For almost a minute he stood at a distance, watching her, almost scared by what he saw. His vivid, laughing Elly sat thin and subdued, neither moving nor speaking. His colourful Elly was in a loose jumpsuit, hair pulled back in a tight band. She seemed defeated, alone despite her family’s presence, less his untamed tigress than the kicked puppy he’d once seen in her. There was little trace of the impudent woman who’d come to him in cuffs, laughing in the face of his starchy disapproval. Her head lay on her grandmother’s shoulder. Rick stood behind her, his hand on her other shoulder. She held the hand of a dark, pretty girl—her cousin Kara, he guessed—who could never have eclipsed Elly a few months back. Most men would think Kara outshone her now—but she was still his Elly, who’d risked her life to save him.
‘Elly!’
He had no need to repeat himself. Her head snapped up, eyes zeroing in on him. Her skin paled to a sick shade. His heart contracted at the terror in her eyes.
‘No. Not you. Not you! Turn around. Walk out of here. Run. Now!’
‘No.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘You can’t go. I won’t let you leave me!’ Good one, Jepson. See her for the first time in months, and order her around. ‘Elle, darlin’, please, can’t we talk about this?’
Her eyes closed when she heard the loving nickname, but he caught the flash of pain in the coffee depths. ‘There’s nothing left to say. Please, if you ever cared for me at all, go!’
He blinked. Of all the greetings he’d envisaged, this wasn’t one. ‘Can’t you forgive me for letting you down? Do you hate me so much?’
‘Hate you? You idiot,’ she hissed, ‘I’m trying to save your life! If Danny sees you—’
He almost closed his eyes. Yes, thank God, it was still there, the love that would sacrifice everything for him. Now it was his turn to show his love in return. ‘He thinks we’re just foster brother and sister. He won’t—’
Hysterical laughter interrupted him. ‘He won’t now. Not now!’
He blinked. ‘What—?’
‘Just go!’ she cried. ‘I almost got you killed last time!’
‘Elly, you did nothing to hurt me. You’re the one who saved my life after he shot me! You have to stop taking the rap for what Spencer—’ As he approached her, he received a shove so hard he fell into a chair.
Rick stood over him, fists clenched, an aggressive glint in his eyes. ‘You jerk. You didn’t tell me you’d knocked her up before she left. You’re going to marry her now, or I’ll break both your arms.’
‘Ricky, stop it. I told you it was me,’ Elly hissed, with a flash of her old fire, but she remained half-hidden behind the café bench, and the girl who held her.
‘Good try, sis, but you’re a pathetic liar. I’m pretty sure he was there, too.’
Adam staggered to his feet, feeling the wind knocked out of him in more ways than one. ‘Knocked up?’ His stunned gaze settled on Elly. ‘You’re pregnant?’
She drew herself up, lifting her chin and looking at him steadily with shimmering eyes. Pride and pain and haunting uncertainty—and love, so much love. ‘Aunty Hat didn’t tell you?’
He shook his head. ‘We’re having a baby?’
Throwing off her grandmother’s and the girl’s hands, Elly got to her feet. She waved Rick aside. The fullness of her belly was unmistakable.
‘So what are you going to—’
‘I said back off, Ricky,’ Elly snapped. ‘This is between Adam and me.’
He stood frozen. An impatient airport passenger pushed past him, knocking him over. He got to his feet, and started walking to her. Another passenger put a suitcase in the space between tables in front of him, and he walked right into it. He barely noticed as Rick, now laughing at him, helped steady him—his whole focus was on Elly.
‘We’re having a baby?’ he repeated, feeling stupid.
‘Two, actually.’ She still looked wary.
‘Twins?’ he croaked. Would his voice ever return to normal?
She looked at him as if he was stupid. ‘That’s what two babies adds up to. I wouldn’t be this large at three months otherwise.’
He moved closer, absurd joy and pride combating inside him. More inevitability. Of course Elly was having his children. Everything he’d been too young and stupid to dream of. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you go now.’
‘I have to. Don’t you see?’ The look in her eyes turned pleading. ‘If Danny sees me pregnant, he’ll connect it to you.’
