Twisted Heart (30 page)

At eleven a.m. the door bell rang and Orlando opened it to Michael Baker. He came alone, desperate to squeeze every drop of information out of the witnesses who had been there when his son died.

When? How? Why? He looked like a dead man walking.

With Orlando holding my hand, I held myself together and gave him the bare facts as I’d witnessed them. He told us he and his wife, Tracey, knew Aaron was in bad shape after the break-up with Holly but they’d thought he’d get over it. They hadn’t realized how deep it went.

‘He genuinely loved her.’ Orlando kept it simple. Both he and I steered away from good versus evil, from fallen angels and twisted hearts.

‘They suspect he’d been drinking,’ Michael said with an angry shake of his head. ‘I told Amos that was so untypical. I taught my son to steer clear of alcohol.’

‘We didn’t see him with a drink in his hands,’ Orlando insisted. ‘We told the New Dawn guys the same thing – in our view, Aaron was sober.’

Aaron’s dad seemed to be on automatic pilot, reciting over and over again the few facts he already knew. So he didn’t react to Orlando’s news. ‘They said the alcohol tipped him over the edge, that he lost control and challenged the guy he suspected of stealing Holly from him. Then there was a scuffle and he lost his balance. Afterwards all hell broke loose – people shouting and screaming diving in to save him, a rescue boat, teams of people out there searching.’

I was still hung up on the question of alcohol. ‘It’s not true,’ I insisted, waiting until Michael came out of his manic-recollection phase. I grabbed his hand and made him look at me. ‘Believe me, Aaron was stone cold sober. He knew Holly was in terrible danger so he tried to save her.’

Aaron’s father met my gaze with haunted eyes from his prison of loss. ‘It would have been quick,’ he said quietly. ‘In those temperatures, with those underwater currents and with alcohol involved, it would have been over in less than five minutes.’

After he left the house and stood talking with Orlando on the drive, I put on my jacket and walked out into the garden. I had to breathe cold, clean air, stand and gaze at the mountains and the lake.

‘I will tell you all you need to know,’ the body of Conner Steben whispers from the bottom of Turner Lake. ‘They say it was my weak heart but I can tell you different.’

I listened intently, feeling something shift in my brain – a door opening to allow in a new idea. Conner is an angel of light. My mourning dove is absent from the aspens, but she can speak through a drowned corpse.

Conner rises from the lake in the distance. He is in my garden, young and full of life again with a chipped-tooth smile.

‘How did you die?’ I ask.

‘They killed me. You know it’s true.’

He is risen from the grey water, free of the decaying death-pews and the shards of coloured glass, surrounded by light.

‘Not your heart?’ I repeat.

‘The New Dawn people – they saw I was like you, Tania – psychic and on the side of the angels of light. They discovered that I’d been sent to spy on them. They were many. I was one.’

I shudder and shake with fear, scared of my dark angel’s thirst for revenge, certain he will soon do to me what he did to Conner. ‘Who did it?’ I whisper. I fear hearing his answer as he opens his mouth to speak. ’No, don’t say the name – not until I’m ready!’

‘Not who you think.’ Conner waits for me to grow calm again. ‘I was in the lake, swimming strongly with other triathletes all around. One dived below the surface, caught me by the leg, dragged me down.’

‘Not Jarrold?’ I whisper.

‘Listen. This dark soul drags me down. He strikes me with a sharp stone, a flint from the pebble beach.’

‘Who? Who struck the blow?’

Conner’s voice is soft. He sounds like Maia, like Zenaida. They are all one angel of light.

‘The guy who stands at the right hand of your dark angel,’ he murmurs. ‘His name is Channing, dealer in death.’

To my certain knowledge Channing had now killed two people – Aaron and Conner.

I am not alone. I am not alone. Pacing to and fro in my snowy, fenced garden I repeated the simple phrase like a mantra, and when Orlando finally said goodbye to Mr Baker and came to find me, I was sloughing off my fear and moving on.

‘Look at this.’ I showed Orlando a recent text message from Aurelie.

‘Please come,’ it read. ‘Papa and Jean-Luc are arguing. JL needs your help.’

‘Isn’t this the day he leaves?’ Orlando asked with a deep frown creasing his forehead. ‘Text her back. Tell her no.’

