Under Cover Of Dark

by Juanita Kees

  * * *

  Lily’s phone vibrated against her hip. Sleepily, she pulled it from inside her pocket and cracked open an eye to read the text.

  I know where you are. They had a nasty fire there not so long ago. It can happen again.

  The last remnants of sleep vanished as Lily sat up. Panic gripped her throat. Where was Mark? She felt the seat next to her. The cushions were cold. She stared at the message. Should she answer it? Her finger hovered over the red delete bar. No, it was evidence of harassment. She pressed the home button instead and the screen returned to the wallpapered applications.

  The sound of Mark’s voice reached her ears and she followed it to the front door of the cabin.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be there in the morning…Yes, first thing…Why can’t you get your own coffee? Make sure you’re ready to go with those notes…Stop nagging, you sound like my mother.’ He paused and chuckled. ‘Whatever, big guy.’

  Lily leaned against the door frame and folded her arms tightly against her churning stomach. She watched Mark snap his phone shut and push it into his pocket. Hers vibrated again and she pulled it out. The buzzing sound alerted Mark she was there. He turned to face her as she read.

  Got txt frm N.

  Luke’s message chilled her to the bone. Nic Albero’s mind games were never subtle and always deadly. Me 2, she replied.

  DM there with u?

  Yes. Relief that Mark was still there eased some of the chill. No matter how angry he was they’d hid evidence from him, justice seemed less scary than the threat of Albero’s rage.

  Good. Worried. All ok?

  She looked up at Mark. His features were tight, his lips unsmiling. We’ll b ok. Fwd N’s txt 2 me.

  Yer K. Luv u.

  Lily’s hand shook as she texted, luv u 2 xx

  ‘Lily?’ Mark’s voice reached her.

  Tears burned behind her eyes and threatened to spill over. ‘He never says that anymore.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Luke. It’s the first time in years he’s told me he loves me.’ The phone buzzed again.

  She looked at the screen and let the tears fall.

  Have snow 4 u. cum n get it. SS sez freebie. 4 ur help with Tiny.

  Her heart plummeted. The bastard was deliberately baiting them, making sure they knew he could easily name Luke if they dobbed. What did it matter anymore? There was no way they’d get out of this mess.

  Mark stepped closer. She took one last look at the message and handed the phone over. His warm fingers brushed hers as he took it and read the message. She stepped back, stood straight and focused on the soothing sounds of the night.

  Mark dropped his hand to his side. ‘I won’t let him hurt you or Luke, Lily.’ He searched her face as she refused to meet his eyes. ‘He’s panicking now. That’s when he’ll make mistakes.’

  ‘Text threats are like video evidence. They don’t always stand up in court.’

  ‘It’s my job to make sure they do. Try to get some sleep. It’s been a rough day.’

  Lily nodded. ‘I’ll try.’ I hate that I sound so weak, so needy, so —

  ‘It’s okay to be scared. Perhaps you should stay up at the main house tonight? Sarge and I will walk you over.’

  Chapter 6

  Lily awoke to the sound of the birds, sunlight peeking through the slats in the blinds. Eyes gritty with lack of sleep, she lay a moment absorbing the peacefulness of early morning. The fear that had gripped her during the night had abated somewhat and acceptance had taken its place. Their future was in the hands of the only man she could trust — the man who held the key to their prison cell.

  Enough drama! Lily tossed the sheets aside and edged off the soft mattress. She listened for a moment for sounds of movement around the house, but it seemed everyone was still asleep. Lily tugged on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, and padded across the carpeted floor. After a quick pit stop in the bathroom, she slipped quietly into the kitchen.

  The morning mist swirled above the hill tops and away towards the sun as Lily looked out the kitchen window. Her gaze caught on a lone chimney stack to the left of the four guest cabins. The sun warmed the weathered stones of the chimney and fell on the fire-blackened soil around it. Curious, Lily unlocked the back door and stepped out onto the veranda. She slipped her feet into the running shoes she’d left at the door the night before.

  Slowly making her way up the hill, she took a moment to absorb her surroundings. Nic had mentioned a fire in his text. The scars from it still marred the ground. New grass sprouted enthusiastically from the black soil. Here and there, colourful crocuses grew stark against the hill and around the base of the ruined chimney.

