Heath smiled. ‘So, when was this?’ he asked. ‘You haven’t seen him at all? Has he called?’
‘About six months ago,’ Steph replied. ‘I’ve managed to get through to him a couple of times, but he never lets on what’s happening or where he is.’ She paused. ‘And then, and then …’ Stephanie’s eyes filled with tears.
Heath turned to look at the boys but they were busy playing. ‘What happened?’ he asked gently.
‘This has been going on for months. Horrible calls on my mobile demanding to know where Lachlan is and threatening to hurt me, the kids. And visits too. My family won’t have anything more to do with me. They say it’s my fault for marrying him.’
She was crying now.
‘A week ago, just after the furniture went, I’m here with the boys when there’s a knock at the door,’ Steph continued. ‘It’s two guys, same as before. But this time, the big bloke – acne scars, mouth full of teeth – shoves me into the wall and says if Lachlan doesn’t pay up fast then it’s us who’ll pay.’
She pulled up her sleeve. ‘He did this.’ Her forearm was covered in a purple mottled bruise.
Heath felt a deep anger burn in his stomach. Unbelievable. ‘Bloody hell! Did he touch the kids? Are they coming back?’
‘No – who knows?’ said Steph, who was now sobbing.
He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Listen, Steph, you have to go to the police.’
‘No!’ she cried.
Heath saw both children look up from their game. ‘It’s okay, boys,’ he said.
‘I can’t do that,’ said Steph. She looked frightened. ‘They’ll kill me. Trust me, Heath. Please don’t call them. Please!’
‘Okay, okay,’ he said.
What could he do? This was a much murkier situation than he had anticipated. He couldn’t leave her here. What if those animals returned? He needed to confront Lachlan, work out what was happening and get him to face up to the consequences so his family wouldn’t have to pay for his mistakes. And Nina, God, what sort of dangers had Lachlan exposed her to?
‘Look, Steph, have you got any other family you can turn to? Friends?’
‘No.’ She started crying again. ‘I have no-one except for maybe Janet and she’s in Queensland and her first loyalty’s to Lachlan anyway,’ she sniffed. ‘I lost a lot of my old friends when we moved here and my new ones proved to be not so good once I couldn’t afford to send the kids to the right school anymore.’ Her voice drifted off. ‘I have no money, Heath – none. I’m getting Centrelink payments but I don’t even have enough for decent food. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Okay,’ Heath said, his mind made up. ‘Listen to me. Pack a bag for you and the boys and I’ll get you into a hotel. It won’t be the Hilton but at least you should be safe there surrounded by people. This house is too secluded.’ He patted his jacket pockets for his phone.
‘But don’t you understand? I said I have no money!’
‘It’s okay. I’ll fix it. I’m going to head back to Wandalla and sort this out with Lachlan. You need help, that’s all I know, and I’m buggered if I’m going to leave you and the boys here for one more second. I should be able to find somewhere that’s okay.’
‘You mean it?’ asked Steph.
‘Yep.’ Then he grimaced. ‘Damn. That’s right!’
‘What is it?’
‘Oh just my bloody phone. I left it in the plane.’
‘Sorry, our landline’s been cut off. Do you want to use my mobile?’ offered Steph.
‘Probably not a good idea … in case … I’ll find a pay phone to get you somewhere to stay.’
‘Yes,’ said Steph. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’
‘It’s all good. Hey, boys, how about you start packing that game away? You’re off on an adventure.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Davo.’ Hilary fished in her bag, pulled out two pages of instructions and slapped them onto the bar of the Commercial Hotel.
‘Here, I’ve written it all down for you. This is the beer order, here’s the champagne, wine, glasses, staff. All the times are written down the side. It couldn’t be clearer.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better to get in some caterers?’ replied the barman. ‘I mean, that’s what you did the last time one of your daughters got engaged to Heath Blackett.’
Hilary sighed impatiently as Davo looked over at the denizens of the bar, obviously expecting a laugh. But they seemed engrossed by two well-dressed strangers at a table in the lounge.
‘They don’t want any fuss. I told you that,’ she said. ‘It was hard enough talking Nina and Heath into a celebration at all.’
