Combatting Fear Read online

  “They haven’t been started in a while,” she called over her shoulder.

  Within minutes they were fastening helmet straps and stomping on gear levers. It had been ages since she’d been riding, and it felt awesome with the sun warming her back, hair whipping around her neck as she accelerated. Motorbiking was something she used to enjoy with Tony on Saturday afternoons, after his compulsory combat training drills, but they hadn’t done it in a long time. Quite likely a direct result of her resentment about having to train for an implausible catastrophe. In retrospect, maybe she just hadn’t thought of all the catastrophes that could occur, like the one that involved Rowan right now.

  It was comforting to hear an engine behind her as they followed the fence north to the wide Onkaparinga River coming in from the east. The sheep they ran on the property congregated near a thicket of wattle on the lee side of the hill, and half-a-dozen cattle were scattered along the riverbank, uninterested in the motorbikes as they sheared the grass to ground level.

  Even Tony in all his paranoia hadn’t bothered to run a fence along the permanent river, which was the boundary here, although someone had once. Higgledy-piggledy fence posts teetered on the far bank with sagging wire, half of them swept away during the winter floods.

  Micah came alongside as they rode along the top of the steep bank. “What are we looking for?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Tony does this regularly, just to make sure nothing looks out of place.”

  They circled around a half-full dam, then followed the southern curve of the river to where a couple of dry watercourses joined it. Neve stood on the bike pegs and slowly negotiated the steep decline of the loose bank. The bridge Tony had built across the narrowest part of the river didn’t look like much—arm-span-wide planks as it was—but it was durable. It had to be to survive the high watermark. She paused once they were across and pointed to a tangled mess of reeds and branches about six metres up a tree.

  “That was the water level during the last flood,” she yelled over the engine noise.

  “Wow.”

  She kept the revs high as the bike slid around underneath her on the way up the opposite bank. At the top of the hill, the scrub thinned and ancient gums dominated dry paddocks. Micah blew past, a huge grin on his face. Who would have guessed that a multi-billionaire would be so at home on a dirt bike in rural Turners Gully, the serious situation with his wife and son notwithstanding?

  The river snaked back and forth through the steep gully, appearing to be cut off at one point by a rock outcrop, but the water flowed in streamlets under boulders, along cracks, and between tree roots, until it threw itself carelessly over a final precipice and formed a watercourse again. At the bottom of the waterfall, Neve turned the bike off and kicked down the stand.

  “Let’s have a break.”

  Micah ripped his helmet off. “That was great!”

  She grinned back. “You know what you’re doing.”

  “No need to sound so surprised. I told you I have my own bike. Right now I’m thinking it’s been way too long since I had that much fun.”

  They sat on slabs of slate, and she took her boots and socks off so she could dangle her feet in the icy stream.

  “Good idea.” Micah did the same.

  She pulled two paper parcels from her knapsack and passed one to him.

  “Crikey, I haven’t had cake wrapped in greaseproof paper since I was a kid. You have a beautiful property, by the way. Do you need to check the fences, because of trespassers?”

  “Occasionally, local kids climb the fence and have bonfires over that way.” She pointed up the hill. “Tony even found dope plants in the scrub once, where it’s dense enough to hide them but close enough to a road to be accessible.”

  “Sneaky. Did he harvest them?”

  Neve pursed her lips. “Tony might be unusual, but he’s not a stoner.”

  “I was kidding.”

  She wasn’t sure he really was, but she let it go.

  Micah twirled the gold band on his ring finger.

  “You do that a lot, you know,” she commented.

  He let his hands drop to his lap. “I guess you don’t think much of me, and this probably doesn’t sound very convincing seeing as I kissed you, but I can assure you I haven’t had a girlfriend since marrying Chelsea.”

  So, he takes commitment seriously; good for Chelsea, bad for me. But once he had what he came for, he would go back to his fancy house in Sydney, his important business meetings and expensive dinners with friends in high places. She didn’t want any of that stuff, so would go back to Turners Gully Kindergarten, and wouldn’t even have Rowan to brighten her day anymore.

