A Light in the Dark (Taylor's Bend, #3)

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘I don’t know.’ Would she tell him if it had stopped?

  ‘How’s she getting on? You keep in touch, don’t you?’

  ‘Not really.’ He wouldn’t contact her. She’d made it clear she wanted a clean break.

  ‘I thought you two seemed pretty close.’

  He shrugged. ‘Circumstances. We basically don’t have much in common.’

  DS McGrath stood up. ‘Thanks for the tea, Arlo. I don’t need to tell you this was all in confidence. I’m keeping you up to speed as a courtesy.’

  ‘Thanks. Seeing as it was my story to begin with.’ He added a smile to take the edge off the remark.

  ‘It still is. I keep my promises. You’ll get your scoop.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  After she’d gone, Arlo cleared away the tea things, turning her words over in his mind. Why hadn’t he contacted Mia beyond telling her that Riley had returned and all was going well? They were still friends, had parted on good terms. He’d sent her a copy of the paper and she texted back her thanks and asked how he was. The polite, efficient note from a busy woman.

  He didn’t reply and she didn’t ask why. A clean break. From this side it was far from clean, it was a ragged and bleeding wound that showed no sign of healing.

  By the time spring breathed new life into the cold winter weary earth, Taylor’s Bend had slipped into its comfortable old routine. Riley was happy, Debra was happy that he was happy, Georgia was happy to take on more of the editing responsibilities. Everybody was happy except Arlo.

  What used to entertain him now bored him, what had seemed simple entertainment now was plain dull. He stayed home in the evenings, because of Riley, but also because he couldn’t be bothered going out to karaoke or to take part in the quiz night. If his son hadn’t been there in the house with him in the evenings and weekends, distracting him and occupying his mind with mundane things like shopping and feeding a ravenous teenager, he didn’t know what he would have become.

  After discussions with the insurance company, work was due to begin soon to repair the damage to the newspaper office. As it was a soundly built stone structure the damage was mainly to the ceiling, doors, windows, wiring and fittings. As Georgia said, ‘It could have been heaps worse.’ She was more excited than he was.

  The developments at Bindubi and the golf resort site lay abandoned. When Arlo dropped in to the real estate agency he found Carl in a state of shock due to the blatant crime being committed under his nose, and adamant that he was completely innocent of any wrongdoing.

  ‘I had no idea, no idea at all,’ he said. ‘And to think Barry was involved.’

  ‘I don’t think he was, not wittingly, not at first,’ said Arlo. ‘I think he was taken in by whoever is running this whole scheme and when he realised he made a run for it thinking he’d be next on the list.’

  ‘And poor Tony. Do you think he and Glenda were murdered after all, the way Mia always thought?’

  ‘It’s possible. The police are reinvestigating that as well.’

  Carl pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. Arlo turned to go but stopped.

  ‘Did Tony ever tell you where he lived in Sydney and Melbourne? Which suburbs?’

  ‘Balmain, of course, in the house Mia has now.’ He shoved the handkerchief into his pocket. ‘Before that … a beachside suburb, I think. Bondi? Or Coogee, maybe. I can’t remember him ever mentioning Melbourne specifically.’

  Arlo continued on to collect Riley from school with a plan forming but he had research to do first. And he’d run it by his son tonight. If he gave it the thumbs down he’d have to rethink.

  Chapter 24

  Resuming her normal life wasn’t as easy as Mia had made out to Arlo. She’d thought she could slip back into her routine as though nothing had happened in the preceding weeks but it didn’t work like that. How could it when she’d nearly been killed? That’s what she told herself in the small hours of the night when she lay sleepless in her bed, pushing the real reason away like an annoying insect.

  At least the dream had stopped during the brief periods when she did sleep. Almost. The terror and the gunshots had gone but it had morphed into something else. Now she stood on the porch staring at the stained glass window with tears rolling down her cheeks. And she woke with an overwhelming sense of loss.