  Just like my life, Lily thought. Hope springs eternal. Was it a sign, a hint from Mother Nature that things would get better? She bent to pluck a bright orange crocus from the ground and tucked it behind her ear. Lifting her face to the sun, she breathed in the clear, fresh air and let the warm rays stroke her cheeks. Beautiful. The heaviness in her heart lifted a little and her fear for the future receded with the mist, even though she knew it would return at nightfall. With a smile on her lips, she hugged her arms close to her chest and opened her eyes.

  Next to the old chimney stack sat a cement ornament of an old Holden ute. In the misshapen tray-back, a pot filled with a pretty blue flowering plant languished lazily. Lily kneeled for a closer look. Carved into the cement was a message: For Tiny, you earned your wings too soon.

  ‘It’s Lobelia Tenuior or “Blue Wings”.’ Lily jumped at the sound of TJ’s voice. ‘Gosh, sorry Lily, I didn’t mean to scare you. Here, I brought you a coffee.’

  Lily stood and wrapped her hands around the mug TJ handed her. ‘Thanks. For everything.’

  TJ shrugged. ‘That’s the whole point of building the refuge. It’s not just for the kids, it’s for everyone to make a fresh start. Even Marty’s mum comes up on weekends these days. It took time to convince her, but when she realised Marty was serious about going straight, she thought it would be best if she contributed too. She cleans the cabins, does the laundry, and is teaching the girls from the local high school quilting. Soon each cabin will have a handmade quilt. Quite homely, don’t you think?’

  Lily smiled. ‘It sounds lovely. Was there a garden here before the fire? It seems like such a peaceful place.’

  ‘No. It was pretty wild up here. Long grass, random and gnarled old plants from a long ago garden when there was a cottage around this fireplace.’ TJ rubbed a hand lovingly over the warmed bricks. ‘We’re planning to re-landscape the garden now that we have the cabins built but it’s a matter of finding the time and the labour.’

  ‘Did you have anything in particular in mind?’

  TJ shrugged again. ‘I guess. I’m waiting for inspiration to strike.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘I don’t suppose you know anything about landscaping, do you?’

  Lily laughed, a hollow sound in the early morning air. ‘I have no idea. Gino hired a gardener to do ours.’ Tears pricked and she pushed them back. ‘He hired a lot of people to do his dirty work.’ Realising, what she’d let slip past her lips, she quickly swallowed a slug of her coffee.

  ‘It’s okay, Lily. You can trust me. Scott and I are here to help you. Sometimes it helps to just talk it out.’

  Lily sighed. She’d bundled up the feelings for so long. It was hard to voice what she thought. ‘I spent the last fifteen years wishing he was dead. Now he is. I don’t feel an ounce of remorse, only…relief. What sort of a person does that make me?’

  In the distance, Sarge’s bark mingled excitedly with shouts from the boys. Scott’s deeper baritone rang out and upped the noise level. The household was awake, yet the peace remained, unshattered. TJ lifted the mug from Lily’s nerveless fingers and placed both on the ledge of the old fireplace. Wordlessly, she drew her into a hug. Lily had to lean down a little into it with the difference of a few inches. What TJ lacked in height, she made up for in warmth and for the first time Lily could remember in a long while, it
felt good to be hugged. Besides last night, when Mark had held her. That had felt like coming home. Far too comfortable, far too…right.

  ‘No-one deserves what you went through. It takes time to convince yourself of that,’ TJ said, releasing her. ‘You are not the guilty one. Gino made his choices and it lost him a beautiful family. It’s your turn at happiness now, Lily. Mark will make sure Tiny’s killers are caught. He won’t rest until he takes them and their drugs off the streets. Luke and Marty have a chance at a new life, and so do the other children we’re able to help. We’re making a difference, one child at a time.’

  ‘You make it sound so…possible.’

  TJ held Lily’s hands in hers, warmth and comfort in the touch. ‘It is. I won’t stop trying and you shouldn’t either. One thing I can promise you is that you can trust Mark. We go back a long way. I’ve seen him in action more than once, with the boys and their troubles, with Scott and Serena’s messy business. Mark has a sister. You might know her name. Peta Johnson was a star born out of the Golden Diva nightclub in Northbridge.’ At Lily’s nod, she continued, ‘One day when we have more time I’ll tell you about how he tracked down her daughter’s kidnapper. Paul Price would have killed them both if Mark hadn’t been so determined to put him away.’

