Falling In Love Again

by Marilyn Forsyth

  His features tightened and for a moment the foyer was enveloped in a frigid silence, but then he hoisted the case, laid it on its side on the desk and opened it for her. ‘Be my guest.’

  She examined the contents without needing to touch anything. It was a large suitcase but it was also patently clear that all it contained were Roger’s clothes and toiletries. Disappointment played havoc with any attempt at self-control; she dropped her head and closed her eyes in despair.

  ‘Told you.’ He smirked in that supercilious way that made her want to reach across and smack the expression from his face.

  A physical attack might relieve some of the pressure building inside, but it wouldn’t solve anything. Instead she voiced what she was thinking. ‘This is crazy. Who could have taken her? Who else even knows about her?’

  ‘I reckon your boyfriend’s hidden it away,’ Roger said, closing the suitcase and returning it to the white-tiled floor.

  She almost laughed out loud at the accusation. ‘Why on earth would Jamie do that?’

  ‘A good excuse to blame me and pick a fight. He’s been itching for it since I got here. Or, maybe,’ he held her gaze with his cool stare, ‘he intends to dismantle it without your knowledge and is using the disappearance,’ he gave quick air-quotes, ‘to cover it up so you don’t suspect him.’

  The dislike she could no longer conceal erupted in a stream of angry words. ‘Jamie would never do that to me! He’s honourable and trustworthy and he respects me. But that’s exactly the sort of deviant thinking I’d expect from you.’

  Roger straightened to his full height, his cheeks darkening in anger. ‘Careful, Gemma,’ he warned from between gritted teeth. ‘I still have ways of making your life miserable.’

  She knew that tone; she’d suffered his dangerously soft-spoken warnings and threats for more years than she cared to count, and suddenly she knew she wasn’t prepared to live in fear of him any longer. The desk between them at least gave some semblance of protection.

  ‘You can’t frighten me anymore.’ She ramped up the steel in her tone as a growing sense of freedom released like bubbles of champagne inside her. ‘You see, for you to continue to make my life miserable, I’d have to care what you think about me. And I don’t. I just ... don’t.’

  ‘Think you’re pretty tough, don’t you?’ he said with a small, tight smile, fists flat on the desk and leaning towards her.

  ‘I survived you and your cruelty. Our marriage left its scars but I’m taking back control of my life from here on in. If you want to fight for Drew through the court system, go ahead, but you’re not his real father and you won’t win. Nothing you say or do can hurt me now.’

  Roger eyed her with a mixture of intolerance and amusement. ‘Don’t forget, you’re legally still my wife.’ He pulled a paper from his pocket and dangled it in front of her face. The rescission form for the divorce order. ‘And I intend to keep it that way.’

  ‘It’ll never stand up in court, Roger. I put my name to it under duress.’ She stared at him, daring him to contradict her.

  His thin lips drew back in a sneer. ‘Are you sure it won’t? Your word against mine.’

  Even the slightest chance that he had a point was one possibility too many. The time to free herself of the hold he’d had over her had finally arrived. In one swift movement she pushed up from the chair, grabbed the paper from his hand and tore it into pieces.

  Roger’s face underwent a series of expressions, from a fast-fading smirk to stunned disbelief to barely contained fury.

  He made to move around the desk towards her but she warned him back; he’d only ever touched her in anger once but she wasn’t taking any risks. ‘Come anywhere near me and I’ll be taking out an AVO quicker than you can blink.’

  The quietly spoken threat surprised her as much as it did him. He stopped in his tracks, eyeing her warily. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Wouldn’t I? How do you think an apprehended violence order against you will sit with your boss?’ she continued, her newfound confidence amazing her. The words were harsh, but she had to ensure he understood just how serious she was.

  Chin belligerently high, hands balled into fists, Roger gave her a look of cold disdain. ‘Coltrane’s welcome to you and your brat.’ He picked up his suitcase and began wheeling it towards the door. ‘Get me that cab,’ he ordered without turning around.

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ she called after him, picking up the phone.

