by Shirley Wine
Dwyer also sat forward in his seat. ‘He told you this?’
Rio nodded. ‘He did.’
‘The hell you say,’ Luke muttered, raking a hand through his hair.
‘He was in a blue funk when you were interviewing Rose.’ Rio gave Dwyer a level look. ‘Luke and Brooke were both busy, so the kid came looking for me.’
‘Why would he tell you something like this and not mention it to his uncle or to me?’ Dwyer asked sharply.
Rio gave a gusty sigh. ‘You got any kids, officer?’
‘No. What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘The kid overheard his grandpa telling his dad that he’d see him dead first,’ Rio said slowly as if he was explaining something to a simpleton, ‘and a short while later his dad is dead and his mother dies days afterwards.’
‘And by telling us now—’ Luke broke off shaking his head, a red tide of rage surging through his body. ‘There’s no way that bastard is getting anywhere near those two kids.’
‘You’re surely not suggesting that Duncan McLellan would harm his grandchildren?’ Dwyer gave Rio a horrified look.
‘Why not? It’s not as if he hasn’t already tried.’
‘That’s one huge leap to make,’ Dwyer said, shaking his head.
‘Is it?’ Rio raised his eyebrows until they almost reached his grizzled hair. ‘It’s looks to me like he’s already tried to kill that whole family, and now he’s panicking because those two kids survived.’
‘Especially now that Rose and Otto are revealing some damning memories,’ Luke said slowly.
‘Bingo.’ Rio gave Luke a feral grin. ‘Not only did they survive, they’re living with you. And McLellan knows full well that you’re ready and willing to nail his miserable arse to the wall.’
Luke looked at Rio with grudging respect.
You’re too close to this, Luke, how can you be objective … Brooke’s words echoed; her uncanny accuracy had him spooked.
Luke’s anger and disgust grew. How could he have guessed what was weighing on the kids’ minds? To be afraid of their grandparents …
‘Wait a minute, you two,’ Dwyer said, breaking into Luke’s black thoughts. ‘There’s no point leaping to conclusions that could well prove to be wrong.’
Luke turned on Dwyer.
‘The crash that killed my sister and her husband was deliberate.’ He punched a fist into his other palm. ‘You want me to keep my nose out of this?’
Dwyer nodded.
‘Then get your arse into gear and find out who the hell ran my sister’s car off the road and what connection that driver has to Duncan McLellan.’ Luke’s fist crashed into his palm once again.
Rio looked at Luke, nodded and left the room. The tense silence he left in his wake was thick enough to cut with a knife.
‘Now look here, Mr Calloway—’
‘No! You listen to me—’ Luke broke off as Brooke appeared in the doorway.
‘Is everything okay here?’ she asked glancing from his face to Dwyer’s.
With considerable effort, Luke tamped down his anger, but before he could say anything Dwyer cut him off.
‘This is a private interview, Ms Galbraith. Badge bunnies aren’t welcome.’
Rich colour flooded up Brooke’s neck and face; her dark eyes flashed fire in the shocked moment before she turned on her heel and left.
Badge bunny! Is Brooke really one of those women who get their thrills chasing any cop in a uniform?
Every tender instinct Luke possessed revolted. He glared at the detective. ‘Where do you get off being so bloody rude to a guest in my house?’
Dwyer gave him a pitying look and leaned back in his chair. Something about his smile made the hairs on Luke’s arms stand to attention.
‘I thought you’d have learned not to trust a badge bunny after that affair with the fair Olivia.’ Dwyer leaned across and took a mug of coffee from the tray. He leaned back in his chair sipping it with an air of unconcern.
Olivia Masters?
Luke cringed with embarrassment as the memory of his youthful, gung-ho greenness rose up to haunt him. Brooke is nothing like Olivia.
The knowledge hit Luke like a blow from a sledge hammer.
He’d seen the miracle Brooke had worked with Rose and Otto. He knew she would not deliberately hurt anyone and, in a blinding flash of insight, he knew that Brooke did not know Thornton was married. The woman Luke had come to know and love would never have had anything to do with a married man.
