Runaway Lies

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Runaway Lies Page 10

by Shannon Curtis


  Alex cocked an eyebrow at her theatrics. ‘So, it was an accident?’

  Laney frowned. ‘Uh, not quite.’

  Alex frowned back at her. ‘Not quite? Is that the official finding? Not quite an accident?’

  ‘No, but look, it’s easier to understand if you see it.’ She turned back to her computer and opened a video file. ‘We got this footage from the CCTV camera at the side of the main hospital building, and this one from the front doors.’

  Two windows appeared on her computer screen, and she hit play. Alex leaned down to watch as PC Jack Ellison walked out to Darcy’s van, inserted the key and turned. The explosion was horrific. The camera view from the side of the building shuddered and blurred, before coming back into focus. The main entrance camera captured the whole scene, including Jack Ellison’s body being flung across the car park.

  Alex and his sister were silent for a moment, then he swore under his breath. ‘That’s gruesome.’

  ‘I know,’ Laney said quietly. ‘His death would have been instantaneous.’

  ‘Small mercies. I still don’t understand what I’m looking for, though.’

  Laney tapped on her rollerball, and the footage rewound frame by frame. ‘I know, we missed it the first dozen times, too.’ She cued the film to the point where the police officer was opening the door, played it, then immediately froze the screen.

  ‘Okay, see here?’ she said, pointing to the screen. The van faced the main entrance, and she indicated the front window. She played, rewound, played. ‘There is no interior light going on.’

  Alex made a face. ‘Do you know how old that van was? I’m surprised it made it past rego inspection.’

  Laney held up a finger, smiling. ‘Uh, we thought of that, too.’ She opened up another video file. ‘Which is why we went looking for earlier footage.’

  Alex watched as Ellison parked the van and climbed out, then went to the back door and pulled a few times before the door finally slid open. He reached inside and pulled out a duffel bag that Alex instantly recognised as belonging to Darcy. The officer then closed both doors and started to walk towards the main entrance. Laney froze the footage, rewound until she got to the frame of Ellison opening the door.

  ‘See. Light on.’ She tapped on the keyboard and pulled up the other file, so that both could be viewed simultaneously. ‘And here, light off,’ she said, using the mouse to point on the screen. ‘Light on. Light off.’

  Alex gazed at the screen. ‘Okay, I see it. What does it mean?’ Laney had been doing this job for nearly four years, and he thought she sometimes forgot those around her weren’t as expert at this stuff as she was.

  ‘It means the light worked before, and then it didn’t.’

  Alex took a deep breath, praying for patience. ‘I got that part, what is the “not quite an accident” explanation?’

  Laney swivelled in her chair to look up at him. ‘Once we knew where to look, it didn’t take long to put the pieces together. Someone tinkered with the light. When the car door opens, it completes a circuit, and the light goes on. If the wires are tampered with, and the bulb is removed, the circuit still works when the door opens and acts like a match inside the van. Add to that a leaking gas tank, and you have a bomb just waiting to explode.’

  Alex frowned as he met his sister’s gaze. ‘So you’re saying…’

  ‘That van didn’t blow by accident. It was definitely arson.’

  CHAPTER

  10

  Darcy clutched a book in the crook of her arm as she paused in front of the family portrait hanging on the wall. In the picture, Dominic stood at the rear with one arm around his wife, the other holding a very young Julia. The stunning woman at his side held Jonah. Darcy’s focus was first taken by the kids. They were so young, their cheeks chubby and flushed, lips split in grins that revealed the spaces yet to be filled by teeth. Jonah’s and Julia’s smiles were full of innocence and happiness, not darkened by the grief and fear she saw in them now. She sighed. She hoped they would get back to that happy state.

  Her gaze drifted to the adults in the picture. Dominic looked relaxed and composed, his lips lifting at the corners, revealing a glimpse of even white teeth. Darcy’s own lips lifted in response. Even the great Dominic St James could fall victim to the forced smile for a photo. She glanced at the woman by his side, and her smile faltered.

