The Wrong Callahan

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The Wrong Callahan Page 23

by Karly Lane


  She hadn’t told Savannah the real reason behind turning down her offer to stay, but her friend had known something was wrong. She promised to tell her one day, but it was too raw now. Before she left she’d arranged for Vanessa to open the spa a few times a week. It wasn’t ideal but it was enough to keep the Sacred Spirit operational until Savannah could figure out an alternative.

  Cash hadn’t had a destination in mind when she’d left Rankins Springs, she’d just got in her car and driven. She’d stopped in this little pub at Narrabri for lunch on her way through and seen a bartending job advertised. It had only supposed to be for a few weeks until she figured out a plan, but a few weeks had stretched into three months and she was still here.

  It seemed the old Cash was back in operation again. When it came to a breakup, her first instinct was to pack up and move on. Only this time it didn’t feel like she was making a fresh start. It hurt. A lot. And more than that, it left her angry. She wasn’t sure who she was more angry at: herself for being so stupid as to fall for a guy like Linc in the first place, or at Linc for proving she’d been right about the kind of guy he was. And yet he hadn’t really proved her right. She knew deep down it had been something real and precious for both of them. Still, when it all fell apart, he’d pushed her away rather than let her in to help, so maybe it hadn’t been that important to him after all.

  The job came with a room upstairs. It had been tastefully renovated and she lacked for nothing, but it wasn’t Savannah’s cosy little cottage, and the town, although full of the same down-to-earth country people, wasn’t Rankins Springs.

  She’d never stayed in any one place for long if she wasn’t content, but for the first time ever she just didn’t have the energy to move on. Why bother? She didn’t have a burning desire to see any particular place, and even though she could have called a few contacts and gotten herself work overseas, the thought of leaving Linc so far behind caused a pain in her chest. That knowledge disturbed her more than she cared to admit. When had she ever let a man hold her back before?

  She handed the beer over to the customer and took the money, looking up as another man walked up to the bar.

  ‘G’day Cash.’

  ‘Griff?’ Automatically she looked over his shoulder but there was no one else with him. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to find you.’

  Cash blinked uncertainly. Never in her wildest imagination would she have considered the possibility that Griffin Callahan would come casually strolling into the pub where she worked. ‘How did you know I was here?’ she asked, confused.

  ‘I called Savannah.’

  Cash briefly considered pouring herself a stiff drink in order to process what was happening, but she figured she’d need to keep her wits about her. ‘Why?’

  ‘Is there someplace we can talk?’ Griff asked.

  Cash glanced over her shoulder and saw the bar manager in the storeroom. ‘Give me a sec and I’ll take a break.’ A few minutes later she came around the bar and beckoned Griff to follow her to a table away from the last of the lunchtime customers.

  ‘What made you choose this place?’ Griff asked as they settled into their seats.

  Cash gave a dismissive shrug. ‘It’s as good as anywhere.’ ‘You could have stayed. No one blames you for what happened,’ he told her.

  His bruising and abrasions had healed and he looked good. No one would ever guess that his brother had beaten the living daylights out of him not so long ago. ‘I blame myself,’ she said with a sad shake of her head.

  ‘It wasn’t about you and me or you and Linc,’ he said, holding her troubled gaze. ‘It was about Linc. He came home early for Christmas because his business partners had told him he needed to sort his shit out. They could see he was struggling and they wanted him to get help. Linc being Linc wouldn’t acknowledge that he had some unresolved issues, and he let them fester until they exploded. What happened wasn’t your fault.’

  She knew all that, but it didn’t make her feel any less guilty. ‘He wanted to tell you about me … before the other stuff happened,’ she said, toying with the coaster on the table. ‘I was the one who told him not to. I didn’t want things to get any worse between you two, to upset Hadley or ruin your mother’s Christmas … just so you know. It wasn’t his choice not to tell you.’

