Half Moon Bay (22 page)

Ellie clutched Nick’s arm, a wave of relief rushing through her. ‘Old Mrs Bell’s house. It’s the playpen! Since they put that ugly fence up, the local teenagers started calling it that. There’ve been a couple of rave parties out there on the weekends.’

Nick’s chin lifted. ‘That would make sense.’

‘Did they say the kids were okay?’

Nicholas shook his head, but it wasn’t a yes or a no. ‘Sarah and Mikey know you, don’t they?’

She nodded.

‘Right, come with me.’ He took off towards the exit.

‘Wait! We need to give Felicity and Dan hope.’

‘It may be a false lead.’

‘Anything’s better than nothing.’

‘No, it’s not. You think that angry bloke in there will sit quietly and wait for us to do something?’

‘No. He’d want to come too.’

‘And he can’t. His wife needs him.’

Ellie glanced through the door. Her friends were sitting side by side now, talking, touching, crying. They had each other. Nick was right.

Ellie cracked the door. ‘Guys, sorry to interrupt.’ Both heads swung up. ‘I’ll be back in an hour or so, okay?’

‘Yeah.’ Dan clutched Felicity’s hand.

‘See you.’ She closed the door and swallowed, shutting her eyes against the unthinkable, and hurried after Nick. He was already halfway to the car, snapping orders into his phone. They didn’t speak on the way out of town until he broke the silence.

‘I was out there this morning after we’d been to the vet’s. I should have gone and looked.’ His voice was low and Ellie had to strain to hear his words. ‘I’ll never forgive myself if . . .’

‘No!’ Ellie shook her head. ‘You can’t blame yourself for this. Neither one of us saw this coming. When Alex warned me, I just thought he was being melodramatic. I don’t know what I’ll say to Felicity if we don’t find them . . . safe.’

Nick glanced at her with a shake of his head. ‘You’re a whole lot tougher than you look. The last twenty-four hours have been hell for you and yet you keep on fighting back.’

The approval in his words and eyes sparked a tiny flame that warmed the frozen core of dread sitting heavy in her heart. But it all meant nothing if Sarah and Mikey were harmed. ‘No,’ she answered. ‘I’m not amazing or tough. Our actions have got them into this. It’s up to us to get them out.’ She stared out the window towards Mrs Bell’s land as they turned down the road. From the front the block looked deserted. The only things moving were the leaves on the trees, stirred by the wind whipping in off the sullen ocean. Rain sheeted down from the heavy clouds to the west.

Nick ducked his head to see more clearly. ‘I’ll drive past and park at the path to the beach at the end. We’ll make our way back through the trees. If they are in there, they may well still have minders.’

‘And if they do?’ she asked.

‘We’ll cross that bridge then.’ He looked over at her, his face unreadable, his eyes dark. ‘Ellie, we have no back-up. Everyone’s flat out with the flooding, even the police. We’re following a hunch here, a best guess. We simply don’t have the resources available to act this quickly when we may be wrong. It’s you and me.’

‘You and me?’ She didn’t want to believe that, not when two young lives were at stake. ‘No hostage team, no negotiator?’ Panic made her voice rise.

‘This isn’t
CSI Miami,
Ellie. We’re cut off by floodwaters and the nearest help is hours away. We don’t have time.’ He sounded grim as he shoved his gun into the ankle holster and pulled the leg of his jeans down round it.

‘What if they panic, harm the kids when they see us?’

He shoved another handgun into his waistband at the small of his back. ‘I won’t let that happen. My hunch is there’s one minder and he’s young, scared and out of his depth. Bring your phone, but make sure it’s on silent.’

Ellie did as she was told and followed, stretching her legs to keep pace with him. Was he right? Could they really have gleaned all that from one short phone call?

‘If we can confirm the kids are there, then we’ll reassess. We could be barking up the wrong tree completely.’

She wiped her palms down her pants. It wasn’t the weather making her sweat.

They’d worked their way to within one hundred metres of the back fence line. Lemon-scented ti-trees grew in clumps under giant melaleucas, graceful in their paperbark skirts. The air smelt fresh and tangy, pure and natural. It felt surreal, too pretty for a tragedy to be hiding nearby. Ellie only had to glance across at the bleak determination on Nick’s face for reality to crash through.

Ahead there were no vehicles, no sign of movement. A cleared area surrounded the old two-storey weatherboard with its gangly stumps and timber palings. The weeds were the only things holding the sandy soil together.

