Bruce and Shane were busy shifting furniture into the middle of the rooms upstairs so they could continue stripping faded wallpaper in readiness for painting. Bruce had been his usual cheerful self, laughing and chatting.
She’d found Shane lurking around one of the upstairs rooms, his gaze darting into one of the rooms, his hand tight around a scraper.
“Something wrong?” She came up behind him.
He jumped, swinging around to frown down at her. “No.”
“Are you working in there?”
He shook his head, cast the room one last glance and strode back to the room Bruce was in, the sound of his scraper and voice soon coming out into the hallway.
Walking into the room he’d been hovering around, Barbie saw that Spencer was on the phone, his notepad in front of him, his computer set up. On the screen were the photos of the furniture he’d taken.
He turned as she walked in, and smiling, he said into the phone, “Here’s the lady of the house. Gotta go.” Clicking off, he beamed at her. “Patrick is emailing me the full amount for all the furniture tomorrow. We should have this all finished in the next few days if the price is agreeable to you.”
“Good to know.” Barbie glanced around the room. “In one weird way, I’ll miss this place because it’s been in the family for a long time, but on the other hand, it’s kind of creepy.”
“Because of the history?” Spencer nodded his understanding. “I’ve been in a lot of old houses, and a lot of them have sad histories. A lot of people died in the old days, medical conditions not being what they are today.” He ran his hand over the old desk his computer was sitting on. “Guess that’s why I love old things so much. If only they could talk.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing they can’t,” she responded. “Imagine what unsavoury stories they could tell.”
“True.”
“I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.” She left the room.
Passing the door where Bruce and Shane were working, she smiled at Bruce, who waved. Shane looked at her, frowning, lips pursed as though about to say something, only to look away again and start ripping at the wallpaper with more energy than it probably warranted.
One weird bloke, that Shane. If she remembered correctly from her chat with Old Man Parker, Bruce and Henry were born and raised in Peeron, but Shane had only arrived six months previously and mostly kept to himself.
Harriet Keller arrived for a back and shoulder massage. Barbie quite liked the woman, and admired her for openly proclaiming her love for Tommy, the local café owner, especially as she was fifteen years older than him. That had made her the talk of the town for awhile, right about the time Adam and Barbie had met again and provided more gossip, but as with all gossip, it was dying down.
It didn’t mean that Harriet had it easy, especially with the frigid conditions between her and Tommy’s mother, who called her a cradle snatcher under her breath every time Harriet walked into the café.
“Oh mercy, no wonder I’m so bloody tense, but what can I do?” Harriet moaned as Barbie worked on a knot in her shoulder.
“It can be difficult,” Barbie replied diplomatically.
“Tommy wants me to work in the café with him, but his mother is impossible.”
Barbie tsk-tsked and worked the knot.
“Do you know how impossible she is?”
“I’m kind of new here, too.”
“Right. I forgot. Anyway, I’ve decided not to work there.”
Personally, Barbie thought that was a wise decision but she refrained from verbalising it. One thing she’d learned in her job was to listen but not advise. That was a slippery slope she had no intention of starting down.
“The motel is looking for a cleaner, so I’m applying for the job. The lady doing it presently is retiring. This way I can earn money, see Tommy, and steer clear of his mother,” Harriet announced.
“Have you done cleaning before?” Barbie asked, moving down Harriet’s spine with supple fingers, feeling for knots on each side.
“Actually, yes.” Harriet paused. “Does that surprise you?”
“People do a lot of different things.”
Harriet continued to talk, and Barbie listened and worked on her, massaging and smoothing, feeling the woman gradually relax. It was a longer appointment than booked, but seeing as Harriet was the last customer of the day and genuinely needed to de-stress, Barbie spent more time on her. By the time she was finished, Harriet was smiling, in a much better mood, and had already made another appointment.
Cleaning the table down, Barbie glanced out the window in time to see the carpenter’s truck go down the drive and out onto the highway. Was it that late already? Her heart gave a painful thud when she saw Bruce get in the passenger side of the van and it drove off.
