by Chris Taylor
“We spoke about this last night, Colt!” she exploded. “You’ve seen his birthdate, right? Same as Dad’s, I’m sure. Didn’t you listen to a word I said? The man looks identical to my father. There’s no way he could fake that. He’s my uncle, my father’s brother. Okay, he looks like he’s grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. So what? He told me about his childhood. It wasn’t pretty. That wasn’t his fault.”
“Nobody forced him to become a criminal,” Colt pointed out calmly, refusing to back down.
“No, but until you’ve walked a mile in someone else’s shoes, how do you know what you’re capable of?”
The words were said quietly, in stark contrast to her earlier outburst. He also held that view about life and that view influenced his feelings about marriage. So, against his better judgment, but knowing he had no choice, he retreated. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear anything bad about her uncle. Colt could only hope she kept the knowledge of Leslie’s criminality in the back of her mind the next time she came into contact with him.
“Do you need a ride to your uncle’s?” he asked, hoping to ease the tension.
“You mean, my dad’s,” she replied, her voice dry.
“Yes, of course, your dad’s place. I can swing by and pick you up. It would save you walking.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. It’s a nice day out and it’s not too far away. I’m looking forward to the walk.”
“Okay, well, let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said, unwilling to end the conversation. He enjoyed talking to her, looking out for her.
“Yes, I will. And if you’re not busy later, I might get you to collect me afterwards. The walk home to your place will be mostly uphill.”
He laughed and assured her he’d be happy to give her a ride whenever she was finished. All she had to do was phone. On that note, and with a smile still on his face, he ended the call.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Leslie O’Brien stared at the emails that filled the inbox of his brother’s mail program. A few were from businesses offering golfing supplies, magazine subscriptions and holidays, but the majority of them were from Morgan. Reading through them, he frowned. She was getting increasingly concerned and she kept going on and on about the stupid dog.
He cursed aloud, angry at himself for his sloppiness. He should never have buried the animal on the property. If he’d taken the dog to a dumpster, like he’d originally planned, Morgan would never have been the wiser. She would have accepted the explanation in her father’s email that the dog was with him and would have gone on her merry way.
But at the last minute, Leslie had panicked. A lot of shops these days had security cameras around their back and front entrances. A dog with a bullet hole in his head would have attracted attention and Leslie would have been captured on camera dumping the body. If any of the shop owners had taken the footage to the police, he’d have been quickly identified and then the questions would have come at him faster than the time it took for him to formulate his lies.
It was a risk he hadn’t been willing to take at the time, so he’d buried the dog down the back. And now the decision was coming back to bite him. He thought he’d planned it all so well and then Morgan had shown up. She’d thrown everything into disarray and had put his plan at risk.
It served him right for being so greedy. After being initially taken aback, Rex had welcomed him with open arms and a more than generous heart. But that welcome hadn’t been enough and now Leslie was paying the price. He was being backed into a corner and had to do something to reassure Rex’s daughter, to throw her off the scent.
Perhaps he could call her? He sounded enough like his brother that he could probably pull it off. But what if she asked him things and he didn’t know the answers? A call could be fraught with danger and he probably didn’t need to put himself at such a risk. No, better to stick with the emails. They seemed to be working well enough for now.
Pulling the laptop toward him, he shot off another email from her father, apologizing for not being upfront with her about Rusty and begging her forgiveness. The dog had been suffering from cancer. It had happened right before Christmas. After what had happened to her mom, he hadn’t wanted to tell her. Then it was her birthday and the anniversary of her mom’s death. There didn’t seem to be a good time. He was sorry. He should have simply told her. He hadn’t meant to lie. Blah, blah, blah.
Leslie’s fingers moved slowly over the keyboard, typing one letter at a time. He was careful to check the spelling. He was sure his learned brother wouldn’t spell anything wrong.
I’m on my way to Darwin, the email continued. Try not to worry. I’m perfectly fine on my own. I’ll do my best to be back before you have to leave. Take care. I love you, Dad.
Leslie re-read the message and satisfied, clicked on the send. He hoped it was enough to keep Morgan happy. Later in the week, he’d make sure Rex emailed his daughter explaining there was a delay in his plans. Perhaps he’d get caught in a monsoon and be flooded in. Of course he’d be fine, but he wouldn’t be able to make it back home in time to see her. He’d be very sorry, but he’d catch her next time… And on and on.
It didn’t really matter what excuse Leslie used. Anything to have Rex’s daughter return to Sydney without too many more concerns. Leslie needed her gone to put his final plans into action. Leslie O’Brien would cease to exist and in his place, Rex would return.
A knock on the door startled him from his musings. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the outline of a woman standing on the porch. The knock came again, and this time the unexpected visitor called out his name.
“Uncle Leslie? Are you home?”
* * *
Morgan was just about to knock on the door for the third time when it opened. Her uncle greeted her with a smile.
“Morgan! What an unexpected surprise! Please, come in!”
