The Betrayal

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The Betrayal Page 25

by Chris Taylor


  He picked up after the first ring. “Chloe, thank Christ; how did it go?”

  Fresh tears overwhelmed her and emotion tightened her throat. She swallowed and tried to speak. “He-he…”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. Where are you?” he asked.

  “I’ve… I’ve just left his office. I’m on the side of the road, not far from the Hill.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Chloe ended the call and dragged in a breath. Knowing Declan was nearby and ready to provide comfort calmed her frantic thoughts. Moments later, the sound of a motorbike snagged her attention. She smiled tremulously when he drew up behind her on his Ducati.

  * * *

  Charlie wiped the sweat off his forehead and upper lip and wished he hadn’t finished the second bottle of rum. He could have done with a double shot right about now.

  After telephoning the Master earlier, he’d spent the time since sitting in his pickup, not far from his Master’s office, planning how to do his lover’s bidding. He’d been there more almost an hour when he spied Declan on his midnight-black Panigale Ducati. He was heading toward Parliament House, less than two hundred yards from where Charlie was parked.

  He was more than a little surprised that Declan would be in the vicinity of Parliament House. This early in the morning, the building was only open to parliamentary staff, or those with approved access to them.

  He watched with interest as Declan came to a halt in the public car park right outside the building and parked the bike. After tugging off his helmet, he sat there, as if waiting for someone.

  Intrigued, Charlie looked over his shoulder and then out his window to discover what might warrant Declan’s attention, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Confused, he settled back against his seat and prepared to wait.

  It was more than half an hour later, when Charlie heard the sound of the Ducati roar to life. He sat up and blinked to sharpen his gaze. Declan had halted beside a little red Honda that had appeared from the direction of the staff car park under Parliament House. It had pulled up on the shoulder of the road a little over a hundred yards away. Charlie watched as the door to the Honda opened. His jaw dropped open in shock.

  The IA investigator climbed out of the car and fell into Declan’s arms. He hugged her close, his lips moving against her hair, his hands caressing her back. Suddenly, everything dropped into place…

  Declan was fucking the investigator. No wonder she’d gone after Charlie like a ferret down a hole. She was doing the defendant…

  Another thought struck him.

  Had the Master changed his mind? Had he summoned the investigator to his office to deal with himself? She was, after all, his niece. Had he doubted Charlie’s ability to do the deed?

  Fear and desperation surged through him. He had to prove himself worthy—of the Master and of his love. He focused yet again on the little red Honda and noticed Declan had climbed back onto the Ducati. He and the Honda were now moving out into the traffic.

  Determined to show the Master his depth of love and loyalty, Charlie started the pickup and tailed them. His orders had been to take out the investigator, but right here and now, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass off to rid the world of both of them in one fell swoop. He only hoped he could manage it.

  Flattening the accelerator, he sped along the lane that ran parallel to the one the Honda was in. Its indicator came on and the vehicle moved into the left-hand lane. Charlie smiled in delight. She was about two hundred feet in front of him and another two hundred from the nearest exit. The Ducati had dropped back, caught up in traffic, but it didn’t matter. The investigator was his main target. He needed to stay focused.

  His heart thumped hard. Once again sweat beaded his brow and across his upper lip and he swiped at them both with the back of his hand. Blood pounded in his ears. He stamped hard on the accelerator. His pickup leaped forward.

  He closed the distance between him and the Honda, speeding past cars that were in the outside lane. Adrenaline surged through him. He was twenty feet away…ten…five… A wild, primeval yelp of triumph echoed in his ears.

  The investigator turned and saw him, terror bursting across her face seconds before the side of his pickup slammed into the driver’s side of her vehicle, pushing her off the road.

  The squeal of metal on metal was ear splitting. Sparks flew between the vehicles and still he kept the accelerator pressed flat to the floor. He glanced ahead and saw the huge gum tree. A grin widened his mouth. The little Honda was headed straight for it.

