Secrets of Silvergum

by Mandy Magro

‘Of course, they’re millionaires. I’m not too sure how Emma’s going to react, though, when she learns about a feedlot being right next door to her place. The smell alone is going to be hard to cope with, then there’s the flies that come with it, and the trucks coming in and out all hours of the day and night.’

  ‘To be honest, I don’t give a shit what she thinks, George. It’ll be her problem to sort out with the local council – and I’m guessing it’s nothing a bit of money passed under the table to the mayor won’t fix on Zhao Pastoral’s behalf. In the grand scheme of things, she’s really got Buckley’s of stopping it all unfolding right under her nose.’ He laughed sarcastically. ‘Excuse the pun.’

  Red rage flooded Emma. If she wanted to punch Michael before, she wanted to throttle him with her bare hands now. ‘Hate’ was a strong word, but she hated him, with every fibre of her being.

  George snorted a laugh. ‘Very true, when a wad of cash is shoved in the mayor’s face, anything is possible, as we know.’

  ‘Damn right. We’re lucky he was one of Dad’s best mates.’

  ‘Indeed, we are.’

  ‘Thanks for getting this all sorted for me, George. I owe you one.’ There was a slap to the back.

  ‘I was your father’s confidant for many years, Michael, the keeper of all his secrets, so to speak, and now I’m yours. Of course I have your back, and always will.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And on that subject, you really shouldn’t have pulled that gun out on Zane the other day.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, but he was getting me so damn hot under the collar, the bastard.’

  ‘He might well have been, Michael, but that gun has a history. You don’t want to go drawing attention to it.’ It was said sternly, almost warningly. ‘Why do you still have the bloody thing anyway?’

  ‘There’s just something important to me about keeping the weapon that killed Zane’s father, even though it was Peter who pulled the trigger.’

  Emma choked back a cry. The world slipping out from beneath her feet, she grabbed hold of the wall to stop from slamming to the floor. Bile rose and she swallowed down the need to vomit. All this time, she’d thought it was her fault, had believed Zane’s father was dead when she and Zane had been told to go to the bedroom, while Peter and Michael got rid of the body …

  ‘A memento, of sorts.’

  ‘Yes, George, and a reminder of just how far Peter was willing to go to keep this place for me so I could sell it and get ahead in life.’ Michael cleared his throat as though emotional. ‘Anyway, we better get back to the office to open for the day’s business.’

  That was Emma’s cue to make herself scarce, as quietly as she could. She hightailed it down the hallway, towards Zane’s old room – the only place she felt somewhat safe. Her head spun wildly; twice she had to reach out and grab the wall for support, her legs feeling as if they were about to give out beneath her. Blind fury made her tremble and fear swirled in her stomach. Quietly closing the door behind her, she slipped under the bed, taking measured breaths to try to calm her racing pulse. All these years, she’d blamed herself for Zane’s father’s death, had battled through suffocating pain and guilt. Now she’d discovered that Peter had been the one to end it, while Michael had watched on. Her ex-husband was even more vile than she’d thought. She silently thanked God he wasn’t Riley’s father. Just how she’d stayed married to such a callous man all those years was beyond her.

  Her heart ached for Zane; there was so much he didn’t know, and now she was free to tell him. Peter had nothing on her – he’d been blackmailing her all this time for a crime he’d committed. It was no wonder he’d been at the top of his game, being able to lie and cheat so damn easily. She had to make this right, for everyone concerned, and the sooner the better. In three weeks, Wattle Acres would be sold to overseas investors that didn’t care about heritage and blood ties, and Zane would miss out on what was rightfully his.

