In Safe Arms (9 page)

‘Hey.’

Nate looked up. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t heard her get up. She was standing in the doorway, face still pink with sleep.

‘Hey.’

Josie ran her hands up and down her bare arms and glanced at the TV. ‘Any news this afternoon?’

Nate pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘Lizard Mulvaney’s body has been formally identified. Nothing on you so far. The news is just about to start.’

Josie perched on the edge of the lounge and folded her arms across her stomach, aware of Nate’s scrutiny. She’d stayed in her room until the last possible moment, imagining the media frenzy that was sure to accompany her disappearance. And now, her legs trembled and the blood pounded in her head, so even the familiar programming music coming through Nate’s Bose speakers seemed muted.

And then her face appeared on screen, the photograph taken at her Year 12 formal, nearly four years ago.

‘
Ahead in the news. Fears held for the daughter of prominent Sydney businessman, Silvano Valenti. The Prime Minister assures the Australian public the government will turn in a surplus budget, and the NRL footy season kicks off tonight with a rematch between last year’s grand finalists.’

Josie wiped her clammy palms on her shorts, nausea churning her stomach as the network logo disappeared from screen and the cameras panned to the news anchors in the studio.

‘Grave fears are held tonight for the safety of Josephine Valenti, daughter of prominent property tycoon, Silvano Valenti, and his wife, Marilyn. Josephine Valenti’s damaged car was found abandoned in the Kur-ring-Gai Chase National Park in the early hours of this morning, not far from the Valenti home. The high profile couple flew in from Singapore this afternoon. We now cross to Channel Nine reporter, Melissa Manning, who was at Kingsford Smith Airport, when the Valenti’s chartered Gulfstream touched down minutes ago.’

Josie sucked in her breath as her parents came on screen, mother dressed in a smart white suit, shoulder length blonde hair perfectly styled. She kept her face averted, and didn’t once look at the camera.

But her father, as dark as her mother was fair, spoke to the huddle of reporters, his voice accompanied by the constant click of camera shutters. ‘As I’m sure you can appreciate, both Marilyn and I are shocked and distraught to learn our only daughter, Josephine, is missing.’

‘Oh, Dad.’ The whispered words escaped Josie’s lips as at least a dozen microphones were thrust into her father’s face.

‘At this point, I can only say police are doing everything they can to get to the bottom of this matter, and I ask that you respect our family’s privacy during this difficult and trying time. Thank you.’

He gave reporters a brief nod and then handed her mother into the rear seat of a waiting sedan. All around them, police were on hand fending off more questions from the media.

‘Melissa,’ the anchor asked, ‘what do police think happened last night?’

‘Police believe Josephine Valenti’s car was forced off the road sometime between 10:00 p.m. and midnight as she left her parents’ home in Cottage Point. She is the only child and sole beneficiary of the Valenti family fortune. From the moment she was born, fears have been held for her safety, and now the family’s worst fears have been realised. Tonight, they anxiously await communication from the kidnappers, re their ransom demand.’

Kidnappers? Surely the police would have known from her phone call that that wasn’t the case.

And then the picture changed and another photograph appeared on screen. Tears pricked Josie’s eyes and her throat ached with the effort not to break down. It was a picture of her mother, holding her at some social function when she was about eighteen months old.

Beside her, Nate could have been a statue.

Josie blinked, trying to clear her rapidly blurring vision, heart pounding so hard it was starting to make her feel sick. But she would not cry in front of Nate Hunter. Even now, it hurt when she recalled his words from that earlier time.

‘It’s not your fault you’re young and stupid. But you’re putting yourself in a vulnerable situation drinking like this.’

Clinging to that memory, Josie sniffed and swallowed her salty tears. No matter how bad things got, Nate would
never
see her cry.

‘What do we know of the Valenti family, Melissa?’ the anchor was asking.

