Devil's Lair

by Sarah Barrie

  ‘I would have said no. Except that woman who bailed her up in the garden—Marcie—knew. So who knows who else could?’ He paused. ‘There’s something else. Jules had a—I’m not even sure if it was real—but a tattoo just above her wrist. It looked like maybe a snarling dog. She glanced at it when she was making those comments about Callie.’

  Indy and Jared exchanged glances, then Indy was up and digging through some papers in a folder behind her. She pulled out a photograph. ‘Like this?’

  Connor took the photo and looked at it. This time the tattoo was on a man’s forearm. It was a much better quality. It wasn’t a dog, it was a devil, mouth open wide. ‘I think hers was supposed to be that. Why?’

  ‘Do you remember when the last group of rehab boys had just started at your place? They were riding and one of them mentioned he might have known something about a gang within the prison claiming responsibility for a murder I was working on.’

  ‘Vaguely.’

  ‘Well, this is their emblem. And the guy that was running the group—at least while he was on the inside—was Adam Mansfield.’

  ‘How would Jules know Adam?’

  ‘Jules could easily enough be communicating with her ex, Kyle, through a third party. He also sports one of these.’ She tapped the photo. ‘There are fifteen inmates all up who have it somewhere on their bodies. And they’re spread through the various buildings. We’re trying to figure out exactly what’s going on but it’s not easy.’

  ‘And none of that explains how Jules knows about Callie.’

  ‘The only way she could know is if someone on the outside—mostly likely a member of that group—has seen and recognised Callie.’

  ‘And who could that possibly be,’ Connor said, feeling sick, ‘other than Adam, who’s never met her?’

  ‘That’s what we need to figure out,’ Indy said.

  * * *

  She was exhausted by the time she returned to the cottage. Almost ignored the knock on the door that followed only seconds after she’d fallen in a heap on the lounge.

  ‘You there, Callie?’

  Shit. Ned. What could he want?

  ‘Coming!’ She got to her feet again, opened the door. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi. Been waiting for you.’

  ‘Why am I not surprised? What’s up?’

  ‘What’s that mean?’ he asked with a frown.

  ‘Just that everyone’s needed me for something or other all day,’ she improvised.

  ‘Oh, right. Paisley told me you’re going to buy me out.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Was just thinking, you know, if it means that much to you, it might not be necessary.’

  Oh, hell, this is not going to be good. He was going to throw a spanner in the works, she just knew it. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Ned, not right now, okay? I’m tired.’

  ‘Tell you on the doorstep then. I’ve been doing lotsa thinking since Dad died. Was thinking maybe I might not mind holding on to the place after all. I won’t be ready to retire for ages. I could put some time and effort into keeping this place up. We could make it real good.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Could you just at least sit down out here?’

  ‘I—fine.’ She slipped through the doorway and closed the door, sat reluctantly on one of the patio chairs.

  Ned sat down, taking his time. She chewed on the inside of her cheek to stop from snapping at him to hurry up.

  ‘We get on okay, don’t we?’

  ‘Sure, Ned. Of course.’ He didn’t want in on the bed and breakfast, did he?

  ‘I’m looking to settle down,’ he told her, looking into her eyes. ‘So an investment would be good.’

  Damn it—he was. ‘With who?’

  ‘Wouldn’t mind a son, so I need someone young enough for that. I’m pretty taken with you, Callie. I could give you all this.’ He waved a hand at the house.

  The jolt of realisation almost had her slipping from her chair. ‘Wh—me? Are you suggesting I marry you for the house?’

  ‘We could try a date, first.’ He laughed as though she were the one being ridiculous. ‘What do you say?’

  She put her head in her hands and prayed for patience. ‘Ned, I thought we’d sorted this out. I’m not interested in you.’

  ‘I did think about that. But I figured you just don’t know me well yet.’

  ‘And I don’t want to. I’m sorry but you need to get that.’

  His face darkened and he pounded a fist on the table, shocking her again. ‘It’s Atherton, isn’t it? I knew you were messing around with him.’

