Don't Look Back (Warders of Earth) (13 page)

BOOK: Don't Look Back (Warders of Earth)
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“…and when I see my father I’m going to strangle him!”

Em giggled at my disgruntled tone. “You don’t know that he was the one to leaked the news out.”

“No, but I do know him. He’s like a vigilante for the truth.” I blew on my hot drink.

“But what if he was right? What if that storm were caused by the meteors? It’s not as if the weather bureau had any warning it was going to form. Oh God!” Em pressed her fingers to her face and stared in horror. “What if something terrible is going to happen? Oh Tara, I don’t want to be a statistic!”

“Come on, Em. It’s just a storm. The weather bureau on the radio called it a super-cell thunderstorm and apparently it’s not an unusual occurrence. It’s just a coincidence it happened now when there’s all this hype about that meteor shower.” I fielded the
‘oh yeah right’
look Em shot at me. “First thing in the morning, we’ll talk to the police and they’ll start a proper search for your mum. I’m certain the power will be back on by then and we’ll post some queries on social media.”

“No, no police.” Em’s voice was sharp. “Dad doesn’t want them involved.”

Why? It was the most logical thing to do.
I cast her a wary glance over the rim of my mug noting how her face had hardened chasing all the little-girl prettiness from her features. She looked older, more determined with all warmth missing from her eyes. But the corners of her mouth were turned up in a tiny smile.

“I guess it’s your call,” I said slowly. Fatigue slammed into me and I yawned. If both Em and her adoptive father didn’t want the police involved than perhaps the reason her adoptive mother had disappeared
was
as simple as a domestic argument. But still, I didn’t understand. One minute Em acted like her adoptive mother was dead in a gutter and then she did a complete turnaround.

As if tuned into my thoughts, Em said, “It’s probably nothing. I bet Mum’s taken off to her favourite spa to have a break from Dad.”

Her blue eyes flicked to me and back to inspect the dregs of her cup. “After this natural disaster, I know nothing will hold Dad back from running with the story about the meteor shower. I’m scared, Tara. It’s like a bad dream I can’t wake from and I can’t help worrying about where it’s all going to end.”

“I know. I feel exactly the same.” I grabbed the empty mugs and trudged to the kitchen. Out of sight, I palmed my mobile and texted Marnie. I waited.

And waited.

Still no response.

Where was she?

 

Chapter 9 – MYSTERY MEN

 

At least it had stopped raining. I peered out the kitchen window as I washed the last of the dishes. The sky remained overcast with heavy grey clouds dulling the day but the storm had done little to alleviate the heat.

Water lay everywhere. Our low-lying backyard lay three centimetres under water but thankfully the chickens were all fine. Perched in their hen house on the highest shelf they’d squawked indignantly and fluttered damp feathers when I’d checked on them. I hadn’t had time to suss out the vegetable garden and made a mental note to add it to my list of
‘must-do’s.’

On the street out front deep potholes had formed and were full of water. Power had yet to be restored but it’d been fun cooking breakfast on the small gas stove Bob had brought over last night.

The first thing I’d done this morning was check for messages. Nothing from Marnie. I decided it was time I checked her grandmother’s house again. Maybe Marnie’s mobile was on the blink. If she wasn’t there, maybe I could speak with her grandmother.

But I still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread weighing me down.
I needed answers soon or I’d go crazy.

Footsteps tramped down the side path. I glanced out the window again and spied my mother heading for the side-gate. A pile of clean, neatly folded linen lay in her arms. She kneed open the gate and disappeared round the side of their neighbour’s house. Trust Mum, always thinking of others.

Looked like I’d have to wait. Tonight. It was time I stopped burying my head in the sand. I needed to work out what, if any of her wild ideas were real. “As soon as dinner is over, Mum and I are going to have a chat.”

“Chat about what?”

I spun round to see Em standing in the doorway, smiling and dressed in a cotton candy-pink sundress and wearing makeup.

“Nothing, Em. I was thinking out loud.”

She considered me for a moment before saying brightly, “You know what they say.” She giggled.

“Are you going somewhere?” I indicated her clothes before glancing down at my faded cargo shorts, white tee-shirt and bare feet.

