No, Ellie must never know the truth.
7
The wind swirled through the sliding doors of the council offices before they could close behind the elegant woman in a suit. Felicity blinked and dropped her gaze to the forms on the desk, her heart racing. It had to happen some time, but no matter how prepared she thought she was, facing Ellie Wilding was going to be difficult. Swallowing did nothing to alleviate the tightness in Felicity’s throat.
‘There you go, Mr Simpson. All paid for another six months.’ Felicity pushed the rates notice and receipt across the desk with a smile, praying she looked normal. She then took one last glance at her computer screen before raising her voice and looking to the head of the queue. It was mercifully short at this time of the morning. Rush hour was half an hour away.
‘Next, please. Oh my God, Ellie! You’re back early.’ She didn’t have to force the welcome into her voice, but hiding her sorrow, her fear, was hard.
‘Flick. Good to see you.’ Ellie reached across the counter to touch her friend’s hand and Felicity gripped it in both of hers.
‘You’re looking so well.’ Felicity searched the younger woman’s face for signs of grief. Ellie looked composed.
‘I am. It’s good to be back.’ The suit emphasised the length of Ellie’s legs and the curve of her waist. She’d even made an effort with her hair, smoothed it into a sleek knot at the nape of her neck. No sign of the teenage surfie chick, with tangled curls and zinc cream.
‘How long for?’
Ellie waggled her head. ‘Depends, I guess. I’d like to be here to see the development squashed altogether, but that might not be possible.’
‘Uphill battle?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ She propped her camera bag on the counter and Felicity had to smile.
‘Wow, that old bag still going?’
Ellie nodded. ‘You remember it?’
‘We all handed over precious cash to buy you that going-away present. It must have its own frequent flyer account.’
‘Now, there’s a thought. Do you think Qantas would come to the party?’ Ellie flicked at fraying stitching and the tarnished silver surfboard charm that hung from the side. ‘Been mended more times than I can remember. Too many memories to ditch it.’
‘Of course. I understand.’ And Felicity did. Nina had been home that summer before Ellie left to go to university. The crowd of them who’d hung around together had all known life would never be so uncomplicated again as they left their school days behind. None of them could have foreseen how much they would lose.
‘Nothing much has changed here either,’ Ellie said with a nod at the ceiling of the building.
‘A heck of a lot of restoration work, but the loos still sound like there’s a possum in the pipes and the heating’s just as erratic. Progress is only allowed to happen where the mayor deems it’s necessary.’
‘Like the town plan and Mrs Bell’s land, huh.’ Ellie shook her head and for an instant Felicity again saw the serious young woman who’d left behind a string of broken hearts when she’d headed for Sydney and her burgeoning career. That Ellie had been oblivious to all that adulation just added to her charm, unlike Nina. Felicity ignored the sudden jolt of pain.
‘Sarah and Mike growing up?’
‘You’ll have to drop round and see them. They miss playing with Shadow now your dad isn’t walking past every evening. How’s Tom doing? Have you heard from him?’
Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘Once in a while, I get a really huge email from an internet café, somewhere in the middle of nowhere.’ She shrugged. ‘At least he’s still in Australia, I guess, so he can’t get into too much trouble.’
Felicity laughed. ‘He said he was going to enjoy seeing how long it took you to track him down.’
‘He worked so hard to bring us up when Mum died, I guess he’s earned the right to regress now. But I’m holding him personally responsible for the grey hair I found this morning.’
‘Grey hair?’ Felicity snorted, back on safer ground and feeling her tension ease. Maybe Ellie was still Ellie. ‘I doubt that. You look great. Come round for dinner. It would make a change to share a bottle of wine instead of pretending to leave some for tomorrow.’ Felicity leant forward, compelled to ask. ‘How does it feel to be home again?’
‘Good, I guess. I feel as though I need to be here now.’ Ellie’s smile was a little too bright. ‘And thanks, dinner would be great. Don’t think I’ve gossiped for ages.’
‘Saturday, then. Dan’s heading out with the trawler on Friday and will be away until Wednesday, unless they pull in a big catch before then.’ Felicity hoped her smile held. ‘I’ll cook a roast, comfort food.’
