by Hill, Casey
He leaned over closer, and turned the pages for her. ‘Ah, look at that one.’
This was slightly more identifiable – a lumpy brown animal with four legs, green grass below, blue sky above. ‘Conn drew that – the pony we used to have…’ He thought for a moment. ‘What was that pony’s name? I can’t remember.’
Reilly looked up. ‘They’re lovely.’ She searched for the right words – the ones to move him forwards. With the photographer getting worse and McAllister moving back and forth from fantasy and reality, there was little time to waste now. ‘But you can’t live forever in the past. Children aren’t butterflies, you can’t pin them to a board and expect them to stay there.’
He swayed slightly as he looked down at her. ‘We should not be blinkered by society. Just because the world operates a certain way doesn’t make it right, only those who choose their own path can truly live a blessed life…’ He clasped his hands together and looked into Reilly’s eyes. ‘The world beyond the reality my little herd knows is lost – it was already lost to them before they came to me. The only chance an innocent child has is by being protected from its cancerous touch. That’s my calling, and I’ve seen and heard in you something that tells me it was no mistake that you came to us.’ He suddenly grew very serious, and crouched down level with Reilly, stared into her eyes. ‘It’s not me who has to make a decision, Miss Steel, it’s you. Look into your heart and find the answer … you know these swans will be safest with me. Like Sarah’s mother knew it was better to get her away from the leering eyes of her so-called father.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Reilly said, completely confused. ‘You knew Sarah’s mother?’
‘Of course,’ McAllister replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘She’s my sister.’
Chapter 42
Kennedy nodded towards the door of the trailer to indicate for Chris to follow him.
Outside he puffed at his freshly lit cigarette. ‘Well, what do you reckon on surfer boy?’
Chris snorted. ‘Let’s say we agree to disagree.’
‘So he’s running the show, and we’re shut out?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Was it his idea for Reilly to go in alone?’
‘His, hers. You know what she’s like when she’s got the bit between her teeth. Thinks she can save the world.’
‘She’s pretty hard to say no to once she’s made up her mind, that’s for sure.’ Kennedy dropped his cigarette after only three or four long pulls, and stubbed it out with his foot. ‘I don’t like it though.’
‘Me neither, and I really don’t like sitting around waiting for—’
They were interrupted by the ringing of Chris’s mobile. ‘It’s the lab,’ he told Kennedy, answering. ‘Delaney here. Hi, Julius. No, she’s … unavailable at the moment. Anything I can help you with?’
He listened for a couple of minutes and then looked at Kennedy, his face changing. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’
His partner gave him a questioning look.
‘OK, thanks. I’ll follow up on it.’
When he clicked off, Kennedy spoke. ‘So what was all that about?’
‘I’m not sure what it means yet,’ Chris replied, frowning, ‘but it seems our information is bad … we’ve got the timeline all wrong on this somehow.’
‘What do you …’ The rest of his sentence was cut off by a shout from one of the officers nearby.
‘Heads up, somebody’s coming out of the building!’
Chris ran down to the perimeter, closely followed by Kennedy.
Staggering down the drive was a man wearing no trousers, blood running down one side of his left leg, as he limped and looked around, confused. Several times he lost his footing on the loose gravel as he tried to pick up the pace.
‘The photographer … Reilly must have convinced McAllister to let him go,’ Kennedy said.
Chris breathed a relieved sigh. ‘Which hopefully means this is almost over.’
Back in the trailer, Steve Jacobs reached for the radio and pressed the answer button.
‘Mr McAllister, how is everything?’
‘This is not a social call, Jacobs, just do what I say,’ McAllister bellowed down the radio, clearly irate. ‘Listen very carefully. I want you to have one person drive a van up here, back it up close to the door, and leave the keys in the ignition. No games, I’ll have my sights on it. My family and I are leaving now, and we do not expect to be followed. My little swans don’t like it here. We want to go home…’
Jacobs’s voice was calm and measured. ‘We’ll get somebody working on that right now. It’ll take a few minutes though. Can you put Reilly on the line so we can organize the details?’