Oh shit, everyone was going and she was alone in the house. She’d lost track of the time!
Heart in her throat, she shoved the towels in the basket. Her mobile rang, and picking it up expecting to hear Adam’s voice, she began, “Sorry, I’m coming right now and-”
“Barbie? It’s me, Patrick.”
“Patrick?” Barbie quickly sprayed disinfectant on the table. “Something wrong with the stuff?”
“Stuff?”
“You know. The furniture and a hundred other things. I tell you, Spencer had a fit when he saw those broken dolls.” Chuckling despite herself, Barbie picked up the cleaning cloth.
“Spencer?” Patrick repeated, puzzled. “Who is Spencer?”
She started wiping the table. “You know. Spencer. Your assistant.’
“I don’t have an assistant named Spencer.”
Barbie froze. “You don’t?”
“No. Listen, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but he doesn’t work for me. That’s why I’m ringing you, to apologise for not coming out sooner and to tell you that I’m personally coming out to view the house and contents.”
A chill went down Barbie’s spine.
“I’ll be there in two days. I can’t wait. And Barbie?”
“Yes?” She swallowed.
“Don’t let whoever is trying to sneak past you get his hands on anything from the house. I’m suspecting it’s all very valuable.”
“Patrick-”
“Have to go, sugar, I’m off to a very elite auction tonight and I’m already running late. I’ll see you on Friday.” He rang off.
Slowly, Barbie flipped the phone shut. Spencer. Who the hell was Spencer? What did he want?
“What a shame,” a voice said from behind her.
Before she could turn around, a blow hit her hard on the back of the head and everything went black.
~*~
Hanging up the phone, Adam frowned. Barbie wasn’t answering her mobile or the house phone. She possibly still had a customer, but he’d seen the carpenters’ utes and the painters’ van go through town on their way from the old Declan house. She knew she had to be out of there at the same time as the workers. He’d have to go over there and pick her up on his way home.
Grabbing the car keys, he headed out the back of the police station to where his car was parked.
“Hey! Adam!”
Adam turned to where Brandon was standing in the doorway. “I’m dropping by the Declan house to check on Barbie.”
“Before you do, Shane’s here. Wants a word with you.”
“Can’t it wait?”
Shane walked out from behind Brandon. “No, it can’t.”
“Look, whatever it is, you can tell Brandon. I’ve knocked off and-”
“It’s to do with your girlfriend and that antiques bloke.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “What about them?”
“I don’t know who he is, but that Spencer isn’t who he’s making out to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard him talking about that furniture in the Declan house, the other stuff, and I’m telling you he doesn’t know jack-shit about them.”
“
And how would you know that?” Brandon queried.
“My cousin owns an antique shop, and he trained me enough to keep an eye out for possible bargains while working in old houses. I know more about antiques than that Spencer bloke.”
A bad feeling shot straight through Adam. Unlocking the car door, he got in. “I’m heading out to the Declan house now.”
“Adam, hang on-”
But Adam didn’t wait to hear whatever Brandon said. He left the station and shot out onto the highway. He kept trying Barbie’s mobile, then tried the Declan houseline. Nothing from either in answer.
Swearing, he’d just hung up when Brandon rang him. “Sarge is on his way.”
It wasn’t far to the Declan house, but right at that moment it felt like hours. When he approached the turn into the driveway, relief swept through him, only to ricochet back gut-wrenching concern when he saw one car parked outside - Barbie’s.
She was there alone. Where was Spencer?
Pulling to a halt, he ripped on the hand brake and jumped out, barely refraining from slamming the door. His instinct to run into the house calling for her rode him hard, but his training took control.
It was his woman in there and he wasn’t going to risk her getting hurt. If nothing was wrong he was going to ream her a new one for scaring the shit out of him and disobeying. But if something was wrong….
