by Fiona Palmer
‘You call me anytime, Jaz.’ His lips were by her ear and his voice was soft and tender.
‘Thanks Cody. Thanks for checking out the gym. I can’t …’ Her words fell away as she let him go.
‘I know. I’ll be around,’ he said squeezing her shoulder, before heading out the door with a last goodbye to everyone else.
‘Lenore, your coffee,’ said Paul, as he placed her mug down in front of her while Simon brought Anna’s and Tay’s.
‘Thanks Paul. I rang Jeffery, I forgot what time it was in America but this news couldn’t wait,’ said Lenore. ‘He’s going to book a flight home the moment we know the date for the funeral. It will be nice to have both my babies by my side again.’ Lenore smiled at Anna.
Everyone nodded around the table. Jaz felt as if a bomb had just exploded and everyone was still shell-shocked and numb with pain and ears ringing. Well, that’s how she felt. She didn’t want to sit around the table and tell stories of Pax, and cry and laugh. Instead she turned and walked off to the stairs, up to her bedroom.
She grabbed the small photo album from the bottom drawer in her desk and went to her window, drawing back the dark curtains and unlatching the glass. Jaz climbed outside and sat just outside her window on the roof. It was night, most of the street was tucked up in bed, only the streetlights left up. Making herself comfortable, Jaz opened the album; the light from her bedroom was plenty to see with.
Two photos in and she found what she was looking for, a photo of herself in a white singlet, and resting around her neck was the medallion. Her father’s medallion. She rang her finger over the picture. She knew every line, scratch and curve of that metal circle. It was all she had of her biological father and she’d clung to it like a queen to her crown. It would have killed her back then if she’d lost it.
Except now she had lost it but her gut twisted at the thought of getting it back. Did she want it back? Was it too tarnished? How could it hold the same value now?
Jaz flicked through a few more photos until she found one of Pax at the gym. He was down on all fours scrubbing the mats. A job Jaz had taken on because she didn’t like seeing him working so hard, especially at his age. This photo proved that Pax was a man who worked hard, had no airs or graces even though he came from a very wealthy family and had an inheritance that could see him living in a mansion, not a rundown house attached to a rundown gym. He’d been her grandfather figure, her inspiration, and her centre.
Jaz pressed her lips together as hot tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them now, even as she tried hard to control her breathing, but the more she looked at the photos of Pax at the gym the more she realised what she’d lost. She felt the big hole well up inside her, like an abyss threatening to suck all the life from her.
If she hadn’t have asked him about Salvatore and the medallion, would he still be alive? Pax hadn’t had time to say anything, to answer her burning questions, and now he’d never would. Jaz was still no closer to knowing the full truth.
Deep down everything was too much of a coincidence. Yet it was like a war raging inside her mind; until she knew the truth, part of her still refused to believe it was possible. It wasn’t something she could go to her mum about without spilling the beans on the agency. When her mum had fought so hard to give Jaz a safe normal life, she couldn’t ruin that by telling her she’d joined the same agency. Maybe when she was older, but not now. Until then, Jaz would have to keep this secret. Maybe the only person she could talk to about it was Salvatore himself? Jaz shivered and drew her knees up. Was she mad?
The night was settling around her and the air was feeling crisper. How long had she been sitting out here?
Her album was closed but she could see Pax clearly in her mind. His smile, those soft eyes, and she could even hear his laugh, which was a deep throaty chuckle. How long until those memories faded? How long until she’d be grasping at wispy threads of images? How long until life moved on without him?
Chapter 7
Ryan left his flat, TV going and lights on, and went down to the secured parking below. They’d picked this flat as the private parking meant only those with a card could get in. This way he could leave a beat-up hatchback inside to drive out and hopefully not be followed or noticed if he was being watched. Now was one of those times he needed to escape the flat.
With his hat and sunglasses on, he sunk low into the driver’s seat to give the illusion he was a very short person, and drove the yellow hatchback outside once the roller door opened. He drove around for a bit, doubled back, and checked he hadn’t been followed, before making his way into the city to meet up with James.
He parked under the building then made his way to the office where Janice buzzed him in. Ryan went straight to James’s office door and knocked.
‘Come in.’
Ryan entered, found James sitting at his desk, his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he waded through paperwork. One lone chair sat opposite the large desk. The room was pretty simple, with just one cheap print on the wall. If you found yourself in this office it would look like any normal office, except the paperwork James was looking through was collection information on suspects, drug shipments, trafficking of young girls and more. Not many people got to lay eyes on what James saw, not even the Commissioner of Police, unless it was necessary.
‘Ryan, grab a seat.’ James sat back in his chair and stretched. ‘Tilly said he told you about Pax?’
He nodded and all hope that the news had been wrong vanished like a popped balloon. ‘What happened, have you heard?’ Ryan needed to know the full story.
‘Jaz was with him when he had another heart attack,’ said James.
Ryan drew in a shaky breath. Poor Jaz.