  Car doors slammed, followed by the familiar grunt of Michael’s Jag starting up. Then she heard the squeal of the garage roller door. The crunch of tyres disappearing was music to her ears, but even so, Emma lay where she was for what seemed like ages, needing to make sure they didn’t return for anything they’d forgotten. Then, scrambling out from under the bed, adrenaline flooded her. Racing into the kitchen she dropped to her knees and tried to pull the kickboard out, but she’d lodged it back in so firmly on the day of the funeral that it wasn’t moving. Jumping up, she grabbed a knife from the block and used the tip of it to prise the kickboard out of place. After what felt like an hour, but was minutes, she got it to dislodge. Reaching into the darkness, she felt around, stretching her arm as far as she could, dismayed there was nothing. She sat up, staring. Sure it was in there, she wasn’t giving up. Lying down, she rolled onto her back and slipped her arm in the opposite way, feeling beneath the cupboard. Right at the back corner, her fingers touched what felt like an envelope. Stifling a cry of joy, she tried to pull it free, but with it taped in place, it was proving difficult. With careful persistence, she finally had it. Sitting up, she stared at it in shock. Ripping the seal open she slid the paperwork out and quickly flicked through. It was Kay’s will and the deeds. This was going to change everything.

  CHAPTER 20

  Needing time to get her head around it all, especially before she told Zane, Emma was glad to see that the spot under the gum tree where he parked his old LandCruiser was empty, and Riley was still sound asleep. Quietly, she went to her bedroom, closed the door, and then rested her forehead against it for a few moments. Everything she’d believed to be true all these years was a lie, a cover-up for Peter and Michael – and she was their scapegoat. How Michael could have kept all this from her, when they’d lived as a married couple, was beyond her comprehension. Fear and shock quickly evolved into red rage. This had gone on way too long – it was time she did the right thing. She had to tell Zane everything she’d just heard. Although, as right as that was, it would be easier said than done.

  Sinking to her bed, she placed her phone in her lap and stared at it. Ten numbers. That was all that separated her from the past, and her future. She recited Zane’s number, over and over, willing her fingers to move. She had to do this and do it now. Stay calm, ask him to come over, tell him she needed to talk to him. Her stomach clenched into a tight fist as she picked up the phone and pressed one number after the other. Pushing it to her ear she drew in a mammoth breath, every ring like a bomb dropping.

  Please go to message bank, please go to message bank.

  ‘Hey, Em.’

  ‘Hey.’ Her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton, she couldn’t get anything else out.

  ‘I’m just in town, at the post office. You need anything while I’m in here?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ She tried to swallow down the nerves.

  ‘I’ll be back soon, to give you a hand with the cattle, if you like.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she breathed, her voice trembling.

  ‘You don’t sound good. Is everything okay?’

  ‘Not really.’ She bit back tears.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you over the phone.’

  ‘Oh, right, well in that case, I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?’

  ‘Okay, see you soon.’ She hung up just as the sobs she’d been fighting off began to fall. She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees to her chest, petrified of what was about to come. This was going to be one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. First she had to tell Zane about his father, and then tell him he is Riley’s father. It all sounded so crazy and felt as if it wasn’t really happening to her.

  Less than ten minutes later she heard the drone of a diesel engine. Zane must have sped all the way back. Jumping from her bed while wiping at her face, she looked out her window. He hurried out of the driver’s side. His steps were determined, fast, his expression the epitome of concern as he cleared the front steps two at a time. Not wanting to wake Riley, she raced down to
meet him at the front door.

  ‘Hey, you must have broken every speed limit to get here this fast.’ She tried to smile but failed, miserably.

  ‘Yeah, you could say that.’ He sounded worried. ‘What’s going on, Em? Is Riley okay?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s fine.’ Moving out beside him, she gestured towards the cottage – she didn’t want to be anywhere in hearing range of Riley. ‘How about we head over there and grab a spot in the shade to sit.’ She didn’t wait for him to respond as she strode past him. Zane followed her, and she plonked down on the front steps, placing the envelope in her hand down alongside her.

  ‘What’s up?’ he said, as he sat next to her.

  ‘So much I don’t know where to start.’ She felt the blood drain from her face as she caught his anxious gaze. She tried to continue, but the words just wouldn’t form in her dry mouth.

  ‘Please, Em, say something, anything. You’ve got me worried sick.’

  She needed to get it out fast, before she really found herself unable to speak. ‘The man I found in the homestead kitchen that night, he was …’ Sobs rose and before she knew it, she was unable to get a word past them.