  Ava St James was a beautiful woman. Her blonde hair was tied back in a seemingly careless French braid, her bone structure was delicate and fine, her build slender. Her smile was poised, her head angled to show off her profile. Her smile didn’t quite reach the shadows in her eyes, though. Darcy sighed. She was hauntingly beautiful, and so young. Too young to die and leave behind such sweet children. She wished she could have saved her, too.

  ‘Wow. I forgot I had that picture here. It’s amazing what you don’t see even when you pass it every day.’ Dominic’s voice interrupted her reverie, and Darcy turned, wincing at the pull of pain in her shoulder. Darn. She hadn’t heard him approach. For a big man he could move so quietly, so fluidly. Like a stripper. She blinked. Oh, that was so inappropriate. Sexy, but inappropriate. She blinked again, trying to shut down the fantasies springing to life in her mind.

  She hadn’t seen him since dinner, when he’d left to put Julia and Jonah to bed. Darcy had helped Gertrude clean up after the meal, despite the woman’s protestations, and had then trawled through the books in the family room until she’d found one to read. She was on her way back to the lounge when she’d been distracted by the photo gallery.

  ‘Is there any news?’ Darcy asked quietly. The search for Ava had turned to a recovery phase, and as yet her body was still missing, almost a month after the accident. Dominic didn’t speak often of her, and never around the children. Occasionally she’d watch the late news with Gertrude and Roland, but the media had moved on from the story, and there weren’t many updates. She couldn’t imagine how the situation must be affecting Dominic. Julia occasionally had nightmares, and still climbed into Darcy’s bed every other night. Jonah, though, didn’t talk at all about his mother, and would occasionally snap at his sister, or any of the adults around at the time. He would disappear for long stretches, resulting in searches of the property until they found him hiding in one hidey-hole or another. Darcy had gotten into the habit of sitting quietly with him, and drawing at the children’s little art desks. She’d noticed, though, that he was spending more time in the panic room, hiding from his sister.

  Dominic grimaced. ‘Nothing. The police are looking to refer it to the coroner.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So am I. When I find the person responsible…’

  Darcy blinked. ‘You think it wasn’t an accident?’ This was news to her.

  Dominic met her gaze, assessing her for a moment. ‘Her brake lines were cut.’

  ‘What do you mean, cut? As in before, and not during the accident?’ Darcy gaped. Oh, hell. Was Ava’s death her fault, too? No, wait. So many factors would have to be orchestrated for that to happen. Paranoia was setting in, she was second-guessing everything. She had to remind herself that sometimes she wasn’t responsible for every nightmare. Hell did not necessarily revolve around her.

  ‘I mean,’ Dominic stated slowly, ‘that her brake lines were cut, and caused the accident.’

  But the kids were in the car. She faced him fully. ‘Are you saying someone tried to kill your family?’

  His eyes darkened. ‘Yeah. Someone has been making threats, but this was the first instance where he actually did something.’

  ‘What kind of threats?’

  ‘Just basic stuff, really. He’s sent letters, made calls…’ Dominic shrugged. ‘But the tone and language in the letters was getting stronger. He tried to sabotage a business deal with a Japanese company, but was unsuccessful.’

  Darcy frowned. ‘Still, to go from threats on paper and over the phone to actually sabotaging Ava’s car – that’s quite an escalation. Are you sure it was intentio
nal?’

  Dominic nodded. ‘Yeah, the forensic report confirms it, so the investigating officer informed me yesterday. The lines were cut in such a way that she would have had a very slow decrease in function from her brakes over some considerable distance.’

  Darcy glanced back at the picture on the wall. For a moment, she imagined what it would have been like for Ava St James, realising she’d lost her brakes, was losing control of her car, with her children in the backseat. She shuddered. The poor woman must have been frantic. Darcy had been frantic, and had had absolutely no connection to the occupants of the car. Ava would have felt so helpless, so scared, and if Darcy knew anything, it was feeling helpless and scared. She frowned. She was surprised by the connection she felt to a woman presumed dead.

