by Juanita Kees
Could Mark protect them from Albero’s threat? Lily looked around her at the devastation the fire had caused. Had he really done all this damage? Razed cabins in an environment where bush fires took hold too quickly and caused unimaginable devastation, putting people’s lives at risk — all to keep his illegal activities a secret. Is that what he’d meant by his reference to the fire last night? TJ had said it was arson and that it was still under investigation.
Lily grimaced as she pulled out weeds and cleared the area around the chimney. On her plans, she’d created a seating area around the fireplace. Maybe one of the boys could get in there and clear the growth and abandoned nests out of the chimney, open it up so that they could have an open fire during the wet season, when there were no fire bans. A gazebo built around it would provide protection against the elements, café blinds that could be dropped to keep out the rain and cold. A guard in front of the fire to keep any dangerous embers from escaping. A peaceful haven to tell stories, share experiences, have fun and heal.
The sun warmed her back and put colour in her cheeks as curious galahs poked around at the bugs and seeds she turned over out of the soil. Occasionally, a magpie would swoop at something shiny, a bottle cap or piece of foil. Geckos slithered up the stone wall of the chimney to bake in the sun. Lily’s head lifted at the roar of an engine coming up TJ’s steep driveway. Shading her eyes with a gloved hand, she saw it was Mark. Sarge sat to attention and barked.
Apprehension crawled up her spine. This was it, the moment she’d dreaded since she’d found Luke’s diary. The moment the truth would come out and change their lives again, just when they were finding a new path. ‘It’s okay, boy,’ she said patting his neck. He whined and nudged her with his nose. She sighed. ‘Like everything else, we’ll just have to deal with it. Small steps, every day, Sarge.’
Lily looked at the progress she’d made in the garden and prayed she’d be allowed to stay and see it to fruition. She ignored the flutter of her heart when car doors slammed in quick succession. Would Mark be angry with her? Had he come to arrest them? She stood and applied the garden fork to turning the soil, slowly revealing the fresh, undamaged ground beneath. Soon Bill would come and they would cover it with nutrients, feed it, and nurture it back to health. Footsteps sounded behind her and the breeze carried the scent of aftershave, a woodsy soap and healthy male. Her heart missed a beat and attraction tugged at her belly as she breathed in the scent she’d come to associate with Mark.
‘It’s looking good, Lily.’ His deep voice shivered over her.
For a moment she wasn’t sure whether he meant the garden or the evidence they’d handed over. Choosing the garden seemed like the safer topic. She leaned on the garden fork and turned to look at him, searching his face, gauging his mood. ‘Thank you.’
‘Is that what you have in mind?’ With a reassuring smile, he flicked a hand at the sketch pad propped up in the basket. ‘Can I have a look?’
‘Sure…I guess.’ The tension in her shoulders eased a little and the knot in her stomach loosened. Surely he wouldn’t be making small talk if it was bad news. She had to think positive. It was all she had left.
Mark bent to pat Sarge. ‘Some guard dog you are. Lying there and letting strangers walk up unannounced.’
Sarge looked at him with soppy eyes as Mark stroked his head. Lily watched as he scratched the dog’s ears, imagined the gentleness in his touch, and found herself thinking what a lucky dog he was. If those big warm hands stroked her hair, her face, she’d turn her face into his palm, plant a soft kiss there. Maybe one at the pulse on his wrist too. For a moment she allowed herself the freedom to dream as his jeans hugged firm and sexy hips, pulled tight across his muscular thighs when he squatted to pick up her sketchpad and ran long, well-shaped fingers over her drawing. She imagined those fingers trailing up her thigh, caressing her hip, cupping her bottom and drawing her against him. Heat flooded her. Parts of her she’d thought long dead tingled with need.
‘Lily, these are —’ Mark’s words ended abruptly as he stood and caught the burn in her eyes. He closed the sketchpad and put it in the basket then strolled towards her, holding her gaze. ‘You shouldn’t look at me like that.’
‘I’m sorry…I…’ Her heart beat faster, totally captured by the answering heat in his dark and stormy eyes.