‘I dunno, I’ll have to ask …’
‘Hey, Mrs Flint,’ called a regular from the huddle around the table. ‘Nina out at The Springs today?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ asked Hilary, surveying the scruffy man with distaste.
‘These blokes are after her. Reporters.’
‘And check this out – Sydney Morning Herald!’ Wozza, a rabbit-faced local Hilary remembered from her teenage years, held up the newspaper.
Hilary picked her way across the sticky carpet and joined them. The photograph on page three was the same shot used in the Wandalla Argus. Ben, Nina, Heath and Izzy were arranged, beaming, around the nugget.
‘These blokes want to do a documentary on the gold and the history of Durham House,’ continued Wozza. ‘They were asking how to get to The Springs.’
Hilary looked directly at the two strangers. The first, a stocky man with salt and pepper hair and acne scars, gave her a toothy smile. His companion, also powerfully-built but much younger, glanced at her and then his eyes slid away to a corner of the room. Something about the two of them sent a cold wave down her spine.
‘Can we buy you a drink?’ asked the first man, cordially.
‘No, thank you,’ she replied. ‘Who did you say you worked for?’
‘We’re freelancers,’ said the older man quickly. ‘Thought this would make a great little doco.’
‘Anyway, we’d better get going,’ said the younger one, pushing back his chair.
‘Yeah. Got to scout some locations,’ replied his companion. ‘You’ve got some great country out here.’
After loud farewells from the regulars, who had obviously enjoyed several free rounds of drinks, the men made for the door.
Hilary watched them carefully. Something was not right. She let them get a head start before following the pair along the main street and around the corner to the supermarket car park.
They paused at a silver four-wheel drive with tinted windows. Hilary craned around the brick wall of the supermarket trying to catch their conversation but it was muttered, low. Then the older man leaned into the car window and pulled out a map, which he spread on the bonnet. Hilary froze. The forward movement had hiked his jacket up. Something metal glinted in the sun. There was no mistake. A pistol.
They had a gun and they were looking for Nina. Hilary ran to her own car. CMT 14E, CMT 14E …’ she repeated over and over as she fumbled with shaking fingers for her car keys. Once inside, she scrabbled in the glove box for a pen and wrote down the number on a used envelope.
She threw the car into gear and flew down the main street. Switching the phone to hands-free, she hastily scrolled to ‘P’ for Police.
‘Hello, you’ve reached Sergeant Barry Kemp of the Wandalla Police,’ the answer phone intoned. ‘We are all out on police business at the moment. If your call is urgent, please phone triple-0 or leave a message and we will return your call.’
‘Shit!’ The emergency number would be useless. What could she tell them? That she had a bad feeling? That she claimed she’d seen a gun?
‘Barry, Hilary. Call me immediately. Immediately! I mean it.’
As she crossed the bridge she put her foot down. She would have to take care of everything herself. As usual.
Next call. Nina.
CHAPTER 26
‘We’re nearly there, everyone!’
Izzy clapped her hands in an attempt to rouse the tour group, soporific after their long bus trip from Dubbo airport. It was a small crop this time – six experimental artists from Sydney’s inner west. They seemed fun, though from the smell of weed behind the petrol station toilets and the territorial jostling between two of the younger bearded men, she knew she would have her hands full.
‘Oh look.’ One of the passengers pointed out the window as they turned into The Springs drive.
‘Great. They’ve put it up,’ said Izzy. The familiar wooden sign reading ‘Painted Sky Art Gallery and Retreat’ hung on chains above the entrance. But now Izzy saw that a gleaming bronze comet soared above it, its glittering tail reminiscent of a brushstroke. Heath had attached the piece so it vibrated in the breeze and scintillated in the midday sun. ‘Nina’s partner, Heath Blackett, likes to turn his hand to sculpture,’ she explained.
In a few hundred metres, Izzy spotted Hilary’s distinctive red Range Rover, parked askew on the shoulder of the track. ‘She must have broken down,’ she called to Hamish. ‘She’s probably at The Springs.’
