Northern Heat

by Helene Young

  ‘Ha! He only cares about his precious helicopter and his cars.’

  ‘And don’t forget his boat,’ Freya said, trying to lighten the mood. ‘We should take it for a spin.’ Did he have a tracker on that, she wondered?

  ‘Like he’d let us do that.’

  Freya tried for one last hug, but Sienna the bolshie teenager was back, dark circles under her eyes.

  ‘You need to get some more sleep,’ Freya said. She didn’t need to touch her daughter to urge her towards the door, but she loved the silky softness of her arms. She’d done everything in her power to give her a different life to the one she’d led, but she realised now how difficult the patterns of childhood were to shake off.

  It had to end.

  She was a survivor and tomorrow was a new beginning.

  23

  Conor chewed his muesli, looking across the river towards Cooktown. The headland tipped with the red and white lighthouse dominated the sky to the east, wrapped in a mantle of green as the bushland flowed down to the outskirts of the town.

  The town itself layered up the hill in erratic tiers. He picked out the museum that had started life as a convent. He’d done the tour not long after he’d landed here. The gold rush on the Palmer River was something he vaguely remembered learning about in school, but he had no idea the number of people who’d come to the district seeking their fortunes. Optimistic prospectors still made up a good percentage of the tourists who wandered through.

  Why had Kristy found her way here, he wondered? Because it was close to her parents? He shook his head and took another mouth of cereal. No time for daydreaming today. If the cops didn’t turn up to check out the Lady Leonie this morning then to hell with them; he needed to move her. He’d rather be pilloried for being a cautious man than a foolish one.

  His mobile phone buzzed and he picked it up.

  ‘G’day, Noah.’ He was grateful for the policeman’s support. Forged in the aftermath of the dramas in Banksia Cove when Conor had found himself pursued again by the Russian Mafia, it was an unlikely alliance that had grown into a friendship. Test the mettle of a man in a tough situation and that hard-won trust was never in doubt.

  ‘Mate, you seen the size of that storm heading your way?’

  ‘Yep, not going to be pretty.’

  ‘Are you staying?’

  ‘I’ll head upstream into the mangrove. The locals tell me it’s pretty sheltered in the upper reaches.’

  ‘Tie her up tight, mate. So, the reason I rang. Looks like you’re onto something with the McDonalds. The information you emailed through last night has rung alarm bells in high places, but this conversation is off the record.’ Conor sat back, his heart thudding, as Noah continued. ‘Nothing wrong with the cops in Cooktown except there’s not enough of them. The McDonalds’ file is huge. You know Jonno and Evelyn were acquitted of murder primarily because the prosecution didn’t do its job well enough? Everything in the evidence that Miller collected pointed to them murdering a gold prospector and then using the cattle to cover the killing ground. Best guess is that the bloke’s body was dropped from the helicopter well out to sea.’

  ‘Hell, that’s inventive.’ Conor should have been shocked. ‘And Steve McDonald?’

  ‘Never managed to pin anything on him before. The Cayenne’s registered, along with half a dozen other luxury vehicles, to a company that lists Steve, Jonno and Evelyn McDonald as directors.’

  ‘How about WAT 855? That on the list too?’

  ‘Hang on.’

  Conor could hear computer keys clicking.

  ‘Yep, they do like things to run in sequence. There’s an 855, 856 and 857.’

  ‘855 was at the house yesterday. I’m sure it’s the same car I saw drive away from Danny Parnell’s that morning. I’ve told the local cops as well.’

  ‘Jesus, you went visiting?’

  ‘A long story. Completely innocent.’

  ‘Right.’ Noah didn’t sound convinced. ‘Apart from tax evasion, Steve’s not flagged in any of the standover violence, but I did find some photos so I’ve sent the whole lot off for a run through the database. Can’t see any record of that being done before. Let’s see if you’re right and we can place him in Sydney at the time your family was shot. Maybe he’s always had watertight alibis in previous investigations. Maybe no one’s looked in the right place before. His file’s surprisingly slim compared with the rest of the family.’

  ‘You mean there are more McDonald siblings?’