“I thought I’d look in on Dad.” Em gave a casual shrug. “See if he’s heard from Mum. It is awkward. I still find it hard to believe she left without a word to me. You know, I never felt as if they were my parents, Tara. But I did think that we were friends, Sheila and I. It’s hard for me to accept she left no note. As for my so-called father – at best, we had this polite relationship. I often wondered why they ever adopted me.”

Had she always thought of her adoptive mother as
‘Sheila’
or was this something new to distance herself from the hurt she must be feeling?
Just last night, she hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near her adoptive father.

I didn’t understand any of this so I remained silent, remembering all those times when I’d been envious of Em and her family; the same family I’d thought to be so perfect.

Nothing was as it seemed, these days.

“I’ll come with you,” I said quickly, thinking she might need some emotional support. 

“Sure.” Em sounded offhand and made me wonder whether she wanted me there or not.

“When are you heading back to uni?”

“I’m not certain.” She examined her nails. “I think I’ll take leave of absence for a week or two.”

“Won’t that put you behind?”

Em shrugged. “I’ll catch up and if I don’t I’ll redo the course next semester. What about you, shouldn’t you be heading off to your class?”

“A tree went through the roof of the admin section. All classes have been postponed for a week. Not that we had much left to do. Phil intended to hand out our results and get us to do one last essay.”

“I guess you’ve still got another month before your trade-course begins.”

I frowned. Somehow my goal of learning a trade had faded, as if it were someone else’s dream.

“Hello? Are you in there?” Em did an exaggerated eye roll as I stared into the distance and worried over this latest revelation. “Let’s talk about something important. Like where’s Alex?”

“How should I know?” I picked up a pile of clean plates and stowed them inside a cupboard.

Em raised a brow. “Cranky pants. You have to admit, Tara, that he is seriously hot.”

“Maybe. If you go for that macho, he-man of the hour routine.” My tummy did a jellyroll as an image of Alex striding past with a log balanced on his shoulder flashed into my head.

“You can’t fool your bestie. I know you like him.”

“Em, I barely know the guy. I’m not blind. I can see he’s good looking and got a great body. So what?” No need to mention how much his smile made my knees go all gooey.

“Then you won’t mind if I make a play for him.” Em turned round and added over her shoulder, “I’ll text him and see if he’ll pick us up.”

Something twisted painfully inside my chest. I forced myself to sound normal. “You have his phone number?”

“Well, duh,” came Em’s voice floating down the hallway.

I fingered the edge of my tee-shirt. Should I change?
Heat bloomed over my face.
Stuff it.
I’d wear what I had on. What was the point in attempting to impress Alex? My best friend had staked her claim.

The thought left a sour taste in my mouth.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I wandered out to the hall to look for a pair of canvas shoes.

Em stood on the porch, talking on her mobile. When she saw me, she smiled and ended the call. “He’s on his way.”

“Good.”

An awkward silence fell between us. I used the time while we waited to pull on my shoes. Tying my laces, I slid a glance up at my friend who was humming and had an air of barely repressed excitement shimmering about her. I thought she’d be more worried about her adoptive mother. I guess there was nothing like a guy to make the day shine brighter.

A late model Holden V8 pulled up outside my house. I eyed the bristling array of antennas, the racing spoilers and heard the thrumming rumble of its engine. That was some car.

Alex sat in the driver’s seat sporting a pair of aviator glasses that successfully masked the expression in his eyes. His friend, Shay, also wearing a pair of similar shades, sat in the passenger seat. There was someone in the back but I couldn’t make out who it was.

Feeling a bit like a third wheel, I followed Em who ran down the path, giving little squeals as water sloshed over her high-heeled sandals. She leaned in through the open passenger window, giggling in her high girlish voice. Straightening, she opened the rear door and slipped inside.

I followed suit, accidentally slamming the door shut.

“Hi”, I mumbled in general. Fumbling with my seat belt I looked around and found my brother squished in the corner, grinning.

“Dan? What are you doing here?”

“Just hanging,” he said. “We’re taking a break from working with the SES crew. We’ve got an hour. Alex suggested we grab a bite to eat before heading back.”

