Leath's Legacy

by Anne Ashby

  Two days for painting, and then she’d visit the retirement home Penelope had lived in.

  When she leaned over to flick open the bathroom window, Leath gasped. Her heart jumped in her chest. A man had just sidled into one of the sheds.

  Speeding into the kitchen she grabbed her phone, its coolness in her fingers steadying her panic. How long would it take the police to get here if she called? Probably hours. Her legs began to feel decidedly wobbly. She didn’t even know where the nearest policeman was likely to be.

  She edged along the wall to the lounge window and peeked out from behind the curtains. A huge, menacing shadow was visible through the dirty window of the shed. His demeanour warned of no good.

  With her heart thumping so hard it was choking her, Leath crouched behind the curtain. What should she do? It might be broad daylight, but she was all alone, and miles from anywhere.

  Sheer terror swept through her and she began to shake as frightening images raced through her mind. She hadn’t bothered locking the garage door. If he entered the garage and found her car...

  Unable to move when the shed door slammed, she hunched on the floor under the window. Had she locked the front door?

  Oh hell! She couldn’t remember.

  Icy fear congealed in the pit of her stomach, dragging at her limbs. Remember, remember, she begged. She’d been so tired...had she turned the key?

  Of course you locked it, a voice inside tried to reassure her, she always locked doors. Except for the garage door this morning. A moan escaped even though she was holding her breath.

  Cowering as footsteps and a muttered curse from outside told her he’d left the shed, fear rooted her to the spot. Her mobile slipped in her clammy hands, and she had to clutch it tight to her chest.

  If only she knew her neighbour’s number, she could ring Kirk Buchanan for help. Even though they hadn’t parted on good terms, she didn’t doubt he would come to the aid of a neighbour in trouble.

  If only she’d had the sense to enter some Greene Valley numbers into her cellphone. Or even make sure there was a local phonebook somewhere. Idiot! Instead she was alone, stuck here in the countryside with a possible maniacal killer stalking around outside.

  Don’t be so silly. It could be someone coming to call. Or it could be an innocent tourist popping in to ask for directions.

  The pounding in her ears deadened sounds from outside. An innocent visitor didn’t slink around searching through out buildings. Where is he now? She couldn’t hear him. Was he gone? Had he left? She strained to listen, closing her eyes to enhance her hearing.

  Nothing. Not a sound except the deafening roar in her ears and the woozy thumping of her chest. She wriggled, her sweatshirt sticking icily to her hunched shoulders.

  The jiggling of the house’s front door knob spurned her into action. She couldn’t just sit here waiting for him to break in. No-one could help her but herself.

  Scurrying as quickly as her hands and knees would allow, Leath retreated to the kitchen where she shuffled through the meagre grocery supplies they’d gradually built up over their visits. Finding what she wanted, she snaked her fingers up into the utensil drawer and drew out a sharp knife. The pepper pot kept well away from her face, she dug at the lid until it popped off. “You’ll get this in your face if you try to stop me,” she muttered under her breath. The knife she abandoned. She’d read somewhere a weapon could aggravate such a situation and be used by the burglar. From the size of that shadow, he’d easily disarm her. But maybe a pepper pot would be different. Especially if she hit him smack in the face.

  Retrieving her car keys from the bench and stuffing them and her cellphone into the deep pockets of her track pants, Leath sucked in an unsteady breath. I can do this. She crawled along the passage to the back bedroom carefully balancing her makeshift weapon. If she climbed out the side window, the house would hide her from view until she made a dash for the garage and her car.

  With the pepper pot on the windowsill, she edged across to the opposite window, hoping to ascertain where the intruder was before she exited the house. She peered around the curtain, breathing in quick shallow gasps as her gaze flew about the yard in search of him.

  Her heart stopped as the side door of the garage opened and a shadowy figure emerged. He was looking straight at the house. Her head jerked backwards as she realized she’d left her escape too late. The element of surprise had gone.