  • • •

  “You still love her, don’t you?” Neve’s voice sounded melancholy.

  This conversation was roaming into dangerous territory fast. He might be intruding in Neve’s life, but that didn’t mean he had to tell her everything about his, although she did deserve honesty after everything she’d put on the line.

  “I told you, she’s the mother of my son.” He lay on the rocks with his hands behind his head. His voice was as soft as a sigh when he spoke again. “I tried so hard to make our marriage work, but it takes two people. Relying on others isn’t something I’m used to doing”—he grimaced at the irony—“and I was foolish enough to believe marriage vows were enough to keep us together.”

  “But it's been a couple of years since she left, and you’re still wearing your wedding ring. You must still love her.”

  Damn, she was tenacious. It wasn’t easy to explain what had gone so wrong between Chelsea and him, but he wanted Neve to understand that he didn’t go around kissing other women as a matter of course. “I’ll always love her.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath by Neve.

  “What I mean is that there was a reason I married her, but if I’m honest, I feel more like a protective brother than a husband.” There was a long pause—please, let Neve say something.

  She didn’t.

  “I know we’re still married on paper, but . . .I guess we haven’t been husband and wife in a long time. I will always care about her welfare though.” It sounded so final when he said it like that. The end of something he’d believed was real once upon a time. The expiration of the family he’d so carefully sculptured, nurtured and defended.

  Neve was staring into the distance.

  “She agreed to sign the divorce papers, you know. I had them with me when we went to get Rowan.”

  “Really?” Neve’s voice went up an octave, and she finally looked him in the eye.

  “Plus, it was easier to leave the ring on than answer a lot of questions from nosey acquaintances.”

  “Protecting your public image.” She nodded knowingly.

  “No, that’s not it.”

  I can’t tell her I’ve been carrying the bloody divorce papers around for a year. This has been staring me in the face all this time. Chelsea was never going to come back and pick up where we’d left off.

  Micah took a moment to assemble his thoughts. Neve’s chocolate-brown eyes stared into his, and the energy that surged between them every time they were close seeped through his glum mood. She had the most expressive face he’d ever come across. A perfectly shaped oval with full, luscious lips and a high forehead, but it was her eyes that were most compelling. Fine creases revealed her every emotion. Right now the inside edge of her brows was the tiniest bit taut, but her eyes were wide open.

  “I want to understand,” Neve whispered.

  She deserved to understand, but it wasn’t easy to explain something you didn’t understand yourself. Like, if he said it aloud, his marriage really would be over, and he would be all alone. Just a thirty-something guy living with his mother. The life he’d worked so hard to build, expunged. He closed his eyes and leant back. “When Chelsea first left, I honestly believed that she’d— she’d see that the grass wasn’t greener on the other side. That she’d miss the things I provided, maybe
even miss me, and come back even if it was just for Rowan’s sake. But she doesn’t love me anymore. Maybe she never did.”

  When Neve didn’t comment, he opened his eyes and examined her face for a clue to what she was thinking. There was none of the sickening pity he’d expected or contempt. She nodded and offered a cheerless smile.

  “Our marriage was destined to fail from the start. We both wanted something the other couldn’t give. I wanted the perfect family, and she wanted the kind of excitement you can’t get in a monogamous relationship. If I’d known, I’d never have had a child with her. Money is truly a curse.”

  Neve sat straighter. “That’s not true. You do a lot of good with your money.”

  His good deeds weren’t a payoff for his failure as a husband though. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t buy for Chelsea, and it still wasn’t enough. In one swift movement, he scrubbed his hands across his face and got to his feet. “Then Dave came on the scene, and it all went to hell.”

  • • •

  Micah was reading in the lounge room of the shack, diligently avoiding Tony, who was reading in the kitchen. They hadn’t been back at the house long when a car pulled up outside. Micah smiled at Neve’s enthusiasm as she bounded off the couch and threw the door open.