Nick put out a restraining hand. ‘You stay hidden in the trees until I see if there’s anyone in there. I’ll call for you if I need you. If anyone else comes out of the house, just hit the deck. This is for real.’

Ellie glared back. ‘But if you find them, they won’t know you. They might panic.’

‘That’s a small risk I’m prepared to take.’ Nicholas nodded at the house. ‘They can’t cover every angle. Once I move, just stay out of sight. Understood?’

Ellie nodded. She understood, but that didn’t mean she was going to comply.

They worked their way closer to the fence. The panels of mesh had obviously been tampered with and from the trampled vegetation, discarded bottles and cans, it was obvious how the young people of Half Moon Bay came and went from the property. The ti-trees were at their most dense here and with no windows from the second storey directly overlooking their path, it provided the only viable option.

Nick pushed his phone into his pocket and glanced down at Ellie. He looked conflicted, his eyes coloured with an emotion she thought might be regret. When he reached out and touched the side of her face where Critter had slapped her, she held her breath. It was the lightest of brushes, but the warmth lingered as he dropped his hand back to his side. His expression hardened again.

Keeping low to the ground, he made straight for the blind corner of the house. Ellie, against all orders, followed.

They reached the safety of the building and when Nick saw her, he hauled her angrily hard up against the old palings, pinning her with his arm. Before he could do anything else, they heard faint voices above their heads.

Ellie strained, but couldn’t be sure it was the children. She pointed urgently at Nick to go underneath the building. He skirted round the old-fashioned double laundry tub and ancient washing machine and onto the cement pad where Mrs Bell would have parked her car. The floorboards creaked above them and they both froze.

The voices were now audible. ‘I told you we shouldn’t go. I want Mummy.’ Sarah’s little voice was forlorn.

‘We’re going to be in so much trouble. She’s going to be so mad.’

‘It was your idea,’ Sarah sniffed.

‘Was not.’

‘Was too and I hate you,’ wailed Sarah. ‘I want to go home.’

‘We can’t get out.’ Mike’s voice trembled this time. His sister’s only reply was a sob.

Ellie was frantically signalling to Nicholas. The children had to be by themselves, but Nick was listening for any other sounds. She started to creep to the stairs that led up to the back door, but he grabbed the collar of her shirt, jerking her to a stop.

‘No.’ His voice was barely a whisper. ‘Wait.’

‘Why?’ she mouthed back.

‘Wait!’ The anger in his eyes stilled her. His concentration was so focused. Finally satisfied, he moved fast, taking the rear stairs two at a time, his steps surprisingly light, gun at the ready. Ellie was so close behind him she almost slammed into him as he reached for the door. The handle turned, but the door didn’t budge. Steadying himself with his free hand, he raised his foot and kicked right next to the lock. The door exploded inwards, bits of splintered wood showering them both. He shouldered the door open further and charged into the room, Ellie one pace behind.

Two bewildered and very frightened little faces peered out from underneath a table, the only piece of furniture in the room.

‘Ellie, Ellie, Ellie,’ Sarah squealed. She launched herself at them, leaving her brother to stare defiantly at the big man filling the doorway. Nicholas stopped in his tracks. Mikey saw a gap and made a break for it. He barrelled between Nick’s legs, almost bowling him over, and threw himself on top of Ellie, who was kneeling with Sarah already clasped tight to her chest.

A bullet punched into the ceiling above Nick and he spun, firing from the hip as he dropped. A grunt was the only sound from down the corridor.

Nick motioned frantically to Ellie to get out of the house and this time she didn’t hesitate, scooping the twins up and running down the back stairs.

The movement flushed out another couple of shots and Nick took aim at their source. The sound of a body falling followed by heavy-duty swearing raised a grim smile on his face.

Nick wormed across on his stomach, his mouth dry, and risked a glance down the corridor. A pair of new running shoes was just visible, protruding out of the room next to the kitchen. He groped for something to throw and his hand settled on a child’s shoe. Its smallness centred his anger further. He tucked it into his pocket. What sort of scum threatened six-year-olds? He felt around again and found an empty Coke can. He lobbed it down the corridor and launched himself after it, kicking the gun loose from the kidnapper’s grip before he could get another shot off.