‘They’re my children. You’re staying if I have to force you with a court order,’ he snapped. He fished an envelope from his pocket and pushed it into her hand. ‘Sign this, and we’re legally married—but we’re getting married again, Elly-May, this time in front of everyone, and forever. Do you hear me?’
‘I imagine half the airport heard it,’ she replied, in a voice of ice. ‘What a romantic proposal, Detective Sergeant Jepson. Is this how you wooed your first wife?’
He couldn’t help grinning, even as he acknowledged her pain with a tender kiss to her cheek. ‘You know I’ve always been a tactless sod. Ah, Elle, don’t you know I—’ Then the sixth sense that had saved his life more than once made him turn. ‘Elly, sit down again. Hide it.’
But Elly was already looking beyond him, eyes wide, face pale. Her mouth worked, as if she would throw up. ‘Mr Spencer.’
A scent touched Adam’s nose, expensive, woodsy and masculine. Success in a bottle.
He spun around. The white-haired man in the impeccable suit he’d noticed more than once as he’d searched the airport for Elly stood behind him, his burning eyes fixed on the loose jumpsuit she wore, the slight bulge at her belly proclaiming her impending maternity.
The man nodded, a slow smile growing.
‘Ah, good girl.’ He held out a packet. ‘There’s no need for you to leave Australia, Miss Larkins. No need at all. After the wedding, my grandson will no longer be a problem for you. He’ll be in a safe facility, and you’ll live at Gundawin with me.’
Elly stepped past Adam, facing Danny’s grandfather as she had the grandson months ago: head high, showing no fear. ‘Why will Danny no longer be a problem?’
‘You know why, Miss Larkins. Daniel will be safe, but will hurt no one else until the day he dies. You and my great-grandson will be safe at Gundawin. He will be nowhere near you.’ Jeremiah Spencer’s cold eyes glimmered, but the storm clouds beneath were held in with absolute self-control. It was a look Adam had seen before, in his years as an inner-city cop. Tainted blood and mind. Was he even aware of his problems, or had he spent his entire life blaming anyone and everyone else for his insane moments?
Wherever Jeremiah Spencer had hidden Danny away, nobody would ever find him. Being right, being in control, was everything to this man. The old man cared nothing for his grandson. The ultimate narcissist, everything in life related only to his wants and needs—even his poor, suffering only grandchild.
Adam glanced at Rick, and saw the wheels turning in his friend’s head. He’d obviously had a plan for dealing with Danny Spencer, not Jeremiah, and was playing catch-ups in his head. They needed to know what the hell was going on, and where Danny was right now—nearby with an arsenal of weapons, or locked away for life. With a dozen private security guards surrounding Spencer, the airport police no doubt looking for Danny instead of this old man, and the family to think of, the two of them alone had to wait for backup.
Give us a few minutes, Elly. Stall Spencer. String him along.
But for once, Elly didn’t seem to be on his wavelength. ‘I won’t take your money, Mr Spencer. Yes, I’m pregnant, but Danny is not the father.’
Sick paleness crossed his face, a mirror of Elly’s face in its haunted fear—but after a moment, Spencer smiled again. ‘Come on, dear, be honest. I had you investigated. You’re a selective girl who has never slept around. For a girl of your … background, you’re highly intelligent, and have kept yourself clean. That’s why I encouraged Daniel to pursue his interest with you. You only reunited with Det
ective Jepson three months ago, the only possible worry to my plans—and you look at be at least five months pregnant to me.’
Rick glanced at Adam, blank and desperate. What the hell were they going to do? Give us a minute, Elly! Buy into Spencer’s delusions!
From her copious medical bag that was never far from her, Elly handed Spencer an envelope of her own. ‘Note the date, Mr Spencer, and the report. I’m thirteen weeks pregnant with twins—and the father is my husband, Adam Jepson.’
Spencer’s eyes were obsidian, boring into her. ‘So you paid for a hoax ultrasound. I don’t blame you. Daniel has passed all bounds with you. I understand that, if he does not.’ He didn’t notice the phalanx of police closing in. Adam supposed he didn’t have to, with his own arsenal of protection. ‘I’ve had Births, Deaths and Marriages checked regularly. As lately as this morning, Miss Larkins, you were still single. There was a request for marriage papers, but they were never turned in. Now please stop irritating me with your fairy tales. Detective Jepson is still too damaged by his wife’s death to notice you … though I believe you tried your best.’ His smile was too cold to be nasty, or even triumphant. Jeremiah Spencer was so sure of success he didn’t need to crow over her, or anyone.