  She got to her feet and backed towards the door, eyes never leaving Ned.

  ‘I won’t hold it against you!’ he said as though impatient with her. ‘I can handle that there’s been others.’ He got to his feet and when he stepped in close she twisted her arm behind her and opened the door. ‘But if you want this place, a happy life, you might want to think about giving us a try.’

  The conversation was wrong on so many levels that she couldn’t immediately come up with a reply.

  ‘If you’re not one of us, you’re not worth anything!’ he exclaimed, and then, thankfully, stalked away.

  Callie went into the cottage and locked the door, realising how much he’d frightened her when her hand shook on the lock. Ned had been annoying, pushy, even a little freaky at times, but he’d never, never had that look on his face, that tone in his voice. He’d never had the blood freezing in her veins. This was out of control.

  She almost picked up the phone to call Connor. Not because she was scared or because she thought she might need help, but because she wanted to share what had happened. Such a simple realisation, but a powerful one. Connor wasn’t just a lover, he was a friend. And she’d pushed him away because of her own insecurities, because he turned her inside out and had her feeling things she couldn’t even remember feeling with Dale. Connor was kind and sweet and thoughtful … and overworked and stressed out and grieving for a friend. And he wanted to be there for her, even when he didn’t have time to blink. Even when she pissed him off. And she was throwing it away.

  She stewed over that for a while, until she began to feel like an idiot. Was there any chance of salvaging what they had? There was one step she needed to take before heading off to find out. Perhaps she could get the restaurant another shot at a good review. She gathered her courage, not knowing for sure what kind of reception her call would receive.

  ‘Mrs Bates. It’s Callie. How are you?’

  A few minutes later she got in the car and drove back to Calico Mountain.

  Connor wasn’t in his office but the adjoining door to his apartment was unlocked. She let herself in without knocking first—just in case he wasn’t inclined to talk to her. The thought made her nervous, but she’d gotten herself here; she needed to get the words out. The shower was running. Last time she’d waited to have a serious conversation with a man she loved he was getting out of the shower. She shook off the stupid thought and because she couldn’t keep still she paced around, waited impatiently.

  ‘Callie?’ Connor came out with a towel around his waist, his damp skin shining under the bright lights of the lounge room. His hair was ruffled from the towel. Damn it, he looked amazing. The sight of him helped dispel the memories of Dale.

  ‘You were right.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Me and my stupid excuses.’

  Connor stayed where he was and considered her for several nerve-racking seconds. ‘What are you saying?’

  She went across the room to stand in front of him. ‘I’m saying I hope I haven’t ruined it. Us.’

  His sigh was long as the tension seeped out of his face. ‘That’s not something you need to worry about.’ He wrapped his arms around her.

  ‘I know I need to let go of it—I want to try,’ she said into his chest. ‘And I’m sorry about what I said. About Jules.’

  It was several
moments before he spoke. ‘I hadn’t really thought about the rest of it. I’d never really let myself get that far. I just keep seeing her go down those stairs.’ His hands slid up and down her arms, then he pressed his lips to her forehead. ‘I would have blamed myself for whatever happened. You’re right. I cared about her, thought if we loved each other enough, things would turn out okay. But … that thing I had to take care of this afternoon? I went to see her.’

  Callie looked up, stunned. ‘You went to the prison? You talked to her?’

  ‘I needed to see her one more time, close off that chapter of my life once and for all.’

  ‘I think that’s great,’ she said. ‘Did it help?’

  ‘It did. It really did. I can let go of that, and I’ll explain it all to you if you want to hear it.’ He dropped his head to rest his forehead on hers. ‘Everyone else has been telling me this for so long. Why did it take you telling me to make me hear it?’

  ‘Maybe you were just finally ready to listen.’

  ‘Maybe I needed a reason to.’ He caught her fingers, lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, turned it over to kiss the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist, then drew her back to him. ‘I’m glad you changed your mind.’

  ‘I thought you might have made it a bit harder.’