  When the copy of Round the Bend turned up, she read the main articles from first word to last, hearing Arlo’s voice speaking them in her head. The pictures of the damaged bridge brought back the events with horrifying clarity. The cold, the wet, the fear, the darkness and the sound of rain drumming onto the car. The screech of metal on metal, the grinding, tearing scream as the car was pushed along the railing of the bridge with Arlo fighting to keep it on the road.

  Arlo. She let out a shuddery breath. How was he? His text about Riley’s return sounded happy. She was pleased they were together again. He was a good dad.

  DS McGrath had phoned her late one afternoon to say they were reopening the investigation into her father’s and Glenda’s deaths due to new evidence that another person was involved.

  ‘The man in the other car?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s possible but I suspect there may have been two perpetrators.’

  ‘But the house has been painted and I had the floor redone. There won’t be any evidence left.’

  ‘We have the evidence samples from the original investigation. And the gun. We’ll look at it all now from a different perspective. We have someone to check DNA samples against. Before it was too open ended to try even if we did suspect something.’

  ‘Thank you for letting me know.’ More thoroughly, she meant, with no preconceived idea of suicide.

  ‘I’ll keep you informed, Mia, and I’m sorry it’s taken so long.’

  ‘Does Arlo know?’

  ‘I’m going to see him in the morning.’

  Mia put the phone down and went to sit in the last of the sun in her tiny back garden. She closed her eyes and raised her face to the warmth. Whatever the results of the new investigation, she and Arlo had won. She couldn’t have done it without him. Would he contact her tomorrow after DS McGrath gave him the news?

  She sat through her meetings the following day trying vainly to concentrate on the discussion. During the breaks she checked her phone. No messages.

  On the way home on the bus she checked again and again. Still nothing. She put the phone away and stared out the window instead. She had to stop. She was the one who’d insisted on going their separate ways. She’d got what she wanted. Live with it.

  A couple of work trips were coming up. One to a conference in Brisbane where Mia was presenting a breakout session on superannuation policy deficiencies, the other, to Canberra again, this time for two nights including a gala dinner held by one of the industry bodies.

  They were going to be very long, slow days.

  ***

  The weather took a sharp turn towards summer in the first week of October with the temperature hovering in the mid-thirties. School holidays were in full swing and the city was full of groups of teenagers and families towing children to the zoo or the sights of Darling Harbour.

  Mia rode to and from work, trudging through the days and returning to her house hot, tired and wanting nothing other than to eat something, watch TV and go to bed. The dream when it came didn’t wrench her from sleep but she remembered it when she woke and often her cheeks or pillow were still damp. She could live with that. The rawness of the grief would fade with time. The cold, the frost and the damp foggy mornings of Taylor’s Bend were hard to imagine now but the beanie and knitted scarf hanging on the hallstand reminded her every time she came in or out.

  It wasn’t as hot there in the shadow of the mountains. Willoughby showed on the nightly TV weather maps as being in the mid-twenties. Arlo and Riley would be comfortable in the house. Had they been taking care of the garden? The front had needed work and now in this spring weather everything would be growing like crazy. Her garden was. She
should attack some of the overgrown shrubs this coming weekend. Drag herself out of this lethargy. Her neighbour had already mown his patch of lawn twice. Hers was more grass than lawn. Her dad wouldn’t be pleased if he could see it. When they’d lived here together he took pride in the way the house looked to neighbours and passers-by but most of all for himself.

  ***

  Walking up the path to Mia’s front door on Saturday morning, Arlo was more nervous than he could ever remember. Should he have let her know he was in town? Asked if he could drop in? She might not be home but evidence that she was lay in the bucket by the path with secateurs and gardening gloves in it, and the rake lying on the grass next to a pile of leaves and pulled up weeds.

  He rang the bell. Silence. He was about to ring again when footsteps sounded and the door swung wide.

  She didn’t say a word, simply stared at him. She was more beautiful than the image in his mind, more beautiful than any memory. Her face, devoid of make-up, revealed the true loveliness of her dark eyes and clear olive toned skin. Damp wisps of hair framed her face escaping from the ponytail.

