Shadows of the Past

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Shadows of the Past Page 22

by Frances Housden


  Nor bars a prison make, he thought, looking round him at the standard-issue green paint that gave Auckland Central lockup a malevolent hue. A drab dreary place, he’d no intention staying in it any longer than he had to.

  Another saying—Needs must when the Devil drives—almost had him laughing out loud at its appropriateness. He forced it back, to save it for later when he would have the last laugh. No need to make the cop leading him to the cells suspicious.

  A feeling of exhilaration filled himlization it would all be over soon. The patience he’d shown during months he’d spent stalking Maria was about to reap its reward. There was only one more thing in his way. One more man who’d thought he could lay hands on what belonged to him. But he was wrong!

  Even in death, Maria would always be his.

  Undecided was the best word to describe Maria’s mood. Yes, Franc had called, and yes, Randy Searle was locked up…locked up for now was her knee-jerk reaction.

  A detective had arrived at the Northcote Point villa over two hours ago to interview her, which made four hours since Franc had called her to say he would come round.

  “I need to have a word with you.”

  Maria had a feeling that the word would be goodbye.

  The later it got, the higher the humidity climbed. Now it was in the nineties, and the air, heavy with moisture, wrapped everyone in a thick blanket too heavy to scramble out from under. Unlike Maria, who perched on the edge of a rattan chair so very little skin touched, Tess and Linda sprawled over the mismatched sofa and chair in front of the fan.

  They’d all succumbed to T-shirts and shorts the minute they’d gotten home from work, and after a light salad that Maria had found hard to swallow, they couldn’t summon up enough energy to do more than switch on the TV.

  Linda controlled the remote and flicked to a comedy the moment the news turned to sports, no need to wait for the weather forecast, it would be more of the same.

  “Well, at least you didn’t make the local news,” yawned Tess. “So you can stop worrying about hordes of reporters eager to make a slim connection between today’s incident and the past.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Linda. “Maybe you can stop jumping like a scalded cat every time a car drives along the street.”

  “It’s not that,” Maria said. “I’m over worrying about reporters. My future doesn’t depend on them. Franc said he’d come over tonight and I’m sure he’s going to dump me.”

  “That’s easily fixed, dump him first.” Tess shifted positions to the other corner of her chair and hung her leg over the opposite arm in search of a cool place. “That’s what I’d do.”

  Linda disagreed. “But Maria’s not you. Sure, she might have wanted to be like us, out on dates two or three nights a week, but no one can teach you how to get over rejection. It’s something you have to tough out by yourself.”

  “It’s not as if I didn’t know it was coming. I just didn’t think I’d fall in love with him so soon.” Maria got up and started to pace. “How do I get over love?”

  “Chocolate, lots of chocolate,” Tess said. “They say there’s something in it that helps mend broken hearts.”

  Linda never thought along the same lines as Tess, but Maria was used to their lighthearted wrangling.

  No chocolate, no way,” Linda barked. “All that does is make you so fat it’s impossible to get another date when you get over your broken heart. And you will, Maria. The pain will eventually go away.”

  “From where my life stands at the moment, I can’t see that ever happening. Now I know why those blighted lovers in historical romances went into a decline.”

  “Phooey. You’ve only just started to live, don’t throw in the towel already—” Linda broke off as the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” sang Maria and started to dash to the door.

  “Wait!” hollered Tess. “Turn around, let me look at you. Okay, not bad, fluff up your hair and lick your lips.”

  Maria pulled down on the creased legs of her shorts, after she did as instructed, though she felt stupid standing there like a storefront dummy.

  “Yeah, like that. Now go out there with your head high and your chest out.”

  As she left the room, she heard her friends laugh. “Sex on legs. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Her breaths came thick and fast and her heart thumped a tattoo in her ears as she opened the door. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, hoping her words weren’t laced with the disappointment she felt as her heart dropped and landed at her feet. “I was expecting Franc.”

  She heard him sigh and even before he spoke, Maria knew something was wrong. “That’s why I’m here. There’s been a car accident and Franc’s asking for you.”

  The news hit her like a kick to the stomach. Her vision blurred and the messenger’s face melted away in the tears welling in her eyes. “Where is he?”

  “Auckland Hospital. I’ll take you, but we’d better hurry.”

  A dead feeling washed over her, numbing her brain as she said, “Start the car. I’ll go get my purse.”

  The only thing she comprehended was if Franc died, her life would be empty. Oh, she’d survive; she’d done it before. God, she’d become a card-carrying member of the survivors’ union. But without Franc there would be a gap in her life no one else could fill.

  Her jaw firmed as she lightly jumped down the porch steps and ran to the car waiting to take her to Franc. If it took all that was in her, she’d make sure he would become a survivor, too.

  Chapter 17

  Franc knew he should have called Maria again before turning up on her doorstep, but what could he have said?

  This evening had opened his eyes to the consequences of threatening someone’s life. Of course, it had been all heat and words, but try telling the cops that. He had to admit; finding himself a

  suspect in a murder case had given his confidence a knock. And of course, being his sister, Jo had to go away and leave him to get on with the interview.