  ‘Finding out about Adam and that Dale might not have been trying to hurt you had to be hell. I’m not going to hold it against you,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘Callie?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I want you to have as much space as you need to be who you want to be, but all those times in between. I’m going to be taking up a lot of those. Is that okay with you?’

  She smiled against his lips. ‘I think I can work with that.’ Some of that smile faded as she remembered the other part of her reason for coming. ‘And I wanted to tell you, I just had a visit from Ned …’

  CHAPTER

  31

  During the next few days everything slowly returned to normal. After the office had been cleared for use the equipment had been moved back in. Callie had had a moment, stepping into the room where Kaicey had been murdered, but then so, it seemed, had everyone else. And then it had been the weekend, and just as busy.

  Callie finished mopping and straightened her back. The floors were clean and, happy with that for now, she took the mop to the laundry. ‘Paisley?’

  ‘Yeah?’ her friend said from the top of the stairs. Paisley had turned up yesterday, and a small gathering had been held by the river for Cliff, with his ashes buried in front of Ava’s plaque and his name added to it, as he’d requested.

  ‘Do you want to get started on the lounge room?’

  Paisley wanted to move on the house, set up a business name, make plans. ‘Are you ready for that?’ Callie had asked, because Paisley had barely had time to grieve, but she’d said yes, because Ned wanted money in the bank. At least he’d given up on holding on to his share, so they’d made a morning meeting with her solicitor, got the ball rolling.

  ‘I don’t think we have enough furniture polish.’

  ‘I bought four cans.’

  Paisley grinned. ‘I know. And yet …’

  She hadn’t mentioned Ned’s behaviour because Paisley had been upset over Cliff, and Ned had left her alone. Completely alone. He’d stared at her with an empty expression at the service, hadn’t looked at her at the small gathering back at the house afterwards. She put his earlier behaviour down to grief, knew it could affect people in different ways, and told herself to forget it. It wasn’t as though he’d threatened her—exactly. He’d sulk and get over it. Or he wouldn’t. And if he came on too strong again, she’d go to Indy. Besides, Callie told herself, pretty soon he’d be out of her hair for good.

  She walked into the lounge room. It was already tidy, just needed a good dust and polish. The house would feel different once they’d cleaned it all up, made it theirs. Guests would fill it, there’d always be work to do. That would chase away the old energy, would make the house happy and full of light and sound.

  ‘Want to take a break?’ Paisley asked from behind her. ‘With everything going on, I forgot to show you something I brought down with me.’

  ‘Okay,’ Callie said, curious, and put the kettle on while Paisley dug in her bag, pulling out some bank statements. ‘What are these?’ she asked, taking them.

  ‘The highlighted numbers are loans Dale made to a company over a five-year period.’

  Callie scrolled through them. ‘Isn’t that one of his investment companies?’

  ‘That was what he loosely termed it. That trading name is registered to his parents. I looked up the investments because they weren’t in your portfolio and I thought you should look into cashing them in. Then I remembered once, ages ago, Dale told me his parents were going through a rough time, so he was loaning them money and filing it under investments. Sure enough, that’s them.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They lent him money to start up his business. He just saw that as a way of paying them back. But it went way past that. They ended up owing him more than you both ever owed them. He didn’t tell anyone because apparently they were embarrassed.’

  ‘Why are you only telling me now?’

  ‘When they decided to sue, I thought they must have already paid the amounts back. But then I checked while I was finalising everything up there and I can’t find any record that they ever did.’

  ‘And now they’re trying to sue for more? I can’t believe this.’

  ‘If they don’t let it go, those figures might be handy.’

  ‘Thank you, so much! I’m going to go put these somewhere safe.’ Callie couldn’t believe it—the nerve of those people! She’d take the paperwork back to the cottage, file it with her other important papers. She opened the front door and nearly barrelled into the figure on the other side.

  ‘Sorry!’ she said automatically. ‘I didn’t—You!’ She scrambled back from the doorway, heart thundering in her chest. It was the man from the court case, the one who had stood outside her gate and watched the house.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he began.

  ‘Like hell it is, get out!’