  ‘Arlo,’ she said, and smiled.

  His heart turned over with relief.

  ‘Hi.’ He stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘Me too.’ She released her hold. ‘Come in. You should have told me you were in town.’ Flustered now. ‘I’m all dirty, I’ve been gardening.’

  ‘I saw.’

  ‘I’m taking a drink break before finishing the weeding.’

  ‘Right. It’s a nice house.’ He had no idea what it was like, he couldn’t take his eyes off her, drinking in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst.

  ‘Yes. Dad had a good eye. Come through to the kitchen and have a cold drink. Or tea or coffee. Whatever you prefer. It’s hot, isn’t it?’

  She walked down the long hallway to the rear of the house. The kitchen and living room were open plan, similar to his tiny flat but the furnishings were far more stylish—carefully chosen splashes of colour in a Mediterranean inspired décor which still sat comfortably in the traditional Victorian style house.

  ‘It is here in Sydney but it’s not bad at home.’

  ‘No. You’re closer to the mountains.’ She opened the fridge and took out a container of fruit juice.

  ‘Yes.’ This was a ridiculous conversation. They sounded like strangers on a bus. He and Mia had nearly died together. He loved her.

  ‘Why are you here?’ she asked as though the same thought had suddenly occurred to her. ‘Not here in my house, I mean. In Sydney.’

  ‘I brought Riley back to his mum’s for the holidays and thought I’d spend a few days in the big smoke.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  She handed him a glass of iced juice. ‘Come and sit out the back.’

  She led him to a small courtyard with a vine covered trellis and roof offering shade for the outdoor table and chairs. Terracotta pots of brilliant red geraniums sat along the wall of the house and the scent of something sweet hung in the warm air.

  ‘How are you?’ Her dark eyes appraised him. ‘You look well.’

  ‘I’m fine. Apart from …’ He sipped the juice.

  ‘From?’

  ‘Missing you.’

  She looked at her own glass, untouched on the table. Beads of water ran down the sides, pooling on the wooden surface.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘That’s not why I came. I don’t want to annoy you, harass you. It’s not your problem, it’s mine.’

  ‘It’s mine too,’ she said.

  He frowned. What was she saying?

  ‘I … I’m having trouble … concentrating. I can’t …’

  ‘Think about anything else?’ he asked softly. ‘Nothing seems interesting anymore? Perfectly nice people are boring, or annoying? You want to do something but you don’t know what? Can’t sleep?’

  She nodded. He reached across and grasped her hand and she clung on with a sob.

  ‘I don’t know what to do. I can’t live this way. I thought the dream was bad, but this is worse.’

  ‘Has it gone, the dream?’

  ‘It’s changed, it’s not frightening anymore. I’m on the porch but I only see the stained glass and I feel … sad. A sense of loss.’

  ‘It’s good the fear has gone.’

  ‘Yes, but so have you.’

  Somehow he was on his feet and so was she. In his arms, lips on his, clinging, body soft, moulded to his. Time froze. The air stilled. Sound ceased. She was in his heart, his soul, his body, his mind.

  Awareness filtered back in. Mia drew away, centimetres but too far.

  ‘This won’t solve anything,’ she murmured. ‘It makes it harder.’

  He silenced her with another kiss but this time her arms slid from his body.

  ‘Arlo, we need to talk before this … before we …’

  He smiled at what she so clearly wanted to say, what she knew was inevitable, but she was right. Reluctantly he released her and sat down.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ he said. ‘But before you do I want you to come with me. I want to show you something. It’s why I came to see you.’ He stopped, couldn’t stop the grin. ‘Well, one of the reasons. You know the other one.’

  She smiled, eyes sparkling. ‘Now, you mean?’

  ‘If you can, yes.’

  ‘It’s not to a cemetery, is it?’

  ‘No.’ Not like last time. When she’d said the same thing to him.

  ‘I need to change first. Have a shower.’

  ‘Can I help?’

  She laughed. ‘You could but if you do we’ll never get to wherever it is. Stay here. Finish your drink. I’ll be five minutes.’

