by Annie Seaton
‘Depending on what you need, we have readymade sets in this cabinet—’ she gestured to the cabinet to his left ‘—or if you prefer you can choose your own Matsu diamond and the jeweller can set it for you.’
‘You have a jeweller on site?’
‘Three.’ Her voice was very cultured and Connor wondered idly if she was a local. She was more suited to Toorak than a small town in the East Kimberley. ‘We have a twenty-four hour turnaround on anything you may order. If necessary, the jeweller will work all night to finish a piece for a specific order.’ The woman took a step back as the door opened and more potential customers walked in. ‘I’ll leave you to browse, shall I? Often a piece will speak to you as soon as you see it.’ Her voice became more posh as she spoke.
Connor had noticed her check out his leather shoes and Rolex watch. Obviously a good saleswoman who assessed the customer and then moved in for the sale. ‘Thank you. If something speaks to me I will be sure to call you over personally.’ Again he bit back a smile. Bloody hell, if only the diamonds at Matsu could speak to him, he’d solve this case and be out of here on the first plane. He glanced down at his watch; it was past time to check in for his flight.
It only took a couple of minutes to drive to the airport at Kununurra. Connor parked the Matsu ute at the back of the car park and crossed the hot bitumen. Even though it was just before ten o’clock, the heat was rising from the ground in waves. He put his finger in his collar and loosened it, keeping an eye on the road. He didn’t think Dru would be here yet. He sat in the airport lounge and kept his smartphone in his hand. He logged into the tracking program but her car was still stationary in town.
When his flight was called he stood and lifted his bag, and the small blue circle began to move on the screen. She was on the road to the airport. He switched his phone to flight mode and slipped it into his pocket, wondering how Dru usually travelled from Darwin airport to her apartment. He knew little about her personal life; maybe she had a partner who would pick her up. Maybe she’d get a cab.
As the small plane took off, about ten minutes behind its scheduled departure, Connor leaned across and looked down. Below him on the edge of the small township, the mango and sandalwood plantations on the fertile plains of the Ord River formed a wide green fringe at the edge of the red desert. The silver ribbon of the fast flowing river snaked across to the man-made Lake Argyle to the east, and the diversion dam to the west of town.
He turned away from the shimmering view to concentrate on the job at hand. He needed to figure out what Dru was doing in the diamond store at Kununurra and why the jeweller had followed her outside.
*
The deep vibration of a plane taking off filled the air as Dru turned onto the airport road. Her eyes were gritty and her limbs leaden. She’d tossed and turned all night, worrying about the coincidence of Connor being in the same small town.
What did they call it? She’d looked it up once, not long after she’d got back from Dubai. A persecution complex? The delusion that someone was out to harm her. Well, someone was, she knew that, unless her memory was embellishing what had really happened.
When she thought about Dubai, it always triggered her recurring nightmare about Dad. As Dru had lain there drifting on the edge of sleep, old memories pushed into her thoughts and she broke into a sweat. Her legs stiffened and she clenched her fist against her mouth as that picture rewound. The same picture, the same people, the same outcome.
She’d tried to move the packing crates but Mum had pulled her away.
‘Peter, Peter.’ Her mother’s sobs had been guttural.
Eyes bulging, red spots in Dad’s cheeks. His tongue protruding from his open mouth, as though he was trying to talk to them.
Help me. Dru had imagined the words coming from his mouth.
‘Dad!’ she had screamed. But they could do nothing to save him. It was too late.
She’d dragged her mum to the house and made her sit in the lounge. In the end Dru had to climb onto her mother’s lap and sit on her to stop her going back out there to that fucking shed while they waited for the police and the ambulance to arrive. The call to her sisters had been one of the hardest things—no, it had been the hardest thing—she’d ever done in her life.
She could still remember every second as though it was yesterday.
Ellie and Emma had grieved too, but they had never understood the depth of pain that Dru carried inside and how it impacted on her every day.
Her relationships, her trust, her damn wellbeing. Her whole fucking life. There was no way she was going to call it mental health—even to herself. She had found Dad, and Mum had come to the shed just behind her.
Dru hadn’t been able to save him. Her wonderful, loving father. She knew she couldn’t have saved him, but that didn’t stop her from blaming herself. It was easier to stay away from her family and keep her grief buried deep along with every other feeling that wanted to surface. She could forget most of the time. But sweet Jesus, would that picture of her dead father ever leave her?
Hot tears had spilled from her eyes and she let them fall onto the pillowcase. Finally, she slept deeply for an hour before dawn until the sound of departing caravans woke her.
The humidity was building and she sat in the car for a long moment, enjoying the cool air pumping from the dashboard vents. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Shopping at the diamond store for the gift for Adam Hennessey’s wife and then wandering around the Saturday markets had eased her tension for a short time, but now her fingers began to tingle and her heart beat heavily. Taking another deep breath, she switched the ignition off and opened her door. She slipped the package into the side pocket of her soft bag, and put it onto the ground as she leaned across to get her backpack from the front passenger seat of the car. The jeweller had come outside at the same time she had, and he’d been interested to see that she’d bought a jar of the face cream. ‘As you can guess, we don’t sell much of it,’ he’d said.