Quietly he made his way around the back of the house, his gut clenching when he saw Spencer’s car, the bonnet partially showing from behind the partially pulled down shed. Moving stealthily around the corner of the house, he scouted the area, checking windows and doors, making sure to stay out of sight.
The rose buses caught his attention. Two of them had been chopped out roughly, the ground disturbed as though someone had been digging.
Coming up onto the veranda, he tried the door, finding it unlocked. Entering, he moved stealthily through the hallway, grateful that he knew which floorboards creaked.
Voices came from upstairs, but he heard the sound of a car pulling up at the front of the house. Quickly, he went to the front door, stepping out and holding his finger up to his lips in warning as Sarge got out of the patrol car.
The older man nodded, closing the door quietly before pulling the gun from his belt and approaching the house.
Meeting Adam at the front door, he followed, being careful to tread in Adam’s footsteps.
Silently they went up the stairs, one slow step at a time, keeping against the wall.
As they reached the top, Spencer’s voice became clearer, the words chilling Adam to the bone even as he and Sarge approached the room from which it came.
“You are such a dumb bitch. You really thought this place was haunted.”
Silence. Either Barbie was wise enough to keep her mouth shut and not antagonise Spencer, or… He couldn’t even bare to think of the alternative.
“Mind you, I tried. Penny wouldn’t give up and leave, kept staying here even when I was poking around outside at night. She thought it was ghosts, too. Can you believe it? An exorcist? I’m telling you, my Great Uncle did a wise thing in not marrying her. The woman was nuts.”
Holding the gun pointed downwards, Sarge peered carefully around the door before pulling back his head and giving Adam a reassuring nod, which almost made Adam drop to his knees. Barbie was alive, but going by the grimness of his boss’s expression, the situation wasn’t going to be an easy one.
Sarge held up one hand in a gesture to stay still.
Unable to see what was happening, Adam could only clench his hands and trust Sarge.
The sound of furniture dragging. “You scare a little easier, or you did the last time. I thought you’d run, but no, you came back for that dumb cat. He sauntered into the room, saw me and tried to jump onto the windowsill, only to scrabble at the glass and fall down. Next thing I know, you’re running up the stairs. I had only seconds to get into the wardrobe and back into the crawl space out of sight. But I sure scared the shit out of you after that.” Spencer laughed. “All those bangs and crashes, throwing those dolls, and you screamed like a banshee and ran. Mind you, I have to admit, coming back in for the cats, now that took guts.”
Sarge glanced back at Adam, held up three fingers. Adam nodded, tensing.
One…
Two…
“Still gonna kill you, though, bitch.”
They burst through the door, Sarge in the lead, Adam right behind.
Spencer spun around from where he stood above Barbie with a length of steel pipe in his hand. “What the fu-”
Sarge took him down low and hard, while Adam wrenched the pipe from him and flung it aside. Within seconds Spencer was on his belly with his hands cuffed behind his back, spewing swear words and almost frothing at the mouth.
Adam wouldn’t have cared except Spencer had been threatening Barbie, and when he saw the blood running down the side of Barbie’s head, all that red soaking into the blonde hair, his heart started pounding.
“Christ! Barbie!” Dropping to his knees at her side, he reached for her, his hand shaking for the first time in his life. Everything he’d ever learned fled, for one wild second he didn’t know where to touch, where to hold, where to look. “Oh Jesus. Oh baby.”
Vaguely he heard Sarge talking in his phone, calmly giving orders, heard Spencer still swearing, but his whole focus was on Barbie.
Sitting with her back against the wall, blood slipping down from her hair to soak into her blouse, she whimpered, “My head hurts, Adam.”
“I know, baby.”
“Help me.” She looked up at him, and fear gripped him when he saw how unfocussed her eyes were.
Oh Christ.
She clutched onto him, hands shaking violently, seeking reassurance from him.
It was that which galvanised him into action, his first aid training coming thankfully to the fore. Later he would swear it was divine intervention, but right then he could only operate on automatic.
Because if he didn’t, he’d kill the bastard lying cuffed on the floor.