‘He flatlined at the gym and the ambos brought him back, but by the time they got to the hospital he’d gone again and couldn’t be revived.’ James sighed heavily and rubbed his face slowly. ‘I feel for those kids. They were all there, they all loved him, had grown up with him. It’s devastating. Pax was here from nearly the beginning, he’s been the glue that held this agency together. He’ll be bloody missed.’ James swallowed hard. ‘I hate to say it, but it’s lucky we brought Anna in when we did. Pax’s expertise and knowledge is something that would have been hard to replace.’
Ryan nodded, trying to stay focused when his heart was racing. His mind was taken up with images of Jaz watching Pax having a heart attack.
‘Looks like the funeral will be next week. I know you’d like to go but it’s not going to be possible,’ said James, holding up a hand as if he knew Ryan was about to protest. ‘We’re already taking a big risk to get you to your sister’s wedding this weekend. Besides, we can’t have all our people linked. Those of us who will go will be undercover.’
‘I know.’ Ryan knew only too well but it didn’t make it any easier. And James had pulled lots of strings to get him out for Steph’s wedding. He only had one sibling and if he didn’t go to her wedding he’d regret it for the rest of his life, that and Steph would probably kill him.
‘So it’s all go with Jamison?’ asked James.
He leant forward, his blue eyes bright, and Ryan found himself lost in their resemblance to Jaz’s for a moment. God he missed her. He was so used to working with her, running into her at the gym, seeing her smile and the strength she radiated. She was a breath of fresh air in a musty stale room. She’d become someone special; he knew that, he’d been fighting it, but that night in the Wicked van had just about been his undoing. Jaz was even more delectable than he could imagine. Even now he could still feel the soft mounds in his hands, the dip of her back down to the gentle curve of her backside, and that G-string! She’d surprised him.
James cleared his throat, waiting for an answer. Ryan shook the sweet memories from his mind.
He knew he had to distance himself from her. It had been hard but jumping into this mission had helped. ‘Um, yes. I’ve got my foot in the door thanks to Tilly’s help. Now I’ve ju
st got to do a good job and wait for my next chance to step up.’ Or the next opportunity they could work to his favour. Ryan was aiming to get to bodyguard status. Driving Jamison around was one thing, but being a guard and going inside buildings with Jamison would put him closer to the action and information. He had to be patient, as it could take years and he had to be loyal, which meant doing anything that was asked. Even kill an innocent. He hoped he didn’t have to, but they were all prepared to do what was necessary to infiltrate Jamison’s business and network.
‘Um, James?’ Ryan cleared his throat. ‘While I’m here, I have a few questions about Salvatore.’ Ryan didn’t need to mention his last name, Sal was a well-known target.
‘Sure, shoot.’
‘What info do you have on him, like before he came to WA? Who was working the De Luca case back then?’
James glanced at the photo on his desk. ‘My sister, actually.’ He kept looking at it as he spoke. ‘Natasha was to get into the family home and she did that by getting Salvatore’s attention. He was young then, and from what Natty told me she believed him to be innocent. Tried telling me on many occasions, actually, that Sal didn’t want to be like his father, nor did he want to join his business, and even then I could tell that Natty cared for Sal. They say not to get involved, but when you are with someone for a long time during an op things can get a little blurry.’
‘Yeah, we all know that too well. And if your sister was young it would have been harder on her.’
‘Yes, I believe it was. You know the main reason I came to Perth is because Sal did. After my sister went missing, I just had a feeling it was because of Sal and that Natty was hurt or had been found out. I wasn’t sure if it was Sal’s dad, or whether Sal had been involved or not. So when he suddenly moved, I followed. I watched him for a whole year, between my sister’s disappearance and his move to WA. I saw a man suffering as I was and I believed then that he truly loved my sister. At this stage I’d set up the WA agency and made a base so I could come and go and keep an eye on Sal, just in case Natty turned up. I half wondered if Sal moved because he feared his own father may have done something but I scratched that idea, as a few years later, that’s when intel started to come in that Sal had finally moved into the family business. He wouldn’t have done that if he suspected his father of interfering with his relationship.’
‘Right,’ said Ryan as he tried to take all this in. ‘Did Sal ever have any children? Any other women?’
James shook his head. ‘No children that we know of and the women have never been anything serious. I almost felt sorry for the man. Watching him grieve the loss of my sister was weird, and it was nice to know I wasn’t the only one struggling. Maybe it was having Natty tell me about him and confide in me that made me feel for the guy; well, for a bit, until he started up business. If our parents had known about her affections for Sal they would have taken her out of that operation in an instant. Sometimes I wonder if I had told them, maybe she’d still be alive today.’
Ryan squirmed in his seat. The secret he kept was like an anvil in his lower intestines. His tongue burned with the desire to spill the beans and tell James his sister was alive and well. But it was not his secret to tell.
‘When did your sister go missing?’ James gave him the dates and Ryan did a quick calculation. It fitted in with Jaz’s birthday, giving room for a few months that Tasha may not have realised she was pregnant or was deciding what to do. The more he learned of Tasha and Sal’s involvement, the more it cemented the idea that Sal was, quite possibly, Jaz’s real father.