The radio clicked off.
‘Damn…’
‘What did that photographer say, what’s happening up there?’ O’Brien demanded as Kennedy and Chris reappeared in the trailer.
‘We haven’t been able to talk to him,’ Kennedy said. ‘Paramedics are with him at the moment, and he looks in poor shape.’
‘I want somebody out there now to see what they can get out of him. And then I want him arrested and charged!’ O’Brien spat, venting his anger and venom at the easiest target.
‘Have you heard anything from Reilly?’ Chris asked Jacobs, who shook his head. Chris turned to O’Brien, his jaw clenched. ‘Sir, this has gone on long enough. We need to get a team in there.’
‘Detective, might I suggest we buy some time, play along, tell him the van is on the way?’ Jacobs said, holding the radio.
‘Chris is right, the time for talking is over,’ Kennedy agreed, looking at Nolan, the ARU chief, hoping he would step in with a suggestion.
Nolan nodded. ‘I have to agree with the detectives. This has gone on long enough. We need to act.’
‘Any suggestions about how we should act?’ O’Brien blustered. ‘We have a senior investigator in there as a hostage.’
‘Sir, can I make a suggestion…’ Jacobs began, before getting abruptly shot down by Chris.
‘Stay out of this, Jacobs, the talk shop is shut. All you’ve done is sit around here talking crap, and sent one of us in to do your job.’ Chris’s face flashed angrily.
‘What’s your suggestion, Jacobs?’ O’Brien asked, ignoring Chris.
‘Reilly and the children’s safety is our ultimate priority now, and if we just charge up there, who knows how it will end? So I was thinking… we give McAllister what he wants.’
‘That’s it? That’s your brainwave?’ Chris yelled, and Kennedy put his hand on his arm to calm him down.
O’Brien shook his head. ‘We give him the van and then what? He takes off home…back to the lake or Tir Na Nog or wherever the hell he thinks home is… we’d be back to square one.’
‘Not quite,’ said Jacobs. ‘My thinking is that we send him a Trojan horse. Give him his van but with a surprise inside.’
They all contemplated the suggestion.
‘It’s the only way to get my men up there safely without arousing any suspicions,’ Nolan agreed. ‘We put a four-man tactical team in the van, back it up good and tight to the door, and use two men on the flanks with two others in the back. When we get a visual we either take him down, or get him out.’
O’Brien massaged his temples. ‘OK set it up. Jacobs, get back on the radio. Tell McAllister his van is on the way, and ask to speak to Reilly again.’
It was risky and a lot could go wrong, but right then it was all they had.
Reilly could feel the water churning above her.
Few women surfed at Maverick’s; it was a potential graveyard. The ocean swell that had charged thousand of miles through the ring of fire and then crashed into the sharp continental shelf south of San Francisco made it a must for elite surfers.
Or those with a death wish.
Reilly fell into the second category. Witnessing so much suffering, so much death had left a void, a chasm that would temporarily vanish when faced with her own mo
rtality. Life or death.
It was just her versus nature, and as the gurgling monster of the Pacific ocean hammered over her, her board was dragged one way and her body the other as her tether cord reached its elastic limit.
More water pounded in – which way was up, which way was down, Reilly didn’t know, but she also knew there was no point in panicking.
The next wave struck, sending her board back towards her like a bullet, the rear edge hitting her on the head with all the force the ocean could muster. The pain struck first, then silence and finally the blackness. Mother Nature was winning. Her body was limp and relaxed, floating. She felt a tight grip on her arm, tugging, shaking her …
‘Come on, time to go. You have been chosen to help me.’
Reilly’s head throbbed as she came to. Where was she? She struggled to open her eyes, but it was as though they were made of lead. Searing pain shot through her temple.