‘Where’s Danny?’ she asked, holding Jeremiah’s gaze. When he didn’t answer, she closed her eyes. ‘You had him killed. You killed your own grandson.’
The elegant old man looked a touch pained. ‘Really, my dear, there’s no need to descend into melodrama. I did mention your upcoming wedding to Daniel. I arranged his release from that awful place, and now have him safe.’
‘And got arrested into the bargain?’
He shrugged. ‘A small price to pay to see the succession fulfilled. As to Daniel, he is as well as can be expected. You will see him as often as you wish to—or as little. He’ll be happy knowing you’re his wife, safe on Gundawin, and that I’m protecting you from the attentions of other men.’
Cautiously, the airport’s security guards moved into place. Adam noted police pouring in through the doors and up the escalators.
Jeremiah’s security men had no need to fight. They stepped aside. He wouldn’t be armed; he was the kind of man who always won with money and power, and a flotilla of barristers.
People milled around them. Some stopped to watch the drama. Others passed on. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked once, and made snuffling sounds.
Elly shifted on her feet. ‘Mr Spencer, there will be no wedding, and I refuse to come to Gundawin. I told you the truth. I’m thirteen weeks pregnant with twins, and Adam’s the father.’
The utter steadiness in her voice must have sowed a seed of doubt in the old man’s confidence. Frowning, he shifted his gaze to Adam. ‘Well, boy?’
He nodded. ‘The marriage certificate will go in as soon as El—Janie signs it, but we’ve already had the ceremony. I am the father of her children.’
Spencer’s frown deepened. ‘You can’t know for certain.’
Adam offered him a grim smile. ‘I am absolutely, one hundred per cent certain that your grandson was never my wife’s lover.’
Suddenly he looked every day of his eighty-two years. The storm clouds came in and his eyes unfocused, Danny in replica. Plans and certainty crumbling, nothing left, nowhere to go. He stared at Elly, uncomprehending. ‘You’ve ruined everything. I had it all set up … paying the Mirakis and Ms Rollings to create alibis for Daniel until he got you pregnant. But you played the harlot. No—this can’t happen. The child will be mine! Daniel will father no child now … his mother, the silly slut, ruined it …’
He grabbed her hands. Shuddering, Elly tried to pull away. ‘I did all this for you—for my great-grandson. I even underwent the indignity of arrest to keep Daniel away from you, from my heir …’
She jerked her hands away. ‘My babies are not your heirs, Mr Spencer.’
‘He can be.’ The old man’s gaze shifted from Elly to Adam and back, eager need hidden beneath the imperious demand. ‘They’ll inherit everything. I’ve already written your child into the will. You’re young and healthy—you can have more children. Just leave one boy with me. You can take the other. Your son will be one of the richest people in the nation.’
Neither answered; they didn’t have to. Spencer read the revulsion in their expressions with the unerring ability of the long-term businessman, and stepped back. The man who’d never known defeat, or how to accept it, lifted his head, eyes frozen. Manipulating people like pieces on a chessboard, as Rick had told him he would. ‘I can force the situation, you know. You are rather simple people, and I have unlimited funds.’
In the stunned quiet, Rick stepped beside Adam. ‘Not in this age of DNA testing, Mr Spencer. Adam is my sister’s children’s father, and it’s easily proven.’
‘I have unlimited funds,’ Jeremiah Spencer replied, a little smile playing on his features. ‘And to be raised on Gundawin with me is clearly best for the child. I’m a very wealthy man. I have many friends in government, both at state and federal levels. They’ll understand that I can give the child everything you can’t.’