  Taking her into his arms, Zane tried his best to soothe her. She felt so wrong, seeking comfort from him right now, yet she couldn’t help but melt into his tender embrace.

  ‘He wasn’t some thug from the Mafia, he was your father …’ she breathed against his chest.

  His body went rigid. His hands going to her shoulders, he pressed her back and looked deep into her eyes. ‘What did you just say?’

  ‘He was your father, Zane.’

  He shook his head. ‘You’re not making any sense.’

  Her pulse was racing so fast she could barely breathe. ‘Kay adopted you when he …’ She stammered. ‘When he went to jail for killing your mother.’

  His face pale, Zane shot to standing and took faltering steps away from her. ‘What the hell, Em? Is this some sort of sick joke?’

  She shook her head. ‘As if I would joke about something like this.’

  Looking like he might pass out, he sunk down to the floor and sat on his heels, his hands rubbing his face. ‘Who else knows about this?’

  She bit her lip.

  ‘Who?’ His voice was an angry hiss.

  ‘Michael, and George, and Peter did too.’ She tried to clear the lump from her throat. ‘And there’s more to it.’

  Zane stared at her in disbelief.

  ‘When I pushed him and he hit his head, it’s not what killed him.’ She sucked in a shaky breath. ‘Peter shot him when they took him wherever they did afterwards.’

  ‘Peter shot my father?’ Zane shook his head. ‘But why?’

  ‘Because when Kay passed away, he was the sole heir to Wattle Acres, and Peter didn’t want him getting his hands on it.’ Emma saw that Zane was looking confused and distraught, so she went on. ‘That’s what he was doing in the house that night, looking for evidence.’

  He just nodded, seemingly unable to speak.

  She passed the envelope over. ‘I gather he was looking for this.’

  Zane snatched it and pulling the paperwork out, unfolded it. ‘Mum’s will,’ he said, his voice shaking, ‘and the deeds for Wattle Acres.’ He looked back up at Emma. ‘But how do you have it?’

  ‘I found it this morning, behind a kickboard in the kitchen at Wattle Acres.’

  ‘Is that why you went over there yesterday, to try to find this?’ He waved it towards her.

  ‘Not really, but it just panned out that way.’

  ‘What were you looking for then?’ His sharp gaze sliced through her.

  ‘Peter had said, in the letter you brought to me, that he had evidence of what I did that night, in his safe. I wanted to try and open it and see what that evidence was. He said he would use it against me, if he had to. The lying bastard.’

  Zane’s fierce gaze softened, but only a little. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Emma sucked in a shaky breath. ‘I thought you had enough on your plate.’

  ‘But why would he blackmail you with something like that? He had no reason to?’

  Wanting to give Zane time to come to terms with the bombshell she’d just dropped about his father, she wasn’t ready to tell him about Riley. So she shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’

  His expression told her he wasn’t buying it. ‘How did you know about this then?’ He held up the paperwork.

  ‘When I went back there this morning, to try and get into the safe, Michael and George were there. I overheard them talking about that night, and how Peter had pulled the trigger on some gun Michael pulled on you—’ She was going to ask Zane when this had happened, but he cut her off.

  ‘Holy shit, so that was the gun used to kill my father?’

  Emma nodded. ‘Apparently, and they were also talking about some overseas livestock company that’s going to buy Wattle Acres and turn it into a feedlot.’

  Zane’s eyes narrowing, his nostrils flared like a bull about to charge. ‘Over my dead body.’ His jaw clenched as he stood and began to pace. ‘My mother’s ashes are there, in those paddocks.’

  ‘I know.’ Her words were a mere whisper. Silence hung between them before she found the strength to speak again. ‘We’re going to have to go to the police with what we know.’ She pointed to the paperwork now clasped between his hands, his eyes upon it once more. ‘We have to prove your father is dead for you to be in line to inherit Wattle Acres.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, this just gets better and better.’ He drew in a deep breath and then huffed it away. ‘We can’t go to the police until after Riley’s deb ball … she’s been counting down the days. I can’t let this upset her big night.’

