SHELTER

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SHELTER Page 8

by Boston, Claire


  It did make Zamira feel better. “Thanks.”

  “So what will you cook for him?”

  She groaned. “No idea. I didn’t even ask if he was allergic to anything.”

  “He’s not — we often eat together at the station.” She got her phone out of her pocket. “Give me a second.” She spoke briefly to someone and hung up. “OK, Kim tells me he orders stir-fries and pho from the restaurant.”

  Zamira frowned. “Kim?”

  “My brother. He works at the local Vietnamese restaurant and Jeremy often gets take-away. He likes it spicy.”

  “Does Kim play football?”

  Mai nodded.

  “I think I met him yesterday at the game.” A stir-fry wouldn’t be hard. “Thank you.”

  Mai grinned. “No problem.” She stretched. “I’d better get back to it. Drop by tomorrow and tell me how it went.” She winked.

  Zamira waved. Seriously, Mai just saved her life. Thank goodness for small towns.

  With one issue sorted, she needed to address the other.

  It was time to call Border Force.

  Chapter 7

  Zamira drove down the street to the park next to the river. She sat on a bench under a big Moreton Bay fig tree and stared at her phone. If she called Vince, he might fire her for getting involved. No, better if she called the hotline and remained anonymous. She dialled the number she had memorised. She followed the prompts, her heart beating heavily in her chest.

  “Australian Border Force, what would you like to report?” The female voice was perky.

  Zamira swallowed. “An employer sponsor breach.”

  Keys clacked in the background. “All right. In which state and town?”

  “Blackbridge, Western Australia.”

  “Name of employer?”

  “Henk Jennings.”

  “And what is the nature of the breach?”

  Zamira described the situation and explained she worked for Border Force but preferred to remain anonymous. The woman occasionally asked for clarification and all the while keys clattered in the background.

  Finally the woman said, “Thank you for the information. Please be assured every report is taken seriously and read by one of our officers. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

  “Yes, this is urgent. Annisa is scared. We need to get her out as soon as possible. The Task Force is building a case at the moment. They need this information.”

  “I understand your concern,” the woman said. “But I can’t guarantee anything, unless you’re willing to give me your employment details. I will flag this as a high priority but it’s up to the Task Force to follow up.”

  Zamira clenched her jaw. Either way someone got hurt, but at least if she did something, Annisa would be safe. Zamira could find another job. She gave the woman her details. “Tell them if they don’t call me today, I’ll go and get her myself.”

  “Ma’am I really can’t recommend that. It could be dangerous. Border Force are trained for this.”

  “And Annisa’s my cousin. I won’t leave her in danger.” Tired of the conversation, she hung up and blew out a breath.

  No. She wouldn’t feel guilty about her threat. She’d done the right thing, she’d reported it to the authorities, but if they were too slow to react, it wasn’t her fault.

  Frustration swirled through her and she stood and shook out her arms. Calm down. “Aarrgh.” She didn’t want calm, she wanted to talk to someone who could actually help.

  “Everything all right, miss?”

  She whirled around. An older man in his mid-sixties sat on a park bench on the opposite side of the fig tree. Had he heard her conversation? She should have been more careful, but there’d been no one there when she’d sat down. “Fine. Thank you.” She couldn’t stay here.

  She strode back to her car. She would drive past Henk’s place, check whether she could see Annisa, make sure she was all right. And maybe, if she could get Henk’s number, she could call pretending to need a cleaner. No, that wouldn’t work. Henk would want an address and probably knew most of the people in town.

  She pursed her lips. And if Jeremy asked, Henk would get suspicious about his sudden interest in Annisa. But maybe one of his friends could ring.

  Which would involve way too many people, one of whom might tip Henk off.

  Her mind still whirling with ideas, she drove out of the carpark, along the river towards the beach. What was she doing? This was the wrong way.

  She checked her rear-view mirror. Not a good idea to do a U-turn in the middle of the street, especially with a big four-wheel drive behind her. There was bound to be another carpark ahead she could pull into.

