Sleight Malice (32 page)

She looked shell-shocked, her eyes vacant. He knelt down on one knee
beside her, taking her cold hand in his. “How are you feeling?”

“The person I knew doesn’t exist. How am I supposed to feel?”

Bleary-eyed, Desley opened the
door. “God, Brandon, it’s the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”

Her brother didn’t answer. With a backward glance over his shoulder,
he bulldozed his way inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Okay, it’s official: you’re scaring me. What’s going on? Why are
you here?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, bringing his head down to hers.
“I’ll tell you in the car,” he said, his mouth so close to her ear, she could
feel his hot breath. “I’ll wait for you here. Go and get dressed. Throw a few
things in an overnight bag. But hurry.”

She twisted away from him, dislodging his grip, and stepped back.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll tell you in the car. Trust me on this, okay?”

If she couldn’t trust her own brother, who could she trust? A
thought struck her. “Oh God, it’s Mum and Dad, isn’t it? Something’s happened
to one of them.’

He shook his head, criss-crossing his arms in front of him. “No,” he
said, his voice a harsh whisper. “They’re both fine. Please just do what I ask.
I’ll explain everything on the way.” He pointed at the stairs.

What choice did she have? Her brother wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t
important. Three steps up, she stopped and turned. “Why didn’t you phone?”

“Phones have…” He cast a furtive glance around him and cupped his
hands behind his ears.

She frowned. Still half-asleep, she couldn’t think straight. She
hadn’t mentioned anything about the phone tapping or the hidden camera to him
for good reason, so what was with all the cloak and dagger stuff? Shaking her
head, she dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom.

Glancing at the empty bed, Desley wondered what Brandon would have
done if Fergus had been there as he had for the last few nights. Another thing
she hadn’t confided to her brother, but it wasn’t as if she was privy to his
love life. And she was certain there was someone.

Somehow she managed to get herself dressed, opting for warmth and
comfort over looks. Though she had no clue to their destination, Brandon’s
instruction to pack an overnighter suggested she had a long trip ahead of her.

“Desley!”

“Coming.” She tossed a couple of long-sleeved T-shirts, a pair of
jeans and a heavy jumper into the open sports bag on the bed and zipped it up,
before remembering she hadn’t packed any underwear or toiletries. Shoving
socks, knickers and a bra down inside the bag, she hurried to the en suite and
gathered up deodorant, moisturizer, toothpaste and her toothbrush. Anything else
she needed, she would have to buy on the way.

She picked up her mobile phone from the bedside table and for a
second, thought about calling Fergus. One look at the alarm clock was enough to
change her mind.

02:23

What utter madness
, she thought, slipping
the phone into her jacket pocket. Giving her bedroom one last look, she
switched off the light and headed downstairs to whatever awaited her.

Brandon already had the front door open, his hand out for her bag.
She gave it to him, armed the security system and joined him outside, their
movement triggering the motion-sensors out the front of her townhouse. White
light flooded the area, illuminating the silver-colored four-wheel-drive parked
in her driveway.

“Whose vehicle is that?” She heard a beep as he pressed a remote.

“It’s a rental. C’mon, get in. The sooner we leave, the sooner we
get there.”

Yes, but where?
She still had time to
back out. He couldn’t force her to go. “This better not be one of your
practical jokes,” she said, opening the passenger door and climbing in.

Brandon reversed the bulky four-wheel-drive onto the street. Within
minutes, the vehicle’s over-efficient heater had her wishing she had worn fewer
layers. “Where’s the heater switch in this thing,” she said, squinting at the
array of backlit buttons, knobs and switches in the dashboard.

“In the middle, near the bottom, I think. Fan speed to the left.”

She fumbled in the dark for a few moments, turning what she hoped
were the right knobs. “Okay, Bro, time for some answers.”

Brandon checked the rear view mirror and flicked on the left
indicator. “Let me fill up first,” he said, pulling into a brightly lit 24-hour
Shell service station. “Not sure when we’ll get another chance.”

“What do you me…” His door slammed on her words. She slumped back in
her seat, watching as her brother unhooked the hose from the pump and
disappeared out of sight down the back of the vehicle. Where on earth was he
taking her? Somewhere off the beaten track, clearly.

She waited until they were on the Princes Highway to tackle him. He
had no excuse to put her off again, the traffic of freight trucks and lighter
vehicles sparse. “I’ve waited long enough. Either tell me what is going on or
take me home.” Though she couldn’t read his expression in the darkness, she
sensed his tension.

She heard him take a deep breath. “It’s Laura,” he said. “She’s in
danger, real danger. She’s safe for now, but all your digging around is not
only putting her at risk, it’s endangering your life, too. Why do you think
I’ve been doing my damnedest to get you to back off?”

“How—”

“No, let me finish. She didn’t want to involve you; she didn’t want
to involve me either, but she had no one else to turn to. She thought – and I
agree with her – it most likely her pursuers would be keeping an eye on you,
being her best friend and all. She couldn’t chance that – as much for your sake
as her own. And if you think I’m doing this for her, I’m not. I’m more
concerned about you.”

“But—”

“Hold on.” He planted his foot, breaking all speed limits as he
weaved from lane to lane.

“God, Brandon,” she said, righting herself once he slowed down to a
more sedate speed, “don’t you think it’s a matter for the police?” She
half-expected to hear sirens.

He scoffed. “Kettle and black are two words that come to mind. If
the police were doing the job they were paid to, Ryan’s killers would be behind
bars and we wouldn’t be on our way to Laura’s hideout.”

“Ryan’s dead?” When she heard that Laura – or Nicole as she now knew
her to be – was alive and well, she had just assumed he was with her.

