His Christmas Pearl
Page 12
‘If you crash with me in the car, the whole town will know. All the details will come out, and your reputation will be gone forever. Why not blame your daughter? She’s bribing you, isn’t she?’
‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’ But he slowed a fraction and got the car under control. Zoe let out a hiss of breath, not relief, not yet, but the ease in speed seemed like a promise that he wasn’t completely irrational.
‘There is one thing I don’t understand. Why the Rainbow Cove Oyster Farm?’
‘It should have been mine.’ He stomped on the brakes, and the car skidded to a halt in a dusty driveway, careering sideways on the loose surface. ‘The farm should have been mine. If it wasn’t for that bitch marrying that foreigner …’
Zoe didn’t wait to hear the rest of his nonsensical rant. She unclipped her seatbelt, threw open the door, and leaped out. She hit the ground hard, the gravel tearing at the knees of her business suit. A small cottage, similar to Kiet’s house, stood at the end of the driveway. She scrambled to her feet and ran as fast as she could. Her lungs burned. Her heart pounded. Gravel caught in her sandals, shredding her feet as she bolted down the driveway. Away from Mr Andersen. She was younger than him. If she could reach the cottage, she had a chance. Her handbag slapped her hip, but all she could hear was his footsteps and the thundering of her heart.
Chapter 16
Kiet parked the forklift beside the packing shed. He’d spent the morning shifting spat trays for Sam to get them ready for the next batch of seed, and as he turned the machine off, an itch niggled at him. He jumped off the forklift and made his way around the corner. His phone dinged and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket to check it.
Sam: Check your emails.
Kiet pushed the call button and waited for Sam to answer.
‘What?’
‘Hello to you as well.’ Sam’s snarky answer sent a prickle of cold across the back of his neck. After their parents’ violent death, Kiet and Sam had done all the correct ceremonies to ensure the farm wasn’t haunted by a Phi Tai Hong ghost, but there remained an odd sixth sense at the site of the accident. Kiet had often wondered if his mother’s spirit remained there as a Phi Chamob, a harmless ghost who sought to protect them from more evil spirits. It didn’t make sense—his mum was white, but she’d been open to Pa’s Buddhist and Animism beliefs. Could it be that this nagging worry causing his gut to clench was his parents trying to warn him that something bad was about to happen?
‘Sam. Hello. Why do I need to check my email?’
‘Zoe sent an email through. She’s found the answer.’ Sam stood on the small deck of their cottage, waving his arms to beckon Kiet towards him.
‘And?’ Kiet yelled into the phone to cover up his guilt at doubting Zoe. It was his own head he doubted, seeing villainy in everyone, even Zoe. He’d double-checked her work and it stacked up, but he still couldn’t get rid of the underlying doubt. Until they knew who was stealing from them, it could be anyone.
‘Those companies are owned by our accountant’s daughter.’
Kiet gulped. ‘But Mr Andersen has been our accountant for years. He was Mum and Pa’s friend.’
‘I know. It sucks, but Zoe’s evidence is fucking damning.’ Sam’s scientific background made him less likely to believe in the old animism traditions, and if he said the evidence was strong, then it was.
‘Get the keys to the ute. Let’s go.’ Kiet didn’t wait for an answer. He’d bet anything Zoe would be confronting Mr Andersen. He ran towards the cottage, his heart thumping much harder than the exercise would cause. Sam ducked inside, then jumped off the deck and into the driver’s seat of his ute. Kiet ripped open the door and clambered in.
‘What’s the rush?’
‘I have a bad gut feel, maybe Phi Chamob is trying to tell me something.’
Sam nodded sagely. ‘Like what?’ Kiet was glad he didn’t have to explain anything to his baby brother.
‘I think Mr Andersen is going to do something …’
‘To Zoe?’
‘Yes. To Zoe. She’s not the type to keep quiet about this. What did she say in the email?’
‘Just that the evidence was attached and she was about to go and find the last piece … Oh, fuck, she’s gone to confront him, hasn’t she?’
‘God, I hope not.’
Sam swung the ute around, and barrelled down the driveway with dust flying. The radio belted out some old rock song, and Kiet turned it off. He couldn’t deal with that kind of racket. Both of them could have driven into town with their eyes closed, they’d been travelling this road since they were kids, but Kiet saw it all with uber-alertness today.
