In Safe Arms (10 page)

For the first time since he’d wrestled her into the ute, Josie’s face broke into a smile, a wide megawatt flash that illuminated her entire face.

Nate’s heart tripped and he couldn’t look away. He’d seen her smile like that when she’d danced at the engagement party, and when he’d teased her at Grace and Poole while killing time waiting to see Allegra.

And just this morning, she’d smiled like that at the baby in the supermarket.

‘Come on,’ he said, an idea forming in his mind. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’

Ignoring her “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about” expression, he pointed to her bare feet. ‘You’ll need shoes.’

While Josie put on her boots, he fetched the Maglite from the WRX then waited in the kitchen. When she appeared a few minutes later, he cocked his head in the direction of the door. ‘Ready?’

Her eyes widened. ‘We’re going out?’

He nodded. ‘Don’t look so excited, it’s not exactly clubbing.’

‘I hate clubbing.’

Outside, Josie squinted in the darkness, barely able to make out the overgrown pathway curving through what looked like a cottage garden.

The house was perched on the edge of the valley, and this afternoon she’d stood at the bedroom window watching the cable car lift tourists high above the heavily wooded valleys and gorges. At that time, the mountains had been bathed in the famous blue light after which they were named. Now, a smattering of stars and a shadowed slice of moon pierced the cloak of darkness wrapping around them.

‘See those two luminous stars?’

Josie looked up and studied the sky. ‘Is that the Southern Cross — because that would be just a little bit creepy?’

He gave a low chuckle. ‘No, the Southern Cross is the most famous constellation, but the Centaurus is the brightest in the Southern Hemisphere. Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri. Much brighter up here than in the city.’

‘They’re beautiful.’ She glanced at the Alpha Centauri beside her, hyperaware of his hand on her arm. Crickets chirped, and a faint aroma of orange blossom and diosma perfumed the evening air. ‘Where are we going?’

He pointed with the torch, though he hadn’t switched it on. ‘There’s an old air raid shelter at the bottom of the garden. It’s built into the hill, obscured by vines and shrubs. Undetectable, even in the daylight.’

‘Is solitary confinement really necessary?’ She had the urge to tease. He’d been nice about the food thing at lunch, and she was buoyed by the news the operation could move swiftly now.

‘Well, let’s consider your misdemeanours. Biting a policeman, kicking a policeman, swearing at a — ‘

‘Okay, okay. So it’s rations for me.’

‘And a week in the hole — minimum, if you’re lucky.’

Something big shot out of the grass beside her and she clutched at Nate, the reaction instinctive, her body in motion before her mind could catch up.

To her surprise, he wrapped a warm, muscular arm around her waist and drew her close against his side. ‘Strange, how I’ve suddenly become the lesser of two evils.’

Heat flooded through Josie’s body, heart banging in a way she could get used to. ‘What was
that
?’

‘Probably just a bunny.’ His fingers squeezed her waist through the cotton material of her track top, sending a delightful buzz humming along her veins.

‘Really?’

‘No not really.’ He dipped his head, mouth close to her ear, breath warm in her hair. ‘There’s a goanna around here. He eats all the bunnies.’

The night shrouded them in an intimate darkness, so even the shadowy outlines of trees and shrubs were no longer visible. ‘Yeah, yeah, keep going senior, and I might just believe you.’

Oh gees, was that her voice, all breathy and excited? His body heat seared into her side, igniting a flame within, and suddenly it seemed perfectly natural to angle her body towards him and slide a reciprocal arm around his waist.

He pulled her closer, the decisive move scrambling her senses like words in a decoding machine. He handled her body with a man’s confidence, a man experienced with female anatomy by the feel of it. Moulded to his side, her hipbone brushed his thigh as they walked, the top of her head barely reaching his chin.

And then all too soon, it was over.

He came to a halt and switched on the torch. ‘We’re here.’

Josie blinked in the sudden light. She was staring at a wall of greenery.

They separated, and she turned, couldn’t help gasping as she stared at the wrought iron feature through which they’d come. An arbour arched overhead, and when Nate pointed the torch skyward, she could see a thick coverage of wisteria that had blocked out the breeze, the clouds and even the moon.

