by Autumn Dawn
She suddenly realized that Nathan was talking to her, and she pushed thoughts of Rowan to one side.
"Does he smoke Crimson Stripe cigarettes?"
"No, he doesn't smoke at all, except the odd cigar,” she answered. “Why?"
"Probably nothing. A guy turned up in town asking questions last month. It was before you arrived so it was unlikely there was a connection but I just thought I'd ask."
"He knows I'm here. The phone calls,” she said. “What if he's on his way here right now? He could be watching us. He could.... “She bit off the thought that Malcolm Lord could turn up on the doorstep at any moment. He probably wouldn't do that. He would avoid a direct confrontation, especially as he'd already had to back down once when he'd gone up against her. No, he'd watch and wait and pick his moment.
"If he picks today, good luck to him,” said Nathan. “He won't get through me. And at least we'd get to bring this thing to a head."
"You don't know him, Nathan. He's ... I don't know ... manipulative. He knows how to play people to get what he wants."
Nathan shrugged. “He can play all he likes. He won't touch you or Elizabeth."
As if she knew she was the subject of their discussion, Elizabeth raised a wail that said, “I'm awake, come and get me". Camille smiled ruefully at Nathan. “We're lucky she slept this long. Probably because you gave her that bottle during the night. Thank you."
"You needed to sleep."
In Elizabeth's bedroom, the little girl was rubbing her eyes with fat little fists. “Hello, sleepyhead,” Camille crooned, leaning over the crib to pick up the warm, damp little girl. She wrinkled her nose. “Before anything else, I think you need a new diaper."
Cleaning the baby, she snapped a fresh diaper around her bottom before carrying her into the kitchen, where she grabbed a bottle of formula from the fridge with one hand and returned to her seat opposite Nathan. Elizabeth waved her arms and legs when she saw him, her mouth being too busy with her morning feed for a smile.
"I think she knows me now,” Nathan said, smiling at Elizabeth.
"Maybe she does."
"She doesn't look much like you.” He studied the child.
"But she looks like Verity.” Camille tried to smile but it was bittersweet. “My sister was a blue-eyed blonde. Gorgeous. A real party girl. If you'd seen her first you wouldn't have looked twice at me."
"Yeah. Noelene said something like that. Not that I'm looking for a party girl."
Camille wanted to ask him what he was looking for, but Elizabeth cried out as she lost her grip on her bottle. Camille put the bottle back in her mouth.
"Well, most men couldn't resist her. You had to see it to believe it. At parties, she only had to walk into the room and she'd be surrounded with drooling males. Other women didn't like her much, understandably."
"I understand that you weren't especially close,” Nathan said quietly.
"I never really understood her and I don't think she understood me. She had everything going for her but never seemed to be able to make the most of the opportunities in front of her.” Camille sighed, thinking of the jobs her sister had quit after a week, citing them as “boring", or the decent men she'd ditched because they couldn't afford the car or the apartment she wanted, like her first husband. “She couldn't understand me wanting to go to university or my desire to start my own business. We were just complete opposites personality-wise, but I loved her. She was my sister."
"Enough to care for her child as though she were your own."
"I feel like she is.” Camille glanced down at the blonde curly head that rested in the curve of her elbow. Elizabeth returned her look with her bright blue eyes. Camille looked back at Nathan and grinned ruefully. “I was a disaster at first. Verity just handed me this bundle and a bag with a few diapers and a couple of bottles and left me to work it out on my own. I had no idea what I was doing but we sort of worked it out together, me and Elizabeth."
"You said last night that she left the baby with you just before she died."
Camille thought of the last time she'd seen Verity, and felt the tears welling. “I feel so bad. After she married the second time, she just seemed to be moving in a completely different circle. She was suddenly very wealthy, mixing with socialites, millionaires ... We lost touch except for the occasional phone call. I thought that was the way she wanted it. If I'd known ... maybe I would have done something different.” And if she had done some thing different, maybe Verity would be alive today. “I didn't like her husband from the start, so maybe I would have done everything exactly the same, I don't know.