‘Lovely.’
‘Okay, so what do you need from the council?’
Ellie’s voice dropped. ‘Is it possible to get into the main chamber to see what I need to bring on Monday for my presentation? Thought it would be prudent not to trespass. O’Sullivan might grab any excuse to have me ejected from the building and locked up.’
‘Our lord mayor would love the excuse. But I wouldn’t mind being locked up with the developer who breezed through here half an hour ago.’ Felicity waggled her head. ‘If all else fails, we could call for volunteers to seduce him.’
Ellie laughed outright this time. ‘Your man’s been away at sea too long! Just remember what that developer is doing, in tandem with our saintly mayor.’
‘Yeah, yeah, but there’s no harm in window shopping. And if you do see O’Sullivan, duck for cover. Mentioning your name just about gives him a stroke.’
‘Maybe that would be a good way of getting rid of him.’
‘Ellie, be careful what you wish for.’ Two people were now waiting patiently in the queue. ‘The doors are unlocked to the main chamber, so help yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow at the bowls club. We’ll all be there by four. I’ve got some spreadsheets for Ron too.’ She slipped the last line in triumphantly.
‘Really?’ Ellie frowned. ‘Don’t do anything that could get you caught, Flick.’
‘Of course not. The meeting will be fun. We’ll see you there and don’t forget dinner on Saturday.’
‘Thanks. Should be good. Enjoy your day now.’
Felicity watched Ellie go and called the next customer forward. Keeping the worry from her face wasn’t easy. If the protest against the development took up all Ellie’s time, maybe she wouldn’t uncover the other issues plaguing Half Moon Bay. Dan was already muttering about the ramifications of rocking the boat. The fishing industry was a tight-knit community. Piss one off, you pissed them all off. But she couldn’t turn a blind eye any more. Dan had been doing that for two years too long already. She needed to do something.
8
Ellie wasn’t in the mood to confront Lord Mayor O’Sullivan today. She kept her ears tuned for his voice as she strode down the corridor. O’Sullivan had been a councillor at Half Moon Bay for many years, but that didn’t mean he should now be running the show as the mayor.
The conversation from a nearly closed door had her feet tripping over themselves.
‘Of course, Lord Mayor, naturally we understand the difficulties. That’s why we’re more than happy to contribute to your campaign.’ She knew that voice. Nicholas Lawson. Heat washed through her cheeks.
She could hear the murmured response from the mayor, but the words were indistinguishable.
‘Absolutely, guaranteed,’ the first voice replied. ‘We look forward to working with you once the development’s underway.’
Pay-off from the developer. To be expected, of course. Money greased wheels the world over. She hesitated, wanting to hear more.
Footsteps echoed around the corner. She grasped her bag tighter and kept walking. Eavesdropping might be one of the original forms of espionage, but it was also one of the riskiest. Now was not the time to make such a basic mistake as to show her hand early.
The council chamber was empty and she resisted the urge to reminisce. Logistics was what she w
as interested in. The renovations had extended to this room. There were power points and cable connections in central points beneath the tables. She got down on her hands and knees to check what adaptors she needed and had to wiggle right under, cursing that she hadn’t thought to turn more lights on.
Just as she went to back out from under a table, she heard the main doors open with a swish, and lights blazed.
‘The chamber’s empty. We can talk here.’
‘Sure we wouldn’t be better off-site altogether?’ Lawson again with the Lord Mayor.
Ellie froze, her breath locked in her chest, her ribs tightening in shock. Shit, she said to herself. My bag . . . She could see the dark brown leather on a chair a couple of metres away.
‘No. I don’t want to be seen in public with you. Hard enough as it is.’ O’Sullivan waddled closer.
All she could see of the two men were shoes, O’Sullivan’s shiny, out-dated and about a size eight. Nicholas Lawson’s were elegant boots, expensive-looking, and at least size elevens. She could see he was leaning back against the table, in command.
‘So you’re sure that the shipment will be delivered next week?’ Lawson asked.