  With the call to the town’s one and only taxi completed, she sat down and fanned her face, flush with self-satisfaction. She’d been lost for too many years and it had taken a lot to find herself again, but today she’d rediscovered some of her true mettle. It felt like coming home after too long a time away.

  Chapter 21

  Time in the ICU passed with agonising slowness. They were just entering their second day at the hospital. The smell of disinfectant remained an assault on Jamie’s nostrils and the constant bleeping of the machines around them, monitoring the vital signs of Harry and two other patients, still set his teeth on edge.

  His father lay asleep on the bed, an assortment of wires and tubes radiating from various points on his body. He was propped high on the pillows, arms by his side on the white sheet, chest rising and falling steadily. The CAT scan as soon as they’d arrived at Broken Hill Hospital had confirmed that a blood clot lodged in an artery in the brain had caused the stroke, and a thrombolysis had been performed immediately. The clot-dissolving medicine had worked its magic but they’d been warned it might be a couple of days before Harry regained full consciousness.

  Lou picked up Harry’s hand and covered it with her own. ‘We’re past the real danger. Your dad’s blood pressure is equalised now, so try not to worry too much. When the swelling and inflammation around the damaged brain tissue settle down he’ll wake up.’ Though she looked pale, she sounded confident.

  Jamie stood and gazed down at his father. He’d always thought of Harry as strong, invincible actually, but now he noticed lines he’d never seen before etched deep into a forehead that seemed shrunken and frail. He’d witnessed his dad’s strength in so many ways over the years, but he’d never seen weakness before. It was terrifying.

  His mind churned with thoughts that were in turn frightening, discouraging, hopeful and then frustrated. Stretched to his emotional limit he sank back down onto the plastic chair, clasping his fists together in a kind of prayer. When he looked back up he saw every one of his own worries reflected in Lou’s careworn expression. All evidence of her customary practical way of handling any emergency had been washed away by tears that lingered in the rims of her hazel eyes, and the understanding that this woman loved Harry, maybe even as much as he did, struck with a rush of clarity.

  When did that happen?

  Obviously under his nose, but he’d been so wrapped up in his own bloody problems the realisation had slipped by—not exactly unnoticed, but more ignored. He closed his eyes against guilt. He’d been taking his father for granted for far too long.

  Lou lifted her deeply shadowed eyes from the figure on the bed to regard Jamie wearily. He searched for something comforting to say but the words wouldn’t come. He found himself standing, taking her by the shoulders and pulling her gently to him. She smelled of lavender and her body trembled beneath his hands as she laid her head against his chest.

  They stood for some minutes like that, each seeking comfort from the other, companions with a newly formed but iron-strong bond linking them. And gradually, the tension that had such a tight grip on Jamie’s body, and his heart, began to lessen.

  ‘Thank you, Lou. Harry and I are lucky to have you in our lives.’

  Lou smiled up at him, a genuine smile but one softened by weariness. ‘No. I’m the one who’s lucky to have you two.’

  Her hug turned fierce before she let him go. It was the kind of hug he had memories of his mother giving him whenever he’d been in need of one, a hug that made all sadness and hurt disappear, a hug that
made him feel ... loved.

  ‘Dad is gonna be all right, isn’t he?’ The plea for reassurance emerged before he could stop himself. ‘He has to be okay, for both of us.’

  ‘Of course he will be, love.’

  * * *

  The opal dealer arrived at the motel from the airport early next morning, the friendly older gentleman introducing himself as Nick Carmody.

  ‘I was expecting Jack Lloyd.’ Gemma pointed out the only name on the computer register.

  ‘Ah. I’m afraid I made a mistake in employing Mr Lloyd. I’ve been informed he failed to arrive for his appointments in Lightning Ridge yesterday. I’m still none the wiser as to where he is but he’s no longer with my company.’

  She couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Now they’d never know whether or not Lloydy had been Slade’s informant. Not that it really mattered anymore, now that Gracie had disappeared.

  They continued to chat while Gemma helped Nick set up a desk and chairs in his room in preparation for the valuations. It turned out Rainbow Cliffs had been part of Nick’s regular route before he’d retired from travelling to take over managing his shop, the Opal Cave, in Melbourne. He knew Harry and Jamie well and when she informed him about Harry’s crisis, he offered his commiserations.