Because if he didn’t, he’d go into a full-on panic seeing his beloved Barbie bloodied and obviously suffering from concussion.
Because if he didn’t, he’d be failing the one person who meant more to him than his own life.
In the distance came the wail of sirens, a welcome sound.
Coming up on his knees, he searched carefully through her hair, finding the deep cut. Knowing head wounds bled a lot, he whipped off his t-shirt and pressed it to her scalp in an attempt to stop the blood flow.
“Ow.”
“Easy, baby.” He held the t-shirt firmly against the wound, seeing the blood soaking through almost immediately. Oh Jesus, where’s the bloody ambulance?
“Adam, how is she?” Sarge barked out.
“Concussion. Head wound. She’s lost a lot of blood.” One hand holding the t-shirt, he smoothed his other gently across Barbie’s pale cheeks, his gut clenching when her eyelids fluttered. “Barbie! Barbie, stay awake. You stay awake. Are you listening?”
She blinked. “Yes.”
“Talk to me,” he ordered, deliberately making his voice stern when all he wanted to do was gather her close and howl like a baby.
“My head hurts.”
“I know, baby. I know. Can you remember what happened?”
“He hit me.”
Christ, he was going to kill the bastard! Adam shot a furious look over his shoulder to find that Sarge had Spencer up on his feet and was shoving him out the door into Brandon’s hold.
Sirens sounded in the yard, voices.
“Hang in there, baby,” Adam said softly, only to snap, “Barbie!” when her head started to nod.
“I’m here.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Adam?”
“Good girl. I’m here, too.”
Her bloodied fingers wrapped around the wrist of the hand he had at her cheek. “Don’t let me go.”
God, his heart was going to break. “Never, baby. Never.”
/> “Good. Okay.” Barbie leaned her head back against the wall, her breaths coming in shallow pants. “Adam...Adam, I can’t see properly.”
The hand holding his heart squeezed tight, threatening to rip it right out of his chest. He was amazed when his voice sounded so steady, so reassuring. “Its okay, Barbie. I’ve got you. Just stay awake, okay?”
“Adam.” Matt ran across the room, dropped to one knee on her other side.
Hamish, the other ambulance officer, came in behind him carrying a stretcher.
“Not going on it,” Barbie said as soon as she saw it.
“They’re just taking you to-” Adam began as Matt carefully removed the bloodied t-shirt to check the wound.
Agitated, she pushed at Matt’s hand.
“Barbie, it’s me,” he said soothingly. “It’s Matt. I’m just checking your wound, love, okay? Let me check it for you.”
“I’m not going on the stretcher.’
“Okay,” he said in that calm, soothing tone that was thankfully working on Adam’s shattered nerves as well. “Let me just check this wound, get something on ii, all right?”
Hamish was busy setting out a dressing pack, handing Matt the things he needed.
Barbie clung to Adam’s hand with a rapidly weakening grip, and Adam was almost beside himself wanting to shake Matt and scream at him that something was wrong. Instead, what came out was a low, “Matt.”
Matt nodded without taking his gaze from Barbie’s head. Taping down the bandage, he said, “All right, love, we’re going to just lay you on the stretcher and- Adam, catch her!”
Adam caught Barbie as she simply flopped sideways.
Oh Jesus, she was unconscious, and now he could see the pool of blood behind her on the floor. Oh Christ, it was edging out from under her legs. So much blood. So much blood!
A hand tapped his cheek sharply and he looked up to see Matt looking him right in the eyes.
“Don’t you go ape-shit on us right now,” Matt ordered sternly. “Barbie needs us, all of us, but you the most. Understand?”
“Okay. Yes. Right.” Shaking off the terror clawing at him, Adam supported her, lowering her to the floor with Hamish’s instructions, watching as the stretcher was put in place beside her.
The ambos moved fast and efficiently. Before long Barbie was in the back of the ambulance, Adam sitting near her, clutching her hand while Matt monitored her vital observations.
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