‘No wonder everything went so quiet. It’s beautiful. Why couldn’t I see this from the house?’

‘It’s off to one side. During World War II, the owner hollowed out a part of the hill. He built the arbour to disguise the entrance. In recent times, it’s been useful as a bushfire shelter. I don’t lock it for that reason.’

He turned back to the wall in front of them and began tearing away long pieces of vine. Then he thrust a hand through the foliage and groped around. ‘There’s a handle in here.’ He gave a grunt. There was a rusty squeak, and then a perfectly rectangular, vine covered door swung open.

‘Ever hear a strange crying from behind the door, detective?’

He gave her a blank look. ‘I won’t even pretend to know what that means.’

Josie smiled. ‘
The Secret Garden
. One of my favourite novels as a child. I used to pretend I was Mary. Looking back, I probably identified with her in some way.’

‘Fair enough.’ He shone the torch into the room. ‘I identify with vignerons. I turned it into a wine cellar.’

Delighted, Josie ducked her head and followed him inside.

The room was concrete, the walls hidden by hexagonal shaped terracotta wine racks, stacked together in a honeycomb format. The furnishings were sparse, one plastic armchair, a mat, and a small, metal stepladder, the roof so high that even a man of Nate’s height couldn’t reach the highest racks.

He shone the torch around the man-made dug out. ‘I never saw the point of hooking up the electricity.’

Josie shivered. ‘Maybe you should, it’s cold in here.’

For the barest second his eyes swept over her. ‘Perfect temperature for a wine cellar. Don’t worry, we won’t be staying long.’

He swiped a few cobwebs away, and they spent the next ten minutes rotating wine bottles by the light of the torch.

‘I’ll have to spend some time in here when all this is over,’ he said, sliding a bottle from one of the racks and reading the label. ‘Many of these are perfectly aged.’

Josie studied his face in the low light, the arched brows, the deep set eyes, the sexy crevice in the middle of his geometrically perfect chin. Despite her declaration to the contrary, Nate Hunter was a definite nine on anyone’s scale.

He turned and caught her watching him, held out the bottle of wine. ‘This one’s perfect for a twenty-first celebration.’

Touched by his thoughtfulness, and a little embarrassed she’d been caught checking him out, she took the bottle and brushed the dust from the label. ‘
Penfolds Grange 1994
. It looks rare, expensive.’

When she looked up, his eyes glittered in the dark. ‘It’s perfect.’

A warmness spread across Josie’s cheeks, but she ignored it, determined not to read too much into Nate’s comments. She’d already made that mistake once before.

‘I wouldn’t have picked you as a wine buff, detective, more a boutique beer kind of guy.’

‘Well, I’m more forty-two than thirty-two, remember. Anyway, I wanted to show you a safe hideaway, should you need it.’

Josie stilled, the little bubble of happiness bursting inside her as she recalled his words.
It’s your safe house too. It’s crucial you learn the layout
.

She followed him out of the bunker. ‘I’m not safe in the house?’

He pulled the door closed and cocked his head, indicating they begin making their way back. ‘You are while I’m here.’

‘And if you’re not?’ Josie searched his face, but his inscrutable expression told her nothing. ‘You think someone will come here?’

‘I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting Barry Simpson to turn up. It’s an emergency option, that’s all.’

When they reached the beginning of the arbour, he switched off the torch and tucked it under his arm, placing his hand in the small of her back as they negotiated the pathway to the kitchen.

Ensuring the safety of his star witness, no doubt, Josie thought sourly. Keeping her in one piece — until it was time for her to testify.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost stumbled when Nate came to a sudden halt and put a finger to his lips.

‘Someone went down the side of the house,’ he whispered, steering her off the path and close to a large rhododendron. ‘Stay here. Use the bottle as a weapon and scream if you need me.’

He reached under the leg of his jeans and took his gun from the calf holster. ‘I’ll take a look.’

Body going weak with fear, Josie stepped closer into the foliage, watching Nate’s tall outline merge with the darkness. A few moments later she saw him pass by the kitchen window, then disappear around the corner of the house.

Standing amidst the oval shaped leaves, Josie tucked the bottle under her arm, high cirrus clouds shifting across the sky and bathing the garden in soft moonlight. From her position, she could just make out the back wall of the house and the enclosed verandah up top.