  “Hi, Jack.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  Jack stood on the back of his boots to get them off. “I see you’re still alive,” he said to Micah.

  “So far.”

  “I bought the finest d’Arenburg Money Spider roussanne.” Jack held up two translucent green wine bottles.

  Neve giggled. “Money spiders are supposed to be lucky, Micah.”

  “Thought it might help smooth our planning,” Jack added. With a flourish, he waltzed into the kitchen and glasses clinked.

  “Shall we?” Neve beckoned to Micah.

  Once the wine was poured and Jack and Tony had a dreadful looking bowl of lentils in front of them, Jack was the first to offer information.

  “My boy in the army reckons he can look at recent satellite images and check out the activity, but it’s too broad an area at the moment. If we can narrow it down, he can even locate specific vehicles.”

  Neve sipped her wine thoughtfully. “I can give a description of Chelsea’s vehicle.”

  Interesting that she didn’t mention Dave’s Hilux. Given Tony’s volatility, she probably hadn’t mentioned her run-in with the thug.

  “My PI, Shannon, is going to try to get the registrations, makes, and models, based on the names we have,” Micah said.

  “That’d be helpful.” Jack said. “I’m going to get my guy to flag any and all motorcycles too. In the meantime, I’m going to do recon on the ground.”

  Neve touched Jack’s arm. “Be careful.”

  It was a look of genuine concern they exchanged. Jack was part of her family, too, and Micah was putting everyone she loved in danger.

  “I’ll go with you,” Tony announced.

  Neve coughed up a mouthful of wine. “You’re going off the property?”

  Tony raised another spoonful of lentils to his lips. “This kid needs finding, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, I’m not letting Jack go and do something stupid without me.”

  Jack grinned. “Yeah, if we’re going to do something stupid, it may as well be together.”

  Neve laughed. Jack and Tony toasted to their success.

  It was like being down a rabbit hole in Alice’s wonderland without the benefit of the magic mushrooms. Amazing as it was that they wanted to help, this was Micah’s problem and he’d be damned if he’d leave it to a couple of old fellas he barely knew. Okay, he knew they could throw a punch, but it was his wife and child on the line.

  “I was thinking of getting Annemarie to cover me at work tomorrow,” Neve said, “so I can search too. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

  Tony’s lips twisted his already gnarled face. “I don’t want you going on your own, love. You don’t want to bump into these guys.”

  “I won’t be by myself. Micah and I will go together.”

  Tony shot eye daggers at Micah, so he feigned interest in the label on the Money Spider bottle. Best not to show any weakness or the wild animal would strike.

  “We’re just looking for a location,” Neve said. “Two teams are better than one.”

  “I’ll get a map then, and we can divide up the search area.” Tony got to his feet.

  Jack leant forward. “What else do we know about these people?”

  Neve nudged Micah’s leg under the table.

  “Oh, um, my PI e-mailed me some info about Boiler.” Micah opened his laptop and found the e-mail. “Apparently, he’s well known to Adelaide police. He’s one of the top dogs in the Mutts motorcycle gang—pardon the pun—and rumoured to be responsible for their automotive division.” He smiled at the confused faces at the table. “Chopping cars.”

  Jack drummed his finger on the tabletop. “Hmm, there sure have been a lot of cars going missing in the area lately.”

  “Not least of all my rental,” Micah said. “And Shannon sent a mug shot of Boiler too, so we’ll recognise him⎯ not that we’re going to get within cooee,” he added quickly.

  Tony dropped a handful of maps on the kitchen table. “It’d be good to find this clubhouse, if it exists.”

  Neve proceeded to relate the whole story of Micah’s ongoing search for Rowan, the money demand from Dave, and failed hand over. When she got to the part about Boiler getting on the phone, her voice strangled.

  “I still don’t understand why Chelsea would make us drive so far,” she said. “Unless she was staying around there.”

  “It’s not that far along the back roads from my place to Mylor,” Jack said.