‘No, don’t apologise.’ The warmth of his finger traced her lips. ‘I’m attracted to you, Lily. In another time, another place, we might have a chance. Right now though, there’s too much at stake. You’re a new widow, a victim, no matter what the circumstances. Earning your trust to treat Luke’s case with fairness is far more important to me.’
He was right. Could she trust him? He’d saved her from getting killed, promised her protection, found her a safe haven. Was that nothing but a trick to get her to reveal the information he wanted? And when the case was over, what then?
‘I see those questions in your eyes and you’re right to be thinking them. Any involvement I have with you now can jeopardise the case, but God help me, I’d like to kiss you right now.’ He stepped closer until she felt the brush of his body against hers. ‘May I, Miss Lily, just this once?’
She lifted her head, parted her lips, willed them to say no, but the words wouldn’t come as her heart shouted yes. Big hands cupped her face, lifted her chin and his head descended to block out the sun.
Warm, firm lips sampled hers, testing her response. Hesitantly, Lily returned his kiss, tasting a blend of chocolate and mint. With each brush across her mouth, the taste of him drew her deeper. The garden fork clattered to the ground and her hands rested in the curve of his waist to steady herself. Her head spun as he gathered her closer into the cradle of his hips where the effects of their kiss were evident. She revelled in the strength of it and burrowed into the warmth and length of it as she responded to the magic of his lips on hers. All reasonable thought fled as Mark’s hand came up to caress the curve of her back, trailed up and down her spine leaving a trail of desire singing along her nerve ends. She moaned against his seeking lips and lifted her hips to feel his essence at her core. Desperate need she’d never felt before consumed her as her body begged his for attention. A call he answered with equalled passion.
‘Ah, Lily,’ he muttered against her lips. Slowly easing back and inevitably cooling the passion that simmered between them, he lifted his head. ‘We can’t do this right now. The case, the timing…’
‘I know,’ she answered, enjoying the heat of his body for a moment longer as her hands caressed the unsteady hammering of his heart.
There was no need for apologies or explanation. They felt what they felt. Whether right or wrong, good or bad, it was there and it would be dealt with one step at a time. Like everything else in her life. She pressed a lingering kiss at the V of his shirt that revealed a smooth, golden throat, felt the press of his lips against the crown of her head, missed the warm security of his arms as he dropped his hands and stepped away.
‘I’ll see you at the house. We have a few more questions for you and Luke.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed and watched him walk away, a hand on her pounding heart.
Chapter 7
Lily took her time getting to the house in the hope it would give her heated cheeks time to cool. Wow, what a kiss. She’d felt it to the depths of her soul. Gino had seldom kissed her, even in their early years together. Sex was always hurried. A means to an end and the satisfaction was all his. Propping the garden fork up against the veranda rail, she turned to the garden tap to wash off the soil and soot that had crept in under the gloves. The water was chilly, the pipes not yet warmed by the sun.
No, there’d been no after-sex cuddles or affectionate kisses. No affection at all, come to think of it. He’d be back to business, throwing off the covers, into the shower and out of the house. And it was always morning sex. She could set her alarm clock by his actions. Had she been such an uninspiring lover that Gino thought it a duty to be gotten over with as quickly as possi
ble?
Stop blaming yourself! It takes two to create the passion. Would Mark be a hurried lover? Or would he take the time to please them both? Lily splashed cold water on her flaming cheeks. It was better not to wonder, not to dream. Whatever was between her and Mark was best left unexplored. She and Luke had too much to lose, too much to rebuild. Albero’s shadow and Gino’s ghost still ruled their lives and until they no longer did, she had no right to dream. She wiped her hands on her jeans, whipped off her hat, shook out her hair and hoped she didn’t look like a grubby scarecrow.
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she climbed the veranda steps and opened the kitchen door to the noise of an excited dog and the blend of varying tones of male voices. She spotted TJ making coffee and headed for the safety of the oestrogen zone.
‘Have fun out there, Lily?’
Lily’s cheeks flared. Oh God! Had TJ seen them? She hesitated before answering, ‘Yes, I did. Turning the soil was quite therapeutic. Although I think I might feel it in my muscles later.’