  ‘Oi! You two coming down for breakfast sometime this morning?’ Scott yelled from the veranda.

  TJ let go of Lily’s hands. ‘Only if you’re cooking it!’ She turned and yelled. She turned back to Lily and held out her hand. ‘Talk to the man, trust him. Trust us. What do you say? Will you let us help you find your feet again?’

  Lily looked at TJ’s slender hand. Small hands, neat nails, palms with calloused ridges, a firm yet comforting grip. ‘I’ll do my best to.’ She slipped her hand into TJ’s with a smile.

  Breakfast was a noisy affair. As Lily stacked the dishwasher, she realised she hadn’t laughed so hard in…well…ever. Scott’s parents, Rose and Bill, had wandered over from their property close by, sometime during the pancake tossing competition. With Sarge happily wolfing down the spoils, Bill was declared the champ. He got to wear the foreman’s cap and call the shots for the day. Gleefully, he marched the boys up the path to the shed where they were restoring TJ’s Holden Gemini, Sheila. The girls breathed a sigh of relief as blissful peace descended on the kitchen.

  ‘Goodness me!’ said Rose, sinking into the chair as soon as the last of the dishes were cleared away. ‘I think Scott might have to make the kitchen a little bigger, love. We’re going to need more space soon.’

  ‘Yes, we’ve had plans drawn up to extend the dining area and combine it into the kitchen. We’re going to install a catering kitchen too. With a few more volunteers on board now, we’ll be able to cater for meals.’ TJ wiped the table and turned to rinse the cloth off under the tap. ‘The idea is to have it run by volunteers and the residents during the week to free Scott and me up to manage the workshop rehabilitation program.’

  ‘Landscaping, catering, sewing classes — sounds like you need a program coordinator, TJ,’ said Lily, popping a dishwasher tablet into the holder and closing the door.

  ‘Ha! You be careful making suggestions, love,’ Rose chipped in, ‘or before you know you it, you’ll be roped in and volunteering.’

  Laughing, Lily replied, ‘It’s not like I have anything else to do. Although I do have a mind to have a go at the garden design.’

  ‘Don’t let us stop you. Bill has a potting shed you can raid for tools, if you like?’

  ‘I might do that.’ Lily smiled. Excitement flowed through her at the thought of a challenge, even one as simple as creating a garden. Plants meant new life and that’s what she needed. Hope for a new life and the challenge of establishing one.

  * * *

  Lily at nineteen, dressed in an ivory satin and lace wedding dress, dreamy-eyed and naïve as she posed for the photo with her groom, Gino Bennetti. Anger stabbed at his gut as Mark studied the photo he’d found folded into the pages of Luke’s diary. Hair like spun gold flowed over her narrow shoulders and down to her slender waist. Clear, milky skin and innocent blue eyes, a beautiful young girl far removed from the battered widow he knew. His heart ached for her. Perhaps because she reminded him of his sister, Peta, who’d been through the same hell before finding the love of her life, Jaime again. Now happily married, pampered and pregnant, they lived comfortably in Perth’s suburbs with their ten-year-old daughter, Bella. Mark sighed as he traced Lily’s beautiful face with his forefinger. She deserved a second chance too.

  Lily had reached in and touched his heart at a level that went far beyond the call of duty though, and that was dangerous. The tug he felt when she was near, the need to fold her into his arms, pick her up, carry her away and adore every inch of her body the way she deserved. To watch her come to life under his hands and to taste those sweet, bow-shaped lips, feel the slide of her silky skin against his…

  ‘Hey, Lover Boy! Are we going to solve this case or are you planning on wasting time daydreaming?’ Mark’s head jerked up and he found Harold studying him with narrowed eyes. ‘You can’t afford to get soft on the widow. You’ll get pulled from the case.’

  ‘No shit, Sherlock,’ he grumbled. ‘Can’t get soft on the widow, huh? Is that why you’ve arranged for your lovely missus to pop in to the refuge and buddy up?’

  Harold shrugged. ‘I figured she could use a friend. A bit different to the thoughts you were having just then.’

  ‘So you’re a mind reader too now?’

  ‘Didn’t have to be. I could smell the testosterone levels rising from here.’

