Half Moon Bay (10 page)

Alex heard Ellie’s footsteps up the short back stairs and cocked his head. Too heavy. Something was up. A moment later, what sounded like a surfboard clattered against the back wall and Ellie swore. Definitely not having a good morning. He got to his feet and pressed the automatic coffee machine on. Caffeine always made the world brighter.

‘Hey, babe, coffee, toast?’ he called out.

‘You’re awake? Coffee. Thanks.’

She came into the kitchen peeling her wetsuit down to her waist. He couldn’t stop the quick appreciative whistle. Lugging cameras gave the lady great muscle tone and the one-piece swimsuit hid nothing.

She pulled a face. ‘Alex.’

He grinned. ‘Eleanor.’

‘Don’t. No one calls me that any more. What time did you get up?’

‘Half an hour ago. Went to the village for a paper. They only had yesterday’s.’

‘Takes time for news to travel this far. Get it online.’ She came and stood beside him as he poured milk into the mug.

‘Yeah, but I’ll always love the smell of newspaper and ink. I’m an old-fashioned journalist.’

‘You’re a child of the internet revolution, buddy. You’re only ten years older than me.’

‘I’m not. Eight, but who’s counting?’

‘I am. Besides, everything we did at uni was on computers.’

The arrow of dismay settled in the pit of his stomach. She kept brushing him off and it hurt like hell. At least there was no one else.

‘Yeah, but I’m a throwback to the great journalists. Malcolm Brown and his ilk.’

Ellie snorted. ‘And Clark Kent as well, huh?’

He handed over the coffee, holding it a moment to make her look at him. ‘Only if you’ll be my Lois.’

‘Oh, Alex, give it a rest. I’ve had enough bullshit this morning to last all week.’

‘What have I done now?’

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. ‘Nothing. I ran into Lawson in the surf. I’m sure there’s something else going on. I found a gun in the back of his car.’

‘A gun? What the bloody hell were you doing in the back of his car?’ Alex was waiting for a call back from his contact in Defence. This made getting an answer even more urgent.

‘Long story, but I was looking for a first-aid kit and found the gun in a holster. I think it was an ankle holster so that would make it a concealed firearm.’

‘Shit. What did he say?’

‘I didn’t tell him, but I did accuse him of being into something illegal on the drive home.’

‘Drive home?’

‘I couldn’t afford to be late this morning.’

‘No, of course not.’ None of this was making any sense, but Ellie didn’t look in the mood for questions either. ‘Fill me in over breakfast? Bacon and eggs?’

She shook her head, looking weary. ‘I’ll see how much time I have after a shower.’

He turned a slow three-sixty in the small kitchen after she’d walked out, looking up at the ceiling. Lawson had a concealable gun. That wasn’t in itself a crime, but who carried weapons in Australia? Being ex-military made it slightly more likely, but he’d still need a permit and a reason. And if he didn’t, then it was illegal and that was a whole new ball game.

His phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. Text message from Sammie.
Teisha with u??? Not answering her phone.

He typed a reply.
No, she stayed in Sydney. Probably forgot to charge it.

The reply shot back.
MayB . . . No show for brunch y2dy 2 . . .

Alex tapped the phone on his thigh. That was out of character and Teisha hadn’t answered any of his messages. He’d assumed she was sulking.

He dialled and the newsroom phone was picked up immediately.

‘Jan speaking.’

‘Hiya, it’s Alex.’

‘Mate, how are you? How’s the coast?’

‘Yeah, good. Can you put me through to Teisha? I keep being shunted to voicemail.’

‘Sorry, she’s not showed up for work today either. The boss is pissed.’

‘Really.’ Alex sat down. ‘She didn’t ring in?’

‘Nope.’

‘Shit. I hope she’s all right. I’ll be home later, but can you send someone to stop by her place and mine? I haven’t heard from her all weekend.’

‘Sure. I’ll swing past on the way to a job this morning. What about her mobile?’

‘Everything’s going to voicemail.’