  ‘Hell, yeah. Quite the little breeder, our Mrs McDonald. Three more brothers, all with strong contacts around Australia with like-minded organisations, including Rod Reeves’ mob.’

  ‘Right. So where does brother Steve fit in then?’

  ‘He’s giving orders. There’s also a question mark over old man McDonald’s death. Apparently fell from his horse, but the coroner’s report returned an open finding. Evelyn was the consummate grieving widow through all the inquiries.’

  ‘Have I walked into the middle of another operation here?’ Conor shifted in his seat. ‘Are the cops looking at them in regards to Danny Parnell’s shooting already?

  ‘Not at this point, but with your evidence about the car and Steve, that should change. Any big sheds catch your eye at the station?’

  ‘There’s a large structure, a hangar I guess, down by the grass airstrip, and the back of the stables had a compact building attached.’ Conor thought back to what he’d seen. ‘I guessed it was probably staff quarters, but now you mention it, there weren’t many windows.’

  ‘The cops think there’s a meth lab out there, but the McDonalds clearly have good contacts – the one and only time the cops got a warrant and did a full-scale raid there was nothing there. Barely even painkillers in the house.’

  ‘So they’re smart and well connected. Laying a red herring.’

  ‘Yep. So we wait and see. I’ll let you know if I hear anything more.’

  ‘Righto. I’ll be tied up with this bloody cyclone for a few days.’

  ‘Yeah, take care. I’d hate to see you lose another boat.’

  He finished his now-soggy cereal. Had he found the man who’d shot his family dead? Who’d ordered the attack on Bill McBride? Was Danny Parnell taken out because of drugs, or something else? It was entirely possible none of this was connected. Two shootings within a month didn’t mean a crime wave. Nor did it mean Rod Reeves wasn’t hunting him again.

  If he were still a betting man, he’d put money on the McDonalds having fired the bullet that felled Danny and maybe even Bill. Jonno was a bully, a thug in designer clothing. His little brother had the dead-fish stare of a man who controlled everything he could, down to minute detail. Both of them were dangerous.

  Two hours later, he watched Sergeant Miller dig bullets from the Lady Leonie’s superstructure.

  Miller looked up briefly from his work. ‘I spoke to Joyce this morning. He’s on days off now. Shouldn’t bother you any more. We are pursuing different lines of inquiry. Of course, it’s all going on hold while this bloody cyclone comes through. There’s about a hundred tourists camped around the district. Time-consuming making sure they’ve heard the warnings. You going up to the PCYC after this?’

  Conor nodded. ‘Figured I’d help out this morning. I need to shift this vessel and my own, but the tide’s not right until later.’

  ‘Sorry I can’t help, but it’s going to be mayhem. I’m only doing this because I’d be annoyed if she ends up on the bottom of the river and the evidence was lost.’

  ‘So would I.’

  There was a pause before Miller spoke again. ‘I was talking to Kristy this morning. She said she spent yesterday afternoon with you out at the McDonalds’.’ He straightened, pulling off his rubber gloves, and nailed Conor with his stern look.

  ‘Sort of.’ Conor knew he sounded defensive. ‘She gave me a lift to Sienna’s birthday party yesterday, then was called back for that accident. I came home with Abby. Kristy didn’t want to leave her with
the McDonalds.’

  Miller clicked his tongue. ‘I’d gladly lock Jonno up and throw away the key. Just give me the chance. Don’t have any truck with blokes who use their fists.’

  ‘No, can’t say I warmed to his mates either.’

  ‘Was his brother Steve there? You know, he got expelled from boarding school in Cairns for killing a cat and skinning it. Not sure which came first. None of us were sorry to see him go.’

  ‘You were at school with him?’

  Miller nodded as he continued to stow his equipment into the two carry cases. ‘I was one of the seniors when he arrived as a thirteen-year-old. Might have been the reason I ended up as a cop. One of the kitchen staff used to feed that cat. I heard she’d complained about Steve for something and the next day it was found strung up on the clothesline where they hung the tea towels. He didn’t even deny he’d done it.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Conor was sickened.

  ‘Even so, he was the old man’s favourite.’

  ‘I heard there was a question mark over the old McDonald’s death.’