‘Yes, Marilyn Valenti is known in social circles as the queen of Sydney fundraising, helping to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars annually for a variety of hospitals and needy causes. The socialite created headlines once, describing Josephine as her “must have accessory” which raised eyebrows and caused quite a stir at the time. Josie, as she’s known, was highly visible in her early years, but spent most of her young life out of the public eye at the exclusive Ascham School for Girls in Edgecliff. Due to celebrate her twenty-first birthday this Thursday, Josephine keeps a low profile, working as assistant to prominent lawyer, Allegra Greenwood, at the Sydney office of Grace and Poole, and running an early childhood music school on weekends. We ask anyone with information to call…’

The reporter read out the number which flashed on the bottom on the screen, and then the anchor thanked her for the report and moved onto the next story.

Nate muted the sound and glanced across at Josie. She sat lifeless as a shop mannequin, back rigid as she stared blindly at the carpet.

Fighting against a natural instinct to reach out and comfort her, Nate settled for shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. ‘Hey, this is good…’

She moved so quickly, she took him by surprise, jumping to her feet and running from the room.

Nate stared after her.

Okay
.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and started to follow, halting when the sliding door in her bedroom banged closed. She’d stepped out onto the enclosed verandah.

Nate blew out a breath. That was okay. She was obscured by darkness out there, and she obviously needed time alone.

And he was probably the last person she wanted to see right now.

6:30 p.m. Monday

Allegra looked up to see Luke standing in the doorway of her corner office, short cropped fair hair shining under the fluorescents. She put her dictation handset on the desk and beckoned him inside, watching as he closed the door.

‘How did you go with the police?’

‘They’re moving quickly.’ He came around the desk to give her a hug then folded his tall frame into one of the ergonomic designed client chairs. ‘I have some news, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.’

Allegra sat up straighter, mouth turning dry like it did when she was about to address the Court. She knew from her husband’s measured tone, whatever he was about to reveal was significant, much as he might downplay it.

‘The police are checking camera images within a specified radius around the Valenti’s house. Some of the shots are hit and miss, because primarily they try and get the plate number. But in a lot of cases, the driver’s face is visible.’

Allegra nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

‘I think I saw Nate in a lime green ute.’

‘Nate?’ Allegra blinked as her mind made the jump. ‘Nate, who used to work for you?’

‘Nate Hunter.’

Allegra frowned. ‘How is that relevant?’

Luke leaned forward in his seat. ‘Because he looked like a bikie, and I almost didn’t recognise him. No shirt, hair down to his shoulders, and a three day growth. And he had the whole bikie bling thing going on.’

Allegra felt the blood leave her face. ‘Did you tell the police?’

Luke’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘No. We can’t say anything.’

‘Why not?’

‘Nate’s a member of the gang squad, Ally. I gave him a job when he got stood down for a bit.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘He was a top bloke, and a smart cop. I was sorry to see him go.’

Needing something for her dry mouth, Allegra reached under her desk and opened the small bar fridge. She took out two Diet Cokes and passed one across the desk to Luke.

‘Thanks.’ There was a hiss of air as he twisted off the cap.

Allegra twisted the top off her own bottle and poured the liquid into an empty glass on her desk. ‘What do we do?’

‘Nothing. There’s a chance he could be undercover with one of the gangs. Ally, you know I don’t believe in coincidences. Nate looked like a bikie, and he was in the area when Josie went missing. If I’m right, she may have a very small chance. I know he’d do everything he could to help her — if she’s alive.’

Despite his warning not to, some of the tension left Allegra’s body and she couldn’t help the tiny spark of hope that flared up inside her. ‘Oh, Luke!’

‘No —
please
don’t get your hopes up. I could be wrong. I was in two minds whether or not to tell you.’

Allegra smiled at her husband across the desk. ‘I’m glad you did, Commander.’

He smiled back, grey eyes softening, the scar on his cheek moving a fraction. ‘I can’t get involved, you understand that don’t you? I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, that’s all. Any interference could put his life at risk.’

‘Of course.’ Allegra took a sip of her drink. ‘I remember him mucking around with Josie. She liked him. They got quite cosy at our engagement.’

‘I can’t give you a cast iron guarantee, but I’m fairly certain it was him.’