‘And probably tearing strips off my cousin, Alex, at the garage – poor bugger,’ replied Hamish. ‘She only had it serviced last week.’
Izzy smiled, wryly. An outraged Hilary was the last thing she needed right now. But after they pulled up at the homestead and headed inside there was no sign of her. And no sign of Nina or Lachlan either. Lachlan’s car was gone but Nina’s was parked in its usual spot. They’d probably given Hilary a lift back to Paramour, she reasoned. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too long. At least one of them might have stayed to give her a hand, she thought grumpily, before plastering on her hostess smile.
‘Okay, everybody. This way,’ she called, ushering them towards the shearers’ quarters.
Izzy had stoked the traditional welcome campfire into a raging inferno by the time Ben’s ute buzzed across the cattle grid.
‘Is Nina with you? It’s almost five,’ she called, as Alfie began unloading the meat for the spit roast.
‘Haven’t seen her since this morning,’ replied Ben, unfolding his wheelchair.
‘She totally owes me,’ said Izzy, shaking her head. ‘Six guests to settle in, feed and water singlehandedly. Hilary’s car’s been left out on the drive. Maybe she’s sick. Nina might’ve taken her to town. Can’t get through to any of their phones. I’ve left messages.’
‘Not like her,’ said Ben. ‘I’ll help out till she gets back.’
‘Thanks,’ said Izzy, giving him a quick kiss. She was daunted by the thought of managing the evening without the usual teamwork. ‘I’m going to give Paramour a call and see what’s going on.’
Hilary’s cleaner, Jacqui, answered on the second ring.
‘What? She left her car on the side of the road?’ Jacqui sounded shocked once Izzy filled her in. ‘I was just about to call you,’ she said. ‘Mrs Flint went into town this morning to make arrangements for the engagement do and I haven’t seen her since. Not answering her mobile. Hasn’t left a message.’
‘Nina’s gone as well, and her cousin. The dog too.’ Izzy felt her throat tighten.
‘We should call the police, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have a look around and get back to you,’ answered Izzy.
Starting with the bedroom she began to search, not really knowing what she was looking for. Everything seemed normal. ‘Calm down,’ she told herself. ‘There’s a simple explanation. Stop being a drama queen.’
But when she pushed open the studio door she stopped dead in her tracks. Nina’s handbag was on the table. She rushed to it and found her friend’s phone. She would never have left it behind. Grasping the bag to her chest, she was heading outside when she saw it. A note written in Lachlan’s florid hand, held in place by a magnet on the fridge. How could she have missed this? Izzy turned on the light.
Dear Nina,
I’ve decided to bite the bullet and leave early. You were so kind to take me in. I’ve messed everything up.
Heading for Sydney. Like you said, I really need to get back to my own life instead of leeching off yours.
I’ll never forget your warmth and generosity,
Lachlan
Izzy’s mind cast about. Nothing seemed to make sense. Snatching up the note she ran outside to where Ben and Alfie were setting up the spit in the yard. The guests stood watching, intrigued.
‘Drinks on the table, everyone – help yourself!’ she called as she raced past. ‘Be with you in a second.’
‘What is it?’ said Ben, looking concerned.
‘Come inside. I need to show you something,’ she whispered.
‘Take over, Alfie, would you?’ said Ben, following her back to the house as quickly as he could.
‘I don’t get it,’ said Izzy, pacing the hallway. ‘Nina would never leave her bag or phone behind. And her car’s here. She can’t have gone with Lachlan because here’s his goodbye note. And she can’t have gone with Hilary because there’s her car. And where’s Syd? I’ve called and called him.’
‘Nina might have injured herself – fallen down somewhere,’ said Ben. ‘We need to search the home paddock and the outbuildings. Can we ask your people out there to give us a hand?’
‘I don’t think they’ll mind,’ Izzy replied.
‘Where are the torches?’
‘There are some in the laundry. I’ll see if I can find any batteries.’
Izzy was searching the kitchen drawers when Ben wheeled in behind her.
‘Uh, Izz, I think you’d better see this.’ Something in his voice sent a prickle of fear up her spine. She followed him to the sitting room.
