Southern Star: Destiny Romance (21 page)

‘Well then, who?’

‘It would have to be a hell of a grudge for someone to pursue me all the way here.’ Blaze lifted her arms in a gesture of disbelief and let them fall before turning to Mac. ‘I mean, who has the depth of feeling to do that?’

‘I followed you to LA’ Mac felt his pulse pick up. He knew in that moment he was going to step off the high wire. Fuck timing, fuck the fact he could hear a cop siren in the distance.

Blaze let out a surprised laugh. ‘I can’t see you as a stalker.’ Her smile faltered as she picked up his body language.

‘I’m not but I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you needed me.’ He willed her to speak but she sat there transfixed, staring at him. ‘I don’t mean to let you go, Blaze.’

‘Mac,’ she started, still staring at him, those liquid gold eyes full of an emotion that he couldn’t decipher.

When they began to fill with tears, he panicked. She was going to turn him down – again.

‘Don’t. Just don’t. I can’t stand it when you cry. Forget it.’ He held up a hand when she went to speak. ‘What I’m trying to say is that people will go to sometimes crazy lengths for love – and for hate. They’re two sides of the same coin.’

‘You love me?’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

Mac sighed. ‘I . . .’ He stopped and turned as a police cruiser drew up beside them. ‘I’ll take Ryan up.’

‘I’m coming, too,’ Blaze replied. They got out of the car. ‘If some crazy is coming for me, I want to know exactly what I’m facing.’

‘Ms Gillespie.’ Detective Ryan nodded. ‘Mac.’

‘You made good time,’ Mac said.

‘I was at the Bradfield place. Their cows keep getting loose, and they’ve a taste for Leslie Burgess’s prize roses.’

Mac didn’t smile as he led the way into the house. ‘You been demoted?’

‘Couple of the constables are on leave. The rest of us are making up the numbers. So what have we got here?’ he asked Blaze as Mac went ahead, up the stairs.

‘I haven’t seen the bathroom yet, but from Mac’s description it’s pretty ugly.’

‘Guy’s got a real hard-on for her,’ Mac said, and opened the door to the bathroom.

Blaze walked into the bathroom, stopped in the doorway and blanched as she saw the blood-red lipstick scrawls on the mirror. Fear took a chill hold deep in her spine, but almost as quickly anger cut it loose. It was over-the-top; a Hollywood-style scare tactic.

How dare some bastard think he could scare her! In her home, her sanctuary! Hadn’t she been through the worst a woman could take and survived? She took a step into the bathroom, shaking off the comforting hand Mac had placed on her shoulder, wanting to see if the jerk had put his mark on anything else.

She saw immediately that someone had lit the candle she preferred when she was having a bath.

‘That wasn’t alight when I left earlier,’ she said, pointing.

‘Don’t touch anything,’ Ryan said, and hissed in a breath. ‘Christ! I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.’

‘That fills me with confidence, Detective Sergeant,’ she told him drily.

He shook his head, as though clearing it. ‘We will be investigating, Ms Gillespie. I can assure you of that. Any idea of when it happened?’

‘Some time late afternoon. I was in town earlier. Mac and I got back around five thirty. Rowdy and Trent usually head off around four. So most likely it happened after they left.’

‘I’ll be speaking with them. And tomorrow I’ll need to interview you formally at the station. In the meantime, you can’t stay here. Anywhere you can go for a few days? I note you don’t have any security here, apart from the dog.’

‘No,’ Blaze admitted. ‘I did think about it when I first moved back here, and then after what happened to Paddy. But I can’t protect the entire boundary of my land, and even if I alarm the doors and gates, who’s going to hear it out here?’

‘True, but less flimsy gates might deter opportunists.’

Blaze nodded. ‘I’ve felt so safe here, but that’s all changed now.’

‘She’ll be staying at Rosmerta for the time being,’ said Mac.

Blaze could have taken umbrage at his tone, but it would have been for show. Tonight she wanted,
needed
, to be with him.

‘Anyone wanting to get to Blaze will have to go through me first,’ Mac added. He gave a feral smile. ‘In fact, I’d welcome it. You might want to put that about, Ryan.’

‘Now, Mac,’ the detective cautioned. ‘I’m not looking to escalate things here. Anything happens, the law will handle it. Vigilantism went out with Charles Bronson.’

Mac put up his hands. ‘Reasonable force, Ryan. The law says reasonable force, and if that fucker comes within ten metres of Blaze, I’m going to use reasonable force to kill the bastard.’

‘Mac. I don’t like this . . .’

‘Then you be sure to catch the mongrel before I do.’

Ryan sighed the sigh of a man who knows the argument has already been lost. ‘We’ll be doing everything we can,’ he said firmly. ‘Ms Gillespie, do you have any idea who might have done this?’

‘No.’ She had been thinking about the crude message on her laptop and bathroom mirror. That was significant, she thought. The laptop represented her professional life. Most likely the perpetrator had seen the screenplay for
Siren
on there. And the mirror reflected, quite literally, Blaze as a person.