  CHAPTER 26

  Declan maneuvered the bike through the gridlock of traffic, cursing under his breath as Chloe’s Honda pulled ahead of him. He didn’t know what had happened in her uncle’s office, but he’d never seen such desolation on her face. She’d been almost beyond speech.

  Reassuring himself that she wasn’t hurt and that she was capable of driving home, he’d urged her to go directly to his apartment and assured her he’d be right behind her.

  She’d nodded her agreement and he’d scrambled back onto his bike, eager to get her home and do whatever it took to remove the sadness in her eyes. He didn’t want to admit it, but the blank expression on her face terrified him.

  He glanced beside him and changed lanes, hoping to make up ground. A silver pickup ahead of him snagged his attention. He frowned as he recognized it. It was Charlie’s, he was sure of it.

  The pickup was traveling fast, faster than the posted speed limit. It was headed right for Chloe.

  Misgivings stirred in his gut. They quickly morphed into panic. He shook his head from side to side and a scream climbed up his throat.

  He opened up the throttle and urged the bike on faster, but he was too far away. He watched in horror as Charlie’s pickup collided with the side of the little Honda and forced it into the gutter.

  The sound of screeching metal reached him. No match for the pickup, the Honda’s wheels caught on the side of the curb and flipped up on its side. Seconds later, it slammed into a tree.

  Shock and disbelief temporarily immobilized him. Chloe’s terrified scream reached him over the cacophony of traffic and other noise. His blood ran cold.

  “No, no, no, no, no!” he shouted, bringing the Ducati to a screeching halt. Leaping off, he tore toward the site of the accident. Smoke billowed from Chloe’s car.

  “Someone call a fucking ambulance!” he screamed, his gaze never straying from the mangled wreck that had once been a little red Honda.

  He finally reached her and banged on the side of the car to get her attention. The driver’s side window had shattered, but he could still see her through the crazed glass.

  “Chloe? Can you hear me? For Christ’s sake, answer me!”

  He heaved on the door handle, but the battered and twisted metal didn’t budge. He tried the rear passenger side door and had the same result. He banged the side of the car once again in an effort to get her attention.

  “Chloe, answer me. Please, sweetheart. Please let me know you can hear me. I need to know you can hear me.”

  He spied the slightest movement of her head and his heart exploded with relief. The sound of sirens ricocheted through his brain. In some disconnected part of his mind, he registered the fact that emergency services were on their way.

  Smoke continued to billow out from underneath the hood. He smelled the distinct odor of leaking fuel.

  Christ, he had to get her out of there.

  Racing around to the passenger side, he pulled up short when he realized the trunk of the tree had wedged itself firmly against the side of the car. There would be no way he could get past it.

  Desperation and helplessness flooded through him. He fell to his knees and clawed at his hair. She was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it.

  He jumped when a large hand landed on his shoulder. “We’ve got it under control, mate. You need to move away.”

  Declan stared up at the fireman who held a thick hose in his
hand.

  “You don’t understand,” Declan implored the man. “She’s still in there. You need to get her out. Please, God, you need to get her out.”

  “It’s okay, we’ll get her out. I promise you. Move away and let us do our job.”

  The fireman opened up the hose and blasted the front of the Honda. Within moments, the smoke died down and Declan collapsed in relief.

  CHAPTER 27

  Declan forced air into his laboring lungs. Everything moved in slow motion. He clenched his fists and tried hard to concentrate on the emergency services personnel that were working quickly to free Chloe from the wreckage of her car.

  His mind shied away from the possibility her injuries could be fatal. He wasn’t ready to contemplate that situation. She was alive. He’s seen her head move. He was sure of it. Hurt, maybe, but alive. He refused to accept any other scenario.