‘There.’ A car was parked awkwardly across a driveway. Kiet cursed aloud as he saw Zoe running up the driveway of old Mr Thomas’s place. Mr Andersen stood, legs spread, about thirty metres away from his car. The way Andersen watched Zoe sent a chill racing from Kiet’s scalp to his toes. Sam slid the ute to a halt, blocking in the other car, and Kiet leaped out as they came to a stop. Kiet ran towards the villain.
‘Zoe!’ he screamed with everything he could. His skin was icy cold. Andersen stood militantly, staring at his Zoe. ‘Zoe!’ The world narrowed. Kiet’s heart galloped in his chest, louder than a plane taking off, and his blood rushed into his limbs with a heated roar.
‘Gun!’ Sam shouted.
Kiet threw himself at Mr Andersen with an almighty leap. His flesh stung as he connected with the older man. The gun went off. Loudly. Kiet’s ear rang with the noise as they hit the ground together. The hard ground shoved all the wind out of Kiet. He grappled Mr Andersen, his hands trying to contain the other man. The two of them rolled together. Andersen’s elbow connected against his ribcage with a sharp pain. He heaved himself over so he pinned Andersen, who kicked and bucked underneath him. Andersen’s elbows, hips and knees were all going to leave bruises, but Kiet had strength and youth on his side. The smell of acrid sweat surrounded him. Dust and his rushed breath dried his mouth. Andersen pulled one arm free and whacked the gun against his spine. Kiet arched his back in pain. An ungodly scream passed his lips. He tried to ignore the battering Andersen was giving his back, slapping him relentlessly with his gun-filled hand. Metal against flesh. Everything hurt. Kiet knew that one more whack on his ribs would be the end of his resistance. He pushed against the ground with one arm to give himself some space. Andersen tried to flip him, but Kiet had the advantage of momentum. He drove his forehead into Andersen’s nose. The metallic tang of blood filled his nostrils. He sneezed as the splatter of moisture hit his face, squeezing his eyes for a microsecond. He forced himself to stay when his instincts told him to roll away from the hot warm spray across his skin.
‘Kiet.’ Zoe kicked her foot out, and the gun spun out of Andersen’s hand, skating across the gravel driveway.
Andersen screamed into Kiet’s face, his spittle adding to the gross slimy wetness.
‘I’ve got it.’ Sam joined the foray. ‘Andersen. Stop fighting.’
‘I’m calling triple 0.’ Zoe panted out each word on ragged breaths, but she also sounded distant, as if she wasn’t part of the fight at all. Kiet relaxed a fraction. A palm boxed him around the ear. As the side of his head hit the gravel driveway, he heard Sam’s fierce shout. Sam landed on top of him, and everything went black.
***
Kiet had no idea how long he’d been knocked out. He blinked as the hot summer sun pierced his eyes. Everything hurt, even his shins and toes. He groaned.
‘Don’t move. The police are on their way.’ Zoe mopped at his face with a damp rag. His lungs screamed for air and the ground seemed to shift underneath him.
‘Stop moving!’ Sam barked out.
‘I’m not,’ Kiet protested, opening his eyes properly and squinting at his brother who lay on top of him.
‘I meant Andersen.’
‘Right.’ That’d be why the earth shifted—together with his brother, they were pinning Andersen down, and he wasn’t happy about i
t. He roared at them, and blood poured down his face. Sirens added to the noise, and Zoe jumped up. Kiet didn’t dare lift his head to see what she was doing, but from the way her legs shifted, she must be waving at the … cops. That’s right, she’d said she was calling triple zero.
‘Sounds like we have company.’ Sam made it sound like they were sitting on the deck at their cottage watching a friend drive onto the farm. Kiet gurgled in the back of his throat.
‘Over here. Quickly!’ Zoe yelled out, and her feet disappeared from Kiet’s view. More footfalls on the gravel driveway crunched from somewhere behind him, and then a pair of black boots slid to a halt next to them. He clipped a pair of handcuffs around Sam.
‘Wrong person.’
‘Police protocol.’ More handcuffs were clipped onto both his own and Andersen’s wrists.
‘Up you get.’ A large hand grabbed the back of Kiet’s shirt and pain shot into the back of his skull. His shout of agony echoed in his ears, doubling the hurt.
‘Careful. He’s been hit on the spine with the gun. He might have a spinal injury.’ Zoe’s voice trembled.