What does Dwyer think he knows about my involvement with Olivia, or that whole fiasco?
Luke longed to wipe the smirk off the other man’s face. In a soft, dangerous voice, he said, ‘I think you need to explain that remark.’
A flush bloomed in Dwyer’s face.
The jerk isn’t slow on the uptake.
‘Everyone in the precinct knows you fell for a mark’s pretty face,’ Dwyer blustered. ‘And between the Galbraith sheila and that Masters dame there’s not one jot of difference.’
‘Isn’t there?’ Luke’s voice dropped a register.
How dare this cretin compare Brooke to a gang moll, one who with cold, calculated cunning had set Luke up to be murdered. A lick of shame flushed through Luke as he remembered comparing Brooke to Olivia. Now, hearing another man express the same thoughts, Luke was roused to white-hot fury.
Without Brooke, he could well have lost Rose.
That both children were now well on the way to recovery, and learning to laugh again, was almost entirely due to Brooke’s dedication and her calming influence. Sure she held her secrets close to her chest, but on reflection, Luke considered she may well have good reason.
‘Now look here, Mr Calloway—’
Luke stood up, towering over the other man.
‘Listen to me, and listen well, Detective. Olivia Masters was a gang moll, nothing more and nothing less,’ Luke said, his tone chilling. ‘Whereas Brooke Galbraith is a dedicated professional who has worked miracles with two traumatised, badly injured children.’
Dwyer stiffened and put his coffee mug back on the tray before rising to face Luke. ‘Maybe she is, but I helped investigate Thornton’s suicide, Calloway, so don’t try telling me that Brooke Galbraith wasn’t involved in that mess, right up to her pretty neck.’
‘She was cleared of any involvement in Thornton’s schemes,’ Luke said through clenched teeth.
‘You know as well as I do that lack of evidence does not mean innocence. Now it appears she’s got her hooks into you.’ Dwyer smirked, a gloating grin that labelled Luke a poor schmuck. ‘Once a badge bunny, always a badge bunny.’
‘What makes you so sure of this?’
‘I was into her before you, man,’ Dwyer said with a sneer.
Red hazed Luke’s vision. He inhaled a rough breath and, spine ram-rod stiff, he stood, the hands at his sides flexing and unflexing into white-knuckled fists. The desire to grab the other man and shove the words back down his throat was overpowering. Only iron discipline stilled the impulse. He would not give the jerk that satisfaction.
‘You. Are. A. Fucking. Liar!’
Dwyer flushed crimson and backed up a few steps, his suddenly nervous gaze darting everywhere but at Luke.
‘We are done here.’ Motionless, Luke watched the other man through narrowed eyes, fisted hands at his sides.
Dwyer grabbed his bag and recorder with indecent haste, ready to beat hasty a retreat.
Luke wasn’t about to let him go that easily. ‘Dwyer?’
The detective paused in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched.
‘If it ever gets back to me that you’ve said one word about Ms Galbraith,’ Luke said, his voice low, quiet and deadly, ‘make no mistake, I’ll have your arse in a sling. Understand?’
The threat set fear flickering in Dwyer’s eyes. ‘Sure.’
‘Then you’d better make sure to keep your mouth shut.’
The man scuttled
down the hallway and out the front door.
Luke followed.
He stood on the verandah, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his jeans, and watched as the cop drove away. The dust Dwyer’s car left in its wake was as stirred up as Luke’s thoughts.
Chapter Seventeen
Brooke stood in the shadows of the hallway watching Luke. Every line of his body oozed tension. The way he stood and watched the detective drive away made her more than a little antsy. She nibbled on her lower lip. What had gone down between the two men?
Had Dwyer stirred up trouble?
Of course he has. That’s what he does.
Jackson Dwyer could no more resist making trouble than he could stop breathing. Should she approach Luke or should she wait? She hesitated.
The decision was taken out of her hands.
Luke turned and strode into the house. He saw her standing in the hallway and came to an abrupt halt. He looked at her, his expression as black as the clouds in the sky. A low, long grumble of thunder rumbled overhead, its boom echoing on the hot, humid air.
