Ridge Creek Reunited (Ridge Creek Duology)

by C L Green

  Moving quickly, Stephen leads us straight down a main hallway to the back of the house. Stepping into a huge open lounge room with French doors, I look ahead to see the room continues out onto a deck that overlooks an in ground swimming pool and a large section of Sydney Harbor. The view is magnificent.

  Bright blue skies set off the picture-perfect view of speedboats, yachts and other boats of all sizes gliding around on the water. I can see how easy it could be to waste the entire day poolside just watching the view.

  Approaching the French doors, I sense movement near the pool and turn to look as two large, tan colored mastiff’s come roaring along the edge of pool heading straight for us. Laughing at their enthusiasm, Stephen steps forward to open the French doors and I feel Jake tense up as the two massive dogs fly straight past Stephen and towards us.

  Noticing their tails are wagging and they have huge doggie smiles on their faces, I push away from Jake to greet them. They run straight to me, slipping and sliding on the tiles as they come. Sliding to a halt in front of me, they settle instantly as I reach out to give them both a gentle rub on the head.

  “Tango and Cash,” Stephen announces smiling at the two dogs. “My two best friends.”

  “They’re beautiful,” I comment as I continue to rub them both as they sit quietly in front of me. “You never said you had dogs.”

  “We’ve not yet had time to discuss simple matters Arianna,” Stephen looks remorseful. “Something that I’d hoped to rectify this weekend…” He continues before fading off as if he has changed his mind about saying something.

  Weird.

  “Where’s all the people?” Jake suddenly rumbles from beside me. “I expected the place to be busier.”

  “Scattered,” Stephen announces casually. “They know I want to spend some quiet time with Arianna so they’re giving us some privacy.”

  Twisting my head to look up at Jake I watch him relax a little. Nodding to Stephen he starts looking around the room and out towards the Harbor. “Nice.”

  “Thank you,” Stephen accepts the compliment quickly, “Come through, let’s sit outside. Enjoy the sunshine. I have sandwiches and fruit ready, I’m sure you’re hungry after your flight.”

  Reaching for my elbow, Jake draws me close to his side again as we move towards the outdoor area. The dogs now released from their welcoming duties trot outside and flop down near some potted plants.

  Guiding us to a padded outdoor setting that is already laden with food and drinks, Stephen points to some seats before settling into one of his own. Leaning back, looking relaxed in beige cotton pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he sighs. “I love this place.”

  “It’s a beautiful view,” I agree as I settle into a seat next to Jake. “A real time waster.”

  “It’s never a waste of time to enjoy beauty and the simple things in life,” Stephen murmurs looking out across the Harbor momentarily before pointing to the food and drinks on the table and saying, “Please, help yourselves.”

  “Business first,” Jake announces as he gives me a nudge and points towards my handbag.

  Flinging him an annoyed look I shake my head.

  It’s too early.

  “Give it to me,” Jake says softly, “No point delaying.”

  Looking across at Stephen I notice him watching us cautiously. The way Jake and I are acting, I’d be hearing alarm bells too. “He wants me to give you the DNA kit straight up,” I explain feeling embarrassed that our butts have barely hit our seats and Jake’s moved on to the main reason we’re here.

  A look of relief floods Stephen’s face and he grins. “No time for pleasantries then. I can deal with that far more easily than the image I suddenly had of you pulling a gun from your handbag and handing it to Jake to shoot me with.”

  Taken aback at his words, I knit my brows and blurt, “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly,” Stephen replies without hesitation. “The first time I met you, you shot me. The second time I saw you, there was an unbalanced woman running around with a kitchen knife. Not to mention the old guy wielding a fire extinguisher. Now you’re sitting on my patio looking uncomfortable with your large, angry looking biker boyfriend who clearly doesn’t trust me. I thought my life was fraught with excitement and danger but you my dear, attract it like a magnet. What did you expect me to think?”

  “Perhaps it’s genetic,” I mumble softly to myself as my eyes move to Jake. Scowling at him, I reach for my bag and pull out the DNA kit.