  ‘Sure you will.’

  ‘I will!’

  She reappeared eight minutes by her proud count, in a red floral-patterned skirt swaying around shapely tanned legs, and white lacy sleeveless blouse which showed off the fullness of her breasts and hips. She’d pulled her hair into a loose bundle on top of her head and added gold hoop earrings.

  ‘You look beautiful. I’ve never seen you in summer clothes.’

  ‘Thank you.’ There came the radiant smile which made his heart glow.

  ‘You remind me of one those fifties film stars, like Sofia Loren or Gina Lollobrigida. Exotic and sexy as all get out.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

  ‘Bondi.’

  ‘Should I bring my swimming costume?’

  ‘Not unless you particularly want to swim.’

  ‘No.’

  She held his hand as they walked to his car, parked a couple of houses along from hers.

  ‘This is like your old one,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a few years newer.’ He opened the door for her and closed it when she was settled, the skirt riding up a little to show smooth brown knees. She was stunning. He’d be the envy of every man they saw.

  ‘Have you heard any more about the investigation?’ she asked as he edged into the street, concentrating hard on driving rather than ogling her legs.

  ‘No. DS McGrath said it would be slow. The police are certain two people were involved. One was the guy who died. They were able to match a hair they found in the original sweep. At the time they didn’t have the resources, time or money to try to match every sample they collected. It would have taken ages and it was so clearly a suicide.’

  ‘Except it wasn’t.’

  ‘No, but remember this was a small country town, a case like that isn’t a priority and there was no clear need or evidence to investigate more extensively. It happens.’

  ‘Oh. That reminds me—Rupe rang and told me he’d found who put the paint on my car. Not Bluey. Someone else. He and his wife had abused me once in the street. Olson, their name is. Rupe said they had a grudge against Dad. They thought he cheated them in a land sale.’

  ‘Sean and Jasmin. They’re always ready to have a go at someone for something.’

  He stopped talking t
o navigate a busy intersection and join the road leading to the Anzac Bridge but resumed when the car was rolling smoothly over the arc.

  ‘Jill McGrath told me what she thought might have happened but she can’t actually prove it yet. She thinks Carmody, the dead man, and accomplice X, who was the planner because Carmody was a brainless thug, came to the house under the guise of looking at Tony’s gun to buy. They could spin some story about having heard he wanted to sell it from someone at the gun club. Tony, being naturally unsuspecting and knowing Glenda wanted him to get rid of it, invites them in, gets the gun and ammunition out of the safe. They either go with him or wait in the living room but they’re careful not to touch anything or sit down. They wear gloves and when Tony reappears they pull a gun on him and force him into the kitchen where Glenda is. One of them holds the gun on her and threatens to kill her if Tony doesn’t do as ordered. He has to load the gun with his own bullets. One of them shoots Glenda then holds Tony. Maybe they make him put the gun to his own head so he gets gunshot residue on his hand. She doesn’t know. And … well … they make it look like suicide.’

  Mia sat in silence. He glanced at her. Her cheeks were wet.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly. ‘I shouldn’t have told you. It’s speculation. It may not have happened that way. We may never know.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I needed to know. I wanted to know.’ She touched his hand on the steering wheel lightly. ‘Thank you.’

  The drive to Bondi was slow. He’d forgotten how horrendous city traffic was and the ubiquitous road works never helped. Mia was quiet for most of the drive, occasionally offering a suggestion as to the best route in the maze of lanes to choose from but when they reached Bondi she had nothing to offer.

  Arlo had studied the map and memorised the turns to their destination. The main problem would be finding a parking spot but he was in luck and found a space two streets from where he was heading.

  Mia took his hand again as they walked. She wore sunglasses which gave her an even more exotic look. How had he ever thought she wasn’t pretty, had no emotions? She had a deep reserve of passion which had stirred when he kissed her, thrilling him to his core. She’d succumbed initially until caution and self-preservation overwhelmed her, dampening the fire, but it was there. Next time.