  He was surrounded by police vans and fire engines when he noticed an ambulance had arrived. Uniformed policemen wearing bright, high-visibility vests, directed traffic around the accident site. The smell of burnt rubber and engine oil permeated the air. It looked impossible that anyone could have survived inside the crumpled wreckage of Chloe’s Honda where it lay twisted around the huge gum tree.

  A gray-haired plain-clothes detective with an efficient manner approached him where he lay sprawled on the ground, right outside the cordoned-off area of the accident site.

  “I understand you know the woman in the car,” the man said.

  Declan nodded. “Yeah.” His voice was almost unrecognizable. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, her name’s Chloe Sabattini. She’s a senior investigator with the AFP.”

  The detective paled. “Shit.”

  Declan understood how he felt.

  “Who are you?” the detective asked.

  “Federal Agent Declan Munro.” Declan waited for some sign of recognition, but there was nothing. After taking down details in his notepad, the detective looked up at Declan again.

  “Did you see anything? Do you know what caused the accident?”

  Declan drew in a deep breath and tried to suppress the anger and guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. “Oh, yeah, I saw it all right. And there’s one thing I’m certain of: This was no accident.”

  The strained growl of a hydraulic motor filled the air. A screech of protesting metal followed. Declan leaped up from his seat on the ground and watched in horror as pieces of Chloe’s Honda were ripped apart by the metal teeth of the Jaws of Life.

  A car door. A side panel. Part of the hood. The pieces of severed metal piled up on the side of the road.

  Declan strained to catch a glimpse of Chloe. He spied a patch of clothing—the blouse she’d worn yesterday when she’d turned up at his apartment. The pale fabric was stained with blood.

  His gut clenched in agony. There was so much blood.

  Too much.

  He gasped against the pain that tore through him. He couldn’t bear it if she died. Not now. Not when they’d found each other. It wasn’t fair. It fucking wasn’t fair.

  A shout went up and emergency personnel swarmed around the vehicle. Declan moved this way and that in an effort to see what was happening. A stretcher appeared and moments later, Chloe was lifted onto it.

  Her eyes were closed. She lay motionless. His heart leaped in his throat. She was pale. So pale. Her hand hung limply over the side.

  He wanted to go to her and cradle her in his arms and kiss her pain away. He took a step forward and then another. He didn’t realize he’d approached the blue and white police tape until he felt a restraining hand on his shoulder. Spinning around, he came face to face with the detective he’d spoken to a few moments earlier.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you move any closer. The officers need to do their job. Let them help her. They can do more for her than you can.”

  His words thrummed into Declan’s head. They made sense in a disconnected, dispassionate way, even when he didn’t want them to. He stepped back and the officer’s arm fell away. Declan watched through pain-filled eyes as they loaded Chloe into the waiting ambulance.

  “Where are they taking her?” he croaked through lips that were way past dry.

  “Canberra Hospital.”

  The words had barely left the detective’s mouth when Declan spun around and ran toward his bike, tugging on his helmet as he went. Throwing his leg over the seat, he pressed the ignition switch and gunned the throttle.

  Deftly swerving around the gaggle of bystanders and parked traffic, he skirted the accident site and accelerated. Averting his gaze from what was left of Chloe’s Honda, he headed toward the hospital and tried not to think about the impossibility of anyone surviving an accident marked by an almost-unrecognizable pile of wreckage. He clung to the fact the ambulance officers hadn’t covered her body with a sheet.

  Please, sweetheart… Please don’t die on me. Please don’t die on me.

  The words repeated themselves in his head, a desperate mantra that moved in time with the rotation of his wheels. The noise of the traffic and the road around him receded and he heard nothing but the echo of his soul-wrenching plea.

  In less time than he thought possible and with nothing but a hazy recollection of his journey there, he pulled into the parking lot of Canberra Hospital. Finding a vacant space, he parked and ran toward the emergency department. As much as he was anxious to find out about Chloe’s condition, he was equally terrified some well-meaning stranger with a sympathetic face would be the one to tell him she hadn’t made it. He bit his lip in an effort to stem his panic, once again turning away from the possibility she was dead.