Something crawled up her calf, and she leaned down and slapped at it, swearing under her breath as the insect exploded, leaving a warm, wet mass in her palm. As she straightened, a branch caught in her hair, a sharp twig scratching the side of her neck.

She was shaking the dead insect off her hand, when something rustled in the bush again. The movement sent the cicadas quiet, ending their raucous love song with an abrupt cut-off.

Josie stared at the darkness, heart vibrating in her chest.

And then a shadow emerged from the undergrowth and sauntered towards her on four stout legs, elongated neck close to the ground, snake like tongue flicking from a mouth filled with sharp teeth.

More than a metre long, it was the largest goanna Josie had ever seen.

She lurched sideways before the reptile could rear up on its hind legs and run at her. Taking the bottle from under her arm she stumbled onto the path, knees trembling. The goanna’s nest was probably burrowed out between the roots of the rhododendron.

She was almost at the backdoor when a footstep scuffed in the ground behind her.

‘Hold it right there!’

Male voice, the command bitten out.

High octane adrenaline surged into Josie’s body, infusing her with energy and burning up her fear. She’d well and truly had enough of this shit!

She screamed for Nate, swivelling on the balls of her feet, wielding the makeshift weapon like a baseball bat, knees bent, full body weight behind a huge follow through.

With luck — she’d take the bastard’s head off.

But the Grange failed to connect with anything solid, and it took all her balance just to stay on her feet.

Breath coming hard and fast, she looked up to see a man illuminated in the light from the window.

Bald. Wiry.

And with a gun pointed right at her heart.

‘Drop it.’ Nate jammed the gun barrel into the back of Dickson’s skull, watching Josie back away, the bottle still clutched in her hands.

His controller went still, then cautiously lowered his weapon.

‘What are you doing here, Dickson?’

‘I thought you could use my help.’

Nate didn’t budge. ‘Why sneak around? Our usual communication is by text.’

‘I sent one when I arrived.’ There was a defensive ring to his partner’s voice. ‘I was sitting in the car, thought I saw something move down the side of the house.’

Above Dickson’s head, Nate’s eyes locked with Josie’s.

And then his controller turned, forcing him to take a step back.

‘There was a moving light down the back of the property.’

Nate lowered the gun, satisfied with the answer. He had to give Dickson the benefit of the doubt. He and Josie had been outside for at least half an hour, and it had been remiss of him not to take his phone.

‘That was us.’ He looked at Josie again. She was panting like she’d run a marathon, eyes shifting between him and Dickson. She seemed okay, despite having had a gun trained on her.

Nate dragged his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. ‘Josie, go inside. Dickson and I will do a sweep of the property in case someone’s hanging around.’

To his relief, she didn’t argue, just brushed past him, clearly desperate to escape them both.

Nate pointed to the northern boundary. ‘I’ll go this way, you take the southern side. I doubt there’s anyone else. We’ve probably just spotted each other.’

Five minutes later they met again at the back door.

‘Clear?’ Nate asked.

‘All clear.’

‘
Jesus
, you took a bloody risk coming up here,’ Nate growled. ‘Are you sure you weren’t followed?’

‘I’m sure. And what the hell’s going on? Who’s the flashy chick?’

Nate almost snarled, and it took an exercise in restraint not to pin Dickson to the wall. At twenty-six, the controller was a bit of an upstart, keen to rise in the ranks. Not that Nate could fault him for that. Like him, Dickson was hungry for a conviction.

It really wasn’t surprising he’d turned up here.

Nate jammed a lid on his anger and spent the next few minutes bringing Dickson up to speed. When he finished, the younger man looked him up and down, a smirk on his face. ‘You should lock her inside, not take her for a moonlight stroll.’

‘You should remember I’m your superior.’

Nate cocked his head, and with one last scan of the back yard, followed Dickson into the kitchen. Josie was washing her hands and observing his partner with a healthy degree of suspicion, blonde curls framing her face where they’d escaped her ponytail.

‘Josephine Valenti — my controller, Dickson Cross,’ Nate said by way of introduction, irritated at the flash of interest in Dickson’s eyes as they swept over Josie. ‘Dickson — Josie.’