He swallowed a mouthful of Diet Coke and grimaced at the taste. ‘How long until you get out of here, Counsellor? I’ll buy you a glass of wine on the way home.’

7:00 p.m. Monday

When Josie hadn’t come inside an hour later, Nate began to worry. He wanted to talk about the broadcast, and he needed to know she was alright.

Twenty-one this week!

Hell, what a birthday present.

She hadn’t mentioned it.

Maybe she wasn’t such a princess after all.

He paced the hallway, mulling over the personal aspects of her life, like what was the deal with her “you can never be too rich or too thin” mother? He could never imagine his own mother referring to him, or any of his siblings, as a “must have accessory”. To be fair, it did sound like a bit of a throwaway line that had turned into a media beat up.

And Josie taught pre-schoolers music?

‘Okay, princess, you’ve had your space,’ he muttered to himself, sauntering into the unoccupied guest room and sliding open the verandah door.

Cool mountain air drifted in as Nate stepped onto the screened verandah. He stood for a few moments, letting his eyes adjust before making his way over to where Josie was curled up in the egg chair.

Her voice came out of the dark. ‘Missing me already, Senior Detective?’

Was he?

For once, he didn’t retaliate.

Her flippancy was a front, effective, but a front nonetheless. Strange how he could pick it in the dark, when not distracted by her face.

He cleared his throat. ‘How long are you going to stay out here?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Yeah. We need to talk.’

Her answer was to shift over and make room for him — in the one person egg chair.

A visual of getting up close and personal with Josie crashed into Nate’s brain, sending a jolt of awareness through his system.

Okay, if that’s the way she wanted to play it.

He leaned forward, grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet. ‘Get up.’

She came upright, pushing him in the chest with her free hand. ‘What’s your problem, Nate?’

‘Be quiet,’ he bit out between his teeth. ‘We’re not talking out here.’

He threaded his fingers through hers and led the way back along the verandah. ‘
Christ
, Josie, you’re freezing.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Your skin’s like ice.’ Nate shook his head, exasperated. When would they stop going hard at each other like this?

Back in the guest room, he unzipped his surf hoodie and shrugged it off, holding it open so she could slip her arms inside. ‘Put this on.’

‘Okay, don’t fuss.’ She looked flustered by his concern, as if she wasn’t used to someone looking out for her.

‘You’re in shorts and a singlet.’

‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, wrapping the hoodie around her. ‘You’ll make a good father one day, detective.’

For the second time in twenty-four hours, her words probed at the open wound in his chest, dredging up memories two-and-a-half years old. Holding the small boys’ shuddering frame, reassuring him he’d be back to visit one day. Unwrapping the chubby arms from around his neck and telling him to be good to his mother, then disappearing into the crowd headed for the departure gate, too choked up to look back.

Nate rubbed his palm over his heart and watched Josie sit on the bed. Now wasn’t the time to bemoan life’s tough choices, it was time to help the woman right here. The one looking at him with a puzzled expression on her pretty face, like if she looked hard enough, she might just work him out.

‘I understand watching that broadcast was difficult,’ he began, ‘but it’s all good news for us.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘How do you figure that?’

Ignoring her dry tone, he continued on. ‘The police haven’t revealed the link between your disappearance and Mulvaney’s death. Thinking about it, it’s a deliberate tactic. They
want
the bikies to think they’re in the clear, to prevent them going to ground. As for Kennett, he’ll assume I carried out his order, and
you
never made it to the police station.’

Josie sat straighter. ‘What will he do?’

‘The Southern Cross will be in disarray. It’ll take time for them to regroup after Mulvaney’s death and elect a new leader. Kennett will capitalise on that. He’ll set the Altar Boys in motion, claim the turf while he can.’

Josie’s eyes shone, and for once Nate dared to hope the assignment might end sooner rather than later. ‘Kennett owes me big time, and I’m already very close. Once I find out who’s collecting the money, I’ll get a name and that will lead to another name. The overseer will be camouflaged by companies and trusts, but the undercover stuff will be over. It’ll be forensic accounting from then on.’