightening his appearance as he approached her.

  ‘Uh, yeah,’ Darcy said.

  Roland cast his eye up and down her frame, then nodded. ‘Good job,’ he said, patting her uninjured arm before walking around her to the bench. He rubbed his hands together. ‘So, Trudie, you know I can’t drink my tea without a biscuit. What have we got today?’

  Darcy’s shoulders sagged with relief at the switch in attention.

  ‘Oh, Roland.’ Gertrude waved her hand at her husband as she crossed to a door that opened to reveal a massive walk-in pantry. ‘You know the doctor said to watch your cholesterol.’

  ‘I’ll watch it while I eat my biscuit,’ he said gruffly, and Darcy hid her smile as she sipped her tea. The elderly couple argued good-naturedly, and she enjoyed the moment, observing their interaction, the winks, the slight touches they didn’t seem to realise they shared, the smiles.

  A clatter of footsteps had them all turning to the hall as Jonah launched into the room, followed by a tousle-haired Julia clutching a stuffed toy and sucking on her thumb. They both looked a little wide-eyed, a little panicked, and Darcy realised they’d just woken up and immediately sought company.

  ‘Darcy,’ Julia squealed, and ran towards her, arms open.

  Darcy hopped off her chair and knelt down to receive the hug, wincing as Julia pressed against her arm and shoulder. She quickly hid her discomfort, smiling as Jonah waited impatiently, shifting from one foot to another until Julia relinquished her hold and he could step in. Their instant affection brought tears to Darcy’s eyes, and she had to blink a couple of times.

  ‘Hey, you two, how are you doing? Did you have a good sleep?’ Her voice was husky as she sat back on her heels to look them in the eyes. Julia still looked pale, and Jonah’s eyes were shadowed.

  ‘I didn’t wake you up,’ Julia whispered.

  Darcy wrinkled her brow briefly in confusion before smiling back at the dark-haired girl. ‘No, you didn’t, sweetie.’

  ‘I didn’t sleep. I just rested,’ Jonah informed her. ‘I never sleep.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Darcy asked, and met Gertrude’s gaze over the top of Jonah’s head. The older woman winked.

  ‘Someone has decided he’s a big boy now, and doesn’t need the daytime nap,’ Gertrude informed her.

  Roland snorted. ‘No, he just rests with his eyes closed.’

  Jonah nodded solemnly. ‘I don’t even sleep at night.’

  Darcy feigned surprise. ‘But don’t you feel tired?’

  ‘No, I use my superhero powers. I never get tired.’

  ‘I didn’t wake you up,’ Julia said, this time louder.

  Darcy nodded. ‘I know, it was very good of you to let me sleep.’

  ‘Daddy wouldn’t let me wake you up,’ Julia said earnestly. ‘He said you needed your beauty sleep.’ She clasped Darcy’s face between her chubby hands and looked at her closely. ‘I told him you didn’t need beauty sleep,’ she whispered, and Darcy smiled. Then Julia frowned. ‘But maybe you do,’ the girl admitted, and Darcy started to chuckle as Gertrude exclaimed and Roland let loose a belly laugh.

  ‘Thanks, Julia. I think.’ Darcy rose to her feet.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Jonah said
, his tone quiet as he climbed up onto the stool Darcy had vacated.

  ‘Me, too,’ Julia said, and Roland lifted her up carefully to sit her gently on a stool next to her brother. Darcy couldn’t help but notice their subdued manner, and the haunted look in their eyes. She hoped that a return to normalcy would help them process the trauma they’d been through.

  Roland pulled out another stool for Darcy to sit on, and she watched as Gertrude put a plate of lamingtons on the bench. She tried to remain quiet, to observe the family gathering – and it was a family gathering. There was no denying the love shared between the children and the elderly couple. But kids have a way of dragging you into their world, and Darcy found herself peppered with questions, which she tried to answer at the speed with which they were delivered, laughing as the conversation started to zing in different directions.

  ‘Let’s play, Darcy,’ Jonah said, his face covered with desiccated coconut and smudges of chocolate and cream. A spark of warmth flared to life as Julia slid her hand within Darcy’s larger one.

  Darcy’s mouth opened. She’d forgotten what it was like, being around kids, and just sitting with two four-year-olds for half an hour had proved how exhausting they could be.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think Darcy’s in any shape to play, Jonah,’ Gertrude warned the boy, and Darcy smiled when he whined.

  She jerked her chin down to her sling. ‘I might not be able to do a lot of playing at the moment, Jonah, but maybe you could show me around outside?’

  ‘Oh, me, too,’ chirped Julia.

  Roland rose to his feet. ‘Well, if you’re taking Darcy for a tour, I’d better come with you so you don’t get lost.’

  ‘I won’t get lost,’ Jonah said, frowning.

  ‘Well, maybe I’ll come with you so I won’t get lost,’ Roland replied.

  Julia giggled as she held on to Darcy’s hand. ‘You won’t get lost.’

  Roland winked. ‘Not if I have you with me.’

  Mark could feel the veins throbbing in his head as he watched the news report on his iPad. Damn, stupid incompetents. He strode over to his office door and closed it quietly as he pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and pressed the speed dial code. How the hell was he going to get out of this mess if every so-called damned professional kept screwing up? What the hell had happened to professional pride, to taking care to do a job well, for Pete’s sake?

 

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