  ‘Yeah, I get that. It was a shock at first, but I’ve had time to think about it and it’s not like you hadn’t tried to let me down gently,’ he said drolly, sending her a half-smile. ‘I guess I wanted a change—you know? I feel like I’ve just been standing still forever. Everyone I know’s moving on with their life and I’m just doin’ the same thing I’ve been doin’ since I left school—workin’ the farm. Then you came to town,’ he said, glancing up briefly before dropping his gaze once again. ‘You were like no one I had really met before. I thought you were a sign or something … like, if you want to make a change, here’s your shot.’

  Cash gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. Oh yeah, she knew all about trying to make changes. ‘So why did you track me down?’

  Griff clenched his fingers rhythmically on the table top before answering, almost as though weighing up what he wanted to say. ‘It’s Linc.’

  Alarm instantly filled her and she sat a little straighter. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘That’s the million-dollar question,’ Griff shrugged. ‘Mum and Dad are worried about him … we’re all worried about him. He says he’s been getting help and he’s doing better, but he moved to Papua New Guinea.’

  ‘Moved there? As in permanently?’

  ‘Apparently they’ve set up a new office there and he volunteered to run it.’

  ‘Well, I guess that’s positive. I mean they wouldn’t let him go if they thought he couldn’t handle it, right?’

  ‘Yeah, probably not … only he’s shut everyone out. Mum and Dad spent a bit of time up in Brisbane with him after it all happened, Hadley too, but he rarely answered his phone and barely kept in touch. Now he’s up and moved overseas without even telling us.’

  ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘The business. Dad called them to find out what the hell’s going on with him and they told us where he was.’

  Cash frowned over this news, angry that Linc could be so dismissive of his family’s feelings like that. Then she looked up at Griff again. ‘What’s all this got to do with me?’

  ‘I hate seeing Mum and Dad like this—so worried about him … I think the only person who could get through to him is you.’

  Cash was shaking her head before he’d even finished talking. ‘He left me too, remember? I haven’t heard a word from him since. He’s not going to listen to anything I have to say—I doubt he’d even answer my phone call.’

  ‘That’s why I thought you might go and see him.’

  Cash blinked across at him. ‘In PNG,’ she said incredulously.

  ‘I’ll take care of the expenses, you’d only have to go over for a few days … Please, Cash, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you just try? For Mum and Dad?’

  Up until the mention of Lavinia and Bob it had been an adamant ‘no’, but then she saw their faces, pictured Lavinia crying and Bob looking weary with worry, and a reluctant sigh escaped her lips. She loved this family; Cash couldn’t forget how much kindness they’d shown her. She knew that there was no way she could turn her back on them now.

  ‘I think you’re wrong about Linc,’ she said quietly. ‘He made it clear that he didn’t want me in his life. We were just a holiday fling.’

  ‘I know my brother better than you think. You’re the only one who can get through to him, Cash. Please?’

  Thirty-two

  Cash cleared customs and walked out to collect her baggage. There was an air of organised chaos to the place. People milled about, speaking loudly in pidgin English, which made her realise that here, as a white, English-speaking Australian, she was very much in the minority. But there was an overall friendly, welcoming atmosphere. She collected h
er small bag from the carousel before heading out to the arrivals area. She didn’t have to search far to spot her name scrawled on a sign held by a stocky Papuan man. He wore her hotel’s insignia on his shirt.

  ‘Hello, I’m Cash Sullivan,’ she said.

  ‘I am Michael, I’ll be looking after you today.’

  She could have gone straight to the offices of Standby and just gotten the whole thing over with straightaway, but it seemed wise to take a little time to prepare. She was now feeling extremely nervous about seeing Linc again. The longer she could put it off, the more time she had to work up her courage.

  Michael took her bag and they headed out into the bright sunshine. The effect of humidity was instantaneous. It hit her square in the face as they left the airconditioned comfort of the airport building behind. She had left Sydney in autumn weather, but in Port Moresby it was the end of the wet season and still very warm.