  Miller turned shrewd eyes on him. ‘Sometimes the evidence isn’t enough.’

  ‘Right.’ Conor looked at the sun. It had to be close to eleven o’clock. ‘So am I good to go then?’

  ‘Yep. I’ll see you around. Able-bodied men are always in demand at times like this.’ He nodded and picked up the two cases. ‘I’ll be in touch once this is all processed. And, ah, thanks for the registration of the Porsche.’

  ‘Great. Happy to help.’

  Miller turned to go and stopped. ‘And on the quiet? Someone’s told Kristy that your identity’s a fake. That you’ve been involved in organised crime.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sorry.’ Miller shrugged. ‘I can guess who, but it’s too late now. Thought you should know. I spoke to Noah just in case he needed to plug any holes.’

  ‘Shit.’ Conor felt the heat of fear burn his skin. They made small talk as Conor ran the policeman ashore. His brain had gone into overdrive. Stay or run? Walk away from Kristy and Abby or stay and fight for them? He hoped to Christ he didn’t run into Joyce. The urge to punch him out was overpowering.

  By the time he got to the PCYC it was in full swing, with people setting up camp stretchers and carting in pallets of supplies. He saw a familiar swing of dark hair. Kristy was lugging a couple of sealed plastic tubs.

  ‘Hey, can I give you a hand?’

  ‘Hey yourself. I’m fine. This is the last load.’ She looked hot, flustered, but mustered a smile.

  ‘Supplies from the hospital?’

  ‘Yep, just in case.’

  He followed her to one of the small offices, where she added them to a stack. ‘Sorry I had to deliver Abby home in a squad car yesterday. Is she okay?’

  Kristy looked at him for a long moment. There was a distance between them today. Who could blame her?

  ‘She’s fine.’ She looked away again. The flirting of yesterday was a distant memory. It felt like a punch to his gut. He didn’t want to see disgust, or worse, fear in her eyes.

  ‘She was beside herself by the time I got home,’ Kristy said. ‘She insisted I bail you out.’

  He laughed. ‘I thought I reassured her it was just a chat.’ His spine relaxed an inch. Maybe Kristy had given him the benefit of the doubt.

  ‘She gets an idea in her head and won’t let go. I rang the station eventually and they assured me you weren’t locked in a cell.’

  ‘You did?’ It warmed him.

  ‘She wouldn’t sleep until I did. Look . . .’ She met his gaze. ‘I know I was full of bravado yesterday, but I can’t do this. I can’t get Abby’s hopes up. If it were just me it might be easier, but it’s not.’ She was blushing now. ‘And . . .’

  He managed to twist his mouth into a grin. ‘Hey, it’s okay. No pressure.’

  ‘Yeah, but . . .’ She looked past him to the busy room behind.

  ‘Kristy, Miller told me you’d heard some stuff about me.’ Her eyes snapped to his, her expression unfathomable.

  He ploughed on, holding her gaze, willing her to believe him. ‘I’d like to say the stories aren’t true, but some of them probably are. It’s that long story I told you about. I’m not proud of my past, but it’s not who I was, nor who I am today. I’d never bring danger into your life. You mean too much to me. You and Abby.’ And it was the truth he’d been avoiding. This woman with her fearless blue eyes and stubborn mouth had crept into his heart, left an aching twisted knot in his stomach at the thought he might not see her again.

  She broke the gaze, looked down and her curtain of hair swung forward. He reached out to tuck it behind her ear and she swayed away.

  ‘I know it’s a big ask to trust me,’ he said, his hand dropping to his side. ‘We need to survive a cyclone first.’

  She nodded, but she still didn’t meet his eyes.

  Conor sighed. ‘Miller said Bill’s in Brisbane.’

  ‘He is and doing better, much better.’

  ‘Good. I’ll make sure the Lady Leonie’s ready to go when he gets back.’

  ‘He’ll appreciate that. Give him a project still. I’d better keep moving.’

  ‘Kristy – I should have told you the whole story.’ His voice croaked with regret. ‘I’m sorry for that. I’ll settle for friends, but I don’t want to be strangers.’

  She shot him a sad smile over her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you round.’