‘Okay. She’s probably lost her phone.’ Jan’s voice did nothing to reassure him.

‘Right.’

He hung up and ran his hand around his throat. What the fuck was going on? He logged his computer onto Facebook and checked Teisha’s status. Nothing since a photo of her and Sammie was posted on Friday night.

‘Who’s that?’ Ellie leant over his shoulder, tugging a comb through her hair. ‘Looks like a wild night.’

He closed the browser. ‘A colleague who’s failed to show up for work two days in a row.’

‘So why are you checking?’

‘The paper rang me to see if I knew where she was.’ He got to his feet to carry his mug to the sink. ‘Thought I might have brought her along on this trip.’

‘Right.’ Ellie’s inflection cut to the bone.

‘It’s not like that.’ He hated sounding defensive, but right now he was worried and his guard was down.

‘Alex, someone told me you had a girlfriend called Teisha and that she’d moved in with you. Can’t be too many Teishas on your Facebook friends’ list.’

‘It’s over, Ellie. It should never have started. I was drunk, she was available and I’m an idiot.’

‘No need to explain to me.’ She touched his shoulder. ‘Does she know it’s over? Is that what her disappearance is about? Could she be . . .?’

‘Suicidal?’ he supplied with a shake of denial. ‘No, she’s got too much life in her for that. She might suspect I’m leaving, but I was waiting until I got back from here.’ He knew he sounded miserable, but the words came out of their own accord.

‘Oh, Alex.’ He saw the recognition and the distress in her face. ‘I’m sorry. Honestly, I thought you were just flirting with me, not serious. Is that why you’re here? Because of something between us, not the story at all?’

‘I’m not that pathetic. The story has potential, but when you called, I thought . . . I hoped . . .’

‘I’m sorry.’ Ellie kept her distance now, arms folded across her chest. ‘I would never lead you on. I thought you and Nina were an item. You’ll always be a brother, Alex, part of my life with Nina, and that’s way more important than being a boyfriend. God knows the life expectancy of any relationship with me is about six months.’ Her laugh was brittle and her eyes were glassy.

‘I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to put the hard word on you.’

‘It’s okay.’ She drained her coffee. ‘I’ve got to run, but we need to talk more. I couldn’t bear to lose you, Alex. I hope Teisha’s okay. See you at the council chambers later?’

He felt like howling as she left the room.

There. She’d said it. She simply wasn’t interested.

Half an hour later he was still brooding on the verandah when his phone rang. ‘Hello.’

‘Alex, it’s Jan. There’s a problem at your house. It’s been trashed. What do you want me to do?’

‘Fuckin’ hell!’

‘Do you want me to call the cops?’

‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’

‘There’s a message in lipstick on the fridge. “U R cheating on me”. I thought maybe it wasn’t a break-in at all.’

‘Fuck.’ He swore again and shot to his feet. ‘Are there any messages on my answering machine?’

‘Ah . . .’ He could hear her moving, sounded like she was walking over broken glass. ‘The light’s flashing. Do you want me to listen to it?’

‘Yes, of course.’ He knew his voice sounded odd.

‘Here. I’ll hold the phone down so you can hear it.’

According to the automated voice the first message had been received on Saturday morning at five a.m. Alex felt the hairs on the back of his neck go vertical as Teisha’s voice came down the line. ‘Alex? It’s me. What game are you playing? Alex, pick up the phone, you cheating tosser!’ There was a squeal, then the message ended. He heard Jan swearing.

The second message started to play, received Sunday morning, six a.m. ‘Hello Alex, it’s Lachlan. It’s time we talked. Teisha sends her love. I’ll be in touch.’ The man’s mild tone, the deceptively gentle words, made bile rise up Alex’s throat.

‘Did you hear that, Alex? What’s Teisha doing? Who’s this Lachlan?’

‘Her new boyfriend, I think. Found him on her Facebook page.’ The lie came easily.

‘The cops are going to be interested in that. What was she thinking, trashing your place?’

‘I’ve no idea. Can you lock the front door or is it damaged?’