  ****

  Kirk strode toward Penny’s house cursing under his breath. It was midweek; he hadn’t expected anyone to be here, except hopefully his wandering father. Now, if only he could get by with a neighbourly query without having to explain his father’s condition.

  He banged on the door.

  He banged again. “Miss Robson, are you there?” He thumped his fist a third time before sounds within stayed his hand. The door burst open and he was confronted by a raging tornado in ugly, tight-fitting clothes.

  “You!” The spit in her voice was accompanied by a scowl that might have sent a lesser man running. “What are you doing searching my sheds? How dare you intrude onto my property!”

  His gaze dropped to her right hand, fisted around something small and leaking. His nose twitched at the scent of the fine brown powder spilling from her fist as it was gesticulating wildly about. Pepper.

  Kirk’s conscience tweaked. She’d seen him and been frightened. Or she had been afraid of an unknown intruder.

  He felt his lips twitch. There wasn’t any sign of fear now. No, now he’d identified himself, her tirade was filled with anger. And he could understand. If he’d found someone sniffing around the outbuildings on the farm, he’d have been just as angry.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I can explain—”

  “I don’t want an explanation,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “Just get off my land and don’t come back.”

  “If you’ll listen—”

  “I have no interest in anything you might say. It’s time for you to listen. This place is not for sale. There is nothing you can do; no scare tactics will change our minds. Now get off my land and stay off.” The door was slammed in his face before he could formulate a reply.

  What was the matter with the woman? Did she think he was the sort of man who’d resort to trying to scare her away? Sneak around and frighten the living daylights out of a defenceless woman? Obviously, yes!

  Well, he’d soon put that right. He wasn’t going to risk the silly woman might sully his good name.

  With a hand raised to knock on the door, his beeping cellphone caused him to pause.

  “Kirk? I found Dad behind the woolshed. He’s twisted his ankle.” As always, Kirk marvelled at his mother’s patient calmness. “Can you help me get him home?”

  Torn between sorting out this mess with Leath Robson and helping his father, Kirk had no alternative. “I’ll be right there, Mum.”

  ****

  Inside, Leath released a long pent-up breath as a vehicle started. She slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor. Grimacing as she noticed the pepper spilled all over the floor, she opened her hand and rescued the poor little misshapened cardboard box. So much for throwing it in someone’s face! It was almost empty.

  What had he been doing here? He wasn’t on a friendly visit. That was evident.

  Had he been trying to steal something? There hadn’t been anything in his hands when he’d come to the door. She was sure there was nothing here worth stealing, and somehow, she hadn’t previously pegged him a thief. So what had he wanted?

  Leath’s heart gave an almighty thump and she felt her jaw drop.

  Maybe he’d been planting something incriminating. Was that his plan to get rid of them? Get them into trouble with the law?

  All her earlier happy anticipation had gone. Once she’d identified the man outside, her fear had vanished, to be replaced with a blistering anger she hadn’t known she was capable of. Overcome with adrenalin screaming through her veins, she’d been tempted to physically
attack him as she opened the door. Of all the gall, that man sure had more than his share.

  Kirk Buchanan’s visit made Leath realise how vulnerable she was here alone. “What I need is a big dog,” she muttered as she stomped around inspecting every inch of the yard. If she could ever afford to live here permanently that’s what she’d do, buy a vicious dog to scare unwanted visitors away.

  It took almost two hours to thoroughly search all the out buildings. When Leath found nothing to support her theory Kirk had planted something, anger rose all over again. What the hell had that man been doing?

  Cursing the waste of good painting time on what had turned out to be a wild goose chase, Leath trudged back to the house. She slammed a piece of paper onto the bench and began a new list. Padlocks and chains. Next time she came, every door and window would be securely locked against Kirk Buchanan, or any other wanton intruder.