Ellie clamped her teeth tight, her breathing light and shallow. This was what a journalist lived for. The truth. It wasn’t altogether unexpected, but still it was shocking to hear it discussed in such a matter-of-fact manner. She could feel her blood pounding.
‘The ship’s coming past the Prom now.’
The Prom? Ellie racked her brain. Wilsons Promontory in Victoria?
‘So that’s four days’ steaming to here?’ Lawson again.
‘About that. They’ll adjust the time to suit, but the money needs to be transferred first.’
‘A ten per cent deposit, that’s as good as it gets. The rest is cash on delivery.’ The younger man’s voice had a hard edge to it. Ellie couldn’t quite pick the underlying sentiment but her anger was steadily rising. Nicholas Lawson was right at the heart of this. It proved that appearances don’t matter a damn.
‘We’ve always done it on good faith before. Legitimate electronic transfers for work done for the council. Easy to sweep under the counter, produce invoices.’ O’Sullivan was wheedling.
‘And the stakes have never been this high. We can arrange an escort on the trawler to take the remainder out to them in cash on the day.’
‘Jesus Christ, there’s that much paper money available?’ Ellie watched O’Sullivan’s feet do a little tap dance.
‘That’s the way to wash it, mate.’ Irony there, thought Ellie, as she tried to ease the cramp tugging at her left calf. Laundering, washing, smurfing . . . Turning illegal money into something else was a difficult business and in those circumstances cash was king. It’s why the Asian casinos did it so well. But a sleepy council on the east coast of Australia? It seemed far-fetched.
‘Yeah, right.’ O’Sullivan’s shoes did another side step. ‘I’ll have to get back to you. The boys have never had anyone on board. Tongues would wag if they took a freeloader on a fishing trip. And your guard would need a strong stomach. Most people chuck their guts up first time out on a trawler.’
‘No problem. The guard would blend right in.’ Lawson crossed his ankles. Ellie knew with a stab of certainty he himself would hand-pick the delivery jock. Everything about those boots screamed ‘man in control’.
‘Right, right. Well there’s still this fucking stupid opposition to the development. They’ve got a rally tomorrow afternoon and bloody Ellie Wilding’s back in town. I told you about her already. She and her sister have always been troublemakers, even as teenagers.’
‘Yeah?’ Lawson sounded surprised. ‘They did some outstanding coverage on the war in Afghanistan before the older one died.’ Ellie’s ears pricked up. It sounded as though he already knew her and Nina.
‘Always happy, provided they’re peddling a cause. Parents were the same. Fuckin’ hippies. Be grateful Tom’s not here or he’d be beating the drum as well. Spent time in that fuckin’ tent embassy at Old Parliament House in the seventies when he was a journalist covering the blackfellas’ land rights.’
‘That right? Balls run in the family then.’
‘Ha. Bad politics run in the family.’
‘So you think you can get it through despite the objections?’
‘Bloody right I can.’ Ellie watched O’Sullivan’s pants jerk up his ankles and knew he must have heaved them defiantly over his vast stomach. ‘I’ve got the dirt on enough councillors to do whatever it takes. And I paid for half their campaigns. I own this shire.’
‘Okay.’ Nicholas straightened up. ‘Get back to me about the trawler ride and I’ll line up the cash. Good doing business, O’Sullivan.’
Ellie watched as O’Sullivan moved to shake hands. There was no doubt that Nicholas Lawson was in control.
The voices subsided as the two men went out the door and Ellie stretched her leg out, rubbing the cramp from her muscle. They never said drugs, but everything else pointed to it. Next week, four days. She didn’t have much time. Would it be better to just try to convince the authorities? Was it already on someone’s radar? It sounded like a sophisticated operation to be washing money via drugs and local government. None of it made sense. She’d need to learn more about money laundering as well as council by-laws. Big call in a few days.
She backed out from under the table, mulling over the choices. They needed to get the team together urgently. Maybe this afternoon? She felt a rush of air on her back as the door behind her opened again. Oh, shit. All she could do was rock back on her heels and scramble to her feet, trying to be graceful and failing in her haste.