‘He’s gone?’ She winced: talk about stating the obvious.
‘Yes.’ Luke stood looking down at her. ‘What’s with you and Dwyer?’
Luke’s no fool, he’ll take his cue from you …
With painful clarity, Brooke understood her dad’s meaning and knew what Luke was asking.
‘It’s a long story.’ She lifted her chin and looked directly into his eyes.
‘I have the rest of the afternoon.’
The implication was clear.
He walked along the hallway and stopped by his open office door, his dark brows raised in question.
Hold your head up, you’ve done nothing wrong.
With a soft sigh, she walked past Luke and into his office. Her quick glance took in the tray and the untouched coffee. Her apprehension spiked.
‘Take a seat.’ Luke picked up the coffee tray, walked to the door and bellowed, ‘Rio.’
The housekeeper’s speedy appearance confirmed Brooke’s suspicion that the man had kept a close eye on proceedings. One glance at Luke and she knew that he too had noticed.
‘You want fresh coffee, boss?’
Boss? There was no inflection on the word, but Brooke sensed a new and troubling constraint between the two men. What had caused this?
‘No, but some water wouldn’t go amiss.’ Luke was too quiet, too controlled.
Goosebumps shivered up and down Brooke’s spine.
Rio took the tray from Luke. And Brooke knew that Rio’s swift, veiled scrutiny missed nothing. Rio left and silence settled. The tension in the air added to the brooding atmosphere. The storm indoors was gathering momentum, keeping pace with the one outdoors.
Desperate to ease the tension, Brooke opened her mouth.
Luke held up an imperative hand.
She sank back in the chair, her lips thinning to a mutinous line.
Luke ignored her as he waited by the door to take the tray from Rio. Once he had it, he shoved the door shut with his foot, put the tray on his desk and turned to her. ‘Water?’
‘Please.’
Ice rattled as Luke filled two glasses and handed one to her. He sat in the leather chair opposite. Lifting the glass, he downed the water in a few swallows before pouring himself a second glass.
Brooke sipped, grateful, when the icy water eased the arid dryness in her throat.
‘Did something bad go down?’ she asked hesitantly, unsure of Luke in this mood.
‘You could say that.’ He leaned back in his chair, his brooding gaze never leaving her face.
‘With Otto?’
‘Yeah.’ Luke lifted a hand and rubbed it across his face. ‘Seems on the night of the accident he overheard Ian and Duncan arguing.’
‘He listened?’
‘He’s a kid. What do you think?’ Luke gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Of course he crept along the corridor to listen. What kid hasn’t eavesdropped?’
‘I’ve done it a time or two,’ Brooke admitted with a wry grimace.
‘Me too, and long after I knew a darn sight better.’
‘So what did Otto overhear that’s got you worried?’
‘He didn’t hear the details, but he heard Ian telling Duncan he was duty bound to report whatever caused that argument—’ Luke stopped and shrugged.
‘And?’
‘Otto heard Duncan tell his dad that he would see Ian dead first.’
Brooke gasped. ‘And a short while later—’ She broke off, unwilling to put the horrifying thought into words.
‘Precisely.’ Luke closed his eyes and gripped the back of his neck.
‘So what happens now?’ she asked, her voice hushed.
‘We make damn sure that Duncan and Margaret do not get close to Otto or Rose.’
Bile stung the back of her throat; swallowing hard, she lifted her hand and let it fall. ‘You don’t think—’
‘I don’t know what the hell to think!’ Luke leaped to his feet and paced before turning to her, his expression ferocious. ‘What I do know is that Otto is frightened that he and his sister may end up dead too.’
A sensation of sick helplessness invaded Brooke as she watched him pace. I asked Matt to send Ian’s parents that invitation. What have I done?
Luke flung himself back down in the chair, leaned back and closed his eyes.
‘What was the detective’s take on all of this?’ she asked in an attempt to defuse the tension. Luke opened his eyes. His steady regard scrambled her pulse. Ever so slowly he straightened and leaned forward in his chair. ‘Dwyer refused to talk about what is an ongoing investigation.’
‘And this worries you?’