  The gentle calmness of the beach beckoned her. Torn, her gaze switched from the beauty of lapping waves on golden sand to the unit she should be working on and back again. A walk along its length might ease her anger, but she’d already wasted so much time. Her tight shoulders slumped. To consider a walk right now would be frittering away time I can’t spare. With a regretful glance at the blue water, she turned her back and headed for the first unit.

  Leath’s mood did improve, although she couldn’t quite get the audacity of Kirk Buchanan out of her mind. He’s so full of himself, she decided as the rhythm of undercoating the concrete block walls calmed her nerves.

  Determined to drive all thoughts of him from her mind, his image kept sneaking back. He wasn’t a man you’d forget in a hurry, not with that physique. There was something about manual labour that made a man look more of a man. Farming obviously suited him, or at least it had developed his body into fine shape.

  Leath stopped, her paintbrush stuck halfway into the paint pot.

  When had she noticed his body?

  She hadn’t.

  Of course she hadn’t. Not consciously, anyway. She’d been too busy detesting his arrogance. She shuffled her feet. Then why can I close my eyes and visualise him so clearly? Paint dripped onto the floor as she slapped an over-full brush up against the wall and continued painting. She worked the excess paint across the wall swearing out loud. He’d ruined enough of her day; she wasn’t allowing him to ruin her workmanship as well.

  ****

  The call of birds echoed through the air as Leath opened her eyes next morning after a satisfying deep sleep. Lying for a few moments enjoying the peacefulness, she stretched and grimaced as pain shot through her shoulders. By the time these units are finished, I’ll look like a body builder. She jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

  Thrilled with anticipation she sang as she bathed and threw on some clothes. She wasn’t wasting one moment today. Her plan for the first unit was actually taking shape. She had the paints, and hopefully the skill, to turn the room into a little piece of Africa.

  So many ideas for decorating these units clamoured inside her brain. Each unit was going to be very different. Initially, her plan had been to start with a 1920’s theme, but hunting around Auckland for suitable furniture and fittings she’d found a pile of antiquities that looked amazingly African in the back of a secondhand shop.

  A suitable duvet cover and matching curtains hanging in a mall window display the very next day seemed too prophetic to ignore, so the ideas for her African unit had been born.

  With yesterday’s wasted hours impacted on her tight schedule, she accepted a trip to the retirement home couldn’t be fitted in this visit. The home was further away than she’d imagined and would take a huge chunk out of a day to visit.

  She’d be struggling to get the jungle scenes painted before tomorrow when Robby was to arrive transporting the furniture. Solving the Penelope Maguire puzzle would have to wait.

  She gave a little skip as she hurried toward the kitchen and grabbed a pottle of yoghurt to eat while the coffee pot dripped. Her mind buzzed with the ideas she was itching to get started on. She couldn’t sit still, but threw open the French doors and wandered about the yard eating as she went.

  Fortified by her usual two cups of strong coffee, Leath was soon ready to start the day’s work. Joy bubbled up inside. She grinned as she strode over to the unit, her sketchpad balanced on top of a carton containing numerous tins of paint and associated paraphernalia.

  Chapter Five

  After a very productive day, Leath felt a strange sense of restlessness as she flexed her tired shoulders. It was time to call a halt. She was getting careless. Under her breath she muttered as she wiped away what should have been monkeys playing in the vines of her African jungle.

  Scrapping plans to visit Penelope’s rest home meant she still had all day tomorrow. Robby wouldn’t be leaving Auckland until at least six o’clock. That gave her plenty of time to finish the murals. No need to exhaust herself.

  Wandering around the house with a coffee mug in her hand, she glanced at the locked desk every time she walked past it. They’d never found a key, and now, it didn’t look like they ever would. But as much as the sight of the monstrosity beckoned her, she turned away, half afraid of what she might find. Or not find. As much as she hated waiting, she’d promised Robby the unit would come first.

  She chewed her lip, a thought taking hold. She’d had a break, so if she returned to work now, put in another three or four hours...maybe she could use the time tomorrow to drive up to the rest home.

