Hot Lawyers: The Lee Christine Collection

by Lee Christine

  Allegra screamed in pain, inhaled another mouthful.

  Through the sickening haze it registered in a far corner of her mind that her mother must be okay. And that made her happy. Brian Morag had been waiting in the laundry. It had all been a ruse to lure her here.

  Allegra’s head seemed to detach from her body. Luke wasn’t the only one who’d walked into a trap.

  She saw his face in her mind’s eye, wished she could really see him again. Touch his face. Ease his conscience.

  But it wouldn’t happen now.

  It was over.

  I’m sorry, Luke. I’m so sorry.

  Then blackness engulfed her and she slumped to the floor.

  ***

  Luke shone a torch over the interior of the car.

  “Aren’t you going to brush it for prints?”

  Luke checked under the dash then moved the driver’s seat forward and back. “I’m not the police.”

  They would be involved soon enough. He’d hand over the evidence he had on Clements then strike a deal to keep the photographs of Allegra under wraps. They would brush the car for prints, move in and arrest him.

  His gloved fingertips touched something under the seat. Groping around, Luke extracted a scrunched up ball of paper.

  He smoothed it out as best he could and shone the torch light on it. It was a copy of a prescription for pharmaceuticals, the writing so faded it was barely legible. It could have been wet at some point.

  “It’s made out to a Merle Anderson, dated roughly two months ago.” He held it up for the landlady to see. “Who’s Merle Anderson?”

  She shrugged. “Never heard of her.”

  “How long have you owned this car?”

  “Eight years.” She planted her hands on generous hips and glared at him. “And before you ask, I don’t know how that got there.”

  Luke bagged the piece of paper then phoned Tom and gave him the details. “I can’t read the address, but the pharmacy’s Piggotts at Cremorne.”

  “You think Clements might have dropped it?”

  “Seems likely, or someone he had with him.” Luke straightened and stretched out his back. “Anything on him yet?”

  “He works in a supermarket at Yagoona three days a week. Has a record as long as your arm.”

  Luke discarded the latex gloves. “For what?”

  “Everything from petty theft to break and enter and assault. Going right back. Then six years ago he was convicted of sexual assault.”

  Bile rose in Luke’s throat. “Shit!”

  He pushed past the landlady and walked outside, needing some fresh air. He needed to see Allegra, reassure himself she was okay. If Clements so much as put his hands on her …

  Calm down! Think of it as another mission. You do your best work that way.

  Luke raised his free hand and leaned against the doorjamb. He couldn’t let his emotions screw with his head. She was at the office. Nat was stationed outside. Both his associates had her on GPS.

  His phone beeped.

  “I called the supermarket,” Tom was saying. “He’s not in today.”

  “Did you get on to his parole officer?”

  “Had to leave a message.

  “Keep trying, find out where Clements volunteers. I’m not hanging around waiting for him to show up.”

  “Will do.”

  “And Tom, cross search Clements with Merle Anderson and Chris Noble. There’s got to be a link, however tenuous.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Luke disconnected Tom and brought up the incoming call. It was Nat. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “There’s a problem this end.”

  The urgency in her voice almost caused his heart to stop.

  “I’ve lost her. Four cars came out one after the other, none of them the Golf. They turned in different directions. I couldn’t see which car she was in.”

  Luke swallowed, his mouth going dry. Why would Allegra get in someone else’s car? “Tell me you’ve got her on GPS.”

  “I do, but the Spit Bridge opened up. I’m stuck, waiting for the yachts to go through.”

  Luke’s mind raced. Groves Hill was in that direction, but why would she be visiting her mother on a work morning? And why wasn’t she in her own car?

  “Hang on, Nat. I’ll ring her.”

  Luke paced around the tiny yard at the rear of the garage waiting for the call to connect. Allegra would be furious about the tracking software, and she’d be pissed to learn he was still on the case. But he couldn’t worry about her reaction. Not when he was this close.