  “What’s genetic?” Stephen asks reaching his hand straight out to take it from me.

  “The attracting danger and mayhem thing. I was joking,” I add as I shrug my shoulders.

  Smiling, Stephen tears the kit open and pulls out one of the swabs. Not wasting any time, he sticks it straight in his mouth and scrubs. Sliding the other swab to me, I do the same. “There, done.” Stephen announces handing me his swab and the rest of the kit. “Now can we move onto more important matters.”

  More important matters?

  What could be more important than confirming you are my father? Patricia perhaps?

  “If I were gunna shoot someone, I’d shoot your sidekick,” Jake suddenly announces from beside me as he leans back in his chair. “He’s the one who shot me, I owe him one.”

  A grin forms on Stephens lips as he realizes Jake is trying to lighten the mood in his own way. “If everyone that Ritchie has popped a cap into were to hold that sentiment, he’d be Swiss cheese by now.”

  “Perhaps he needs to consider retraining his trigger finger then?” Jake chuckles a he reaches for a sandwich. Looking at the array in front of him, he eyes a wine bottle contemptuously before announcing, “Got beer?”

  Stephen nods and I kid you not, thirty seconds later a young man in a black suit miraculously appears on the patio with an opened bottle of boutique beer wrapped in a serviette. Handing it to Jake, Jake lifts his eyebrow ring at Stephen. Deftly unwrapping the beer, he flings the serviette on the table and takes a mouthful. “Good service.”

  Stephen nods at him before moving his attention back to me. Reaching for a bottle of red wine, he pours two glasses and pushes one towards me. “Please, eat. Drink some wine. Relax.”

  Realizing I am far more unsettled than I first thought, my stomach rolls at the thought of eating. I instead reach for the glass of wine. “This is weird,” I announce suddenly shifting my attention back to the Harbor and away from Stephen’s gaze.

  “I know,” Stephen murmurs quietly. “I can’t say this is how I saw our reunion going but alas it is what it is.”

  “What did you imagine,” I murmur not taking my eyes from the water.

  “Something a little more Dr. Phil,” Stephen chuckles. “Lots of hugging and tears of joy.”

  “We’d do Dr. Phil well,” I agree instantly. “He could talk you through the emotions of being shot by your daughter during our first moments together in nearly thirty years. Perfect.”

  Realizing I’ve just taken my first step toward recognizing Stephen as my father I pause. Shifting my eyes from the water and back to Stephen I see he has stopped too. He’s staring at me intently.

  “We should discuss our plans to move forward,” he murmurs. “There is much to consider.

  Taking a big mouthful of my wine I nod my agreeance.

  Why not?

  The whole conversation is like an enormous elephant at the table that needs to be dealt with.

  “You first,” I encourage him as I move my eyes to Jake to see him watching me carefully. He nods his agreement as he takes another mouthful of beer and we both return our attention to Stephen.

  Considering I’ve seemingly been losing sleep over this conversation, I suddenly find myself relaxing. There is a certain solace to be found when one reaches a point where they know they are about to make certain decisions that will shape what and who they are for the rest of their lives.

  Sighing, Stephen places his wineglass back on the table and leans back in his seat. Ru
bbing his face and suddenly looking tired and worn he starts the conversation. I watch as familiar cornflower blue eyes settle on mine before he announces, “I still cannot prove Elizabeth was involved. I also cannot prove she wasn’t.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask straight away placing my own glass on the table and giving Stephen my full attention.

  “It means we have a problem,” Jake explains from beside me and I turn to see he looks concerned.

  “It does,” Stephen agrees instantly.

  “Why does it matter?” I ask, clearly missing something that both men have already surmised.

  “It was a good thing you changed flights,” Stephen says directly to Jake ignoring my question.

  Jake nods slowly as his eyes move to mine. “Anton recommended it. Emma supported it. We flew under false names.”

  Smiling softly, Stephen’s face softens. “Worth his weight in gold that man. Keep him close.”

