Riding the Storm
Page 19
FOR ONCE, MELBOURNE’S unpredictable weather didn’t let them down. Although it was still officially winter, the day dawned bright and clear with no clouds in the sky and no sign of rain. Margie and her friends had constructed a pretty arch of white roses at the end of a wisteria-covered walkway. Tinka, who had once been wary and frightened of strangers, ran around barking joyfully, having adapted well to this new environment of people and horses.
Both Chrissie and her mother wore simple dresses in a style reminiscent of the sixties. Val chose to wear a small cap made from the same fabric as her dress while Chrissie wore a small coronet of real flowers with other small, white flowers scattered throughout her abundant hair. Also, as the ceremony was informal and with no attendants, they decided not to carry flowers.
Michelle caught Mike’s attention immediately but she received his overtures with a coolness that made Chrissie smile. This wasn’t the same girl at all who had seemed so starry-eyed at the prospect of spending the day with him. If this was a strategy on her part, it was certainly working as he couldn’t take his eyes off her; it would do Mike good to jump through hoops for once in his efforts to impress a girl.
The marriage celebrant, who looked as pretty as the two brides in a figure-hugging white suit, turned up in a chauffeur-driven white sports car. Moments after her arrival, the wedding ceremony was under way; the woman wanted to waste no time. With no music or singing, just a sincere exchange of the two couples’ vows, it was over in minutes and the marriage celebrant climbed back into her car and was driven away to perform yet another ceremony that day. The rest of the wedding party headed back to the house for the celebrations to begin.
Ryan and Chrissie, anxious to seize a moment or two for themselves, lingered in the garden to savour the moment before joining the others. They had almost reached the front door when a small, black sedan came up the drive towards them, wheels spinning and spraying gravel as it was travelling too fast. Not recognizing the car, they both turned towards it, wondering who was about to gatecrash the party. It stopped with a squeal of brakes and the driver sprang out of the driver’s seat to confront them. Chrissie recognized him at once. It was Harry’s son, Tim.
Shaking with rage or nerves, he staggered towards them and Chrissie’s heart sank when she saw he was carrying a pistol, although he wasn’t pointing it at anyone yet.
‘S-so,’ he said, shaking so much he could scarcely speak. ‘The h-happy couple—’
Chrissie tried to take a step towards him but Ryan held her back.
‘Oh, Timmy, why are you here? You don’t want to ruin our wedding day.’
‘I don’t care. Why should you be happy when I’m not!’ he raged at her. ‘And don’t call me Timmy! Only my mum ever called me that.’
‘Chrissie,’ Ryan whispered. ‘Two steps and you can be inside. Then I’ll try to disarm him.’
‘No!’ she whispered back. ‘This is worse than before. He’s beside himself and he doesn’t know what he’s doing. You’ll be killed.’
‘Stop your whispering and plotting because you won’t get away,’ Tim said, gaining in confidence. ‘You’re a murderer, Ryan Lanigan, and I’m here to see you pay.’ And he raised the gun, pointing it at Ryan’s heart.
‘No, Tim, please listen to me.’ Chrissie continued to stand in the line of fire. ‘It was an accident. Everyone says so. Nobody wanted your father to die.’
‘It’s not fair. That man shot my father and walked free.’
‘It was your father who brought that gun to the scene – not Ryan. And he lied to you too, saying it wasn’t loaded.’ Chrissie took a deep breath, trying to control her nerves. ‘It was a terrible accident that shouldn’t have happened. You don’t want to make it worse by harming Ryan. Just drop the gun on the ground and step away.’
‘Oh, you’re so clever, making it sound so reasonable.’ He put on a mocking falsetto. ‘“Drop the gun on the ground and step away.” You think I’ll give up that easily? With revenge so close, I can almost taste it?’ He raised the gun higher to point it at Ryan’s head. His hand was shaking so much, Chrissie was afraid he’d fire it without really meaning to.
‘This isn’t you, Tim.’ She felt bound to keep reasoning with him. ‘You’re not like your father.’
‘Are you sure?’ Tim giggled hysterically, betraying his nerves yet again. ‘I might be exactly like him.’
Out of the corner of her eye, Chrissie could see the rest of the wedding party assembled in the hall looking out of the open front door, faces tense with horror at the scene being played out in front of them.
At that moment Tinka, sensing something was terribly wrong, dashed out of the house to start barking at Tim. For a small animal, she could make a very loud noise.
Momentarily distracted, Tim snarled, turning the gun towards the little dog bouncing around behind him. Chrissie clapped her hands to her mouth, certain Tinka was doomed, but it was Walter who surprised Tim, by coming up swiftly behind him, depriving him of the gun before he could fire it. Then, clearly used to firearms, he opened it and quickly removed the bullets.
‘Hmm. Nasty little weapon,’ he said, almost to himself. Then he looked up and grinned at the wedding party. ‘Fine thing to have to do on our wedding day,’ he said. ‘But somebody better call the cops.’
Margie hurried to oblige.
Disarmed, all the courage and fight went out of Tim and he sank to the ground, hunched over his knees and weeping. There was no need to restrain him while they waited for the police to take him away.
‘That poor kid,’ Chrissie said later as they watched him being handcuffed and pushed none too gently into the back of a police car. The black sedan he arrived in had been reported as stolen. ‘Never stood a chance in life, did he?’
‘Well, nobody forced him to come here and ruin our wedding day,’ Val said.
‘He hasn’t ruined it at all because we won’t let him.’ Walter was determined to raise everyone’s spirits. ‘I have a thirst above rubies! Let’s get this party started and break out the champagne.’
By the Same Author
Flying Colours
Red for Danger
Starshine Blue
Emerald Green
Indigo Nights
Magenta Magic
On Track to Murder
Copyright
© Heather Graves 2015
First published in Great Britain 2015
ISBN 978 0 7198 1876 9 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1877 6 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1878 3 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1631 4 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Heather Graves to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988