The expression on Nicholas Lawson’s suntanned face was inscrutable. The blood pounded in her ears, sounding like the roar of the ocean. She broke the silence, her gaze sliding away from his. ‘Hello, again. You do get around.’ Her words fell flat in the big room and she had to stop herself wiping sweaty palms down her pants.
‘Normally hide under tables, do you?’
His voice rasped and her heart rate ratcheted up another notch. She reached for her leather bag. ‘What? Under tables? Oh, that.’ She gestured at the floor and the connection hub. ‘I’m just checking out the facilities for my presentation on Monday. I’ve forgotten to bring my cables, though, so I’m still not sure. Silly me.’ She was babbling and knew it.
His hard laugh had the fine hairs on her arms lifting.
‘Silly me,’ he mimicked. ‘Wouldn’t have been trying to eavesdrop, would you, because that could be very dangerous. And stupid.’ Nick leant back against a table and crossed his ankles again. Her fingers itched for her camera. His was a stern face; all angles and hollows, with a full bottom lip.
She tossed her head, embarrassment making her reckless. ‘Democracies are supposed to have open and accountable governance. Any discussions between developers and elected officials should be on the public record.’
He bristled, anger adding to his charisma. ‘You know nothing, Ms Wilding, nothing at all. Nor can you prove anything.’
Unsettled by her body’s unwanted response to him, she went on the offensive. ‘You won’t win. The community will stop at nothing to block this development. I will stop at nothing.’
‘You should be careful of issuing a challenge before you know the cost.’
She held his gaze. ‘I never issue challenges I’m not prepared to defend.’
He straightened up, moved a step closer, his broad shoulders adding intimidation to his considerable height. ‘Playing with fire could get you burnt, Ellie. You’re in the big league now.’
Tall as she was, with the added height of elegant heels, she was still forced to lift her chin. Up this close there were minute flecks of silver in his coal-dark hair, diamond pin-pricks of gold in eyes the colour of burnt mahogany.
‘We’re talking about democratic principles being ignored here and I’ll shout about corruption from the rooftops if needs be.’
‘You’ll regret it.�
� His voice was flat, but she couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of her. Adrenalin had given her vocal cords a huge shot of courage and her volume rose. Caution had flown.
‘Regret it? Are you threatening me? No one’s going to let anything happen to me here in the council chambers.’ As if on cue, someone tried one of the smaller doors with a quick rattle. Ellie’s voice rose. ‘I’m going to make damn sure they hear all about your . . .’
Nick spun on his heel and grabbed her wrist, hauling her along after him, effectively jolting her into silence.
‘You have no freakin’ idea what you’re doing,’ he hissed through clenched teeth. ‘Don’t push it, Ellie.’
They made it to the main door just as it opened.
‘I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t realise anyone was in here.’ The grey-haired lady’s cheeks were tinged with pink. Nick still had hold of Ellie’s wrist.
Ellie tore it loose. ‘I’m just leaving, Mrs Clarke. I don’t know about Mr Lawson.’ She didn’t try to hide the venom in the look she shot at him.
‘No need to, Ellie. I was just going to turn out the lights. I’ll see you at the club tomorrow afternoon.’ Mrs Clarke turned and closed the door before Ellie could respond.
Embarrassment made her lash out and she swung at Nicholas, her hand raised in frustration. Before she could work out what to do with it, both hands were caught in a hard grip, the handle of her bag squashed between her fingers.
‘How dare you,’ she snarled, twisting away from him. ‘Let me go, you arrogant jerk.’ But his long, lean hands held her, his thumb over her pulse, and she knew it was thrumming under his touch. Despite her anger, her edgy fear, she could still feel the heat of misplaced attraction. Without her camera to hide behind, her emotions were too close to the surface.
‘Oh indeed, I dare, Miss Ellie. I dare many things.’ He smiled, keeping her anchored, centimetres away from him for a moment longer, those dark eyes sweeping over her. ‘You could only begin to guess at it.’ When he released her, she staggered back against the table, words sticking in her throat as he continued to taunt her.
Half Moon Bay Page 5