Rick’s gaze narrowed. ‘You’ve overlooked one thing, Mr Spencer. The day of paternalism in government is dying. Yes, we are Aboriginal people, and the Australian government spent decades stealing our children from us. But it’s now well known that most of those children were subjected to slavery and physical, emotional and sexual abuse. If you try to take either of my sister’s children, we’ll take it to the High Court, the international courts and the press. We can force several independent DNA tests to prove the babies’ paternity. You can’t pay them all off. The government can’t afford to side with you this time, no matter how much money or how many high-powered barristers you have. You will not take my sister from her family, or steal my niece or nephew—not while any member of our family is alive to stop you. We’ll get every single organisation behind us, the press, whatever it takes. I’ll prove your mental instability, and your abuse of Danny and Lorena Spencer, not to mention the animals whose throats you slit. I’ve already found two jackaroos willing to testify that you paid them off to lie about who was behind the killings.’
The words exploded from Rick with all the ferocity of a man denied family too long; all the intensity of his nature, dammed up too long, had burst forth. As one, the crowd gasped.
Jeremiah Spencer made a sound—short, horrible, strangled. His eyes turned dark. ‘Boy, you don’t want me for an enemy,’ he forced out. ‘If you knew the powerful people I have in my pocket … what I can do to those who cross me …’
Elly’s hand moved back, fingers twining with Rick’s.
‘Like poor Lorena?’ Rick lifted his phone. ‘Go ahead, Mr Spencer, call me “boy” again. Keep on threatening me, and my family. I’ve recorded every word so far, including your tacit admission that you accept my sister’s babies are not related to you in any way. Go ahead and make your threats. Two-dozen people have videotaped this whole thing. Your tirade will be on YouTube and Facebook by tonight. Do you know what they are, the power they have?’
Spencer’s eyes swivelled from face to avid face, phone to phone. Unfamiliar territory for a man who worked in the dark, used to making his bribes and threats behind closed doors. ‘They wouldn’t dare … if they knew who I am …’
Rick shrugged. ‘No doubt you can buy the people we don’t know. But to us, you’re just the crazy old man trying to take a member of our family. You can’t buy everyone, and you can’t gag all of us with court orders in time. It’s an abuse of free speech.’
The old man waved a hand. ‘Haskins, Jones, take their phones. All of them.’
As the security men moved forward, Adam said, ‘Are you really going to attempt to assault and steal from two serving police officers?’
The men moved back so fast it was comical. Spencer stared at first Adam, and then Rick, at a clear loss.
Dropping Elly’s hand, Rick played with his phone for a few moments. Then he held it up again, smiling. ‘T
here you go. Five seconds, and it’s on YouTube. “Rich man threatens to use wealth and influence with the government to steal Aboriginal children.”’ He pressed another button. ‘It’ll appear on my Facebook, Instagram and Twitter feeds any second—and I have a lot of friends. By the time you have a court order to remove the post, over a hundred thousand people will have seen it and shared their outrage with a million others.’
As Spencer made that awful gobbling sound again, Rick grinned, and it was a thing of beauty in its nasty cheek. ‘Welcome to the age of social media, Mr Spencer, where everyone’s free to post—and once it’s out there, no amount of wealth or power can stop it.’
The old man’s jaw snapped closed. His eyes moved as he worked out what to say. ‘I’ll sue you … I’ll sue you all!’
Adam stepped in, his smile every bit as triumphant as Rick’s. ‘The trouble with that threat is you’ve condemned yourself out of your own mouth, threatening to take our child from us—and we have visual and audio evidence of your threat to use the government against us. Nobody will dare back your case now.’
Elly moved toward Spencer, her face alive with pity. ‘You’ve lost, Mr Spencer. Accept it. Go home. Look after Danny. Treat him with love and compassion, and he might heal in time, find another woman to love, and give you your own great-grandchildren.’
But the old man glared at her. ‘You stupid harlot! When I told him you were pregnant, I thought he’d be happy, but I found him the next morning—he’d hanged himself. You’ve ruined everything! I need a great-grandson! Why didn’t you just take the deal? I’d have kept Daniel away from you. You’d have lived in luxury for life. Why, why?’
As the old man lifted a fist to her, Adam and Rick grabbed his wrists, bearing them down. His security men stepped forward, and then back. Adam tipped his head, and the police on the periphery approached. Pulling his hands behind his back, they used the traditional words of arrest, mentioning extortion, intimidation and threats. Jeremiah Spencer spoke with cold control about calling his barrister, who made more in an hour than the police did in a year.
Beneath the Skin Page 33