  Tony flicked a well-worn topographic map open. Not something your average bloke kept lying around, but Tony was in no way average. Not someone to underestimate, that was for sure.

  “Mylor is a location with multiple exits.” Tony pointed at the map. “You can head to Stirling, Hahndorf, Echunga, and Cherry Gardens.”

  Jack nodded. “That’s a good sign. Means we’re on the right track.”

  “In that case,” Tony said, “let’s keep the search this side of Mylor for now. We’ll have to be systematic.”

  Jack stabbed at the map with a knotted finger. “Here’s my place. How about Tony and I check everything north of this line, and you two head south along the back roads from Mylor. Not much point in going farther afield yet.”

  “Um, Micah?” Jack chewed his bottom lip as though deliberating.

  “Go on,” he encouraged.

  “Is it just Rowan you want to find or his mum too?” His eyes flicked to Neve.

  Micah rotated the gold band on his finger. They were all awaiting his response. “People count on me to make the best decisions for them. I have to do what’s best for them, even when they don’t know they need protecting.”

  “We’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I ought to hear from my accountant by then too,” said Micah.

  Neve stood. “Well, it sounds like we’ve got a big day ahead of us, so that’s enough wine for me. I’m going to do a bit of reading and hit the sack early. We can rendezvous at dinnertime tomorrow.”

  “Sure, love.” Jack tilted his face as she bent to kiss his cheek.

  She turned to kiss Tony, whose suspicious eyes were on Micah. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out what was going through his mind: a picture of his daughter sleeping in the same room as a man he hated. Micah wasn’t convinced it was a good idea either, especially after the kiss in his cabin.

  “Good night, Tony.” Neve squeezed her dad’s shoulder, and he finally broke eye contact with Micah to smile at her.

  “Good night, honey.”

  She bent and whispered, “I’ll be fine.”

  With a flick of her head, she indicated Micah should follow. There wasn’t any other choice really.

  “Do you want to have a shower
or use the Internet or something?” Neve said.

  Despite being afraid to ask if having a shower meant standing outside under the hose, Micah took that option. Neve pointed to a door off the lounge.

  “There are plenty of towels in there. Pretend you’re camping.” She sniggered.

  Playful Neve was back⎯he liked her. Tentatively he opened the bathroom door and was faced with a tiny room. No bath, but at least the floor was tiled. An odd wooden louver in the ceiling caught his eye. Attached to it was a metal rod with a lever at chest height. He pulled the lever down and the louvers opened to reveal the night sky. Icy air rushed in, and he pushed it back up. The equivalent of an exhaust fan, no doubt.

  At least the water was hot. The next problem was the two unlabelled bottles on the shelf. A thick white mixture that smelt like eucalyptus—like Neve, in fact—and a runny yellow liquid that smelt a lot like honey. Not the array of body, face, and hair care products he was used to seeing in Chelsea’s bathroom, relegating his stuff to the floor. Who knew a woman could manage with two bottles?

  There had never been anyone quite like Neve in his life before. He’d known smart and sexy women, but Neve was compassionate to a fault, and that body wasn’t diet thin, but a compact package of lean muscle and feminine curves. Her lifestyle was . . .intriguing, and she’d felt so good in his arms. So soft and sweet, with supple lips. Geez, if he didn’t quiet this train of thought, he’d have to turn off the hot water.

  Chapter 22

  Neve had read the same paragraph half a dozen times and still had no idea what it said. Her mind swirled from Rowan’s confused voice on the phone that afternoon, to the sound of a slap and Chelsea’s cry, but it always returned to Micah. His round, boyish face belied the determined man she’d seen. It seemed much longer than five days since he’d walked into the kindergarten looking like hell and demanded to see his son.

  He wasn’t afraid of asking for what he wanted and was probably used to getting it too, but was clearly feeling the pressure of being separated from Rowan. At times it was difficult to remember where he came from. Times when he acted like a down-to-earth bloke, like when he was dining at the pub or sharing an omelette in her tiny kitchen.