  ‘Yes, I agree. I don’t want to ruin it for her with all this.’ Emma sniffed back tears.

  ‘Well at least you finally know you weren’t the killer.’

  ‘Yes, it is a relief.’ She stood and went to comfort him.

  Zane shook his head ‘Don’t.’ He stormed towards the steps. ‘I think it’s best if you just leave me alone. I need some time to get my head around all of this, or I might say something I regret.’

  Helpless to stop him, she sunk down into the swing chair and watched him stride across the front lawn. The slam of the cottage door behind him made her jump. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, as the heavy tears she’d been fighting back streamed down her cheeks.

  And yet, he still didn’t know everything.

  CHAPTER 21

  The small boom box Zane had found in the shed while searching for tools was now on the driver’s seat, the car door wide open and the sound up loud. He liked having music playing while he was working – just as long as it was country or seventies rock. It helped him to tune out everything else and stay somewhat sane. And by Christ, he needed to tune out of the mess he was in right now, before he lost his mind.

  The classic Highway Men song carrying him away, he got to work fixing the gaping hole in the top paddock’s fence. Emma’s prized bull was chewing his cud and eyeing him as if he were about to be a victim to his deadly horns. The one-tonne brute wasn’t happy Zane had caught him in the act of trying to escape into the scrub; the bull bar of the old LandCruiser came in very handy for a careful nudge. Having been out repairing the fence since dawn, it was pure luck he’d been in the right place at the right time. God help the damn bull if he tried to charge him – he wasn’t in the mood for any more bullshit.

  One eye on the job and the other on his opponent, Zane cautiously watched the bull take a few steps towards him, then paw the ground and snort. ‘Go on then, you cantankerous old bastard, I bloody dare you to try it again,’ he called out, shaking his head. It felt good to yell at something, even if the animal really didn’t understand a word he was saying.

  The fence stretcher now in place, he crimped the two broken pieces of barbed wire together with a splice – three down and now one section to go. Pausing, he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. It was s
tiflingly hot and humid, and although he was covered in dust from head to toe, he was loving every minute of feeling downright dirty and sweaty. A hard day’s yakka had never hurt anyone, and it was helping take his mind off the bombshell Emma had dropped in his lap yesterday. So far out of left field, he was still struggling to get his head around it all, and his sleepless night didn’t help any. It was going to take time, and plenty of it. He knew the shock of it all would eventually ease – but for now, it felt overwhelmingly raw. He also understood it was his choice whether he held onto the anguish or not. His Aunty Kay would always be his mother; and knowing now that his father had killed his biological mother in cold blood made him glad he never met the bastard. Zane probably would have shot him dead himself, if Peter hadn’t, but for very different reasons. Greed would’ve had nothing to do with it.

  He heaved a weary sigh. The whole damn thing was a crazy mess, the stuff movies were made of, and the harsh reality of it was, this was his goddamn life. Go figure. At the very least, he now understood the icy chasm Peter had created between them. Zane never had a hope in hell of making it across. Amidst the madness of it all, things now made perfect sense, and in a bizarre way, it gave him a feeling of peace that Peter hadn’t simply hated him for the man he’d become or the career path he’d chosen. It ran way deeper than that. No matter what he’d done, or tried to do, he never would have been good enough in Peter’s eyes.

  Momentarily losing focus, he winced as he bumped his swollen knuckles against the stake holding the fence in place; his hand was already tender after punching the brick wall of the stables. It was that or Michael’s jaw. He was glad he hadn’t chosen the latter, needing to do this right if he wanted to rip the rug out from under the immoral man before he had the chance to cover his tracks. Zane wouldn’t put it past the dirty mug to try to pull some strings, and he wasn’t going to risk giving him a head start. Wattle Acres was rightly his, and he would make it so – the very thought made his heavy heart a little lighter. But first things first; he and Emma needed to go to the police after Riley’s big night and tell them everything in a formal statement. Then he needed to find an out-of-town solicitor to take on his case – someone unknown to Michael and Peter, but who had the skills to be ruthless in the courtroom.