Once again, she was taken aback by his resemblance to her father. She wondered if she’d ever get used to it. Today he wore a white polo shirt and a pair of navy slacks. The clothes looked suspiciously like her father’s.
Not that it mattered. It had been obvious Uncle Leslie was down on his luck and she was certain her dad wouldn’t mind. He’d always had a generous heart and would be the first one to encourage his brother to make himself at home, even if that meant borrowing a few of his clothes.
Her uncle stepped back to allow her to enter and Morgan caught a whiff of his cologne. It was the same one her dad used. Or maybe it was her dad’s? Once again, she couldn’t help but wonder.
She walked into the open-concept living and dining room and dropped her handbag on the table. Looking around her, she took in the familiar surroundings. The leather recliner where her dad liked to sit in the evening and watch TV. She’d often sit beside him in the matching armchair. The bookshelf that contained her mother’s collection of Royal Doulton figurines. There they were, grouped together like they had been for many years. Except…a couple were missing.
Morgan frowned and moved closer. Yes, there were definitely two missing. A woman in a beautiful crimson ball gown with cream-colored overlay and another woman in pale blue, lifting the skirt of her dress to show her white petticoats beneath. There were even clear spots amidst the dust on the bookshelf, showing where the statutes used to be.
She wondered where they were. There was no way her father would have gotten rid of them. Every single one of her mother’s collectibles remained where they’d always been, scattered throughout the house. He’d told her once that seeing them helped him feel close to her and after all, what would he do with them? They’d belong to Morgan when he died.
Her gaze continued to wander around the room. Her father’s writing desk stood underneath the window on the wall opposite the TV. If he wasn’t watching one of his favorite shows, he was often on his computer. She noted the laptop was in its usual spot on the desk. The lid was down, but the power was connected. She could see a blue flashing light at the front.
<
br /> Something stirred in her memory and she frowned, trying to figure out what it was.
“Would you like a cup of tea or coffee? I can put the jug on.”
Uncle Leslie’s query interrupted her train of thought. She turned to face him and offered him a smile. “That would be lovely. I’ll have tea, thanks.”
“Black, no sugar, right?”
She smiled wider, pleased he’d remembered. “You have a good memory,” she said.
He gave her a wink before turning away and heading toward the kitchen. She heard him whistling as he went. Intent on offering him her assistance, she started off after him.
“Have you heard from your father lately?” her uncle called from the other room.
“Yes, he emailed me the night before last. He was at Tennant Creek. I emailed him back and asked him about Rusty, but I haven’t heard from him since then.”
She walked into the kitchen where her uncle was filling the electric jug. “I checked earlier this morning, but there was nothing. I can only assume he doesn’t have any Internet service. Whatever possessed him to head off into the outback with no way of staying in regular contact, defies common sense!”
Her uncle chuckled and set the jug to boil. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll contact you when he can. He won’t want you to worry and he knows you will.”
Morgan nodded grimly. “Yes. I made it very clear the last time I emailed him that he needs to call me. I—”
Morgan stopped mid-sentence and frowned. She’d emailed off her iPad. Her father had the laptop. The laptop she’d given him. But…the laptop was sitting on the writing desk in the living room.
Dread swirled in her stomach and her heart took off in a rush. What was her dad’s laptop doing in the living room? Surely he’d taken it with him? How else was he sending her emails? He hadn’t said anything about using public computers. She’d just assumed he had his own. She looked up at her uncle who was busy loading a tea tray.
“Uncle Leslie, why didn’t Dad take his laptop? I just realized it’s still here. I don’t understand how he’s been emailing me all this time. Do you know anything about it?”
Her uncle frowned in thought. “I’m not sure, honey. He didn’t mention it to me, but he did leave in kind of a hurry. I guess the shock and all of having me suddenly appear… Perhaps he bought another one somewhere along the way? Or some other fancy gizmo – what do they call them? A tablet? That’s it! What a strange name for a device that works pretty much like a computer.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t know one end from the other. Can’t say I’ve ever had much use for them.”
“No, no. Dad wouldn’t have bought a tablet. Not so long ago, I wanted to get him an iPad. He wouldn’t hear of it. Said he was happy doing things the old-fashioned way, from his laptop. He knew his way around it and didn’t want to have to spend time learning something new.”
Dread continued to fill her stomach. She couldn’t imagine her father heading into an Internet café just so that he could check his emails – and that was only if there were such places in the outback. She’d never been, but from what she’d seen on television, the towns out there weren’t overrun with technology. Perhaps that was the reason his emails were so few and far between?
She blew out her breath on a heavy sigh. There were too many questions and no answers. It was Groundhog Day all over again. The situation was doing her head in. She felt so helpless, sitting around, waiting for him to call, to email, to reassure her everything was all right…
“Right, the tea’s made. Let’s go and enjoy a cup.”
Her uncle’s announcement interrupted her thoughts and she forced them to the back of her mind. Following him out of the kitchen, she once again took a seat at the dining room table and accepted a cup of tea.