  The airport was eleven kilometres from the capital and Cash used the car ride to take in the scenery. She’d never been to PNG before, and the travel geek in her was busy soaking up the sights and smells with great enthusiasm, ignoring for the moment the main reason she was here. Flying in, she’d noticed the lush greenness below—so intense it almost hurt to look at it. The green-grey mountains of the Owen Stanley Ranges in the distance, location of the infamous Kokoda Track, was a dominant feature of the landscape.

  As they merged into traffic, cars of all shapes and sizes whizzed past them. Cash was fairly sure none of them would be passed for registration back home. Mirrors were held in place with duct tape; windscreens were often nonexistent, and most vehicles had mismatched panels. As a rust-coloured car tore past them, blowing copious amounts of black smoke, she wondered how many accidents happened on these roads each day. There was no sign of police and apparently very few traffic rules. Women walked along the side of the road, carrying brightly coloured bags filled with everything from small children to firewood. Some had small stalls set up, selling craft items and food.

  Her hotel was right in the centre of Port Moresby. Inside, she could have been anywhere in the world. It was luxurious, clean and not a whisper of pidgin English could be heard. She couldn’t help a small gasp of delight as she stepped into her room and saw the breathtaking view of the ocean from her window. The turquoise water beckoned invitingly, but she turned to get together what she’d need for a quick shower.

  At the front desk later, she approached the clerk, receiving a wide friendly smile.

  ‘Can you tell me the best way to get to this address?’ Cash asked and slid the paper with Standby’s details written on it across the desk.

  ‘Certainly,’ the young woman said, lifting her hand to catch the attention of a man who stood in the lobby by the front door. ‘I’ll have someone drive you there.’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t mind walking. I’m just not sure how to get here.’

  ‘Oh no, you really shouldn’t walk on your own,’ she frowned, before her smile reappeared. ‘We have drivers.’

  There was little point arguing; the man was waiting politely for her to follow him out to a vehicle.

  The office was located in a rather modern-looking building only a few blocks from the hotel. Her stomach started kicking up a riot and her hands felt clammy as she entered the elevator and watched the numbers of the floors light up on the screen. The ping announcing her arrival made her pulse leap slightly, but she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing on staying calm.

  She found a door with Standby stamped across a metal plate in bold, professional letters, and an attractive woman in her early twenties looked up and smiled as Cash walked inside.

  ‘Hello,’ Cash greeted her, drawing on every ounce of her fortitude. ‘I’m hoping to see Lincoln Callahan if he’s available?’

  ‘Do you have an appointment?’ she asked, hitting a few keys on the keyboard of her computer.

  ‘No, I don’t, but I’ve flown in from Brisbane. I’m a friend of the family.’

  ‘I’m afraid Mr Callahan is out of the office. He’s on site with a client giving a training seminar and isn’t expected at the office at all today.’

  ‘Oh.’ Damn it. She’d known it would be a risk turning up unannounced, but she’d wanted the element of surprise in case he refused to see her.

  A man walked out from a corridor behind the reception desk and looked up at Cash with a curious smile. ‘Hello. Richard Mullins, can I help in some way?’

  Cash introduced herself. ‘I was hoping to see Linc, but I’ve just heard he’s out.’

  Richard exchanged a quick glance with the receptionist before turning his attention back to Cash. ‘Was it something I might be able to help with instead?’

  ‘No, it was a personal matter actually,’ Cash said, her mind racing as to what her next option might be.

  ‘I see,’ Richard said slowly, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. ‘Cash, would you mind coming into my office for a moment? I might be able to sort something out.’

  Cash wasn’t sure what he could sort out, but she got the feeling that she could trust this man, so she stepped forward and followed him to an office down the hallway.

  ‘Normally I wouldn’t pry, but can I ask what your business with Linc is regarding?’

  Cash studied the man briefly before deciding to go ahead. She’d come all this way, after all; she might as well take a chance. ‘Linc’s brother asked me to come over here. The family is very concerned about him. Apparently they’ve tried to contact him and he’s being … evasive,’ she said, choosing her words carefully.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Linc’s parents. I assured them that we’d keep a close eye on Linc and let them know if anything seemed concerning.’