  Within seconds an automatic reply came back. ‘I am in a meeting.’

  Luke swore under his breath. She wasn’t in a bloody meeting. She was on the North Shore.

  Aware of the landlady watching his every move, he phoned Grace and Poole and asked to be put through to Allegra.

  “One moment please, Mr. Neilson.”

  The call went straight to her voicemail.

  Luke clenched his teeth, hung up and redialled. This time he asked for Allegra’s secretary.

  Voicemail again.

  He disconnected the call and stared at the phone in his hand. What the fuck was going on?

  “She could be going to see her mother,” he told Nat. “Catch her up. I’ll keep trying her mobile. I’m almost done here.”

  “Okay.”

  Luke hung up and turned to the landlady. “Have you got someone who can stay with you?”

  She looked embarrassed all of a sudden, like she wasn’t used to people watching out for her. “A nephew does some odd jobs around the place. He’d stay over if I asked.”

  “Then ask. And can you not use the car?”

  “For how long?”

  “Give me twenty four hours.” Luke held out the car key. “And hide this in a better place.”

  She rolled her eyes and reached for the key. “Okay, but only because you’re so pretty.”

  “Stay out of his way,” Luke said in a low voice as they walked back through the house.

  “What’s he done?”

  He retrieved his helmet from the hallstand. “I can’t say. Just sit tight and call me immediately he gets back.”

  Luke buckled his helmet and vaulted down the front steps. He couldn’t lie in wait for Clements when Allegra was running around loose on the Northern Beaches. Tom’s searches could take a while, and God only knew when he’d get to speak to the parole officer.

  “Hope you find that girl of yours,” the landlady called as she closed the front gate.

  ***

  Weaving through Sydney’s gridlocked traffic, Luke was grateful to be on the bike. He ignored the frustrated expressions of irate drivers going nowhere, and emerged from the Harbour Tunnel into bright sunshine.

  His phone buzzed against his chest.

  Tom didn’t bother with a greeting. “Merle Anderson is a 92 years old resident of Groves Hill Aged Care. Isn’t that where Allegra’s mother lives?”

  Luke’s body went stone cold, his theories turning to dust. Jesus! Clements and Groves Hill? The threat was closer to home than he’d imagined.

  “I need a minute to think, Tom.”

  A debilitating fear, unlike anything he’d ever known, infused his body. Allegra wasn’t in her car, or at the office. She’d travelled in an unknown vehicle to Groves Hill. And she wasn’t answering her phone.

  “What about the parole officer?”

  “He doesn’t know anything about Clements volunteering.”

  Unanswered questions filled Luke’s mind. Could Clements be a volunteer at Groves Hill? It seemed unlikely. Volunteers were thoroughly vetted, and a Police Record would throw up a red flag immediately. Then how come a prescription found in the landlady’s stolen car belonged to a resident at Groves Hill?

  “Tom, ring Groves. Ask the Director to keep Allegra in his office until I get there, and find out if Clements is a volunteer?”

  “Right.”

  “Fax them a copy of our sketch too, in case he
’s there under an assumed name.”

  “Okay.”

  “Where’s Nat?”

  “Over the Spit now.”

  “And Allegra?”

  “At Groves Hill.”

  Luke breathed a sigh of relief. “I hope I’m wrong, Tom. I hope Allegra slipped into a cab without Nat noticing, but I don’t think so.”

  “How do the photographs fit in?”

  Luke glanced over his shoulder and changed lanes. “No idea, but our first priority is to secure Allegra. Then we go after Clements. The evidence against him is mounting.”

  Luke killed the call and pulled into the transit lane reserved for buses and cabs. Ignoring the speed cameras, he passed the turnoff to Balmoral Beach and roared downhill towards the Spit Bridge, relieved to find it closed and the traffic moving freely.

  A call came through from Nat.

  “Luke, she’s on the move, but not headed back this way.”

  What the hell was going on? “Where’s she headed?”