‘It does and it doesn’t.’
Brooke wondered what she was meant to take from that cryptic comment. There was only one sure way to find out. ‘Meaning?’
‘Cops don’t discuss an ongoing case outside the investigating unit,’ he said quietly, ‘until they are sure of their facts and are ready to brief the family and press. I understand this so Dwyer’s reticence doesn’t unduly trouble me, but not knowing where, or what avenue their investigation is taking, drives me crazy.’
She nodded; this made sense. ‘So when will you know anything?’
‘How long is a piece of string?’
She lifted a hand to acknowledge the pointlessness of her question: he knew as little as she did.
‘What I would like to know,’ he said, his intense gaze trained on her face, ‘is what’s with you and Dwyer?’
Brooke inhaled slowly and deeply as she looked into his vivid blue eyes; eyes that she was sure missed nothing. How could she explain?
‘I’m neither a fool, nor am I slow. It’s obvious that you and Dwyer share a history.’
She gave a nervous laugh. ‘We do.’
‘The thing is Brooke, I’m really learning to care for you, but I know you’re keeping secrets. You keep me at arm’s length. If I can’t get past these barriers and get to know you, how do I know if I can trust you?’
Brooke swallowed hard. Unsure what to expect, she knew this wasn’t even close.
Her hand tightened convulsively on the glass she held until it was in danger of breaking. Luke had no idea what he was asking. Her heart beat in a panicked rhythm, sending blood coursing through her body. She moistened dry lips with the tip of her tongue. She detected nothing but sincerity in his manner.
Luke waited a few heartbeats before he continued. ‘I need you to be honest with me. No more secrets.’
A massive peal of thunder split the skies directly above the homestead. Brooke started, but Luke didn’t flinch. Was that a sign of heavenly intervention? If so, it was timely. She looked directly into Luke’s eyes. ‘What did Dwyer tell you?’
‘Enough.’
The clipped response did little to ease her wariness.
She looked down at the hand holding the glass, no longer able to meet his steady gaze. No matter what she did, what she said, sh
e was afraid she’d lose his respect, and his affection. The foolish dreams she’d begun to weave were about to come crashing down around her feet.
‘I’m certain that whatever Jackson Dwyer told you, it won’t be the truth,’ she said softly but bitterly as she traced a finger through the condensation on the outside of the glass.
‘Dwyer said he headed the investigation into Thornton’s suicide.’
‘He did.’ She laughed: a bitter little sound. ‘That at least is the truth, but I’ll bet he never said a word about his own twisted agenda.’
Luke leaned closer. ‘What twisted agenda?’
Brooke put her glass on a side table and looked directly at Luke. He met her searching gaze squarely, and to her relief she saw nothing except intense interest
Maybe it’s that no-one has ever actually listened to you …
Was Luke the one man, and an ex-cop at that, who was prepared to listen and not judge?
Luke doesn’t strike me as a fool—her dad’s words percolated through her feverish thoughts. Well, Dad, I sure as hell hope you’re right.
‘Brad told me once that the thing he feared most was the prospect of serving time.’ Brooke’s hands twisted in her lap; she was too aware of Luke’s unwavering attention.
‘Most cops have a similar fear of being penned in with criminals they’ve helped put away,’ Luke said quietly, ‘me included.’
She was startled by this totally unexpected admission. ‘I was under the impression you had nerves of steel.’
‘I’m as human as the next guy,’ he said on a bark of harsh laughter. ‘Think about it, Brooke. Cops put away some pretty unsavoury characters. Would you like to spend time incarcerated with murderers, gang members, rapists and the like?’
A shiver rattled her composure. The tough words underlined the vast differences in their lives. She had little doubt that Luke had seen and done things beyond her imagination. How would he react?
‘I’m almost sure Jackson Dwyer fabricated that suicide note that Brad supposedly left.’
Luke stiffened and his eyes widened. ‘The note that said that you’d driven him to take his own life?’
She nodded.
‘That’s one hell of a serious claim.’
‘Do you think I’m not aware of that?’ Bitterness leached into her voice again. ‘But who would take my word over that of a senior cop?’