The force of his reaction rocked me back on my heels. ‘I don’t get it,’ I complained. ‘Don’t you see – this could be a way in for us to contact Holly again!’

‘We tried once and look what happened.’ He told it like it was – no frills. His stubborn expression told me he was not going back to New Dawn.

‘So we give up on her?’

Orlando glared back at me. ‘How many people besides Aaron have to die rescuing her?’

‘No one. Not if we get this right.’ I gathered every ounce of energy to convince him that we shouldn’t and wouldn’t run away. ‘We almost got Holly out of there last night. Until the tragedy with Aaron happened, we had a good chance. And this message has come out of the blue – Aurelie contacting me and asking for my help. It’s like another door has suddenly opened. So I vote we say yes, we don’t give any sign that we know who Antony Amos is or what he’s trying to do to Holly.’

‘And to you,’ Orlando reminded me. ‘You’re his main target, Tania. You’re convinced he wants to punish you. So what am I supposed to say – yeah, go right in there, girl, and put your own head on the block?’

‘I won’t. I’ll take care. Honestly, I’ve come this far and I can’t turn back.’

I waited for an age for Orlando to back down. He was studying me, thinking it through from every angle, realizing that he couldn’t argue me out of this. ‘OK, text Aurelie. Ask her how she thinks you can help.’

‘Cool.’ Fumbling with my phone, I typed in the message.

Straight away I received a reply. ‘The fight is about Aaron. JL needs you as a witness.’

Again, Orlando took a long time to work it through. ‘So you go and you give Amos the facts – Aaron wasn’t drunk, Channing set up the whole thing.’

‘And I do it in front of Jean-Luc and Aurelie. They’re people who can spread the truth and speak up for Aaron. At least, Jean-Luc will be able to.’

I was already grabbing my car keys and Orlando saw that there was nothing else left to say or do. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he decided suddenly, reaching the door before I did. We’ll go in my truck.’

Tilting back my head, I gave a big sigh of relief. ‘Thank you!’ I mouthed and I kissed him.

I am not alone! The mantra whizzed round and round inside my head.

‘So you’ll go searching for Holly, find out what kind of shape she’s in while I look as if I’m sorting out the fight between Amos and Jean-Luc?’

‘Deal,’ he said reluctantly through gritted teeth, climbing into the knight-in-shining-armour truck and switching on the engine.

Our plan was agreed. We drove down Becker Hill and through town, out towards the lake. Fresh snow and a blue sky made the whole place look like a scene from a Christmas card, easing our tension and making us exclaim over the beauty of the pine tree branches weighted down by snow, pointing out the drifts piled up two or three metres at each side of the road. Eventually, nerves tightening again, we drove off the highway and along the track to New Dawn until we came to a snow drift that totally blocked the route.

‘So now we walk,’ I decided before Orlando could change his mind.

We got out of the truck, skirted the snow drift and headed on until the first buildings of the New Dawn Community came into view between the trees.

‘And now we split up,’ I insisted. If Orlando wanted to find Holly, he had to do it in secret and it had to look like I’d come alone.

‘If you need me, use your phone,’ he muttered, kissing me quickly and warning me to take care of myself before striking out up the hill to our left, heading for a stand of pines overlooking the lake.

As I watched him go, I longed to change my mind. ‘Come back!’ I almost called.

Give me the courage to stand fast in a blizzard, not to turn from my dark angel. Seize him, grab him, fight him down.

And I knew with total, unbending certainty in the core of me that I couldn’t run away from this – I just couldn’t.

So I waited until Orlando disappeared under the trees then I set off, keeping to low ground by the lake and texting Aurelie as I went.

‘Am arriving on foot. Where are you?’

‘Come to Trail’s End.’

I walked up the hill as fast as I could, though the deep snow slowed me down. Approaching Amos’s cabin, I saw other footsteps trampled into the drifts and heard voices through the open door.

‘Why did you tell Richard to call in the search parties?’ Jean-Luc demanded. ‘They should be out there, looking until we find him!’

‘There’s no point.’ Amos reacted to his stepson’s raised voice by sounding steady and calm. It was obvious that this was the way the power balance had always been – Jean-Luc’s passion and rebellion versus Amos’s stone-walling rationality.

‘Don’t you care how this will look to the outside world?’ Jean-Luc demanded. ‘We throw a party and someone dies. We spend less than twenty-four hours looking for the body.’