  “Manly Beach I’d say.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At a servo in Balgowlah.”

  Luke checked the traffic ahead of him. “Stay where you are, I’m only a minute or two behind. We’ll swap phones. I’ve got more chance of catching her on the bike. Keep trying her mobile.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Minutes later Luke spotted Nat’s car and pulled in beside her. He spread his legs wide to balance the bike, leaving the engine running.

  “I can’t raise her,” Nat said as they swapped phones. She leaned over and pointed to the screen. “Do you really think that’s her? I mean, I didn’t actually see her leave the building. What if someone else has her phone?”

  Luke stared at the moving arrow, a cold wad of fear lodging heavily in his gut. The possibilities were endless. Allegra could have called a cab and gone to see her mother. She could be rejecting his calls because as far as she was concerned he was off the case. Hell, she could even have had her phone stolen.

  But every instinct told him otherwise.

  “Go straight to Groves and question the Director. I’ve got a hunch Clements is a volunteer there. Tom’s faxing through the mock up. Find out everything you can.”

  “Okay.” Nat stared at him through worried eyes. “What’s your take on this?”

  Luke swallowed and closed his eyes. It was futile putting himself in Allegra’s shoes and trying to second guess her movements, when his tried and tested modus operandi was to approach things pragmatically and listen to his gut. And his gut told him everything pointed to Groves Hill, Clements and Merle Anderson. And that circle naturally widened to include Allegra and her mother.

  Just how the photographs fitted in, he didn’t know.

  But he did know his personal relationship with Allegra was distorting his thinking. If this were any other client he’d analyse the cold, hard facts and not be afraid to face the impending nightmare about to be unleashed.

  And he’d know what to do.

  He opened his eyes and stared at Nat, barely managing to articulate his worst fear. “She’s in trouble. I have this god-awful feeling he’s got her already.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  She was in a moving vehicle.

  Allegra pushed her tongue around the dry insides of her mouth and stared at the specks of light piercing the fabric of her makeshift hood.

  Those specks told her she wasn’t in the trunk.

  Relief drained her already depleted energy stores, and she screwed up her face and held her breath as dust particles irritated her nasal passages. Her heart pounded with the effort not to sneeze.

  The slightest noise would tell Morag she was awake.

  Sweat trickled down her face and into her eyes. She blinked, fighting the lethargy weighing down her limbs. Her hands were trussed so tightly the pain was almost unbearable.

  Tentatively, she moved one foot, and then the other, surprised to find it was only paralysing fear that bound them together.

  She needed to think.

  Self-defence 101 with Luke had equipped her with the basics, but physically, she was no match for Brian Morag.

  Her mouth quivered beneath the crude hood as she tested her restraints.

  Luke!

  You only have a small window of opportunity to break free.

  She heard his voice in her head and she clung to it like a life buoy. She visualised his face, the slash on his cheek, the firm lips and roughened jaw that drove her to madness when they made love.

  Courage welled within her, silent and energising, bringing strength to her limbs and infusing her with a steely resolve.

  She wouldn’t give up. She would see Luke again. See her mother.

  No way would she die like this!

  There was a sudden squeal of tyres and Morag braked hard, cannoning her into what had to be the back of the front seats. A cacophony of horns and a string of obscenities from the front of the vehicle covered her grunt. As Morag accelerated, she flattened herself to the floor, trying not to roll on the carpeted flat bed surface. She lifted her head, and her crown rubbed against a flexible, vinyl like cover.

  She was in the back of a wagon, or SUV.

  Harnessing every ounce of her strength, she struggled with the restraints on her wrists. Pain shot through her fingers and she bit down hard on her bottom lip.

  She had to remain silent.

  Her jaw tensed as she strained to hear any audible clue as to where they were. A hiss of airbrakes indicated a large vehicle to the left of them, and a motorcycle revved in the distance. Every sound suggested a built up area.