  No. Slamming down the empty mug on the kitchen bench, she dismissed the idea before it could take hold. She couldn’t risk working in artificial light and making less than a decent job because she was tired. She rubbed the tense muscles at the back of her neck. It would have taken half a day to drive up to the home, talk to the staff, and drive back. Half a day she’d promised Robby she wouldn’t waste until at least one of the units was ready for occupation.

  On the verandah Leath stared out at the sea, wondering if her benefactor had sat here, too, marvelling at the sheer beauty before her. She sighed. It was only when she stopped working that Penelope intruded. As long as she kept herself busy, she could almost forget the mystery they were no closer to solving.

  The toilet wallpaper still needed stripping. She screwed up her nose. That felt like work. What she needed was some hard physical exercise to fill in a couple of hours and get rid of this tenseness.

  The beach and the shimmering sea beckoned, but she dismissed them. It was still too chilly to contemplate swimming, and the beach wasn’t long enough to satisfy the need for a good run she felt right now.

  A grin began to grow as inspiration struck. A kick sent her Jandals flying; she tugged on running shoes and jogged down the front steps. The wallpaper could wait. It was time to explore the rest of their thirty acres.

  The fence was no barrier as she leapt over the wires. Jogging through the long, lush pasture, Leath wondered who’d been grazing this paddock. Someone obviously had. Her gaze followed the crest of the hill until she could see red roofs. I bet it was Kirk Buchanan. And I bet he’s never paid for it either.

  Well, not anymore. Until they decided to buy some sheep or bobby calves to keep the grass under control, she’d lease it. A paddock this large should be able to support three or four horses, she guessed. She’d ask if there was a local pony club next time she was in town or put up a notice in the supermarket.

  The bush on the back of the hill drew her. Perhaps there were tracks there. A new sense of enthusiasm filled her as she realized even if there weren’t now they could develop pathways. Couples coming to their units could enjoy the ease of wandering through the gardens-if they ever got restored-or if they wanted a little more exercise, they could explore the bush.

  Leath laughed, the sudden sound frightening some birds and sending them flapping through the branches. Any plans for developing this area would come in at about number ninety-nine on the list of things to do in the next five years. But that didn’t dampe
n her enthusiasm or stop her day-dreaming of the prospect.

  Leath’s pace slowed as she entered the bush, her gaze darting everywhere as visions of what they could do danced before her. There may have once been tracks, but they appeared rather haphazard and overgrown now. Not afraid of getting lost-after all, the bush covered only a third of their thirty acres—Leath walked steadily on, her mind buzzing with plans.

  She’d unearthed heaps of gardening books. Are there books on the bush as well? She frowned. She’d check as soon as she got back. They could attach little nameplates beside the different varieties of trees to make it like a park.

  Engrossed with planning another phase of their property development, Leath took little notice of how far she’d walked until a shiver of apprehension drew her to an abrupt stop.

  There was only supposed to be ten acres of bush.

  Ten acres would take no time to walk across, even if she’d walked in a diagonal line from corner to corner. A shocked glance at her watch told her she’d been here for over an hour.

  She looked around as a tight knot clasped in her chest. Forcing her mind to retrace her route, she recalled walking downhill and then climbing again. Omigod! The bush visible from their house was on the side of a hill, not in a gully.

  In a futile attempt to stay calm, she dragged huge breaths into her lungs. Goose bumps erupted on her bare arms, a shiver raced down her body. She wasn’t dressed properly...

  Dear God, no-one will even know to look for me! No-one would miss her until tomorrow night when Robby arrived.

  Panic almost blinded her. Her body began shaking. Shallow breathing replaced her earlier attempts to keep alarm at bay and exacerbated the pounding inside her head. Jellied legs threatened to dump her on the dank ground. Her gaze twitched around, the arms clutched around her body giving no warmth.