  ‘I’m just sorry I’ve placed you at risk, too,’ Dominic murmured, his arm sliding along to rest lightly on her good shoulder. He was being careful with his contact, considerate of her injury. His touch was warm, seeping through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. For once, she didn’t startle. Her breath sighed out between her lips. This time there was no jerking away, but rather a melting into his touch. His scent teased her nostrils, something dark and woodsy. Her heart beat faster. He was like a wall of heat against her side, and she just wanted to— Whoa. What did he say?

  ‘What was that?’ she asked, trying to ignore the distraction of his touch. ‘Risk?’

  Dominic sighed, and pulled her closer to his side. She was sure he was just trying to be comforting, but she didn’t feel comforted. No. She was beginning to feel quite hot, actually.

  ‘I was in two minds to tell you, but I think you need to know. Alex called me earlier. We don’t think your van was an accident.’

  Her gaze lifted to meet his. His face was close, and she could see the bright colour of his eyes, with their mesmerising variations of blue and silver. No, she wasn’t going to go goo-goo eyed at him again, damn it. Where was her dignity, her backbone, her… She frowned. Not an accident?

  ‘Wait, you think it’s related to you?’ She tried to school her features into an expression of mild curiosity – hard to do when she was trying to disguise a serious case of hot-for-Dom – oh, and a smidge of guilt.

  ‘Well, we’re still waiting for the reports to come back, and that’s going to take some time, but I think whoever sabotaged Ava’s car may have also been responsible for the van.’

  Darcy blinked. What convoluted logic could he use to support his reasoning? ‘Uh, maybe it was just an accident,’ she suggested quietly. Please, believe it was an accident. If they thought it was anything more, they’d investigate. If they investigated, they might uncover her lies.

  But was letting Dominic think he was in some way responsible for her present situation fair?

  She dropped her gaze. Of course not. Bloody hell. A year ago, she abhorred deceit. She’d always prided herself on her honesty. Now, it seemed everything she said and did spawned more lies. But if they found out the truth… Well, they just couldn’t find out the truth.

  ‘We don’t know anything for sure, just yet,’ she said. At least that wasn’t a lie.

  Dominic rubbed his hand absently over her shoulder. Did he realise how distracting his touch was? Was he driving her nuts on purpose? She was attracted, yet afraid he’d uncover her truth. Gee, that was so screwed.

  ‘Okay. But until we do know for sure, I think it’s best you stay with us. Here, let me show you something,’ Dominic murmured, and she found herself gently herded along the hall, his warmth and strength a pleasurable yet unavoidable force. She tried to hide her curiosity. What did he want to show her? His etchings? His bedroom? What he could do with that fine body?

  He paused in front of another picture on the wall. Darcy followed his gaze. Oh. Another family photo. The picture showed a very young Dominic with a little girl and a middle-aged couple. She couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the young Dominic and Jonah, and how much Julia looked like the girl in the photo.

  ‘That’s my sister, Jenny.’ His expression softened as he gazed at the picture.

  ‘Julia looks a lot like her,’ Darcy commented. She tried to remember what she could about Dominic’s family, but drew a blank. She knew there was some story, some sort of accident… All she could recall was that they’d died when he was a boy.

  Dominic nodded. ‘Yeah, she does.’

  Darcy transferred her gaze to the couple. ‘Your parents, I presume?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He inhaled, and his hold on her shoulder tightened. ‘I want you to know that I take the safety and protection of my family very seriously,’ he said, his voice quiet. He turned to her. ‘You said you didn’t have any family to go to. What happened?’

  She kept her gaze glued to the picture of the smiling family, but her hand rose to toy with the long silver chain around her neck. She’d lied to them, wrecked their lives, that’s what happened to them. But telling Dominic the truth would lead to more that she couldn’t afford to share. She hated this, hated the lying, and Dominic was being so nice, so caring. She couldn’t tell him everything, but she could tell him a little.

  ‘Uh, my mother died in a hit and run,’ she said. ‘I was really young. Mum liked to go jogging early in the morning, and one morning, she didn’t come home.’ Darcy took a deep breath. At least this part wasn’t a lie. That morning was etched into her brain. She and her brother, still in their pyjamas, watching TV, waiting for Mum to walk in the door and organise breakfast for them. She’d been nine, and her brother, Hugh, was eleven. Dad was on night-shift, due home any minute. Only, he didn’t come home on time, and neither did Mum. Her brother had finally told her to get ready for school. He’d organised cereal and milk for breakfast, and they’d sat and watched TV, waiting for Mum or Dad to come take them to school.