"I got a phone call out of the blue one day last year. She told me she'd just had a baby. A little girl. I flew to Melbourne and visited her at the hospital. Elizabeth wasn't even two days old, but I fell in love with her. The room was full of flowers and she talked incessantly about her husband and how wonderful their life was, especially now they had a child. She kept looking toward the door as though she expected him to show, but he didn't. Even by the end of visiting hours, he hadn't appeared."
A tear trickled down Camille's cheek. “I suggested she call him but she became very agitated. I just assumed she didn't want to disturb him at work. He's a well-known lawyer. I rang several times over the next few months, but she only returned my calls once and just told me she was busy with the baby. I sent presents for Elizabeth, but never heard anything. Then one evening last month, she just turned up suddenly on my doorstep with Elizabeth. No phone call, no nothing. She had a taxi waiting and only a few minutes to spare."
Camille clutched Elizabeth to her more firmly than she needed as she remembered Verity's sudden appearance. “She looked shocking. One side of her face was swollen and bruised, and she winced every time the baby's arms or legs touched her ribs. The worst thing was that she looked terrified.” She looked straight into Nathan's eyes. “I'd never seen my sister scared of anything before."
She looked down as she pulled the empty bottle from Elizabeth's mouth and propped her against her shoulder to burp her. “I asked her flat out if Lord had done it to her but she wouldn't say."
"Not Malcolm Lord?” Realization dawned on Nathan's face.
"Yes, you've obviously heard of him."
"Through colleagues who've come up against him. An arrogant prick but very talented at using the law to get what he wants."
Camille laughed grimly. “He's a bastard.” She patted the baby's back until she provided her trademark eruption. For once it didn't bring a smile to her face.
Nathan's face turned suddenly dark with anger. “And Lord put those marks on you.” Camille watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped his coffee cup.
She nodded. “Believe me, I got off lightly compared to Verity. Two days later I ‘saw’ her pushed to her death from a balcony, and when I rang her house, I was told her grieving husband was too distraught to talk to me after his wife's ‘suicide'."
"What did you do then?"
"Panicked,” she said wryly. “I didn't go to her funeral as I didn't want to leave Elizabeth. I was scared and didn't know what to do. He must have worked out I had her, and he arrived one night, demanding her. He was ... incandescent with rage. Livid. I was truly scared.” Her hazel eyes met Nathan's blue ones. “I could have understood it if he thought I'd been mistreating Elizabeth, but he had no reason to think that. I mean, I was her aunt and her mother had just died."
She frowned at Nathan. “His first words were ‘I think you have something of mine'. It was like Elizabeth was a possession and he was angry that I'd taken something of his. In fact, he didn't even mention her name."
"So what did he do?” Nathan's eyes hadn't lost their angry glitter.
"He pushed me into the door, and then grabbed my arms. When I tried to pull away he grabbed me around the neck, squeezing. I thought...."
She shuddered and broke off. “Fortunately my neighbor arrived home from work then and intervened. Lord just said I'd regret what I'd done, got into a car and was driven a
way. I collapsed on the doorstep—to poor Simon's horror.
He wanted to call the police but I stopped him. I knew I could create a bit of a stink about Lord assaulting me, but it would be easy enough for him to say he was provoked. I imagine that the courts would frown on a woman who denied a man his baby—especially a QC—but I knew I would never sleep again at night if I left her with him."
"You did what you had to do,” said Nathan simply.
She looked at him. “You're a police officer, you must know how it is. The truth is so real you feel you could reach out and touch it, but there's no proof. No motive even. I didn't even have Verity's admission that he beat her. All I know from firsthand experience is that he's capable of violence against women."