  It was the darnedest thing Randy Searle dying that way. Seems he had more enemies than you could poke a stick at, for he definitely hadn’t poisoned the guy.

  Searle might have been a rat of the lowest order, putting Maria through all that stalking business just to get his hands on the research she’d been doing for Stanhope Electronics, but the man wasn’t worth a life sentence. Franc had an inkling of the guy who might be behind the theft, but with Searle dead, they’d never be able to prove it, unless Kathy Gilbertson knew.

  He’d first taken over at Stanhope Electronics in an attempt to bring the place into the twenty-first century. The previous CEO, Bradbury Fyfe had been given a golden handshake worth six figures, to leave, and as a consequence hated his guts. Fyfe hated Brent’s guts, too, but that had its roots in a competition over a woman, not his job as general manager, though that could be placed under the heading of putting the boot in.

  Searle had worked for Fyfe; in fact, the guy had brought Searle into the company from England. He must remember to inform Jo about the connection between the two.

  All thought of Searle and Fyfe’s possible collusion melted away as Franc turned his car into Maria’s driveway. A spark of hope brightened his day. Since her car still resided in the carport, chances were she hadn’t gone off in a fit of pique because he’d been later than intended.

  Franc took the porch steps two at a time. Tension added its two cents’ worth to what had been one of the worst days of his life. That’s if he discounted his mother dying practically before he’d taken his first step, and his father playing stunt driver on the cliffs at Torbay.

  Doubt had just spritzed a dash of cold water on his plans.

  What if Maria said no?

  He pressed his thumb on the doorbell and clinked the car keys to the rhythm of his impatient heart. As the ringing faded, silence prevailed. No one, it seemed, was in a rush to open the door, and when it did, a pair of blue eyes peeped at him through the gap left by the safety chain. It wasn’t Maria.
/>   “Can I speak to Maria?”

  “Who wants to see her?”

  He admired her caution, but she should have known by now Searle was locked up, even if she hadn’t yet heard he was dead. No doubt that piece of information would hit the late-news headlines. “Tell Maria that it’s Franc Jellic, and I really need to talk to her.”

  “Pull the other one, mate, Franc Jellic is in hospital, all smashed up from a car accident, and Maria’s with him, so buzz off.”

  He put his shoulder to the door just as she was about to close it in his face. “Wait a minute, Tess, Linda, whichever one you are, what the hell are you talking about? I’m Franc Jellic and I can prove it.” He shoved his fist into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  “Just because you’ve done your homework and have our names down pat, you don’t fool me.” Then she started to shout, “Linda! Come and help me shut the door.”

  “Here, take this.” He pushed his wallet at her and let it fall through the gto the floor at her feet. “Close the door if you must, but when you’ve looked at my ID, open it again. We need to talk. Randy Searle was killed tonight and Maria could be in danger. Check it out. I’m alive and kicking.” He stepped back and let her close the door, though he felt like taking his toe to the door to prove the kicking part.

  Where was a boot when you needed it? He looked down at the loafers he’d put on after ducking home to change and wash the stink of Auckland Central from him. He’d visited there before, to see Jo, and he’d been interested in everything she’d shown him, but it took on a different ambience from the wrong side of an interview table.

  He could hear a buzz of conversation on the other side of frosted-glass door panels that had survived intact from the early 1900s. A minute later the door opened again, this time without the chain. “We’re two to one and we’ve got your wallet.”

  “Hang on to it if you like, it isn’t much of a weapon though. Are you going to tell me where Maria’s gone and what’s all this nonsense about me being in the hospital?”

  “Someone came for her, a man. We peeped through the window, thinking it was you because we wanted to see who’d been leading Maria on a merry dance since we left for the summer break.”

  She stopped for a breath and the other one chipped in, “Oh my God! We didn’t get a good look. Before we’d time to pull the curtain back, Maria rushed in and grabbed her purse. She said you’d been seriously injured in a car smash and you were asking for her.”

  “From your hospital bed.”

  Linda flung the door wide. “The phone’s down the hall. Do you want us to call the cops or will you do it?”

  He followed them into the hallway and took the wallet that Linda handed him. “Thanks, I know where it is but I’ll use my cell phone,” he said, his mind frantically dragging up umpteen scenarios as he punched in Jo’s number. “Did you see the car she left in?”

  “We were too busy talking about you, wondering what could have happened. We actually thought of driving across the bridge to Auckland Hospital after her. You know, in case she needed a hug.”

  Damn, they didn’t even have the make of the car to go on. Where to start…where to start? The words went around his mind in circles but he didn’t dare show his panic to Maria’s friends.

  “Put those hugs on hold, I’m sure she’s going to need them before we get her out of this one. Now, has anyone else been hanging round the villa, apart from Randy Searle and Tony who lives on the corner? I want to give the cops every smidgen of information I can, so they can get the ball rolling.”

  And what was he going to say to Jo? That the guy who’d sent Maria the threat was still around and about to do his worst because he knew they’d tried to put one over on him.

  Maria’s brain felt as if it had been cleaved in two and neither left nor right side was controlling her thinking processes. Where on earth was she and how had she gotten there?