‘It’s for a friend,’ she’d replied.
As she looked across the airport car park, Dru spotted the white HiLux ute parked in the very back row. Picking up both her bags, she walked to the end of the row and stood looking at the numberplate.
LJ 203. Connor’s ute.
Anger filled her and she strode into the terminal. Suspicion solidified in her stomach. He was following her; of that she was now certain. A couple of businessmen in suits sat in the departure area, their phones to their ears. Two couples, Indian and Japanese, waited by the counter but there was no sign of him. Connor Kirk.
She waited in the line, her heart now beating a staccato rhythm in her chest. When the flight service officer was free, Dru stepped forward and took her phone with her e-ticket from her backpack. With a smile, she inclined her head to the car park.
‘I thought I was on the same flight as my . . . er . . . friend, but he doesn’t seem to be here? Connor Kirk?’
The girl smiled back at her and glanced down at her computer. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t give out passenger information but there was another flight to Darwin earlier. We run two flights on Saturdays and they’re both always full.’
A spike of uncertainty ran through Dru’s chest and settled in her stomach. Her thoughts ran in circles for a few seconds and she clung to her e-ticket as the girl held her hand out for it.
She swallowed and injected a brightness she was far from feeling into her voice. ‘In that case, there’s no point me getting there after him.’ She knew she was babbling and her words made no sense. ‘Different meeting times.’ Her words ran on top of each other. ‘We must have gotten confused. Look, I’ll catch him later. Please cancel my ticket. No point me leaving now.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’ Dru’s nod was jerky. She knew her eyes would be red-rimmed and the usual purple shadows would be there. ‘I’ll catch him later. Just cancel my booking. Don’t worry about the refund. It’s fine. I’m not worried. I have to go. I’ll see you next time. T
hank you.’
She was aware of the girl’s curious gaze staying on her as she picked up her bags and turned to the door. Let her think it was a lover’s tiff. Or—closer to the truth—that Dru was a nutcase.
She took slow and steady steps and it felt as though she was moving through quicksand. Her sweating hands slipped on the straps of her bags and she had to grasp them tightly. Okay, maybe she was being totally irrational and hysterical, but better to be safe than sorry.
Darwin was an international airport and it wouldn’t be hard to get her onto a flight to Dubai. If Zayed had employed Connor to take her back, he would have passports and whatever was needed to get her there.
Okay. Maybe she was totally crazy, but she was not going to go home to her apartment. It was time to disappear for a while. She just had to figure out where to hide for two weeks.
Maybe longer.
‘They need one more to join the tour or they’re going to cancel.’ The English accent was strong.
Dru slowed as she passed the tourism office on her way out of the airport. Two young women were standing in front of the counter looking at each other.
‘Oh no. Really? We wanted to see the Bungle Bungles and we’re flying back to England next week.’ The taller one’s voice was laced with disappointment.
Dru approached the counter and put her bags down. She’d been thinking about going back to the mine; at least she knew she was safe there. But she wasn’t rostered on for two weeks, and what if Connor came back there looking for her? She needed another option.
‘Excuse me. What’s the tour?’
The tour operator looked down at the computer screen. ‘A safari camp in the Bungle Bungles. It’s supposed to head out this afternoon, but it’s about to be cancelled.’ She shrugged and gave an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry, but we need a minimum of fifteen to run it. It’s one of the last tours of the season. It’s a bad time of the year with the wet coming on. We have trouble filling some of the tours and it’s disappointing when it doesn’t go ahead at the last minute. The Kimberley is usually a one-off visit for most tourists, especially the backpackers.’
‘That’s us.’ The red-haired girl shook her head. ‘It was going to be our last tour before we headed home.’
‘Maybe I can help.’ Dru glanced at the two young backpackers with a smile before turning back to the guide. ‘Tell me more about it.’
‘Twelve days down in the Bungle Bungles. A lot of hiking with an Indigenous tour guide and everything is supplied. Safari tents and all meals. Five star “glamping”. All you need is some energy and the desire to have a good time.’
Dru smiled; the woman was a good salesperson.
‘Okay, sounds good to me. Sign me up.’ Dru even surprised herself with her quick decision. She reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet. ‘I needed something to fill in this week. What do I need to bring along?’
‘Just a few changes of clothes and your toiletries. A towel, a pair of swimmers and a pair of sturdy boots. Everything else is provided.’
Dru handed her credit card over.
‘Oh, and a wide-brimmed hat and sunscreen too.’
After the payment was processed, the tour operator handed Dru her card. ‘Be back here by quarter to one. It’s a four hour drive and you’ll get there just in time to set up camp tonight. Park your car over in the long-term park. No charge for tour members.’
The two young girls grinned at her. ‘That’s way cool. Thanks so much.’
After heading into town to pick up what she didn’t already have in her bag, Dru was back at the airport with time to spare. Knowing that Connor had probably left on the flight to Darwin eased her tension and she’d stopped looking for shadows that didn’t exist. She put her new Akubra on her head, locked her bigger bag in the boot and picked up her backpack before heading for the small tour bus parked on the other side of the car park.