  The ocean appeared through the trees, dark blue and wavy this morning, a few whitecaps from the wind. The swell crashed against the granite rocks and sprayed into the air. A great photo opportunity. She’d come back later after she’d checked on Annisa. The road curved away from the ocean and then dipped, causing her to brake sharply, her pulse racing. Pay attention to the road, not the ocean.

  Her car slowed as it climbed the hill and she pressed the accelerator to give it more speed. A brown sign told her a lookout was five hundred metres ahead. Perfect. She’d turn around there.

  The road curved again and she slowed, a movement in her rear-view mirror causing her to check it. The four-wheel drive was so close behind her that it would ram her if she braked hard. She frowned. She crested a rise and the lookout carpark sat about halfway down the hill surrounded by bush. A wooden platform jutted out over the cliff. The bitumen ended as if they’d run out of supplies and the last half was gravel. She braked to slow her descent and was jolted forward as something crashed into her.

  Her heart leapt as she glanced in her mirror. The ’roo bar of the four-wheel drive was hard against her boot. What the hell? She braked harder, but it had no effect, the car behind accelerating and pushing her towards the edge. Her skin prickled. If she couldn’t stop, she’d fly off the lookout and into the ocean.

  The driver was crazy.

  Her fingers clenched the steering wheel as the edge got closer.

  She’d take her chance with the thick trees and shrubs on the sides of the road rather than plummeting to the ocean below.

  She jerked the steering wheel right, heading straight towards the bush.

  Please let this work.

  The four-wheel drive’s engine roared behind her like an animal as her car spun, hit the road shoulder and crashed into the low beach scrub on the side of the road. Her airbags deployed with a bang. The screech and thud of broken branches made her wince, then suddenly the car hit something hard and was still.

  Zamira’s head spun and she gasped for breath, checking her mirror.

  The car was driving away.

  Her heart rate slowed and her other senses returned, pain thudding in her chest. She shoved the door hard but it didn’t budge. Her ears strained for any hint the car had stopped, or was coming back, but the engine rumble faded.

  Straining, her fingers brushed the strap of her bag which had fallen to the floor. Another reach and she grabbed it, pulling it towards her and frantically dug out her phone. The car still might come back.

  She dialled triple zero and as the call connected, her breath huffed out of her.

  She kept glancing in the rear-view mirror in case the four-wheel drive returned as she reported what had happened.

  She was alive.

  ***

  Jeremy’s phone beeped as he finished packing up. The remodelling of Shirley Jameson’s hen house was complete. He grabbed the invoice off the front seat and got his phone out as he went to find Shirley.

  Traffic accident. All available respond.

  He winced, even as his pulse rate spiked. They hadn’t had a crash in a while. His next job could wait. He texted his response as he walked into the house. “Shirley, I’m done.”

  The older woman came out from the kitchen. “Want to stay for a coffee?” She winked.

 
He grinned back, used to her flirty ways. “Can’t.” He held up his phone. “Just got called in. Traffic accident.”

  “Oh, I hope no one is hurt.”

  “Me too.” He handed her the invoice. “If you decide you want to stain the wood, call me.” After checking that he had everything stowed properly, he waved goodbye and drove to the fire station, his muscles tight. For the crash to need Fire and Rescue to attend, it couldn’t be good. He’d seen a lot of blood and trauma over the years and it never got any easier. Nausea swirled in his belly. Much better if he didn’t think about it.

  Lawrence was already there, prepping the vehicles when Jeremy walked in.

  “What have we got?” Jeremy asked, heading for his spare set of gear.

  “Car went off the road at the lookout by the inlet. Driver is trapped.”

  He dressed quickly. “Anyone hurt?”

  “She was able to call for help.”

  Good. “Who else is coming?”

  “Nicholas. Can you hitch up the trailer?”

  They worked in sync and as the vehicle was ready, Nicholas arrived, already dressed in his gear.