  With grim determination she worked at loosening her bonds, nauseous from the substance Morag had given her and the stop start motion of the car. Fear ate at the lining of her stomach.

  The vehicle rounded a long bend, the traffic moving more freely now, suggesting the outskirts of the city. Growing more frantic, Allegra twisted her hands back and forth, damping down her panic as sensation leached back into her fingertips.

  She prayed Luke was still working the case, clinging to the belief he wouldn’t let things slide until she got around to retaining someone else. He wasn’t the type of man to just let things go. He’d done everything he could to stop her leaving yesterday.

  She worked away, her hands chafing as she dragged at the restraints. As much as she longed for Luke, she was faced with the harsh reality.

  She was on her own.

  How could he ever find her now?

  ***

  At the stop light, Luke left two cars between the white wagon and the Harley. Another minute and he’d get a look at the driver. He made a show of gazing at his surroundings, disguising the mix of adrenaline and fury racing through his system. If Clements was behind the wheel, he didn’t want to tip him off. Patience and timing worked best.

  The phone buzzed against his chest.

  “What do you have, Nat?”

  “I recognised one of the cars from the underground coming out of Groves.” Nat’s relieved voice crackled through the connection. “I cut it off. It was Allegra’s secretary.”

  Luke frowned behind the black Perspex lens of his helmet. “Josie?”

  “That’s her. They got a call that Mrs. Greenwood was gravely ill. She drove Allegra. That’s why I missed them.”

  Up ahead the light turned green and the wagon moved off. Luke followed at a slower pace, letting the car gain ground. “That accounts for her movements up until then.”

  “You think it’s a ploy?”

  “It’s what I’m guessing.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Manly Beach, tailing a white wagon.” He recited the plate number to Nat. “Get Tom onto it. Check if Allegra’s with her mother before I make a move.”

  “Sure thing.”

  The line went dead in his ear.

  ***

  Arthur Clements thumped his palm on the steering wheel and swore profusely. Any minute now she’d be awake, and the retractable load cover wouldn�
��t contain her if she began thrashing around. Just his luck this heap was the only one unlocked in the supermarket car park.

  For the umpteenth time he checked the vehicles around him. No sign of Neilson’s AMG. What the hell had happened to him? All week he’d been hanging around like shit on her shoe and then he just ups and leaves?

  He turned his head and spat out the window. Good riddance! Neilson’s absence made his job a whole lot easier.

  He peered through the side mirror—not a police car in sight.

  He checked the rear view. No movement from the back of the wagon either.

  The traffic had thinned out now. One by one the cars he’d been watching had turned off, until only the guy on the gleaming Harley remained. When he’d finished with Allegra, he’d think about stealing a bike like that and cruising up the Queensland coast. Maybe he’d cut across to the Northern Territory and Uluru. Get lost in the Australian outback.

  He couldn’t go back now. They were already suspicious at Groves Hill and when they discovered Brian Morag was an alias it would all be over.

  And he was ready to move on, be rid of the old bitch at the boarding house and that loser Parole Officer, always on his case for missing appointments with the psychologist. He wouldn’t miss that bloody quack either, forever questioning him about his urges.

  The lights changed and he pressed the accelerator to the floor. He took Darley Road, glancing briefly at St. Patrick’s Seminary which now housed the International Hotel School, before passing beneath the Park Hill Arch.

  He knew the layout of North Head Sanctuary backwards. He’d spent hours up here reading thousands of inscriptions left by people who had passed through the old quarantine centre. He knew every building of the World War II Military Base, every gravestone in the cemetery, every square metre of wild tea tree scrub.

  Yes, it had been too long since his last visit here.

  ***

  Luke’s phone vibrated. He pulled into the lookout area, left the bike idling and pretended to inspect the view. From the corner of his eye he watched the wagon turn into the car park of the Military Base.

  “Yep?”

  “It’s bad.”

  Nat’s words stunned Luke like a blow to the heart. His legs went weak as an image of Allegra lying injured, worse, flashed through his mind.