‘I’ll check.’ He heard her heels clicking on the floor. ‘The lock’s fine. What do you want me to do?’

‘Just pull the door closed. If Teisha’s gone on a rampage, I don’t want that being aired in public. I’ve been a bit of a prick. She probably guessed it was over between us.’

‘Shit, Alex, you certainly know how to screw up your private life. You sure you don’t want to report it to the police? This is serious.’

‘I’m positive. Shut the place up and I’ll be home this afternoon to sort it out. Can you do me a favour when you get back to work?’

‘Sure.’

‘There are a couple of USBs and a portable hard drive in my drawer. Put them somewhere safe, just in case Teisha turns up there.’

‘She bloody well better not try anything at work. I’ll have security haul her out. This is bullshit, Alex.’

‘I know. I’m sorry to involve you in it, Jan. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow in the office.’

He rang off and stood staring into space. Was Teisha being coerced or was she part of Lachlan’s team? Had she been playing him all along?

The walk through the council chambers did nothing to calm Ellie. Being in the building again brought a wave of irrational anger crashing down on her. She was sure Nicholas Lawson would be there today. She stopped as she entered the main chamber, took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Keep him in perspective. Concentrate on the presentation.

With her pulse slowing, she let out her breath and glanced about her with affection. As a primary school student she’d come to the council chambers to experience democracy at work. Enthralled by the sense of occasion, she’d been seriously disillusioned to discover politicians had appalling manners. When a councillor threw the first ball of screwed-up paper across the chamber, the class had twittered like starlings on the wire.

That night Ellie had looked to her parents for reassurance. Instead she’d been met by the gruff humour of her dad and her mother’s gentle sarcasm. So much for democracy.

With regret, she realised it was one of her last memories of her mum. She suspected that many of her memories were really Nina’s and her father’s handed down to her. Those memories were inundating her now. The bout of nostalgia was so vivid that Ellie had to shake her head to clear the voices.

Focus, she needed to focus.

She repositioned two of the tables and hung the screen to give everyone the best view. The public gallery would be packed today and, while she knew her photos would not be as impressive from that distance, she still needed to include them in today’s performance, not just the wavering councillors. Once the projector was connected to her laptop she started the slide show, moving it back to create the largest image as the photos rolled.

Ellie’s grandfather had also been a photographer. He’d captured images of Australia over seven decades. She’d drawn together a collage using photos from the 1950s when her grandparents had first moved to Half Moon Bay, as well as her own more recent works, and some from Ron.

The shots of towering sand dunes on the mid-north New South Wales coast collided with ugly images of fish floating belly up, poisoned by contaminated water overflowing from facilities not large enough to cope with the demands of a growing population. Aerial shots of sand blows moving inland, leaving bleached skeletal remains of once tall eucalyptus and ironbark trees, were contrasted against earlier photos taken before human intervention opened the way for erosion.

Her eyes burned at the memory of Nina banking the Cessna hard so she could capture those later photographs. It all started when Nina flew home from university with a new conquest who was training to be a pilot. He’d taken Ellie for a joy flight over the Bay and she’d been hooked. Tom had never been able to say no to his girls, so over the next two years they both completed training for their private pilot licence. He’d even chipped in half the cost when Nina found a Cessna 172 for sale. Owned by a retired airline captain, the aircraft was old but immaculate and the price was surprisingly low.

For Ellie it opened up a whole new dimension of photography – a birds-eye view. She’d got quite good at trimming the controls so she could fly solo and still hang out a window to snap a shot. The happiest times though were when Nina flew and she could shoot.

The aircraft still languished in a hangar on Palmer Island at the McIntyre airstrip. The caretaker looked after it, but she should make arrangements to sell it. She couldn’t bring herself to fly it without Nina. Too many memories.

Ron’s images of drunken revellers at last year’s New Year’s Eve dragged her back to the moment. The last of the photos clicked over to a serene sunset taken from the water, a line of surfers waiting for the last of the day’s waves, with the rising hills a dark backdrop. Her message was simple. They’d chosen this place for its natural beauty and quiet lifestyle. Did they want to allow the council to sell out? Did they want to see wilderness sold by elected officials and then destroyed?