  Mark shook his head and smiled wryly. It wouldn’t surprise him if Harold had. The man had a nose like a bloodhound and his body’s reaction to his thoughts was perfectly normal after all. The last thing he wanted to do was compromise this case or Lily and Luke’s freedom. He willed his mind to concentrate on the task at hand.

  ‘Find anything interesting in Tiny’s diary, Harold?’

  ‘The kid liked to draw pictures. Good at it too. The graffiti analysts are looking at it now. We should have a full report by the end of the week. Anything interesting in Luke’s?’

  ‘A couple of pictures for the analysts but not as heavy as Tiny’s. Luke’s seems more personal. I’m guessing the drawings are where the clues are.’

  ‘And the fact that the widow and the kid withheld crucial evidence in a murder investigation?’

  ‘Luke is up on charges for his father’s death, not Tiny’s. So the evidence they withheld impacts Tiny’s case not Luke’s. The chief reckons it’s not uncommon for the defence or prosecution to fail to turn over evidence that might cast doubt on guilt. In this case, because it was domestic violence, there’ll be leniency towards protection of a minor. According to Giles Pritchard, the defence could argue that Luke was as much a victim as Tiny was. We just need a breakthrough. Something that will pin this squarely on Albero, Bennetti and Snow.’

  ‘Serena Snow is the quiet one. I’m wondering if she’s the kingpin.’

  ‘We’d still have to prove it.’

  ‘Should we see how much the boy and his mum will tell us without a lawyer present?’ Harold suggested after a moment.

  ‘If they know they’re not in danger of arrest, I think they’ll cooperate. Lily is slowly starting to talk. It’s a trust issue but I’m working on it.’

  Mark stood and stretched. He’d hunched over Luke’s diary all night. His conversation this morning with the chief prison officer had confirmed his suspicions that it wasn’t uncommon at all for gang members to conceal secret messages in notebooks. It was common knowledge that tags and wall art all contained subliminal messages. Tattoos too, he thought, like the one on his left bicep.

  Everything had a reason or an explanation — like the connection between Gino Bennetti, Nic Albero and other prominent gangland members he’d managed to link them to, all connected in pecking order with red string on his corkboard. Piece by piece, the puzzle was forming a picture he wasn’t sure h
e liked.

  His gaze drifted to the whiteboard where he’d attached a blown-up picture of the hangman Tiny had drawn on the cover of his notebook. So many secrets, so many victims — far too much crime for a group of teenagers to have experienced. And then there was Lily…

  ‘Oh for fucks sake, Romeo,’ growled Harold. ‘You’ve got that dumb-arse dreamy look in your eyes again. Let’s drag your horny arse up the mountain and get this over with. Might have to set you up with Jeannie’s mother to get you out on a date with a real woman.’

  Mark chuckled. Jeannie’s mother was ninety in the shade and never passed up the opportunity to pinch his backside. ‘I’d marry Olive tomorrow if she’d have me.’

  * * *

  Lily slopped on sunscreen and slapped on a hat before making her way up to the proposed garden with a garden fork in one hand and a basketful of tools in the other. Bill had happily helped her raid his potting shed with the promise of offloading seedlings and mulch later that afternoon.

  ‘Where to start, Sarge?’ she asked the dog, who’d followed her up the path. He frowned and padded off to sniff the ground. ‘Thanks for the help,’ she said when he flopped down in the sand in front of the old chimney and closed his eyes.

  Lily looked around, allowing her imagination to take control. After a while, she pulled out a sketch pad and coloured pencils from the basket and began to put her ideas to paper. Half an hour later, she leaned against the warm stone of the chimney and patted Sarge’s sleepy head. ‘What do you think?’

  The dog lazily opened one eye and grumbled. Lily laughed. She’d laughed a lot in the last day and a half, she realised. That deep ache in her heart, that emptiness was slowly starting to subside. For the first time in twenty years, she felt a little safer, despite the shadows that still hung over their heads. Here in the garden she could heal, forget for a moment what tomorrow might bring as she turned the soil and brought new life to this forgotten space.

  She had complete faith in Mark to solve the case and put Albero in prison for good. He still had her phone. Had any more messages come through? He’d taken Luke’s phone last night too. The more evidence they had the stronger the case against Albero would be. She didn’t need the damn thing anyway.