  Lawrence drove, sirens on as they raced through the town towards the beach. On the scenic road they were forced to slow as the road twisted and turned.

  The police had set up a road block and Adam moved it out of the way as they approached. The road dipped and at the bottom of the carpark the white car was some distance in the bush, its bonnet bent against one of the only large trees in the area and the boot dented.

  He frowned. That was odd.

  As the truck pulled up, he noticed the hire car logo on the side door. The breath left Jeremy’s lungs. No. It couldn’t be. He jumped out and strode through the bush to where Sergeant Lincoln Zanetti stood at the window of the car.

  Lincoln nodded a greeting. “The firies are here, Zamira. They’ll get you out.”

  He pushed Lincoln aside and glanced in the window. “Zamira?” Her face was covered in blood and the steering wheel pressed up close to her chest.

  “Jeremy.” His name was a sob and she clutched his hand, her hand trembling.

  “What happened?”

  “A four-wheel drive rammed me, pushed me towards the edge. I had to swerve into the bush or else…” Tears welled in her eyes.

  Or else she’d be at the bottom of the ocean right now. His skin prickled and he squeezed her hand. “Yeah. Good choice.”

  She snorted a laugh.

  Her laugh dissipated his fears. He’d worry about which bastard had done this later. First he had to get Zamira out. “Are you hurt? Any broken bones?”

  “A screaming headache and squashed legs, but nothing broken.”

  He sighed. “OK. I can hear the ambulance, but we’ve got to get you out.” He examined the car as Lawrence strode over.

  “Jaws of Life?” he asked.

  “Get the spreader.” They might be able to force the door open.

  Lawrence raised his eyebrows at the way he held Zamira’s hand. “You know her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stay there then. Lincoln, can I get a hand with some equipment?”

  Lincoln nodded and they walked back to the truck. Nicholas was already setting up the generator.

  Jeremy stroked Zamira’s hand. “The paramedics will examine you and then we’ll have you out.”

  She checked her rear-view mirror and then said, “It was a dark four-wheel drive.”

  He made the connection. “You think it was Henk?”

  She shrugged and then winced. “I can’t think of anyone else who’d want to push me off a cliff.”

  “Did you see him today?”

  “No, but I sat in the park while I called Border Force. Someone could have overheard me and yesterday I drove past his place while you were playing football. Henk’s got a camera on the gate.”

  That wasn’t great.

  Back at the road, the paramedics spoke with Lawrence and Lincoln, then Guy walked over to them. Jeremy stepped back to give him room.

  “Hey, I’m Guy and I’ll be your friendly neighbourhood paramedic today.” He smiled.

  “Zamira.”

  “OK. I’m going to ask you a few questions before we get you out.”

  She nodded.

  Jeremy examined the car while Guy talked to her. It wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought. The low-lying scrub must have slowed the car before it hit the tree at an angle.

  Lawrence walked over with the spreaders. He waved Jeremy over. “You want to sit this one out?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Figured as much. Doesn’t look like it’s too bad. Once Guy gives the OK and we get her out, Nicholas and I will be fine to pack up if you want to ride with her to the hospital.”

  Relief swept through him. “Thanks, mate.”

  “No worries. ’Course you’ll have to tell us who she is at training Thursday night.” Lawrence was straight-faced but he was only partially kidding.

  Jeremy grinned. “Yeah, fair enough.”

  It didn’t take Guy long to give the all clear. He placed a neck brace on Zamira and then Lawrence used the spreader to open the door. Jeremy helped her out. Her hands shook a little and he resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her. She might have other injuries.

  Guy made her lie on the bright yellow stretcher and she looked so small on it. Jeremy helped Guy carry her down to the ambulance. As Guy and Cynthia got her ready to travel, Lincoln tapped Jeremy’s shoulder.

  “How do you know Ms Musa?”

  Great, Lincoln was in cop mode. “She’s a friend. I met her the other day.”