  “I’m starting to realize that,” Jake concedes and I suddenly find myself darting my eyes between the two men as I realize that they have come to some sort of truce within a matter of seconds. With barely a word said, they both seem to be on the same page and I’m suddenly an outsider without a clue what is going on.

  “Um, anyone…” I butt in. “Why does it matter?”

  “Unfortunately,” Stephen starts slowly and I can see that his words are weighing heavily, “if I can’t prove Elizabeth devised your disappearance as a child, I can’t make moves to disempower her. As such, she represents a serious threat to you if she discovers we have been re-united.”

  “Shit,” I murmur as realize what he’s saying. Even if he is my father, we may be better-off not publicizing it. “Which means pursuing Patricia is pointless.”

  “Not pointless, but I’m guessing you need more time to examine Patricia?” Jake cuts in, directing his question to Stephen.

  “I do,” Stephen announces looking unhappy at his admission. “I had hoped to resolve this all quickly but twenty-eight years of deceit is hard to unravel.”

  Moving his focus back to me he continues. “So far I’m exploring two different scenarios. The first, Elizabeth plotted this whole thing. If that’s the case, she would already know that you are missing from your Melbourne life and she may have her own investigators looking to find you. That’s if we assume she has a Plan Z for you that necessitates her keeping you alive, accessible but unaware of your importance to Bradford Industries. This being the case, you are likely better-off remaining unavailable to her so you don’t end up being used as some pawn in one of her future power plays.”

  Reaching for his drink, he takes a small sip, wetting his lips before setting his glass back down again. “The second scenario is somewhat more disturbing. It plays out that you were truly abducted off that beach by a random abductor. In this case, there is just as much chance that Elizabeth saw your face on the television at the same time that I did and she now sees you as a threat to be neutralized. If this is the case, she will also be searching for you and her motives would be far more deadly. If this is the case, you are best to remain hidden from her view.”

  You have to be shitting me.

  Leaning forward to drop my elbows on the table I resist the urge to scream.

  Is he serious?

  I’m no Rhodes Scholar but even I can read between the lines of his words. After going to all that effort to track me down he’s suggesting that he’s better-off not recognizing me as his daughter anyway? That knowing him presents yet another risk to my life and I’m better-off without him?

  It really is fucking relentless.

  Covering my face with my hands I mumble against my palms. “Dear God, can’t we just shoot the bitch and have done with it?”

  My words are met with silence.

  “If only it were that simple,” Stephen murmurs and I hear the sound of his glass tapping back down on the table again. Lifting my head from my hands I find Stephen and Jake staring at each conspiratorially.

  Pinning my eyes angrily on Stephen, I continue. “You fucking started this. Why didn’t you think of this shit before you came and wrestled your way into my life? Why couldn’t you have left me in blissful ignorance living life under the threat of just one idiot mobster? You clearly didn’t think this one out very well did you? No, you had to go and add another psycho woman to my list of known wannabe killers and give me something else to lose sleep over. What. The. Fuck. Tell me, is there any possible way I can just scrub you, Elizabeth and fucking Patricia out of my life so I can get on with my own?”

  I watch as Stephen and Jake exchange a look. Jake’s hand then moves to take one of mine and I feel his thumb rubbing slow circles over my palm. “Time to go,” he murmurs softly twisting his head to capture my eyes with his.

  “It’s time to fucking go alright,” I growl as I push my seat back and stand up. “Stephen, nice knowing you but stay the fuck away from me. I mean it in the nicest possible way.”

  “Arianna,” the word strangles from Stephen’s throat. “Please don’t leave like this. I was hopeful we could work around these… issues.”

  Slamming my hand down on the table I lean forward and with venomous tone snarl. “They’re more than fucking issues and you know it. Just by allowing me inside your house you’ve put me at risk. I’m not fucking stupid. I’m starting to realize the power of technology and the dangers of loose tongues, untrustworthy associates. By letting me get this close, by bringing me into your home, you deliberately put me at risk, why? Please enlighten me, I’d love to know.”

  “Because you’re my daughter and I love you,” Stephen responds, his voice deep and echoing pain. “I’ve searched for you for most of my life.”