  The cartoons had finished and the morning chat shows had started before the key turned in the lock. Dad walked in, his face grey. Darcy knew instantly that something was wrong. Her father was still in full uniform, his helmet on top of his head. He was supposed to leave the helmet and coat at work, she’d thought. He removed the helmet as he knelt in the hallway, and Darcy remembered the clatter it had made on the wooden floor as he sobbed into his hands, sitting there on his knees.

  She and Hugh had run up to him, hugging him, and it had taken some time before Dad could tell them that Mum wasn’t coming home. It had been several years later that she’d learned her father had been in the very crew called to respond to the emergency where his wife was the victim.

  She blinked as Dominic leaned against the wall to gaze at her.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Darcy. Did they catch the driver?’

  She nodded. ‘Yeah, when he tried to repair his car.’ But finding the culprit hadn’t made her feel any better. Her mother was still dead.

  ‘What about your father?’

  ‘I lost him about a year ago.’ It wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the truth – it was the grey area that had become her life. She knew the assumption he would make from her words, though.

  ‘Any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘No. Not anymore.’ Another grey moment.

  Dominic sighed beside her. ‘I know what it feels like, being alone.’ She looked up at him, and his gaze was so tender, so kind. ‘Not having anyone around to share your worries, or your laughs. I know.’ His voice was smooth like velvet as he tried to offer her comfort.

  He had it all wrong, and yet he had it so right.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked him, her voice soft in the hallway.

  He folded his arms. ‘When I was twelve I went away on a soccer camp,’ he said, speaking just as quietly. ‘When my friend’s father dropped me home, I found them.’

  Her blood slowly iced over in her veins. ‘Found them?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘Uh, yeah. Found them. Home invasion. Some…’ the muscle in his jaw flexed, ‘guys broke in. They killed them.’ He straightened, looking up at the family photo, his eyes glistening as he gazed at his little sister. ‘S
he was just nine years old,’ he said, his tone bleak.

  Darcy’s eyes itched with unshed tears. ‘Oh my God, Dominic, I’m so sorry.’ She reached for his hand. He grabbed it, his grip tight.

  ‘All for whatever they could carry,’ he said.

  His features were lined with pain as he turned to her. The emotion in his eyes was so raw, so confronting, she almost looked away.

  ‘And I almost lost my family again,’ he whispered, and she finally saw the fear, the anxiety he’d hidden. He’d gone through hell when he’d found his murdered family, and the car accident must have triggered so many dark, gruesome memories.

  Instinctively she reached out to him, trying to ease some of the pain. Her good arm rose to his shoulder. ‘It’s okay,’ she whispered. ‘It’s okay.’

  He pulled her to him, his arm sliding around her waist, holding her close against his frame. ‘It’s okay,’ she kept whispering as she smoothed her arm down his back. He tucked his head into her neck, and took deep, shuddering breaths. They stood like that for a while, giving each other strength. A tear trickled down her cheek. God, the agony he must have gone through.

  He finally cleared his throat and lifted his head. His eyes were dark, determined.

  ‘When you saved my kids, it wasn’t nothing,’ he said, and she cringed inside at the memory of her tactless words from the hospital. ‘It was everything. I’ll do anything to keep them safe, and I want you to know, you say you don’t have family – well, you’re wrong. You’ve got us, now. We’ll keep you safe.’

  He brushed his mouth lightly across hers, a tender kiss, a gossamer-light caress of the lips. Or at least, that’s how it started out. She returned his kiss, at first driven by sympathy, and a need to absorb some of his pain. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her against him, and suddenly she had a handsome man in her arms, kissing her, sympathy forgotten, replaced by something far more potent.

  Dom had only meant to be reassuring. As soon as his lips met hers, reassuring went out the window – he simply wanted more. She tasted of the berries she’d had for dessert and something hotter, sweeter, like a lazy summer, an intoxicating blend that had him angling his head for more.

 

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