  The man was a far cry from the unsympathetic wheeler-dealer she’d envisaged in her mind, her preconceived view coloured by her belief that no matter who the opal dealer was, he had to be a monster to agree to buy Gracie and seal her fate. When she brought up Gracie’s disappearance in the hollow hope that Nick might have some suggestion as to how to try and trace her, he seemed genuinely concerned.

  ‘I’m an opal dealer, yes, but I don’t like to see fossils like the one you describe being dismantled. They’re far too precious to destroy. But being realistic, any miner who comes here today to sell opalised bones will have pulled the skeleton apart already. There’s no point in bringing along bones that don’t contain opal.’

  She hadn’t wanted to think too much about Gracie having already been broken up into pieces, wasn’t ready to cope with that amount of misery on top of everything else that was happening.

  Her distress must have been obvious. ‘I can let you know if I see any evidence of your stolen fossil, if that will help,’ Nick offered.

  Attempting to cover her intense sorrow with a brief smile, she shook his hand and prepared to leave. ‘I’d appreciate that. Thank you.’

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t do any more for you than that. If a miner insists his finds have been dug from his own claim there’s no way I can dispute that.’ Nick eyed her sympathetically then lifted a finger in the air, as if something had just occurred to him. ‘Do you have a photo?’

  ‘I do.’ She fished one out of the top drawer and handed it over.

  ‘Thanks. Have you contacted the police yet?’

  Dammit! Why hadn’t she thought of letting the police know? ‘A lot’s been going on so no, not yet. Thanks for the suggestion. I’ll give them a call now.’

  No one answered at the police station so she left a message for Pete Krazinski, the local cop, asking him to come and see her at the motel as soon as possible regarding the theft of some opals. She didn’t want to give too much away; she’d explain the situation when he got there. All she could do was hope he wouldn’t be too long.

  Waiting was torture. To pass the time she made small talk with the steady procession of eclectic characters arriving at reception for their appointment with Nick. But the intermittent interactions still left her with too much time to dwell on the gut-wrenching grief that threatened to flatten her—a raw combination of despair regarding Gracie’s whereabouts, fear for Jamie’s state of mind with all that had gone down, and her own worry over Harry’s welfare. Lou had rung last night to let her know Harry hadn’t yet regained consciousness. Jamie hadn’t spoken to her, but that would have been because he was too caught up with concern for his dad.

  At least she hoped that’s all it was. That look he’d given her—the flash of doubt in his eyes when she’d denied any knowledge of Gracie’s disappearance—still stung. He’d tried to cover it, but a lot had been left unsaid in the painful silence at the time and the panic that had ensued later.

  Surely he didn’t still doubt her?

  Unwilling to follow that train of thought, she pushed aside her unease and instead attempted to puzzle through what might have happened to Gracie. The fossil had to be somewhere. Roger clearly didn’t have her. So, apart from Harry and Lou, who else here even knew of her existence?

  The only name that sprang to mind was Brett Slade. She’d seen him yesterday morning, doubled up in pain beside Roger’s writhing form and with Jamie standing over them both, just prior to Harry arriving on the scene. Who hit who, she had no idea; the rush following Harry’s collapse had eclipsed all other thought. Could Slade have betrayed Roger by stealing the skeleton from under his nose? Jamie certainly had no time for the man, and from what she’d seen of his interactions with Roger she wouldn’t put it past him.

  She glanced down at the list of appointments in front of her. Slade was due any time now. If her suspicions were correct, if that mongrel of a man had stolen Gracie, she had to come up with some way to stop him before he sold the fossil pieces to Nick. Yes, the opal dealer had promised to keep an eye out for opals that may have formed part of a skeleton originally, but all Slade had to do was say he’d dug them up on his own claim and nothing could be done without police intervention.

  Speaking of which, where the hell was Sergeant Krazinski? She couldn’t do anything until he arrived.

  Unless ...