‘Miss Steel, wake up now, the time has come for us to return. You can come with us; you will have true peace.’
Reilly slowly remembered what had happened. She kept her eyes shut.
How long had she been out? What had happened to O’Connor? She remembered him trying to make a run for it while she and McAllister were talking ... but everything had happened so fast after that she wasn’t sure … Had he got out? Or had McAllister …?
Jolted upright by a strong grip, she opened her eyes and groaned in response.
‘Ah good, you’re awake.’ McAllister returned to the window and the radio crackled to life.
‘Mr McAllister, the van has arrived.’ Reilly heard Jacobs’s voice but wasn’t sure what was going on … Was McAllister surrendering? ‘We are going to cut the chain on the gate so the driver can drive up.’
He reached for the radio. ‘OK, but remember I can see everything from here, don’t try to trick me.’
‘What’s going on, where are you going?’ Reilly asked as she stood up for the first time.
Blood immediately rushed to her brain and stars appeared before her eyes. She bowed her head, thinking she would faint. A wave of nausea hit, and she vomited on the floor beside the table, unable hold it in.
McAllister walked towards her, seeing her knees tremble with the weakness.
‘Come, come, sit, I’ll get you a drink.’
He hooked her under the arm to support her, placing the gun on the table. Reilly saw it through watering eyes. It was now or never. She took a deep breath, and wiped her eyes.
‘Here, let me—’
Then summoning every ounce of energy she had, Reilly charged into McAllister, catching him completely by surprise. He lurched sideways, trying to keep his legs under him but became entangled with a chair and crashed to the ground.
Reilly grabbed the gun from the table.
‘Don’t move,’ she commanded, as he tried to get back on his feet. ‘It’s over, stay right there. I will use this, don’t let the children bear witness to your death. I will fire …’ she warned again.
He looked up at her, got slowly to his feet then put his hands in the air.
‘Move over there towards the door,’ Reilly said as she reached for the radio. Outside, the bang of the van door startled them both.
Jacobs’s voice cracked through the radio. ‘OK, Mr McAllister, the van is outside, the driver’s on his way back. Now we need something in return, let me speak with Ms —’
She grabbed the radio. ‘Jacobs, it’s me, I have him, get somebody up here!’ she cried breathlessly.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine, just get somebody —’
There was a loud crash, then a bang and Reilly felt herself sailing through the air.
She heard the ARU officer shouting something in the distance. ‘Team Trojan, go! Suspect disarmed, secure and confirm!’
The back doors of the van burst open as the armed unit flew out and charged the door. The first two officers entered, guns raised.
Coming into the room they saw Reilly on her back struggling to sit up from where she’d landed after McAllister had charged.
‘The gun…’
One of the officers secured the weapon while the other stood over the injured McAllister. He unclipped his radio and called the trailer. ‘Suspect down and injured, officer injured, send in paramedics.’
Just then, Chris and Kennedy rushed through the door.
‘Reilly, are you OK? Jesus… are you hit?’ Chris asked, helping her to her feet.
‘I’m OK, he charged me … I think the gun went off … is he …?’
‘Don’t worry about that, here, sit down.’ Chris ushered her to a nearby chair and she was grateful for the strength of his arms around her.
‘Ms Steel, can you confirm the suspect was alone?’ one of the ARU officers asked.
‘Yes, there was a photographer here as well … I don’t know where he is now. He tried to get out, and McAllister went ballistic. He cracked me in the head with the gun, I think. I don’t know what happened after that.’
‘Where are the kids? Have you seen them?’ Chris asked.
‘Out back somewhere, I think. I’m not sure,’ Reilly said, as she sat forward on the chair, her hands starting to shake as the adrenaline began to wear off.
‘I’ll go take a look.’ Kennedy walked towards the other door.
The paramedics rushed in to check on Reilly and treat McAllister.
‘Was he hit?’ Chris asked.