Camille felt like she couldn't sit still for a moment longer. She stood up with Elizabeth in her arms and opened the back door, breathing in the cool morning air. She heard the pad of Nathan's bare feet behind her, felt the heat of his hand through her robe against the small of her back.
"I rang Melbourne police after Verity died to tell them that she'd been beaten by someone. They said that her husband had confirmed she was suffering from post-natal depression and she'd already made several attempts to hurt herself."
Camille felt drained and rubbed her hand across her face to relieve some of the pressure that was building again. “That's how he'd explained the earlier bruising, and they didn't even seem to want to query the suicide theory. I didn't hang around for the result of the inquest but no doubt it would just have concurred with Lord. The courts would never suspect one of their own."
"So you headed here?"
"Not at first. I drove around for days in case he knew about this house. I went to Canberra and bought a new car. I wore that cheap wedding ring, thinking it might put anyone looking for me off the scent. After about ten days, I headed to World's End ... and the first person I encountered was a nosy cop.” She gave a half smile. “I was terrified that you suspected something."
"Well, you seemed really jumpy. I was convinced you were escaping from a bad marriage."
"I was ... my sister's."
Nathan took her spare hand, brushing his thumb across the knuckles. “Are you sure that it couldn't have been suicide? Noelene said that Verity had been a drama queen when you were kids, that she ran away from home and had a tendency to manipulate people."
"There's a big difference between running away from home and committing suicide."
"Maybe, but suicide is often just another form of escape."
Camille shook her head. “No. She was difficult, but she wasn't a quitter."
"So ... do you think it was murder?"
She thought for a moment. “I can't say for sure, except that there was intent in the way he pushed her. But whether it was pre-planned ... I don't know.” She shot him a look full of pain and rage. “Either way, though, he killed her."
She crumpled then, the tears dripping unheeded onto her robe. Nathan put Elizabeth on a rug on the floor and took Camille into his arms while she sobbed. She couldn't stop crying and in the end he picked her up and held her on his lap, while she sobbed and beat her fists against his chest until she was all cried out.
Her throat felt raw and she knew she must look a mess. She'd never been a pretty crier. She said as much to Nathan but he just laughed and held her closer. Finally, she wriggled from his lap and stood up. “I need to clean up,” she told him.
"Okay.” He gave her a sexy look which she returned with a watery smile. “If you need any help reaching the difficult bits, let me know."
* * * *
Camille let the water and soap stream down her body, sluicing away the ugliness of her sister's death. She washed herself all over, taking care with the regions that were still tender following her lovemaking with Nathan.
She stood under the hot downpour for longer than she needed, not wanting to get out and face the world until she rediscovered her equilibrium. Finally, the hot water ran out and so did Nathan's patience. He knocked briefly on the door and then came in.
There was lust in his eyes but something more tender too, and she let him wrap her in a bath sheet.
"Feel better?” he murmured.
She nodded, thinking he would make someone a wonderful husband one day. An ache grew inside her as she acknowledged it was unlikely to be her, unless he was willing to marry a woman behind bars. She wondered, not for the first time, why he wasn't married. He was the kind of man who was usually snapped up early—gorgeous-looking in an understated sort of way, a fabulous lover, nice to children who weren't his own, helpful, dependable. Not to mention the broad shoulders and great butt.
She wrapped a towel around her wet hair and began applying moisturiser to her face. She could see Nathan behind her in the mirror. He was saying something to her, but she couldn't hear the words. His image and hers were becoming hazy as the mirror went dark. The shadow of a giant bird descended. Its narrow eyes glinted coldly, the curved beak and talons a deadly combination.
Camille drew back from the mirror. She let out a cry as the huge bird shrieked, flapped its wings and rose above the ocean. It was headed for World's End. She felt a hard arm come around her to hold her upright as the sinister image disappeared from the mirror.
"Camille, for God's sake. Talk to me!"
"I'm all right. I just ... I saw him in the mirror. He's coming."