‘I’ll do it.’ Kiet managed to spit out a response before the officer did any more damage. He slid off Andersen onto the gravel, and slowly pulled his knees underneath him. The rough stones dug into his jeans, and he was glad he wasn’t wearing shorts. Stupid thing to think of, right at this moment. He started to shake his head, but pain stopped him. Someone wrapped a strong arm around Kiet’s waist and helped him stand. He saw stars and flung his hand out to steady himself. Without the officer holding him up, he might have fainted.
‘Come and sit down.’ The officer guided him slowly down the driveway towards a waiting ambulance.
‘I thought you were a cop?’
‘Ambo. The cops are dealing with those two. They’ll want you to make a report, but first, let me check out your back.’
‘Ribs hurt the most. That fucker hit me with his gun.’
‘Gun? Were you shot?’
Kiet cringed as the ambo helped him sit on the edge of the ambulance. With every breath his ribs twinged with a sharp pain.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Okay. You’d probably know if you were shot. Let me clean up your face and then we’ll have a look.’ The ambo pulled out a box of supplies and started dabbing at his face with a cold cloth. The coolness of the cleansing cloth was soothing, and Kiet wanted to close his eyes and have a sleep.
‘Stay with me.’
Kiet winced as the ambo cleaned his forehead. ‘How is Zoe?’
‘The woman? She seems fine. Tell me what happened.’
‘Kiet. Kiet, are you okay?’ Zoe skidded to a halt in front of him, her chest heaving with rapid breaths.
‘I’ve been better.’
‘Oh, Kiet. I saw all that blood and I thought he’d killed you. Oh my god …’ She pressed her hand over her heart, as if she really cared for him. Her big hazel eyes shone with unshed tears. ‘I’m so glad you arrived. He was going to shoot me—and all for a stupidly small amount of money.’
‘Small?’ Kiet sat up straighter.
Zoe waggled her head. ‘Relatively speaking. I’ve worked on much bigger fraud cases. Andersen’s crimes against your farm … Well, I guess it doesn’t matter because the amount of money is big or small depending on how much you had to start with, so I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so thoughtless.’
‘I appreciate it,’ the ambo added, and Kiet glared at them both.
‘Oh?’
‘You are keeping him alert with your chatter. Did he black out for long?’
‘Excuse me?’ Zoe asked. Kiet swallowed—what had the ambo seen? Did he have some sort of horrific head injury? He reached up to touch his head, but his hands were still cuffed behind his back.
‘He has a nasty lump on his temple. How long was he unconscious?’
‘Not long. Andersen whacked me on the ear, and my head hit the driveway.’ Kiet didn’t think it mattered too much. ‘Have they got the bastard strung up?’
‘My colleague is treating the other two men. You have the worst injuries.’
A strangled sob came from Zoe’s mouth. ‘Kiet saved me. Andersen had a gun, he was going to shoot me, and Kiet saved me. I heard a thump and spun around to see Kiet tackle Andersen. Andersen kept hitting him with the gun, until I managed to kick it away. Can you please look at his back?’
‘I’ll just finish cleaning up this head wound. The cut above his left eye is the worst.’ The ambo dug into his bag and pulled out some bandages. Kiet felt a tugging sensation as the ambo fiddled with his forehead.
‘Will it scar?’ Zoe asked. His mouth dried at the wobble in her voice. She really cared for him.
‘Scars are sexy. You’ll be able to kiss it every day and remember how I saved you.’ Kiet had spent too long being grumpy at the world, and the ridiculous comment just fell out, like in the old days when he could laugh with Sam about life. Zoe belonged in his life. It had taken one villain to show him that he needed her, loved her. He wanted to wake up next to her for the rest of his life. Pa had been right—he’d fallen for her from the moment she’d stepped into Christophe’s kitchen on Christmas Day wearing her silly earrings.
She giggled once, then rolled her eyes. ‘I saved you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d never know what Andersen was doing.’
‘True. To teamwork.’ He breathed in deep, then cut it off short as pain hit him in another wave. ‘I suppose I’ll have to apologise to Elizabeth sometime?’ He’d been so quick to blame Sam’s Lizzy because it was convenient, and it had stopped him from enjoying his time with Zoe. He intended to make amends for it as soon as the ambo was done poking his wounds.