She felt a tremor through her body at the reminder of Nicholas Lawson’s dominant presence. No man had ever disturbed her so instantly. She was attracted against her better judgement and annoyed that he muddied the clarity of her mind.

Her career had kept her too busy to squeeze in anything more than casual boyfriends. At uni she was one of the boys, studying, playing sport and surfing. Maybe working so closely with a sister as beautiful as Nina meant she’d always seen herself as plain, boyish even. She certainly wasn’t alluring enough to capture the attention of a man like Nicholas Lawson and yet she’d seen interest in his eyes. Was he just toying with her?

She continued laying out cables for the portable speaker. What would Nina do? The tune from her mobile phone brought her back to the present.

‘Hi, Alex, where are you?’

‘I’m just leaving your house. But I’ve done some digging on Nick Lawson.’

‘Really?’ Her frown deepened.

‘Lawson is ex-army. Resigned two years ago.’

‘Really? Where did he serve? Do you have a photograph?’ She stood a little straighter.

‘He sounds like a combat engineer to me, but my mate’s still checking. So far no photo.’

‘Okay. So we can’t be sure that it’s him, then. A photo would make identifying him a whole lot easier.’

‘I know, I’m working on it. Anyway I’ll be there soon. Just be on your guard.’

‘Thanks, Alex. Are you okay?’ His voice sounded strained, angry. She had to ask. ‘Are we okay?’

‘Fine, fine. I’ll see you soon.’ He was gone.

Something was bothering Alex. Surely he wasn’t still sulking?

‘We’re in for a picture show, are we?’ Amusement simmered below the surface of the now familiar deep voice.

Ellie’s fingers closed around her phone as she took her time turning, composing her face. How much had he overheard? Had she used his name? Her heart quickened. ‘Mr Lawson.’

‘Please, the name’s Nick. Your photos are powerful; evocative.’ His gaze swept over her again and she was incapable of stopping the blush flooding her cheeks. ‘I underestimated you again. You really are talented.’ The smoky edge to his voice and the lift to his lips made her think of dark nights and slow kisses.

‘Charm School 101 again? I would have thought you’d do better than empty flattery.’ She lifted her chin and met his eyes, refusing to be intimidated. Her nerve held, just.

The warm glint in his eyes made her lean against the table for support. Felicity was one hundred per cent right. He was too damn attractive for his own good. And too well dressed. Only a tailor could fit a suit so closely to a man’s body.

‘Empty flattery?’ He shoved one hand in his trouser pocket, his jacket swinging loose on his shoulders as he sauntered towards her. A predator with an air of danger. She felt her body tense. ‘If I said you had hair the colour of spun toffee and eyes that reminded me of the ocean on a clear summer day, then you could accuse me of flattery.’ He stopped within touching distance, his jaw set and his expression enigmatic. ‘But I didn’t. I stated a fact. The photos are strong, effective. That takes talent.’

She cleared her throat, desperate to change the mood. ‘Well, thank you, but your opinion means nothing to me.’ She tried for flippant as she moved to the other side of the desk, putting something solid between them. ‘Alex is right. He said I shouldn’t trust a man who was better looking than Hugh Jackman.’

He laughed. ‘Hugh Jackman, huh? No titanium bones in this guy.’

‘Just super-human control.’

He held her gaze again. ‘We could be friends.’

‘Yeah, I always threaten people I want to befriend. Your approach was a little different last week.’

He grinned at her, almost the boyish human from the surf again. ‘It’s not my normal pick-up line, but it seemed like the only way to actually shut you up last time we were here. You were in over your head.’ He paused. ‘And it did work, but that’s not why I’m here. I tracked you down to apologise. I was rude this morning. It was inexcusable of me to drive off showering you in loose gravel. I guess we were both wound up after the boy’s accident. Can I buy you dinner? Make it up to you?’ Her outraged snort had him raising his hands in mock surrender. ‘No please, seriously,’ he said. ‘It’s a genuine offer. No strings attached, no expectations. Just a nice quiet evening so we can get to understand each other’s point of view better. I even promise to answer your questions if I can.’