  “Know why someone would want to push her off the road?”

  He hated to lie to Lincoln, but it wasn’t his place to tell. “Maybe a bad driver?”

  Lincoln raised his eyebrows. “I need Zamira’s statement for the incident report. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  Jeremy grimaced. Hospitals had no privacy. “How about I bring her by the station when she’s discharged? It’s more private.”

  The sergeant stared at him for a long moment. “All right. Straight after, no detours.”

  Jeremy nodded. “What about the car?”

  “We’ll get it towed to Morgan’s place.”

  “Jeremy, are you riding with us?” Guy called.

  “Be right there.” He glanced at Lincoln. “Are we done here?”

  Lincoln smiled. “Not nearly, but we’ll talk when you come to the station.”

  He nodded. Yeah, Lincoln was a good cop. They’d dealt with each other a lot in the past and had a level of trust. “See you then.” He climbed into the ambulance, sitting across from Zamira’s stretcher. She smiled and his heart skipped a beat.

  Not good.

  He couldn’t pretend to be simply a concerned citizen, the only person Zamira knew in Blackbridge.

  He was already way too involved. But she didn’t feel the same about him.

  He didn’t need more heartache.

  Chapter 8

  Zamira felt shaky from her legs to her soul, like she might burst out crying at any minute, but she kept it together while the emergency department nurse, Fleur, asked her a bunch of questions. She was safe in the hospital, mostly uninjured and Jeremy stood by her side.

  It had been a long wait between calling triple zero and the police arriving.

  The police sergeant had been suspicious, but she’d been unable to focus on his questions. When Jeremy had arrived, she’d instantly felt safer, her relief so great she burst into tears.

  “We’ll take you to be x-rayed now,” Fleur said. “Then the doctor will see you.”

  Jeremy got to his feet.

  “You can stay here,” Fleur told him.

  His scowl made Zamira smile. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll wait right here.”

  As Fleur pushed her towards the x-ray room, she asked, “How did the crash happen?”

  Zamira hesitated. She couldn’t tel
l her the truth, not without a whole bunch more questions following. “I lost control on the gravel.”

  “It’s lucky your car didn’t roll,” Fleur said. “I’ve seen some nasty roll-overs from people going too fast on a gravel road.” She helped the radiologist position Zamira and then said, “I’ll see you out there.”

  It didn’t take long to get the scans and she was wheeled back to the emergency department where Jeremy and a female doctor were waiting.

  “Any damage?” Jeremy asked.

  “Nothing,” the radiologist answered. “She’s fine from my point of view.”

  The doctor nodded and did her own examination. Finally, she said, “You’re lucky. You’ll probably ache for a few days, but the bruises will fade. Take some painkillers if you need to but follow the instructions on the packet. If anything changes, dizziness or sharp pains, come back here.” She glanced at Jeremy and then back to Zamira. “Do you have someone who could stay with you tonight?”

  “She can stay with me,” Jeremy said.

  Her cheeks warmed. She didn’t want to be alone, particularly if someone wanted to hurt her. Jeremy would shelter her. “All right.”

  The doctor turned to Jeremy. “She doesn’t appear to have a concussion, but if she complains of nausea, or anything else, bring her back.”

  “I will.”

  “Great. You’re free to go.”

  “Thank you.” Zamira winced as she sat up. Every muscle in her body ached and her chest was tender from where the seatbelt had tightened. Fleur handed her discharge paperwork and then Jeremy slipped his arm around her waist and walked her out. She leaned against him, needing his comforting presence. Being in his arms felt right.

  Outside, a light rain fell and she inhaled the fresh, cool air. She was alive.

  “Stay here and I’ll get the car.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead and jogged out into the rain before she could protest.

  Her heart jolted. He’d kissed her.

  It was a friendly glad-you’re-OK kiss, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Did it mean he cared for her? He was so incredibly sweet, staying by her side when he had work to do.

 

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