TJ smiled. ‘Wait until you start planting and seeing it come to life. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done in the sketches. I’m sure it’s going to look great.’
‘Gosh, I really hope so.’
‘Bill dropped off a book on native gardens he thought you might like. He was on his way to the garden centre to arrange a load of mulch for you for the flower beds. He said to have a look and let him know which plants you wanted to start with.’ TJ handed her a mug of coffee which she accepted gratefully. ‘I think he’s keen to give you a hand with it too. He’s been looking for a project since we finished building the cabins.’
Pleased that the conversation had taken such a normal turn, Lily felt the heat in her cheeks recede once more. She turned to lean against the kitchen bench and searched for Luke amongst the men. He was chatting animatedly to Harold Jones, his eyes shining with excitement. She caught the odd word. Model aeroplane, 12 volt battery, remote range. Marty stood next to him, nodding with equal animation, his face beaming. Slightly to the left, with his back to her, Scott engaged in a friendly footy argument with Mark.
Lily indulged in a study of Mark from the safety of distance between them. The dark blue, police-issue polo shirt hugged broad shoulders and muscular arms. Her gaze followed the line from his hands, over the strong forearms to the flex of the biceps that stretched the sleeves of his shirt. She lingered there for a moment. How would they feel if she ran her hands over them? Was the body beneath that shirt equally as taut and toned? Yes, she’d felt its hardness against her. Up past the strong throat to a firm jawline and magic lips. Her gaze lingered there for longer than she’d intended as her mind relived the feel of them on hers. Need shot through her like an arrow. The lips twitched under her scrutiny and her gaze shot up to meet twinkling grey eyes. Busted.
‘Coffee’s up! Come and get.’ TJ’s voice broke the spell as she dropped a packet of Tim Tam’s onto the table.
The chatter continued around the table as they drank the coffee and finished off two packets of chocolate biscuits. Lily knew the friendly chatter would end and the real reason the detectives were here would soon be revealed. Did they simply have more questions to ask or would it be more sinister than that? No matter what simmered between them, Mark’s first priority was the case. The outcome of that would determine whether there was a future in what they felt for each other. The moment came before she was ready for it.
‘Lily, we have a few questions to ask you and young Luke when you’re ready.’ Harold Jones drained his mug and placed it in the centre of the table.
‘Of course,’ she responded, looking at Luke to gauge his reaction. Luke played with the ear of his mug, his face set. ‘Luke?’
‘Yep,’ he responded, not looking up.
‘Okay,’ said TJ, standing up. She collected the empty mugs, placed them neatly in the kitchen sink and tossed the empty biscuit packets in the trash. ‘We’ll leave you guys to it. We’re up cleaning out the cabins if you need us.’
Mark waited until the door closed behind them before he spoke. ‘Luke, we need to know what happened the night Tiny died.’
‘Wait!’ Lily interrupted. ‘What happens to Luke if he tells you what he knows?’
Mark sat back in his chair. ‘If we can prove beyond reasonable doubt that Luke is as much a victim in this as Tiny was, then he is purely a witness.’
‘And if we can’t?’
‘We will.’
The assurance in his voice was comforting but Lily knew she wouldn’t be convinced until it was over. There was no turning around now anyway.
‘Your cooperation with the investigation counts in your favour,’ Harold reassured her. ‘All we need is for young Luke to tell the truth to back up the evidence.’
‘What about protection?’ Lily turned to Harold.
‘If we can prove that Luke is in danger, he will be given protection.’
‘Luke?’
‘I want it over, Mum.’ He twisted his hands, bounced his right leg nervously and hid behind his dark fringe.
Lily hesitated a moment longer. She looked at Mark, studied his grim face, the set of his lips and the determination in his eyes. She saw beyond the poker face and into the soul of the only man she trusted to keep them safe. ‘Then let’s get on with it. I’ve a garden to finish.’
Mark felt the impact of her searching eyes all the way to his groin. She’d drawn back the layers and stared right into his heart. Her trust in him weighed heavily. He couldn’t afford to fail her or Luke. And when all this madness was over, he would take her in his arms and —
‘Right,’ said Harold, cutting across Mark’s thoughts. He pulled out his iPad and began to make notes. ‘Luke, can you tell me what happened on the night Tiny disappeared?’