  She raised her head slowly, very slowly. She’d never been drunk in her life, but she imagined this was how a hangover would feel. Her left arm must have gone to sleep; she couldn’t feel it. Instead, a sharp pain streaked up to her shoulder each time she tried moving her fingers. It was cold. Oh, so cold, and damp. Her bones ached as she pushed up on her other elbow. “Ooow.” That was the one she’d landed on when Randy let go and she hit the pavement.

  Breathe slowly, deeply, till the pain goes away.

  If only it was that easy.

  She shivered; and grew goose pimples. Why was it so cold? She shook her aching head. Her brain sloshed from side to side as she tried making sense of things. If it was winter, why in all that was holy had she worn shorts and a T-shirt?

  She gave it a minute and tried again, gritting her teeth against the pain. It took her longer than that to focus, to adjust her cockeyed vision to the dim light. A yellow light, it came from over her right shoulder and barely made the distance to where she was tied up.

  Tied up! She stared above her shoulder where her left hand dangled from a manacle fastened to the wall with a short chain. No wonder she’d lost all feeling in it. She started shivering for real, great wracking shudders that hyphenated the sobs coursing up her throat. Gradually, she forced her breathing back to normal. She had to calm down, look around and scope the landscape of her prison.

  First thing she had to do was push far enough up the wall to try to restore her circulation, then see how hard it was going to be to remove the manacle.

  The wall at her back was damp, but she leaned on it, needing support, as the least bit of movement made her head spin and deep breathing was all that countered the sensation.

  Uncomfortable, she pulled down on a leg of her shorts. It had bunched up and was cutting into her thigh. The action brought with it a flash of memory. Her posing in front of Tess and Linda, licking her lips and fluffing her hair before she went out to meet Franc.

  Franc! The accident…then it all came flooding back. The hand over her mouth, the chloroform just like the last time…

  Exactly like last time.

  She looked around, knowing she had been in this place before.

  If ever there was a memory to make her flesh crawl…

  At Franc’s behest, Tess and Linda went over anyone who might have taken a fancy to Maria. In one way he was glad there were so few others apart from Tony Cahill and Arthur Collins, and though he couldn’t see her being naive enough to go off with either of them, they would have to be checked out.

  Jo and Rowan were on their way and put out an all points bulletin with Maria’s description, and much as he wanted to batter down Tony’s door and ask where Maria was, he had overstepped the mark once that day and it wouldn’t do Maria any good for him to be pulled in for questioning again.

  He’d only to let his mind drift back to Maria for his nerves to start jumping. God, he prayed she wasn’t too frightened.

  The moment he found her he would lift her in his arms and never let her go. He tried to imagine what she must be going through, but that brought up pictures of her scars gained from her last encounter with an abductor. There wasn’t a doubt in his frazzled mind that it had happened again.

  Dread bathed his skin with cold sweat. Last time what happened to her was so horrific she’d shut the memory away. Now her dreams were haunted by the shadows of her past. What if they got her back and she’d forgotten him, forgotten the fun they’d had and the nights of splendor in each other’s arms?

  His ambitions faded to nothing in comparison.

  Maria congratulated herself on having found a hairpin caught up in the ends of her hair. It had turned up like manna from heaven, but could she make it work?

  Hope blossomed in her chest, yet like a desert oasis there was still a chance her escape could be a mirage.

  Terrified she would drop the hairpin on the dank floor, she held it between her teeth, straightening it into a slightly wavy strip of metal. Tess and Linda used to laugh at her, saying hairpins were old-fashioned contraptions. Now it could be her way out of her
e. Thank heavens she hadn’t chosen the butterflies she’d worn to gate-crash Franc’s party…

  “Oh, Franc.” Her lip quivered. Was he out there searching for her? God help her if he’d changed his mind about calling at the villa. She took the hairpin out of her mouth and concentrated on bending the metal tip in a crack in the mortar between the stone blocks.

  “God helps them who help themselves.”

  Would her abductor appreciate that thought? A few moments ago she’d discovered an alcove above her head. And now that her eyes had become accustomed to the gloom, she could see there were more, darker shadows where the absence of light hung like a gray curtain. She was in a crypt, but she wouldn’t let her imagination dwell on it. Not if she wanted to get out.

  She briskly rubbed the tip of the hairpin against the wall, hoping a little friction would bend it into an L shape. Yes!

  Now all she had to do was twist around to reach the lock on her manacle. How much jiggling around it would take to unlock it was another story.

  Tess and Linda had wanted to go with Franc, but there had been no point. Better they stayed where they were and minded the phone in case Maria called.

  Jo and Rowan had arrived and they’d tried Tony, who hadn’t been home. From there, they’d all gone into Auckland’s Central Business District where the suspect worked nights as a busboy. He’d been there since 5:00 p.m. And his boss backed up his story, which meant they were back where they’d started.

  Franc had been forced to call Andrea, Maria’s brother, knew he should have done it sooner, but he’d hoped for better news before the Costellos descended en masse. The moment they found Maria, Rosa would be over her like a blanket, smothering her with care and attention until her daughter lost herself again.

  And he was positive that was the last thing Maria wanted.

 

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