‘Are you two done? Can you please turn around and take off your shirt?’ The ambo’s clipped voice reminded Kiet that he wasn’t alone with Zoe just yet. He winked, and a fresh stab of pain sent a cloud of black spots across his vision.
The ambo steadied him. ‘Shuffle sideways. I think you should lie down.’ Kiet let himself be manhandled and he closed his eyes. Metallic bangs sent another wave of pain through his skull, and he cracked one eye open. The ambo had pulled the bed out of his vehicle and kicked at the wheel to put the brakes on. Kiet almost smiled—glad that his mechanical senses still worked properly.
‘Come on. Stand up. Lean on me if you need.’ The ambo assisted him for the two steps over to the bed. Kiet hated feeling this weak but the way his blood drained down his spine into his feet as he stood up made him grateful when he lay on his stomach on the bed.
‘I’m going to cut your shirt off.’ The ambo’s hands disappeared. He wasn’t going to get it off without cutting it, since Kiet’s hands were still cuffed together. Zoe crouched down beside his head.
‘Kiet. There is a lot of blood on your back. Can you feel your toes?’
‘Of course I can feel my bloody toes. Everything hurts.’
‘Good.’ Zoe’s exhalation blew warm over his cheek.
‘Good? What?’
‘It means you don’t have a spinal injury.’
‘Just a big bloody bruise. And maybe a broken rib or two.’ Kiet kept his breathing shallow. Anything deeper hurt like a bitch. Cold metal touched the base of his spine, just above the top of his jeans, and he flinched at the icy sensation. Snip, snip, snip.
‘I hope you don’t like this shirt.’ The ambo sounded like he was smiling, and Kiet relaxed. No professional would make a joke if he was badly injured.
‘Shirts can be replaced. Kiet cannot.’
Chapter 17
Zoe turned the key in her new car—new to her, anyway. The insurance company had been quick to write off Betty, and she’d spent the money on a secondhand sedan. She glanced over at Kiet. His head injury been cleared by the doctors and he was able to drive again, but Sam had driven them both into town so the two vehicles could go back to the farm. Sam had already left. Zoe didn’t know why he was in such a hurry. All Sam seemed to do was work, and then disappear to his room to play
online games. She’d asked him about it over dinner last night, and he’d blushed. Curious.
‘Have you thought of a name for this car yet?’
She smiled. The past week had been so stressful. Kiet had been kept overnight in hospital to monitor his head injury, and the police had come to visit him. They’d both given their statements about Andersen’s actions. Kiet and Sam had been shocked to hear Andersen had been in love with their mother. He’d held a grudge against their father for decades and scammed the farm to pay his daughter. What a mess. The police had driven Zoe out to the farm with Sam, and she’d gone through all her evidence with them. Once she had everything, she’d taken her laptop back to the hospital and stayed up all night typing up her report. Technically the police didn’t need her summary—they already had her spreadsheets, and all the other evidence—but years of training meant the handover felt incomplete without her final report.
They’d made love the first night Kiet came home, in Kiet’s bed at his cottage, with the sunset streaming in the window. She’d been careful to trace around all his bruises. His battered body was healing quickly—he’d joked that it was all her attentions—and she’d learned more about the pleasures he teased from her body. They’d barely left his bed since then. Only for work—she’d driven his ute to the office, racing back to the farm to be with him—and for today’s mission to get her new car.
‘Not yet. Maybe “Andy”?’
‘No.’ Kiet twisted in his seat and glared at her. ‘You are not naming your car after him.’
Andersen had been arrested for fraud and attempted murder. Zoe had stayed clear of the gossip—although it ran rampant at work—with many people in Rainbow Cove shocked that a community figure could ‘do such a thing’. Zoe’s father had abused her on a phone call for her role in bringing down a member of their community. Would he prefer the rot continue unchecked? The only reason she’d felt comfortable entering Mr Andersen’s house alone was thanks to his reputation as a trusted leader. It had been the final nail to end her relationship with her parents, and she had cried into Kiet’s shoulder at the loss. Kiet understood. His experience was different because he’d been loved, while Zoe had to learn to cope with the knowledge that the love she thought she’d had as a child wasn’t real. They’d talked about family and loss and grief, and Kiet had spoken about how he’d needed to learn to cope for Sam’s sake. Sam had given him a reason to carry on when he’d needed it. Zoe had Jade, and while her situation was different to Kiet’s, talking it over helped her realise that she could make her own family by surrounding herself with people who were kind.