The room closed in on him as this finally sunk in. The man he hated, had been trying to take down since the killing of his mate Chris, was the biological father of Jaz. It didn’t sit right in his mind. But it explained Jaz’s olive skin, the same as Salvatore’s, and her hair. Ryan knew Jaz couldn’t help who her father was and he was sure she’d feel rather upset about this news also. Who would be happy to find out you had a drug lord as a father? Especially one you’d been trying to take down.
Shit. What a mixed-up mess. Actually, it was all rather fucked up. Ryan’s brain felt like it was going to explode like an overripe watermelon.
Especially as James was now talking him through the plan for his escape to his sister’s wedding and who was in place to help.
For the first time in ages, Ryan felt like he was treading water and he feared that if he stopped he’d sink to the bottom like a bound body weighed with an anchor.
***
Somehow Ryan got through the next few days by focusing on the job at hand, which was being glued to Jamison’s car and being where he was requested promptly. Jamison hadn’t been anywhere new, just from his house to his warehouses and to meetings with clients and managers. He remained quiet and professional unless Jamison spoke to him and required an answer. Jamison was not one for idle chitchat. Friday night, when he dropped him back home, Jamison shook his hand.
‘Good job, Reece.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
He didn’t mention his daughter, obviously not mixing work with private life.
After Jamison walked to his house, Ryan doubled over clutching his stomach.
‘You okay?’ asked Jamison’s bodyguard.
‘I’m not sure, Mr Randall,’ said Ryan, taking some sharp breaths. ‘I may have got gastro from my sister. I’m not feeling well at all.’
Mr Randall, whose first name Ryan was yet to learn, screwed up his face and took a step back. ‘Will you be right for work tomorrow?’
Ryan shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Can someone fill in, just in case?’
‘I’ll get it sorted. Are you right to head home?’ Mr Randall had inadvertently taken a few more steps back. To see the big man afraid was something new.
No one like a gastro bug. Not even a hard-hitting bodyguard.
‘I think so.’ Ryan stood up and breathed heavily. ‘I’ll make it.’
‘Right. Let me know how you get on, Mr Lancaster,’ he said before he walked off to check the perimeter of Jamison’s house, which was his usual routine.
Ryan got back to his flat and called Annaliese to give her the same gastro story.
‘I’m sorry, babe, I feel so sick. I’ve got it from both ends,’ he said.
‘Aw, honey. Do you need me to come over and look after you?’ she offered, but he could tell from her tone she wasn’t that keen on the idea.
‘No. I don’t want to ruin your night out. I’ll be fine. My sister’s gastro only lasted a day or two, so I should be good by Sunday. Maybe we can catch up then if I’m better. I don’t want to give this to you, Annaliese.’
‘Are you sure?’
He could hear the relief in her voice. ‘Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how I’m going. I’ve gotta go, next wave,’ he said with a groan.
‘Bye baby, rest up,’ her tone was sincere.
Now the plans were all played out. He just had to wait until tomorrow.
In the morning he rang Mr Randall and informed him he was no better.
‘You just stay there, Reece, and rest up. We’ve got Luke filling in for you today. Don’t worry about a thing. Let me know Sunday if you’ll be right for Monday.’
It was the first time Mr Randall had used his first name and, as for Luke, he wasn’t sure who that was without a last name. ‘Thank you, Mr Randall. I appreciate it.’
Next he called Annaliese, told her he was still violently sick and then let her tell him about her night and her plans for the day. He took note of what she was doing, just to make sure their paths wouldn’t cross.
Then he put on his usual disguise and went down to the yellow hatch. He drove around until he was certain he wasn’t followed, and then made his way to one of the safe houses. It was a simple brick and tile house that had seen better days. He wasn’t at this safe house for long; instead he went right through it, out the back door. The yard was compact with a tiny garden shed along the back fence. Ryan entered this, shut the door behind him before
moving the panel that allowed him to walk into the backyard of the house opposite. On his way through the small unkempt garden, he removed the hidden key from under the rock by the back door and entered.
It was another three-by-two red brick house, but it served the agency’s purpose. Ryan, out of habit, searched out the whole house before heading back to the main bedroom. Here, spread out on the double bed, he found the dark grey suit, black shirt and white tie for the wedding, change of clothes, money, sunglasses, a card for his sister that he needed to write in and his shoes. The bathroom was already kitted out with simple supplies, towels, toiletries. The other bathroom was filled with female supplies for the female agents. Each agency safe house was the same.
Ryan checked his watch. He had a few hours to himself and then he’d take all his stuff by taxi to his parents’ place, where they were all getting ready together.
There was a lot of double-checking, backtracking, watching the rear-view mirrors, and even then Ryan still was taking a risk he’d be noticed, followed. But even if it seemed like overkill, he took every precaution. He found keeping his mind focused stopped it wandering to Jaz and the fact he’d see her soon. Did he tell her about Salvatore? Had she already figured it out? How was she coping with Pax’s death?
Ryan grunted at his own mental weakness and pushed the questions aside. He couldn’t waste time wondering. Right now he needed to write down all the intel he’d gathered in the last few days. Soon enough he’d see Jaz.
Chapter 8