“Sounds like a fabulous idea. We’ll go to the café together later.” Em scooted forward to the edge of the back seat to lean over the Alex’s shoulder.

“Leather seats,” she purred, running her hand back and forth along the top of the seat. “They look so comfortable.”

“Uh huh. Sit back and belt up.” Alex turned and speared me with a sharp glance over the top of his shades, nodding when he saw my seat belt was already fastened.

“I like a man who is protective.” Em bounced back into the seat and snapped on her belt.

I elbowed her in the ribs and whispered, “Try controlling.”

“He can hear you,” she sang sweetly and I cringed.

“So where are we going?” asked Alex, changing gear and expertly dodging a fallen tree branch without slowing the car’s speed.

“First stop is Dad’s office. It’s on the main street, you can’t miss it. He owns the regional newspaper.” Her voice was smug.

I hunched further into the corner. Em hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she intended to make a play for Alex. My friend was giving it everything she had, flattery, lots of smiles and fluttering eyelashes every time she caught his gaze in the rear vision mirror. It was embarrassing.

And irritating.

Somehow it made me feel alone. Confused, I blurted, “Em’s mum is missing.”

“Say what?” Shay turned his head to stare at us.

“Tara! You promised.” Em’s voice was shrill with accusation.

“They have to know sometime,” I defended myself. “This way we’ll have more people to help with a proper search.”

“It’s no big deal. Mum’s gone off to a spa.”

“But last night...” I began, wondering whether I was hearing right.

She cut in quickly. “Last night was last night. I was upset she hadn’t told me but on thinking it through, I can’t see that there’d be any other possibility.”

“Maybe she’s got a boyfriend,” said Shay. Craning his head round, he met my eyes and winked.

“No way,” said Em with heavy emphasis and turning a shoulder to me. She then engaged Alex in a conversation that totally excluded every other person in the car, mainly drilling him about where he lived previously, what he liked to do in his spare time. Alex kept his answers short, almost brusque but nothing deterred Em when she was on a roll.

“Seriously?” she squealed. “You’re a uni student like me? We have such a lot in common.” She shafted me with a triumphant glance.

Sounding hunted, Alex said, “I’ve taken leave from my engineering studies for a while until I’ve sorted things out here.”

“That’s so sweet, helping your Dad out like this,” cooed Em.

“Not really. I always keep my word.”

I frowned. Hadn’t Alex said something similar to me?

She bounced in her seat. “Here we are, Alex. Pull in behind that blue sedan.”

“No worries.”

As soon as the car stopped, I was out the door and on the pavement as if the Hound of the Baskervilles was on my tail.

A lot of shop owners were still cleaning up from the storm. Some were busy sweeping debris, broken glass, mud and branches off the footpath. Across the road, two men manoeuvred a wide plate-glass window off a truck while the butcher issued directions. Rubbish piles were stacked neatly along the street. Several men were crawling about the roof of the pub and hammering in replacement sheets of colorbond. The sound of an electric drill from further down the road indicated power had been restored.

A horn tooted.

My brother lifted a hand and waved as he joined my side. “Did you see that, Sis? Looks like the Johnsons are leaving town. I wonder why?”

I had no answer as I watched the car go past. Boxes and suitcases were lashed to the roof and the car towed an equally over-laden trailer.

“This way everyone,” called Em gaily.

“What’s with your friend making the moves on Alex?” Dan muttered, sending a dark glance at Em as she linked her arm through Alex’s and sauntered toward the door of the newspaper office.

“She likes him.”

“So? I thought...you know...” Dan shoved his hands in his pockets. “You and Alex...”

My stomach lurched. I spluttered, “What gave you that idea? I hardly know him.”

“I think he likes you. He’s asked a lot of questions about you.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Just stuff.”

I remembered the conversation I overhead in the car on the way to the medical centre and caught his arm as he went to follow the others into the building. “About us? About where we’ve lived? Anything about Mum and Dad?”

My brother pulled out of my grasp. “Leave off. I’m not an idiot. Jeez Sis, forget I ever said anything.” He hurried off.

Could Alex really be attracted to me? Then his father’s words blared inside my mind. Mr Garroway had said something about seeing to the mother.

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