  The automatic doors to the emergency department slid open at his approach. It was still early and the emergency room was empty. With his helmet tucked under his arm, he located the buzzer that allowed him to communicate with the hospital staff beyond the closed doors. It was answered almost immediately.

  “Emergency, can I help you?”

  “I need to see Chloe Sabattini. She was brought in by ambulance a short while ago.”

  “Are you family?”

  Declan paused, knowing if he told the truth, he’d be denied entrance.

  “Yes, I’m her…husband,” he replied and was immediately flooded with guilt. He’d get someone to contact Chloe’s family at the earliest opportunity. If she had any. He was suddenly struck by how much he didn’t know about her.

  “Come in.”

  The door clicked and he pushed it open and found himself surrounded by the cold, sterile environment of the emergency ward. A middle-aged woman in a pale blue uniform bustled toward him.

  “Mr Sabattini?”

  Declan flushed. “Um…it’s Munro. Sabattini is Chloe’s maiden name.”

  The woman nodded understandingly. “Of course. I’m Vera, one of the registered nurses on duty. The doctor is still examining your wife. From what I can ascertain, she’s a very lucky lady.”

  Relief surged through him, weakening his knees. He leaned against the wall for support.

  “Oh, thank God! She’s alive.”

  “Yes, she’s alive but at the moment, she’s unconscious. Her injuries, while not fatal, are very serious. She’ll need surgery. The doctor will be around shortly to talk to you and obtain the necessary consents.”

  Nodding his head automatically, Declan turned away, his head spinning. There was no way he could sign a consent form. Whether he liked it or not, he wasn’t her next of kin. He had no right to give consent. It was imperative he find out if she had any family living close by. Tugging out his cell phone, he dialed Clayton.

  After giving his brother succinct instructions to locate Chloe’s next of kin, he ended the call and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He drew in several deep breaths and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. The nurse said Chloe was alive. He’d concentrate on that and deal with her injuries later. She was alive. That’s what mattered.

  He found the nurse again and caught her attention. “W
hen… When can I see her?”

  Vera nodded and patted his hand. “Soon. The doctor will come and see you and let you know what’s going on. I understand she has a couple of nasty fractures, among other things. Why don’t you take a minute? Can I get you a glass of water?”

  Declan shot her a grateful look. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

  Vera padded away on silent, rubber-soled feet. Declan took the opportunity to bring his heart rate back under control. He didn’t want to frighten Chloe with his panic, especially now that the reason for that panic had abated. She was alive. A few broken bones, not life threatening. She was going to be all right. He prayed it was true.

  Returning a few moments later with a cup of water, Vera offered him the drink and waited for him to finish it.

  “Right now… Feeling better?”

  He nodded and squashed the paper cup in his hand. “Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome.” She smiled. “You’re not the first worried relative we’ve had in here.”

  He managed a small smile in reply.

  “Now, if you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you to your wife. She’s down in Bay Three. The doctor’s waiting to see you there.”

  Feeling much less anxious, Declan followed the nurse through the curtained ward. Various moans and groans and muffled whispers could be heard along the way and he was relieved when Vera finally came to a halt and eased back the curtain surrounding Chloe’s bed.

  He gasped when he saw her. He couldn’t help it. Iridescent blue bruises and angry red abrasions criss-crossed her face. Her eyes were swollen shut. A deep cut on her cheek was already held together with a row of neat, black stitches and glistened with brownish antiseptic. Her arm was in a sling. The bedcovers had been tented over her legs. Declan dreaded to hear what damage they’d sustained.

  But her chest rose and fell unaided and the relief that coursed through him left him weak.

  “Oh, sweetheart. Thank Christ you’re going to be all right.” He rushed over to her side and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. She winced and turned away. Her eyelids fluttered, but remained closed.

 

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