As they sailed past the turn-off to the mine a couple of hours later, Dru settled into her seat with a smile. A week where nobody knew where she was; a week where she would be one hundred percent safe.
Chapter 15
Darwin, Northern Territory
A string of curses left Connor’s lips as he stood at the side of the arrivals lounge at Darwin airport and watched the passengers disembark. He waited until the flight crew left the plane and then realised that Dru had somehow duped him. Or maybe she’d never had any intention of getting the flight to Darwin. Maybe she was one step ahead of him and a lot more clever than he had given her credit for. It was a multimillion dollar heist that he was investigating and he’d been acting like an amateur and had underestimated her. Her looks and her confidence had thrown him that first night, and then the vulnerable act that she’d put on last night had got to his emotions and sucked him right in.
He pulled out his phone and switched it on, and quickly scrolled to the tracking app. The blue circle indicating the co-ordinates of her car was stationary in the car park at Kununurra airport.
So maybe she’d missed the flight.
Damn, damn, damn.
He opened his bag and pulled out his laptop. The faulty cameras were part of the theft, he was certain of that, but who was interfering with them was still an unknown. He emailed Greg and asked him to run a couple more background checks—on Don Finlayson and Adam Hennessey.
A new list appeared on the screen as he put his thoughts down. He typed D. Porter at the top and tapped his finger on his lips as he added to the list.
Opportunity. That needed a bit more work. Like the other suspects, as far as he could see she had no access to the processing plant or the recovery room.
Secrecy about her background. That was a big red flag.
And the Dubai connection. A photograph taken with the guy who’d bought the diamonds. That alone was enough to have her interviewed by the police. But had he bought them? There was no evidence of a purchase; only the word of his PA to the jeweller in Antwerp.
Connor had almost completed his preliminary investigations at the mine, so it was time to take the investigation a bit wider. A trip to Dubai and Antwerp to interview the key players was his next step. Zayed Al Tayer, his personal assistant, and Hughie Van Hoebeek, the Antwerp jeweller.
He shut down his laptop and glanced around the airport a final time. Dru wouldn’t come to the party; so he’d go and check out her apartment. He plugged Dru’s Darwin address into his phone and pulled out the key to his hire car.
He had no trouble getting into her place. After one of the tenants had buzzed him into the foyer—all he had to do was say he was a deliveryman—he was inside her apartment within minutes. The location had made breaking in even easier. It was on the top floor overlooking the harbour and her entry door was hidden from view.
He knocked on the door for safety’s sake—as far as he knew she lived alone—and then used his tools to pick the lock. As he turned the knob he waited for a security alarm but all was silent. He stepped into the foyer, slipped his shoes off and let out a whistle. A huge glass window overlooked the sapphire blue water of the harbour. A low white leather sofa fronted a huge television screen recessed into a small alcove at one end of the room. At the other end was a kitchen with glossy black countertops.
Careful not to touch anything, Connor stepped into the first bedroom. As he looked around at the luxurious apartment he realised what was missing. The apartment could have been a holiday let. There were no personal items on display; no knick-knacks, no photographs, no books.
Nothing.
Connor stepped into the en-suite bathroom and opened the cabinet.
Empty.
A cold feeling settled in his gut. Christ, what if he’d broken into the wrong apartment?
Walking slowly toward the front door, he glanced at the last door at the end of the wide hallway. He turned and stepped down the hallway, the white tiles cold beneath his bare feet. Opening the door, he found a room filled with cardboard boxes. A hairbrush sat on the low cupboard beneath the window. He p
icked it up. A couple of stray long, blonde hairs were caught between the fibres.
He was in the right apartment.
Most of the boxes were sealed with packing tape and although he was tempted to open them, he didn’t want her to know he had been in the apartment. He lifted the lid of a couple that were already open but they only held an assortment of books and clothes.
Frustration gnawed at him again. She’d led him on a merry chase and it was a bloody waste of time looking here. He wasn’t going to find anything. Biting back his temper, he went back to the entry and slipped his shoes on.
It was time to go deeper, and to visit the place where he knew there was information waiting for him. He’d take the first flight back to Kununurra in the morning.
The drive to Wyndham the following afternoon took just over an hour. The road from Kununurra was sealed the whole way and Connor was surprised by the lack of traffic. He ignored the temptation to turn onto the famous Gibb River Road and head down to El Questro and Zebedee Springs. Apparently he and his mother had spent some time along the Gibb River Road when he was a child but he had no memory of it.
What he could see so far appealed to him—wide open spaces, little traffic and no habitation. He shook his head as he slowed the vehicle to avoid a large bird pecking at a carcass in the middle of the road. He’d spent the first five years of his life in a kombivan moving from place to place wherever his mother’s mood took them. Maybe that explained why he found it hard to settle in one place now. Maybe he’d take some time off after this job was done; hopefully things would go his way and it wouldn’t be long.
Despite being tired—and if he was honest, a bit jaded—Connor knew he was on the right track. He’d set himself a punishing pace over the past ten years but he’d had a business to build up—not to mention demons to keep at bay.