The prone man was holding his thigh, the dark stain of blood pooling under his torn jeans. His face was screwed up with pain, his shaggy hair dishevelled and greasy. He didn’t look to be more than a teenager, with an outbreak of acne on his chin and a smattering of wispy down on his cheeks.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ Nick snarled. ‘Who else is with you?’

The young man spat at him.

‘You’re a moron, you know that?’ Nick crouched down and peered at the fallen weapon. It was a shiny new gun. Using two fingers, he picked it up by the barrel and flicked the safety catch back on. There was a shelf high up on the wall and he placed the gun on it, out of reach. The man’s laboured moaning was the only sound he could hear, but he needed to be certain.

‘Don’t frickin’ move or I’ll shoot your other leg,’ Nick growled.

‘Fuck off, arsehole,’ the injured man sneered back.

Nick headed down the corridor. In the next room a pile of pizza boxes vied for floor space with discarded drink bottles. No cupboards, nowhere to hide.

Outside the final room Nick hesitated, listening for movement, before slamming the door open. A sleeping bag and a packet of cigarettes were carelessly dumped on a rubber mat. The kidnapper was not living the high life. It didn’t look like his mates were sleeping here either.

With his gun still at the ready, he tried the front door. It was locked and he slid the safety chain across as a flimsy but added safety measure. All the windows were secure and there was no sign of anyone else inside or out.

Nick headed back to the injured captor, anger making him cold. The younger man was now panting with the pain.

‘What the fuck did you think you were doing?’ Nick asked again.

‘We were never going to hurt ’em. Just scare ’em a bit.’

‘So why were you carrying a gun?’ Nick kept his own weapon firmly trained on the fallen man.

‘Always carry when I’m on a job.’

‘Who hired you?’

‘Not that fuckin’ stupid.’

‘Dumb enough to get shot.’

The colour had drained from the man’s face and sweat beaded on his forehead.

He needed medical attention and soon. Nick rang his office and left it with them. They could go through the twenty-question routine with the 000 operator. He didn’t have time. He squatted down beside the young man and frisked him, looking for weapons. The flow of blood had slowed to a trickle. He wasn’t going to die from the wound any time soon, although the pain must be severe. Nick tried baiting him.

‘So you’re a real pro, then? Who hired you? Or did you dream this stupid stunt up by yourself? Pretty clever grabbing kids.’

‘Arsehole,’ the abductor snarled. ‘Fuckin’ arsehole.’

‘Still, I’m standing and you’re not, so remember your manners. Who’s behind this?’

He was met with sullen silence.

‘It’s going to hurt you more than me.’ The scream from the younger man did nothing to dissipate Nick’s disgust as he kicked the damaged leg. ‘Who?’ Nick asked. He raised his heel again as the other man clutched at his leg, tears streaming down his cheeks.

‘Fuckin’ Critter,’ he gasped. ‘Him and Gazza.’ He wiped his hand across his nose, smearing mucus over his cheek.

Nick couldn’t keep the revulsion from his face. ‘Not so hard, was it? Could have saved yourself some pain. What was supposed to happen next?’

‘I dunno. I was here to look after the kids. That’s it. Someone was coming back tonight.’

‘What time?’ Nick bent down and stripped the shoelaces from the guy’s new runners as he talked.

‘After dark.’

‘Do you live round here?’

‘Yeah. Over towards Yamba.’

Grabbing a fistful of the guy’s T-shirt, Nick hauled him up into a sitting position. ‘Hands behind your back.’ He hauled hard on the man’s arms, then tied them together before propping him against the wall.

‘You can’t leave me here. I need a doctor.’

‘They’re on their way, along with the cops. Hope you know a good lawyer.’

‘Piss off,’ he hissed.

‘I will.’ Nick headed back down the corridor, his anger replaced by annoyance. The shooting had generated enough paperwork to keep him tied up for the rest of the day and the boss wasn’t going to be happy about it either. He sighed. When exactly in his life had shooting someone become an annoyance rather than a tragedy? It really was time for him to go back to the real world.

‘Ellie?’

‘Down here.’

He took the rear stairs three at a time.

They were huddled in the laundry. Ellie had lifted the children onto the washing machine. The two little limpets were clinging to her.

‘They’re both okay. No one’s harmed them.’ She was still dry-eyed, Nicholas noted, but the tremor in her voice said so much more than tears. He reached out and touched his palm to her cheek. She was freezing to touch.