‘Great, so the rest of the town can see me out wining and dining with Public Enemy Number One? Thanks, but no thanks.’ She turned her back. God, she was tempted.

‘Look at the new angle. Just imagine how much more credible your opposition against the development will be. You’re prepared to have the journalist writing your story stay at your house for sleepovers. Why not share dinner with me?’

She felt paralysed, trapped by his logic and unsure where he was leading.

‘It would prove how very impartial you are. You’ll do anything for your cause, including dine with the devil.’

Ellie found it impossible not to give in to a tiny smile as she turned back to him. This was ridiculous. How could she be seeing this man as attractive when he was threatening everything she held so dear?

His voice still rumbling with laughter, Nick shook his head at her. ‘And remind me not to get into a fight with you again unless you’re on my side either.’

She bridled. ‘I’ve seen different streets, I’ve seen different realities to you, and those worlds won’t be colliding any time soon. We could never be on the same side, Mr Lawson, never.’

‘Never is a very long time, Ellie.’

‘Well,
Mr Lawson
, never will do just fine for now. If you’ve finished apologising, I’ve got work to do, so . . .’

‘Yeah, I’m sure you do. Dinner tonight. The pub, or name the restaurant. My shout, of course.’

‘Are you totally insensitive or just amazingly arrogant?’

‘I’d call it perceptive. We both know you’re passionate,’ he paused, a wicked glint in his eyes, ‘about your causes.’

She closed her eyes and breathed. When she opened them, he was watching her.

‘It’ll add substance to your case, remember.’

‘No.’ The word exploded from her lips.

‘I’m not leaving, Ellie. I’m an all-expenses-paid guest of your dear lord mayor,’ he answered smoothly just as O’Sullivan’s whining voice reached them from the rear of the chamber.

‘Ah, Nick, I see you’ve met Eleanor Wilding. We have to sit through her little trip down memory lane this morning. Strange someone of her generation chooses to live in the past, but then her family’s been troublemaking for years.’

His snide remarks washed over Ellie, but she was intrigued by the look of annoyance that crossed Nicholas’s face before he turned towards the mayor. Was it irritation at having to deal with such an obvious fool, or the fact that he’d let slip the council was funding his visit?

It took a couple of seconds to analyse the pieces of the puzzle. Was he a gun-carrying ex-military operative, masquerading as a developer in downtown Half Moon Bay and involved in drug running? Or was he really a corrupt engineer, forced to deal with fools like O’Sullivan as part of a much bigger plan? She made a snap decision, hoping she wouldn’t regret it. Nina would be proud of her.

‘My place, seven-thirty, tomorrow.’ Her voice was pitched low to ensure it wouldn’t carry to the mayor. A slight incline of his head was the only indication Nick gave that he’d heard her.

‘Lord Mayor, I’d kill for a good coffee. Does the cafeteria run to an espresso machine?’ As he turned to walk towards the man, his eyes locked with Ellie’s. ‘Tomorrow.’ The possibilities in that one word were electrifying.

O’Sullivan was at his sycophantic best. ‘Of course, Nick. We might be a small coastal town, but we still appreciate the finer things in life.’

Ellie rolled her eyes, already regretting her invitation. Damn it. What had she just done?

She fussed with the equipment, checking the interfaces. She was sure the little grimace that had crossed Nick’s face was one of contempt. And that was the same feeling she’d had the other day, crouched under the table.

She recognised she was playing with fire. If she were entirely honest, the strong physical attraction she felt for this man was part of the motivation. Would Nina have approved? Probably, although her risks had always been calculated. This was something spontaneous. Too late to back out now.

The first of the councillors were beginning to arrive, so she switched the system to hibernate before starting the social round, drumming up support as she went. The public gallery was filling up. Encouraged by the friendly smiles and nods, she knew that her work was worth every effort.