Jim’s harbour painting was missing. ‘Shit,’ she said. ‘I’d better check the office.’
Izzy felt sick as she took in the trashed room. Documents cascaded from the open filing drawers and spread like lava across the floor. A framed certificate lay broken on the couch, the glass in shards. A chair was upturned and the desk lamp swung almost imperceptibly from its cord over the edge of the desk. Like a noose.
‘Ben! Ben!’ called Izzy. Breathing hard, she scrambled for a key in the desk drawer and tore open the gun cabinet near the office door. It was empty.
‘Ben!’ screaming this time.
‘Don’t touch anything,’ said Ben urgently, suddenly behind her. ‘Two more of Jim’s paintings from the gallery are missing. I’m calling the police.’
The fire had almost died. The leftover meat was now a blackened blob in the middle of the spit. Ben tried to eat a roast lamb sandwich Izzy had pressed into his hands, but gave up trying to swallow it past the lump in his throat. Heath needed to know. But he was still in Sydney and not picking up his phone. The subdued visiting artists had already drifted to their rooms. The bus would take them back to Dubbo airport in the morning. Poor Izzy had to change all their flights to Sydney, and Nina would have to refund their money as soon as this madness was over. Alfie was picking up glasses and stacking them. Ben watched as he lifted a tub of dishes and carried them to the kitchen, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Now they had searched all the buildings and yards there was nothing left for him to do. He felt restless, useless.
Ben took a deep breath and went methodically through every thing one more time.
This had to be about the gold. Yet the staff at the bank had said it was still there, safe and sound. A kidnap then? But if so, why no ransom demand? And why take Hilary too?
He kept coming back to the same theory: it must have been someone from the local area who had taken Nina. Someone Hilary would have recognised when she saw them on the road. That meant they would have to take her as well. Someone who knew Lachlan had left and Nina would be alone.
But if that were true, both women would be in real danger. The kidnappers would never let them go if the pair could identify them. And where was Syd? Abductors wouldn’t have taken a dog.
If only Heath would phone. Ben had called him at least a dozen times and left in
creasingly frantic messages. He tried not to let his imagination run away, to suppress his paranoia. Heath not picking up couldn’t have anything to do with what’s going on, could it? Perhaps he should go back inside and try again.
But his thoughts were interrupted by two sets of bouncing headlights appearing out of the blackness. He stiffened as he saw the blue and white checked pattern on the side of the car as it pulled up, followed by a police van.
Ben wheeled over to the car as the bulk of Sergeant Barry Kemp emerged, his silver buckles and badges reflecting the moonlight. Behind him, four young uniformed officers piled out of the van and began unloading.
‘G’day, Ben. Christ, what a business,’ Kemp said, shaking Ben’s hand and taking off his cap. ‘This just doesn’t make any sense.’ The policeman’s ruddy face was tense.
‘I’m Constable Gillian Ferrier.’ Even at a glance, the tall woman seemed more together than her superior. ‘My team and I are going to put a tap and trace on the phone and we’ll redirect any calls into Kurrabar over to here. We’ll need to get everyone out of the house so the forensics team can have a look.’
She seemed reassuringly competent.
‘Yeah, that’s what we’re going to do,’ echoed Kemp.
‘A phone tap. So you do think it’s a ransom situation?’ asked Ben.
Sergeant Kemp nodded. ‘Yes, looks that way.’
But Constable Ferrier interrupted. ‘Well, it’s one possibility. Best if we get everyone together. There’s new information you need to hear. No word from your brother?’
‘I’ll keep trying,’ said Ben. ‘But I’ll need to use the landline in the hallway. Mobile reception out here’s sketchy.’
‘Just make it snappy,’ said Ferrier. ‘We have to leave that line clear. I’ll get the guys to go over Isobel’s room first so she can sleep there tonight. Need to keep her nearby if there’s a call. Phone’s in the hall, you said?’
Ben nodded.
‘It won’t take long,’ she said as she and her colleagues headed through the front door, almost colliding with Izzy who was rushing outside.
The Shifting Light Page 27