‘It’s over,’ Amos insisted. ‘We’ll let the cops do their thing as soon as they can reach us.’

‘Yeah, you’ll get them crawling all over this one, I warn you.’

‘I know it. Plus rescue helicopters, divers – the works.’ As he spoke, Amos came out on to the porch and spotted me. He wore a thick blue woollen jacket over the white costume from the previous night – a sign that he hadn’t slept. Likewise Aurelie, who came out after her stepfather.

‘Tania, thank you for coming,’ she said, her tired face brightening. ‘Papa, Tania has all the answers to last night. She can settle this fight between you and Jean-Luc.’

Stepping down from the porch, she kissed me on both cheeks then smiled. ‘It would break my heart for Jean-Luc to leave New Dawn in anger and never come back.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ I told her, feeling the tension between the two guys and stepping into the cabin to find Jean-Luc standing beside the bronze horse statue, hands in pockets, his lip curled into a surly expression that didn’t alter as I walked in.

As peacemaker, Aurelie drew her stepfather in from the porch. ‘The question is – what shape was Aaron in?’ she stated. ‘Richard has evidence from Blake and a few other Explorers that he was drinking heavily.’

‘No.’ I cut in straight away; spoke louder than I’d intended.

Amos looked at me sharply. ‘Stop and think, Tania,’ he warned. ‘This is important. It’s likely to be a major factor in any investigation.’

I nodded. ‘That’s why I’m here. I already told Jean-Luc that Aaron never drank alcohol.’

‘And I gave you the facts exactly as Tania told them,’ Jean-Luc said angrily to his stepfather. ‘But who do you believe – Ziegler or me?’

‘Channing swears he grabbed the remains of a six-pack from the guy seconds before he fell into the water,’ Amos insisted. ‘The kid was so drunk he could hardly stand.’

‘Not true,’ I said, feeling my pulse race and the anger steadily rising at the way Channing had altered the facts.

‘Which is why we have to carry on searching,’ Jean-Luc pointed out. ‘If we find the body they can test for alcohol in the blood.’

Again Aurelie tried to calm the situation. ‘So, Tania, tell Papa again – you’re one hundred per cent certain Aaron wasn’t drinking?’

‘Stone-cold sober,’ I muttered. Jean-Luc’s talk about blood tests had made me shudder but I measured my words carefully and watched for Amos’s reaction. ‘Aaron’s only motive in being at the party last night was to talk to Holly, which he finally managed to do down by the lake.’

As Amos pursed his lips and frowned, Jean-Luc raised his hand then slapped it down on the table, making the statue shake. ‘What did I tell you!’ he exclaimed. ‘Who do you believe now – me and Tania or your precious Ziegler; he who can do no wrong?’

Amos’s temper snapped and he stepped angrily towards Jean-Luc then changed his mind. Without saying a word he turned on his heel and disappeared into his cinema room, slamming the door after him. This was the first time I’d seen the great man thrown off balance and it left me with a queasy feeling in my stomach.

‘Jean-Luc …’ Aurelie began.

He pushed her to one side, went out on to the porch. ‘Don’t ask me to apologize,’ he said over his shoulder.

‘Before you go – please!’

But he didn’t listen. Instead, he strode off through the snow.

There were tears in Aurelie’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told me. ‘None of us is handling this well. The boy drowned – it’s painful. It reminds us of my mother.’

Right there and then, in a sudden flash, a picture slammed into my brain and shunted me to a different world.

I see the over-laden ferry wallowing in a blue ocean, the sun burning down. Water seeps in through leaking portholes, someone raises the alarm. The engine churns heavily and the boat turns slowly, clumsily for the shore. There is a gut-wrenching smell of diesel. Passengers rush to the deck from the hold below. A dark-skinned woman in a yellow sari is crushed with a dozen others on a metal stairway. She hands her small child to a middle-aged woman in a white linen shirt who is two steps above her. The woman struggles to carry the child towards the square of light above their heads. Water is rushing in, filling the dark hold. It rises up the metal stairway. The boat tilts to an angle of forty-five degrees.

People reach down from the deck, they stretch out their hands. As the water rises to her waist, the woman in white passes the child to safety. Then a man behind her drags her back in his own effort to climb the stairs. She falls under the oily surface without a sound.

The boat tilts, the sea rises.