“Yes. Now do you see what I mean, when I say these people are not to
be messed with?”

“How…when…how…” Her head in a spin, she didn’t know what to ask
first. “You did get my email about Laura not being who we thought she was,
didn’t you?”

“What do you think prompted this middle of the night dash? She
wanted to talk to you, explain, but we couldn’t risk anyone else finding out
where she was. This was the only way.”

“Explain what? That all this time she’s been lying to me, pretending
to be someone she’s not, deceiving us all and worse, shagging her own brother?”

“He wasn’t her brother. It’s not what you think.”

“I know how much you like her. We all did. But you were the one who
told me that sometimes we don’t know people as well as we think we do.”

“I think you should wait until you hear Laura’s side of the story.”

“Her name isn’t Laura.”

“All right, Nicole’s side of the story. Just so you know, Laura is
her middle name and the name she prefers to go by. Noble is her mother’s maiden
name.”

Desley needed air. She lowered her side window a fraction, tipping
her face to the gap to breathe in the fresh, wintry draught. It was all too
bizarre for words. “Well, tell me this: how does Jeremy Stillson, the body in
the fire, fit into the equation?”

“He killed Ryan.”

“But then how did Jeremy Stillson end up dead and where’s Ryan’s
body?”

“Laura didn’t stay around long enough to find out. Would you’ve?”

“Probably not, but the first place I think I would’ve headed for is
the police station.”

“She was running scared, Desley. She had just witnessed a brutal
murder. She didn’t know who she could trust.”

She shook her head. Why had Laura – or Nicole or whatever name she
wanted to call herself – felt able to trust her supposed best friend’s little
brother, over her best friend? Did she think Brandon would believe whatever
story she fed him more than she would? Once a liar, always a liar?

“She wanted to protect you,” Brandon said, as if reading her mind.
“The less you were involved, the safer you would remain.”

But how involved was her brother? “So, how did Ryan’s mobile phone
end up in a rubbish bin in a men’s room at Melbourne airport?” she asked,
somehow already knowing the answer.

“Laura asked me to dispose of it somewhere, so it would throw anyone
looking for her off her scent.”

“And the flights booked from Sydney to Perth?”

“Same. She just wanted enough time to get away, find a place to hide
until the killers were caught and put behind bars, where they couldn’t get to
her.”

Closing her eyes, Desley rested her cheek against the cool glass of
the side window. Who were the killers? What did they want with Laura? Was she
simply a witness to a crime, a loose end that needed tying up, or was there
more to it? She didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t think about it…

The vibration from the road and the stuffy warmth inside the vehicle
soon lulled her to sleep.

When she awoke it was daylight, her mouth parched, her throat raspy.
She swallowed and sat up, one hand on either side of her neck massaging out the
kinks. “Where are we?” she croaked.

“Cann River. Ready for a coffee and something to eat if I can find
anywhere open?”

She nodded, the mere thought of a strong espresso enough to
kick-start her saliva glands.

The tiny township of service stations, motels and hotels still
seemed to be asleep as they cruised along the highway and pulled into an angle
park in front of a green reserve. “Let me see what I can find. Back in five,”
her brother said, leaping out of the four-wheel-drive and closing the door
before she could say anything.

She opened her door, the cold, misty air hitting her like a wet
facecloth. Her bladder threatening to burst, she hunted for a public toilets
sign, spotting it directly behind an arbor on the other side of the footpath.
She climbed down from her seat, her stiff body protesting with each movement,
and made a beeline for the women’s entrance.

Once back outside and relieved to be out of the dank toilet block,
she paused and breathed in lungfuls of the clean early morning eucalypt scent
of the surrounding forest. Brandon wasn’t back yet, so she decided to stretch
her legs. Wandering down the side of the building, she came across a
playground, empty and forlorn. She stood on the outside looking in, imagining
the squeals and laughter of children happy at play, their doting mothers
sharing in their delight.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder from behind. She jumped, glad
she had already been to the toilet. “Shit! Don’t do that!” She thumped her
chest.

“What the fuck do you think I felt when I came back and you were
gone?”

She flinched at his tone. “Easy. I didn’t mean to scare you.” What
had he thought had happened to her? “Unless we were followed – and you said you
were sure you weren’t – no one even knows where we are. God, I don’t know where
we are,” she added with a laugh, hoping to ease the situation.

He grunted, shoving one of the steaming white-lidded disposable cups
he was carrying at her, along with a plump brown paper bag. She followed him
back to the vehicle. She wasn’t sure if her usually easy-going brother was
being over-melodramatic or if he was just pissed off with her.

Opening the passenger door, she set the brown paper bag on the seat
and peeled the lid off the coffee. “Look, I’m really sorry,” she said, as
Brandon did the same on his side. “I wasn’t thinking.”

He studied her, chewing on a mouthful of toasted sandwich. “You
might think this is a game, but it’s not. I’m not doing it for fun, you know.”

“I know that. I’m sorry; it won’t happen again, okay?” She sipped
her coffee, screwing her nose up at its thin and watery consistency. At least
it was wet and hot.

They finished their breakfast in silence and got on their way,
refueling at the Caltex service station before turning off the Princes Highway
onto the Monaro Highway. To where, Desley was still none the wiser. Nor did she
think it smart to ask. She’d never known Brandon to be so moody. Maybe it was
her.

The narrow farmland strip on either side of the highway soon gave
way to dense forest. After they crossed the border into New South Wales, pine
plantation began to dominate the hinterland. At some stage, they turned off the
highway, ending up on a rutted gravel road only just wide enough for the
four-wheel-drive.