  “Not my fucking problem. I don’t know you. I don’t remember you. All you’ve done is cause grief, pain and stress so far. Please do not continue to rub salt into the wounds of my life by trying to keep contact with me. Please forget I ever existed and get on with your own life. There is no need to meddle in my life a moment longer. Stay the fuck away.”

  And with that I’m done. Nodding to Jake, I turn and walk towards the French doors. Hearing a chair slide behind me, I realize that Jake’s not far behind me. Without looking back, I storm my way back through Stephen Bradford’s house and out to his garage. Making a beeline for the passenger side of our car, I snatch the door open and throw myself in.

  Seconds later Jake slides in beside me and I hear the car engine start. Vaguely aware that he’s staring at something, I look up to see Stephen standing in the doorway, his face solemn. His eyes look blank and lonely. Hearing the roller door lifting behind us, I close my eyes and throw myself back against the headrest of my seat as Jake backs us quickly out of the garage. Turning the car around, he rockets us straight through the open gates and onto the street. It’s not until we are at least five minutes away from Stephen Bradford’s house that I realize I’m crying.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Christmas Card List

  Arianna…

  “Why am I crying?” I grumble as I reach for my handbag and start scrounging inside for a tissue. Interestingly I don’t even feel like I’m crying. My eyes are running, but it’s like the tears are streaming out without all the emotion that normally goes with them.

  Weird.

  “It’s not like I care whether I see Stephen Bradford ever again. Sure he’s got a nice house, he appears to like dogs and the view from his patio is kickass but really?”

  “Adrenalin,” Jake explains as his concerned eyes fall on mine. “You fired up back there and your system’s taking the backlash now.

  “I did fire up didn’t I?” I smirk at him as I wipe the tears from my eyes and cheeks. “Fuck him is all I have to say. I’ve had it right up to here,” I announce angrily as I throw my hand over the top of my head. “Everybody wants something from me and I’m sick to death of it. With Stephen it seems he just wants his daughter back, which I can probably understand, but really? What sort of father would put his daughter at
such a risk unless he had a motive? I’ve decided I don’t trust him and he’s off my Christmas card list. Not that my list is very long anymore. Being a fugitive limits one’s list but I recently added Towball to it because he’s being nice enough to deal with Patricia for me. Although writing a Christmas card, ‘Dear Towball, thanks for your help gathering DNA this year’, is a bit sad. I think I’m going to need to find something else to thank him for.”

  Distracted by the thought of writing Christmas cards, it takes me a few moments to realize that Jake’s phone is ringing in his pocket. Reaching to lift it out, he looks at the screen before handing the phone to me. “It’s Zane. Take a message.”

  Not hesitating, I slide to accept the call and greet Zane straight up, “Hey Zane.”

  “Arianna?” I hear Zane’s now familiar voice rumble into my ear sounding slightly confused. I doubt he’s used to Jake letting anyone answer his phone.

  “Jake’s driving, we’re in Sydney,” I explain.

  “What you doing there?” Zane asks sounding genuinely interested. For some reason I’d automatically assumed he would know where we were and what we’ve been doing.

  “Visiting Stephen,” I explain. “Which didn’t go so well and something I don’t plan doing ever again.”

  “Right,” Zane responds slowly. “You okay with that?”

  “Yep,” I respond as the car slows so Jake can pull into the valet parking area of a hotel. “You want me to pass a message onto Jake?”

  “Yeah,” his voice rumbles against the handset again. “Tell him I’m walkabout for a few weeks. Got something I need to do.”

  Barely managing to get the word, “Okay,” out of my mouth, Zane finishes with a quick, “Thanks,” and then he hangs up.

  Staring at the phone for a moment, I wonder what Zane means by walkabout but assume Jake will know. “Zane says he’s walkabout for a few weeks. He’s got something he needs to do.”

  “Or someone,” Jake chuckles. “Situation normal. That’s code for don’t bother ringing him, he’s off the air. He’ll be holed up with a new love interest somewhere.”