Luke slouched in his chair and stretched his feet out ahead of him. In his hands he folded and refolded a serviette with nervous fingers. Lily placed a hand on his and squeezed.
‘Gino told me we were going to pick up a package.’
So Luke called his father by his first name. No affectionate terms for the man who made him. That said a lot about the father-son relationship, Mark thought.
‘We went to the convention centre where Tiny was.’
‘For the motor industry awards night, right? He was nominated for an award?’ Harold asked.
‘Yeah, apprentice of the year. He was chuffed. He’d been talking about it a lot and it made Gino mad. Gino said he’d make more money working with them.’
‘Working with them?’
‘Yeah, running the drugs. Tiny did deliveries too — drops and pick-ups.’ Luke twisted the serviette around his fingers.
‘What happened when you got to the convention centre?’ Harold prodded when Luke went silent.
‘Gino sent me upstairs and told me to wait for Tiny at the toilets. He said to tell him he had a present for him.’
‘What did Tiny say?’
‘He said to tell Gino to fuck off. Sorry, Mum.’ Luke sighed. ‘I told him I was scared. That I had a feeling something funny was going on. He said he did too.’
‘What happened then?’
Luke shrugged. ‘The Hangman came up and took us both to the car.’
Mark straightened in his chair. ‘The Hangman?’
‘Yeah, that’s Albero’s tag.’
That made sense, thought Mark. In the graffiti Tiny had drawn in the notebook was a picture of a stick figure hanging from a noose, like the spelling game they’d played as kids. For every word you spelt wrong, a piece got added to the picture until your stick figure hung from a noose and your opponent yelled ‘Hangman!’ He wondered if kids stilled played that game and if Luke understood the significance of the tag Albero had chosen. ‘So what did the Hangman do?’
‘Albero never makes an appearance unless there’s major shit. I knew Tiny’s time was up. So did he. He couldn’t run. There were too many people around.’
‘Why didn’t he ask for help?
‘
Albero told him not to make a scene, to come quietly. He didn’t want to attract attention but he would if he had to. We had no choice, we had to go or put the people around us in danger too. Marty was meant to be there, but he stayed in the conference room.’
Mark watched Lily’s reaction. Tears warred with the horror in her eyes. How many times had she relived this scene with Luke?
‘Go on, son,’ Harold encouraged.
‘All the way to the park, I kept thinking of ways to escape. I knew the Hangman was pissed off about Marty not coming out. We weren’t allowed to talk. Gino drove, I sat in front. Tiny and Albero at the back. At the park it was dark. The lights in the public toilets were out. There was a woman there waiting for us. They called her Snow.’
‘Serena Snow?’
Luke shrugged. ‘I guess.’
Harold tapped the notes into his iPad. ‘Go on.’
‘They asked her if she brought the stuff and she said yes.’
‘What stuff?’
‘Snow, a mix between Ice and LSD.’ Luke shivered. ‘It makes you go crazy. You see…monsters…weird stuff and feel…strong, powerful. It makes you mean.’
Lily choked back a sound and Mark stretched a hand across the table to cover hers. He wished he didn’t have to put her through this. Hell, he wished he didn’t have to sit through this, knowing what this poor kid would have witnessed.
Harold paused. ‘I know this is hard for you, son. Snow isn’t something we want on the streets. Do you need a moment? A drink?’
Luke shook his head. ‘No.’ He rushed on, the words tumbling over one another in the hurry to get them out. ‘They held him down, tied him up. Albero injected him. Too fast. There was air in the syringe. He started to hallucinate and Snow fed him stories to make them worse until he screamed and begged. He died, paralysed, thinking he was being burnt to death.’ The horror of what he’d witnessed reflected on his face, in the tightness of his lips. His features twisting with the agony of the memory, he cried. ‘I couldn’t do a fucking thing. Gino held me, laughing, taunting me, calling me weak and telling me I was next. I yelled at him to stop. He hit me and told me to stop being a baby. I puked. They dragged me to the car. Albero said the same would happen to me if I dobbed.’ Helplessly, he turned to Lily. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’