  A gasp escaped as a knife-edge of exhilaration sliced through her. If Slade could be persuaded to leave the fossil pieces with her, she could take them direct to the police station and the sergeant would have the proof he needed to charge the guy with theft.

  All she had to do was come up with some way to trick Slade into handing the opals over.

  Just as a germ of an idea began to form, the phone’s shrill ring echoed in the silence of the foyer, startling her from her thoughts. It was Pete giving his apologies for the delay and informing her he’d be right over.

  As Gemma hung up the phone, the smell of sweat, musky and pungent, wafted over her. She turned her chair around and looked up. Brett Slade stood across the reception desk.

  ‘I’m here for me appointment.’

  He wore dirt-encrusted jeans with a tattered black t-shirt, toted a backpack in one hand and had a plastic bag filled with what looked like rubble in the other. The black vinyl backpack was inconspicuously small. A sharp pang of distress pierced her insides; if what was left of Gracie was in there, this guy had a helluva lot to answer for.

  The only saving grace was that if her plan worked they’d have most of the skeleton, and if the discarded bones could be located—Slade would surely have dumped them somewhere close to home—Jamie would be able to piece her together once again.

  For the first time since learning of Gracie’s disappearance, hopefulness and a sense of purpose stirred. The thought of what she needed to do set the butterflies inside dancing. Hand on her stomach, she pressed down the flutter and from somewhere found a smile.

  ‘Well, hello there,’ she said in as delighted a tone as she could muster. The flirty inflection surprised even her, but the interest that sparked in his eyes indicated she was off to a good start in winning his trust, an imperative if her hastily devised plan was to work. ‘I’m guessing you would’ve been glad to see the back of my ex after whatever happened this morning.’ Suspicion immediately tightened his features; she quickly regrouped and passed off the remark with a light laugh. ‘No more pleased than I was to see him go, let me tell you.’

  He deposited the backpack on the white-tiled floor and the plastic bag on the desk. ‘Yeah. Things didn’t end good between me and ’im.’

  ‘Oh?’ What had happened to their agreement? ‘I thought everything was on track for you to get your money for the information you gave Ro
ger about the skeleton.’

  His gaze grew cold before he lowered his eyes. ‘It was. Until that bastard did the dirty on me.’ When he looked up again, his expression was guarded. ‘So how come ya didn’t piss off with him when ’e left? I thought youse two were back together and thick as thieves.’

  ‘No, we were over a long time ago. Roger just had trouble accepting it.’ She paused to smooth off the sharp edge her voice had unexpectedly taken on. ‘He’s not a man to put your trust in.’

  Slade grunted and his thin lips peeled back in contempt. ‘Yeah, I found that out.’ He glanced around the foyer, then back at her. ‘Where’s Harry? What happened to ’im yesterday?’

  ‘He had a stroke. Jamie’s with him in hospital in Broken Hill.’

  ‘So, what, you back with Coltrane now?’

  Hands visibly trembling, she shoved them into her lap; her mouth suddenly felt dust dry. She needed Slade’s trust. He might doubt her motives if he thought she and Jamie were together again.

  His leer made her skin crawl but somehow she managed a smile. ‘It’s not as simple as that.’

  ‘But you’re here, lookin’ after the motel for ’im.’

  ‘Harry’s a friend. I’m happy to help out where I can.’

  ‘Right.’ He sounded dubious, looked set to question her further.

  She needed to distract him; she couldn’t have him suspicious of her intentions. Lying didn’t come easy but finding Gracie was what mattered here. Stomach lurching, she gestured him closer with a finger. ‘I just got a message to pass on to Mr Carmody.’

  Slade reared back in surprise. ‘What’s Carmody doing here? Where’s Lloydy?’

  ‘There was a problem. Apparently Mr Lloyd no longer works for the Opal Cave.’

  ‘What sort of problem?’

  She shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. All I do know, and I probably shouldn’t be telling you, is that Pete Krazinski’s on his way over with photos of stolen opals for Nick to be on the lookout for.’

  His eyes flashed to hers; she had his undivided attention. ‘And why would you think I’d be interested in knowin’ that?’