  She disappeared through the doors to the car park and Conor could only watch her go. If only he’d had the courage to tell her earlier.

  24

  Freya pulled over by a bridge on the upper reaches of the Endeavour, hoping the serenity would calm her and wondering what was waiting for her back at Glenview. She no longer thought of it as home.

  On the way out of town she’d driven past Debbie and Danny’s place, but it was locked up. She’d been mulling over Jonno’s accusation that Debbie had talked to Evelyn. Was Debbie really that stupid? Hadn’t Freya provided more than enough information about what chemicals were in the shipments of beer?

  Her phone buzzed. She dug in her bag, figuring it was Jonno.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey, it’s me.’ She recognised Kristy’s voice. ‘Whereabouts are you?’

  Freya glanced around at the deserted gravel patch. ‘I’m almost home with a carful of groceries. Why?’

  ‘Abby called. Sissy’s a mess apparently. Can I do anything?’

  Freya sighed. She should have realised her daughter wasn’t in a fit state to go to school.

  ‘Jonno and I had another fight last night. Sienna got involved and I ended up hitting Jonno with a vase.’ Already guilt sat like a burr in a sock, itching and jabbing at unwary moments. What sort of example had she set for her daughter? The nervous tic in her eyelid wouldn’t stop.

  ‘Damn. He didn’t . . .’

  ‘No, he didn’t touch her, but he’s right royally pissed off. I can’t imagine being stuck with him during a cyclone.’ She swallowed, trying to keep her voice from shaking. ‘It’s bad enough when the road’s cut with the wet season.’

  They were silent for a moment. ‘Stay here with us. All of you,’ Kristy said. ‘I can say that with Buddy’s chest he’d be better off near a hospital.’

  Freya’s hope soared before reality hit again. ‘He’ll never agree. Not after last night. It all started because he couldn’t find the passports. He’d decided to take us for a holiday out of the way of the cyclone.’

  ‘Did he find the passports?’

  ‘No, I’ve hidden them along with the other stuff at the PCYC in that locker Petra’s given me.’

  ‘Right. You know you have friends here. You’re not alone.’

  Freya tried to stifle it, but the sob she’d been hiding so tightly bubbled up in her throat. Kristy’s kindness hurt because she didn’t deserve it. She held the phone away and gulped for air, biting her lip, desperate for control.

  ‘Freya? Freya? Talk to me. Freya!’

/>   ‘I’m here. It’s okay.’ She dragged in a shuddering sigh. ‘I’ll be okay.’

  ‘You know there’s another option.’ Kristy sounded hesitant. ‘My parents’ place is only a couple of hours south-west of here. They run homestays. We could put you in a cabin until this blows over. Jonno would never find you there. And the old place has outlived more cyclones than most.’

  ‘Oh, Kristy, I couldn’t put your parents in that position.’

  ‘It was Mum’s suggestion. She rang to see if Abby and I wanted to go there for the cyclone. The further west, the lower the strength normally, but I can’t leave the hospital. I wouldn’t mind Abby being out of harm’s way though.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Freya shivered. An opportunity. Was she brave enough to grab it?

  ‘You could be there before sunset.’

  ‘The car has a tracker.’

  ‘So park it somewhere and we’ll find you another car.’

  ‘God, why can’t I make this decision, cut the cord? Why do I put up with this shit?’

  ‘Go easy on yourself, Frey. It’s always hard, but don’t leave it too late. The offer’s there. You can always take my car.’

  ‘Thanks, but I couldn’t do that to you. I bought another phone like you suggested.’

  ‘Good. Hon, I’ve got to go, but you know Abby and I are here for you guys. You do have options.’

  ‘Thanks.’ The sob was building in her throat again and she disconnected, leaning back against the leather seat.

  Evelyn had rounded on Freya when they were in the kitchen this morning, accusing her of provoking her son, being a dirty little money-grubbing slut. Freya had stared her down and walked away. Divorce was coming her way and she knew who’d win. They’d cite her sleeping tablets and depression as well as her early career. And she had no money for lawyers. She might have put some money aside, but she knew he’d cut her off without a cent until he was forced to pay.