  ‘Callie!’ Indy said, puffing from her sprint up the steps. ‘This is Jared Marshall. He’s a cop.’

  Callie studied him suspiciously. ‘A cop?’

  ‘Yeah. I apologise for scaring you,’ he said with a friendly smile.

  ‘When? Just now? Or for weeks up in the Hunter?’

  ‘To be fair, I only called by your place twice.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Callie demanded. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I recognised Jared from the sketch you provided,’ Indy said. ‘It turns out he knows a lot about the case. His father worked the Ava Waldron drowning, and a few … other things. We’re here to see if we can talk to Paisley.’

  ‘I guess,’ she said. Just being a cop didn’t eradicate the worry this man caused her. But she let them in, called out, ‘Paisley?’

  ‘I’ve just boiled the kettle, do you—what are you doing here?’ Paisley demanded of Jared. ‘Damn it, I thought it was you back at Highgrove—told myself it couldn’t possibly be. But it was, right?’

  ‘Hi, Paisley,’ Jared greeted coolly. ‘We’ve got some questions.’

  ‘You mean your father didn’t do enough damage with his?’

  ‘If he had’ve, your mother and quite a few others would have gone to prison.’

  ‘It might be better if we do this at the station,’ Indy suggested with a warning glare at Jared.

  ‘Am I under arrest for something?’ Paisley snapped.

  ‘No, of course not. I just thought if you found any of the details difficult, you might prefer to talk in private.’

  ‘I’ll talk to you here,’ Paisley said. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  Indy blew out a breath and considered that, nodded. ‘All right.’

  ‘Would you like to sit down?’ Callie asked, swallowing her trepidation and wondering, What n
ow? At a nod from Indy, she took them into the lounge room.

  ‘This is just an informal chat,’ Indy said to Paisley. ‘You don’t have to answer any questions you’re not comfortable answering, okay?’

  ‘Just get on with it,’ Paisley said, still scowling at Jared.

  ‘Okay.’ Indy cleared her throat. ‘We’ve been working on the idea Adam has murdered everyone who testified against him during his drug case.’

  ‘Yeah, we know. And?’

  ‘Actually it’s a but,’ Jared said. ‘But, we were hoping you could tell us what happened on the nights of your mother’s so-called support group meetings.’

  Paisley rubbed her hands over her face. ‘We went through it a million times back then. Why?’

  ‘Because we think what was going on at those meetings could give us a better insight into Adam’s state of mind and what his next move might be,’ Indy said.

  ‘I don’t see how.’

  Photos dropped onto the table. ‘Your mother ran a cult, Paisley,’ Jared said impatiently. ‘A nasty one. Adam grew up with that—with the beliefs, the practices, the philosophies, the rules. He’s also a sociopath with a very high IQ and a narcissistic personality disorder. He doesn’t believe we’ll catch him or if we do, that we’ll be able to prove he was responsible for the murders. From what we can gather, he’s collecting a new generation of followers around him, suggesting he’s thinking of starting up again. So, Paisley, what’s he likely to do next?’

  Callie gasped as she stared at the photos. They were hazy—taken by an old camera without a flash. That just made the images more menacing. Dark-cloaked figures stood around an altar. Flaming torches, a goat, blood leaking from a wound at its neck. Symbols painted on the walls—some she recognised from around the house and grounds. Evil. Horrifying, stomach-turning evil. She looked up to see Paisley staring blankly at the table.

  ‘Where did you get these?’

  ‘Kaicey left a box of things for us to find.’

  ‘We weren’t part of that!’ Paisley exploded and swiped the photos from the table. ‘That was the adults. We knew they were doing it because we’d sometimes sneak looks through the cellar window—that’s why Adam did it—but we weren’t allowed in. We were too young. We weren’t allowed to play with monsters. Adam wanted in more than anything, he did horrible things thinking that would convince Mum to let him be part of the group. But she said no. She always said no. It pissed him off. No one said no to Adam. But even he wasn’t brave enough to take on my mother. She had too much power.’