Nathan's eyes held hers. She could see the questions and the disbelief, but he only said, “We need to get moving. I think we should go to the station. You and Elizabeth will be safe there, and I need to check on a couple of things. We're going to find this bastard."
But Camille shook her head. “No,” she said. “We let him find us."
* * * *
Nathan argued with her as she dressed and got Elizabeth ready.
"At the moment, he's the aggressor and it's giving him confidence. If you go on the attack and start actively looking for him, he'll begin to feel like the quarry. It might make him do something stupid. And, anyway, I don't want you acting as bait."
"It's wasted energy. He wants Elizabeth and he wants to hurt me more. We know he's going to turn up. Let's just work out what we're going to do when he does."
"Well, I've got an idea about that,” said Nathan. “Guys like that doesn't go through life without making enemies."
"Well, if you're going to get something on him, make sure it's good. He has the money to tie things up for years. He's got the power to sway opinions, to crush anyone he wants. And if we lose, the result would be the same as if I gave Elizabeth up to him this minute. I'd never see her again and I'd never know if she was all right."
"Not everyone can be bought."
Camille raised her eyebrows at him as they walked out to their cars. “Well, the Melbourne police are eating out of his hand. They believe every word of bullshit he's fed them about Verity. They ... you have no idea what he's capable of. He could kill again. You, me. Doesn't matter to him if he gets what he wants."
"I know people who have no reason to doubt my integrity."
Camille stared at him. “But you know what they'll be saying behind your back. That you have climbed in my pants and now you can't see the wood for the trees. And Lord and his people will be fanning the flames."
Nathan started to argue but she held up her hand in defeat.
"All right. You know the system. But if things go wrong and it looks like Elizabeth will be given back to him, I want your assurance as a cop that you'll do everything in your power to protect her."
Nathan nodded. “If she goes back to him, I'll stay on his tail for the rest of his life."
Camille squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She was determined to win one small battle. “All right, then. Let's go, but we'll take separate cars. I don't want anyone to think you've arrested me."
* * * *
Nathan's young constables smiled at her when she walked in with the baby. Jason Lai rushed to find a comfortable seat for her, deeming the usual visitor ch
airs not good enough, and put the kettle on for tea. Camille sat in Nathan's office, looking around. The furniture was normal police issue—battered, old and gray or brown—and files overflowed from the cabinet onto the floor. There were a couple attempts at brightening up the place, but a coating of dust dulled the bright prints on the wall and the potted fern in the corner looked sadly neglected.
She jiggled Elizabeth on her lap as Nathan picked up the phone. He looked at her as he waited to be put through, but evidently the person wasn't there because he sighed and had to leave a message, stressing that it was urgent.
He glanced at Camille when he'd finished but didn't say anything, and dialed another number. This time she heard his low voice asking about a man who favored Crimson Stripe cigarettes. Camille wondered where he was going with that since she'd told him Lord didn't smoke, but he seemed pleased with the information he got, scribbling it down on a notepad.
He dialed another number and gave a number. He had to wait for a few minutes, but then replaced the phone looking pleased.
"Okay,” he said to her. “Looks like our guy with the cigarettes is a well-known Sydney private investigator. Frank Welch. Not exactly shady, but not too nice either—and possibly not too smart. Paid by credit for the ciggies he bought in Eden. Word is he's prepared to do anything if the price is right. What's the betting he's doing Lord's dirty work for him?"
"It'd be Lord's style,” Camille admitted. Elizabeth wriggled to be let down, so Camille unfolded her rug onto the floor and laid the baby on it with a couple of soft toys.
"I've got his plate number so I'll put in a request for traffic to keep an eye out for him in case he's still hanging around, although he's probably long gone now."
"What about Lord?"
Nathan hesitated. “I don't want to go straight to his office to find out where he is. It will only tip him off. I've put in a call to an old colleague working in Melbourne to see if he can ask around discreetly, but I'm waiting for him to call me back."