Her handbag sat where she left it. The corner of her iPad peeked out of the open compartment where she’d stored her wallet, tissues, lip gloss and a myriad of other things. It drew her eye over and over, urging her to open it.
She glanced at her uncle who sat across from her and wondered if it would be rude to check her email again. Yes, of course it would. She’d come over to spend time with him, to get to know him better. After all, he was family. Dragging her gaze away from the temptation her handbag afforded, she gave him a friendly smile.
“Thank you for the tea. It’s lovely.”
“No problem, honey. Try some banana cake. It was fresh from the bakery the day before. I’m sure it’s still good.”
“Yes, Moxons. I remember.” She leaned across and picked up a piece of cake. It smelled delicious. She took a bite. It tasted as good as it smelled.
“Tell me a little bit more about your life, Uncle. I know you did it hard. I’m sorry your adoptive parents weren’t kinder. I’d really like to hear how you fared. Did you finish high school? Go to college?”
Her uncle chuckled softly and set down his cup of tea. “My, you ask a lot of questions!”
Morgan looked down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy, but you’re my father’s brother, the only family I have. You look so much like him, it makes me feel like I know you and then I remember I don’t know very much about you at all.” She shrugged and continued on, her voice gentle. “You’ve hinted at a tough life and Colt told me you’d spent time in jail… I don’t care about that, Uncle. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all in the past. You’re here now and I’d like to get to you know better.”
Her uncle regarded her solemnly and Morgan wondered if she’d said too much. Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned the fact she knew about his record? Still, he’d told her the day before that life hadn’t always treated him kindly. It hadn’t been too much of a stretch at the time to imagine that might mean a run-in or two with the law.
He continued to stare at her. His lips had thinned and tension lines had appeared around his mouth. She was upset at the thought she might have shamed him when she mentioned his time in jail and she hurried to reassure him again.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Leslie. I shouldn’t have said anything about your past. It’s none of my business. I’m just glad you’re here. We have plenty of time to get to know each other. It doesn’t have to be right now. I—”
“It’s all right, Morgan,” he interrupted, his tone mild. “I’m far from proud of my history, but I have nothing to hide. I’ll tell you whatever it is you want to know, but first, will you please check your email? You haven’t stopped looking at your handbag since we sat down. I’m assuming you brought the device that will allow you to check your mail?”
Morgan ducked her head, embarrassed. Heat crept up her cheeks. She hadn’t realized she’d been so obvious with her furtive glances toward her bag.
“Thanks, Uncle. Yes, I have my iPad. I can also check them on my phone. I just prefer to do it on my iPad. The screen’s bigger and I can type faster. Are you sure you don’t mind? It won’t take a second. I promise, if there’s nothing from Dad, I’ll close it right up and we can get back to where we were.”
Her uncle smiled indulgently. “Take all the time you need. I’ll sit here and enjoy my tea.”
* * *
Leslie watched Rex’s daughter pull a tablet from her handbag and quickly set it up in front of her. He couldn’t see the screen from where he was sitting, but he didn’t need to. He’d composed the email less than thirty minutes earlier. He knew exactly what it said.
Her confession that her cop friend had confirmed his criminal record had startled him, even though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Cops seemed to have the ability to sense a criminal in their midst. It was the same with other criminals. They all seemed to know when they were in the company of someone who’d done time. He was no different.
He’d have to be extra vigilant and watch everything he said. Morgan had told her father she was only in town for two weeks. Two weeks. That’s how long he had to keep his lies straight and not raise anyone’s suspicions, particularly the cop’s.
Cops were bad news. They saw beyond
the façade. They saw things nobody else did. A nosy cop could undo him and ruin all his plans. He wouldn’t let it happen. There was no way he was giving up his new life.
Morgan gasped in surprise and pleasure and he guessed she’d found the email from her father.
“What is it?” he asked, keeping up the pretense.
“It’s Dad! He’s finally responded to my messages! He says he’s sorry for not telling me about Rusty and that everything is fine. He’s on his way to Darwin, but he’s going to try and get home before I leave.”
She looked up at him with eyes that shone with relief. Leslie tamped down a surge of guilt and forced a smile.
“That’s great, honey. I’m glad he’s doing okay. Now you can put your mind at ease and not be so worried all the time. He’s a big boy. He knows how to look after himself. He’ll be home before you know it.”
Leslie offered her another reassuring smile and picked up the pot of tea. “Now, would you like a refill before I regale you with a few more of the ups and downs of my life?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Colt glanced at the clock on the wall and stretched out in his seat. His shift was almost over and he had yet to hear from Morgan. She’d told him she was spending the day with her uncle. She was supposed to call him for a ride home. He’d just tugged out his phone, intent on phoning her, when the device rang in his hand. He glanced at the screen and smiled.
“Mom, how are you doing?”
“I’m well thanks, Colt. You’re sounding rather cheery. I take it you had a good day at work?”
“Yeah, I guess. The truth is, I thought you were someone else.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wished them back. He grimaced and hoped his mother wouldn’t notice his slip. He should have known better.