‘Yes. He’s lost some blood, but the pellets seem to have missed any major organs or arteries,’ he confirmed as McAllister let out a loud groan and tried to move.
‘I want him sedated.’
‘I’m not authorized to do that, sir.’
‘Well then, I’ll sort it while you get authorization,’ Chris growled, as he bent down and unceremoniously pulled McAllister’s hands behind his back. The man screamed out in pain as the pellets embedded in his shoulder rubbed against bone.
Chris’s gaze rested again on Reilly. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘I—’
Right then, Kennedy hurried back into the room. ‘Reilly?’ he said, looking perplexed. ‘There’s nobody else here.’
Chapter 43
While all the outbuildings were being searched to try and locate the children, McAllister was taken to the nearest police station for questioning.
The bare walls of the holding cell were painted a dingy yellow, the camera lurking in the corner the only decoration of any kind.
McAllister barely moved when Chris and Kennedy walked in. His eyes were still red-rimmed, and he had a fierce anger inside.
‘Where are the children, McAllister?’ Chris sat in the chair across from him, Kennedy in another chair to the side.
McAllister considered the question for a moment. ‘I’m thirsty.’
‘The game is over,’ Kennedy said. ‘I suggest you start cooperating. Where are the kids?’
‘My children are safe; away from prying eyes and wickedness.’
‘They are not your children,’ Chris shot back angrily. ‘You abducted them, brainwashed them. You attacked a member of the public as well as an officer. You’re in a whole word of trouble, McAllister, so I suggest you start answering some of our questions.’
McAllister gazed up at the camera. ‘Are we on tape?’
‘All interviews are recorded. McAllister, where are the girls? For the sake of their families …’
‘They have a family, I am their father,’ he snapped. ‘You people, in your wisdom, decided that the family they already had didn’t fit your narrow definition of what was acceptable.’
‘Forget the word games,’ Chris said. ‘Those children have families, real parents who love them, who miss them …’
‘Don’t talk to me with your foolishness, you don’t know what you speak of.’
Kennedy crossed his arms across his chest. ‘OK, we have all the time in the world here. We can wait as long as it takes for you to start cooperating, but I’m not sure the children can
,’ he said, trying to switch the focus to them.
‘It’s only a matter of time before our people find them,’ Chris said, hoping he was right. ‘No matter what happens, this is over, there’s no going back now, and once we find them, we will find their parents too. You not cooperating does nobody any favors, least of all the children … their time with you is over. We need to return them to—’
‘Their families?’ He lifted his head, and spat the word at them. ‘Their families? Do you have any idea what their families were like? Why don’t you ask Lisa about the beatings she got from her father when he was drunk? Ask Eve about all those “uncles” sneaking into her bed when her mother was passed out on the couch? Or Julie – running around without a coat in winter, hanging out at the playground instead of going to school because she was too embarrassed about not having a clean uniform to wear?’
He sat up, eyes blazing, and stared at both of them. ‘You think I picked these children at random? You think they were happy little things who missed their mummies and daddies? I’ve spent my life helping children like that, and my wife and I did great work until people like you decided to take it all away from me.’
Chris met Kennedy’s eye. What was he talking about?
‘I did them a favor, I was called upon to save them, and now you with your self-righteous meddling are trying to take them away from the only happy, safe family they’ve ever had.’
McAllister’s words had Chris floundering.
He had seen what he had created. Yes, it was a fantasy built on lies, but it was serene, peaceful, and in any other circumstances would be a wonderful place for kids to grow up. But when all was said and done, it was not reality, and it could never last.
‘What do you mean, you and your wife? I thought your family was dead?’
There was a flicker of something across his face. ‘My wife was taken from me. We were never blessed with children.’
What the …?
Chris stood up. Kennedy nodded. The background information they’d been given by the locals was wrong. This coupled with what Julius had said about Sarah Forde needed immediate investigation.