  ‘I’d feel better if I could speak to him myself,’ Cash said candidly.

  Richard seemed to consider her for a long while, his arms folded formidably across his chest, but Cash refused to back down, holding his frank gaze with her own until eventually he uncrossed his arms and said, ‘Give me the name of your hotel and I’ll pass it on to him.’

  ‘All right,’ Cash said, standing up. ‘But tell him I’ll be back tomorrow if he doesn’t show. I’m not leaving till I see him.’

  Richard gave a slow smile and nodded, ‘I believe you, but I can only pass on the message.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Cash said, and waited as he opened the door for her, following him back out to reception.

  ‘I’ll get someone to take you back to the hotel.’

  ‘I can hail a taxi, or walk, it’s not far.’

  ‘Ah, no. I’ll have someone drive you. And Miss Sullivan?’ he said, taking a business card from the desk and writing something on the back before handing it across to her. ‘If you need to go anywhere, use this company, and only this company, for a taxi.’

  ‘I know this place has a bit of a reputation for being dangerous, but is it that bad?’

  ‘Look, it’s a great place on the whole and the people are friendly, but Papua New Guinea is known as the land of the unexpected for a reason,’ he said gravely. ‘Things can turn very quickly, and I take security, especially personal security, very seriously.’

  Cash thanked him and slipped the card into her bag.

  Linc sat down at his desk to sort out the paperwork from the day’s training seminar. It had gone well and he wanted to make sure the assessment and follow-up materials were sent out straightaway. There was a quick knock on his door and Richie walked in and handed him a note.

  He stared at the name of the hotel before looking up at his mate with a raised eyebrow. ‘You hittin’ on me or something?’

  Richie scoffed, but pushed away from the doorway where he’d been leaning. ‘You had a visitor today. Does the name Cash Sullivan ring any bells?’

  Linc sat upright in his chair and Richie gave a chuckle. ‘I figured you’d be interested.’

  ‘What the hell is she doing here?’

  ‘Don’t ask me, mate. That’s where she’s stayin’,�
�� he said, nodding at the paper Linc held in his hand. ‘She seemed pretty determined to catch up.’

  It was hard to ignore the way his heart leapt into his throat at the mention of her name, or how hard his pulse seemed to be pounding. He had to be dreaming, surely? How on earth would she have even known he was over here?

  He glanced at the papers in front of him, then pushed away from his desk without a backward glance. There was no way he was going to be able to concentrate on anything knowing Cash was right here in Port Moresby. He was kidding himself if he thought he’d be able to stay away. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d treated her. At the time, all he’d known was that he needed to get away and sort himself out—try to wrap his head around the fact he’d almost killed his own brother. It had scared him more than anything else in his whole life. It was also the wakeup call he’d desperately needed to kick his arse into getting help.

  Richie and Tommo had been concerned about him for months in the lead-up to his return home. They’d been picking up on his irritable mood, but he’d shrugged it off, insulted that they might think he had a problem. Then one day, seemingly out of the blue, he’d been about to get out of his car one morning and found he couldn’t. He’d been thinking about how hot it was that day. It had reminded him of Afghanistan. A spilt second later he was back in that street, lying on his back, a dull ringing in his ears blocking out all other sound as he tried to lift his head. He watched as everything seemed to happen in slow motion. A large cloud of smoke and earth cloaked him as debris from vehicles and the surrounding buildings landed on the sidewalk. After the dust cleared he laid his head back in the dirt and peered up to the sky. He was amazed at how blue and cloudless it was. Then he noticed the strong stench of burning flesh, rubber and cordite. The smell triggered his other senses. In the distance, noises started as a soft hum before growing louder; and then things were no longer in slow motion, but speeding up, faster and faster until the whole scene was a chaotic mess of screaming and shouting and the ringing in his ears became unbearable. He saw men lying dead and injured around him, broken and bleeding.

 

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