Suddenly, she realised that Mac and Detective Sergeant Ryan were both staring at her, waiting for her to continue.

When she just frowned, Mac said, ‘What? Have you thought of something?’

‘No. I . . . no. I guess I’m just spooked.’

It wasn’t a lie, although when Mac grasped her shoulder, she was aware he knew it wasn’t the whole truth, either. She needed a distraction.

‘My laptop,’ she said to Ryan. ‘In the study. They’ve written the same thing on that and I need it for work.’

Mac gave her one last searching look, and then led the way downstairs after Ryan had extinguished the candle. Blaze didn’t go into the study. She didn’t need to see the poison on her laptop again. But from the doorway she heard Detective Sergeant Ryan’s muttered expletive and folded her arms across her midriff.

‘I know you’ll need to take the laptop,’ she said. ‘But I will need a signed agreement from your boss that nothing from my laptop will be released to the media unless it pertains directly to the case.’

‘It’s standard practice to give you a receipt.’

‘I need more than that, Detective Sergeant, or I’ll have a lawyer contact you tomorrow.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘I also need a script that’s on the desk in a folder labelled
Siren
. It’s confidential, plus I need to work on it.’

She heard him shuffling papers and a moment later, he appeared with the script in hand. Blaze gave him a big smile and watched the flush rise up the man’s neck. ‘Thank you.’

‘Well.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I gather Mac told you what the LAPD have told us.’

She nodded. ‘When will they confirm . . . their findings?’

‘I don’t know, but in confidence I’ll say that Detective Fabrese is doing all he can to ensure the investigation is thorough.’

He shifted and looked at them both. ‘Anyway, I’ll need you to come in tomorrow morning and make statements. And, Ms Gillespie, perhaps you would warn Rowdy the place is out of bounds tomorrow while the forensic guys are here.’

Blaze nodded and Ryan left with the laptop in a plastic bag under his arm and a spare key for the investigative team. Blaze was only allowed to take some clothes and personal items from her bedroom once she’d told the detective that she didn’t believe anything in her bedroom had been touched. The bathroom was already sealed off with a blue and white striped tape across the doorway, which meant she’d need to buy toiletries for the duration of her stay with Mac.

They left the detective to lock up, while she left a brief phone message for Rowdy and opened the passenger door of her wagon for Paddy.

‘You won’t need your car,’ Mac told her, hands on his hips. ‘You won’t be going anywhere. At least not without me.’

Blaze echoed his stance. ‘Don’t push it,’ she said in a low voice so that Ryan couldn’t hear. She might be rattled by the break-in and grateful for the offer of temporary sanctuary, but if Mac thought she was about to meekly give up her independence, he was mistaken. ‘If I want a bodyguard, I’ll hire one, and in any case, leaving my car here might be seen as an invitation to tamper with it by whoever was here today.’

Mac’s frown darkened to a glower, but she met his look with an equally fierce frown of her own and he finally relented with a nod.

It struck her as she steered the car down the rutted track to the main road, with Mac following, that this was the first time she would stay at Rosmerta since the night she’d first met Mac. It was hard to believe that more than two months had passed since then.

That night, love had been the furthest thing from her mind. She’d had one goal only – to survive. To reach Sweet Springs before she fell apart. She’d spent the flights to Sydney, Brisbane and then Meriwether in shock, too focused on her internal misery to note much of anything or anyone. Indeed, except for a general impression of his height, breadth and impatient hostility, her first impressions of Mac had been hazy.

And now, here she was, in love with the most high-handed, persistent, impossible man. And he loved her, or was working his way around to it. Certainly he wanted her. Enough that even the endless drama that her life had become hadn’t seen him off.

When she pulled up outside Rosmerta, she realised she wasn’t sure what Mac was expecting of this. Paddy, in the passenger seat, gave a woof and she looked at him.

‘For a few days, boy. Just don’t chase the cattle or Mac’ll blame me.’

She let Paddy out. He bounded up the steps to the front porch and sat there, tongue lolling, watching as Mac pulled up his truck beside Blaze. He took her bag from her suddenly nerveless fingers. It was just for a few days, she told herself – a test run, a chance for them both to work out what they really wanted . . .

Warm fingers lifted her chin and warmer lips brushed hers. ‘Don’t worry it to death, Hollywood.’

Blaze arched her brows and pulled away from him, all trace of uncertainty banished. ‘Worry? Me?’ She gave him a saucy look over her shoulder as she sauntered towards the house.

‘Lordy.’ Amos took off his hat and fanned his face. ‘She sure is summat.’ He gestured across to the paddock where Blaze was sitting on a fence, surrounded by an enthralled Lewis, Smithy and Fred, plus a couple of casual hands brought in to help with the early muster. Last summer and the months since had been so dry that they were being forced to move some of the herd earlier than usual.

Mac grunted, focused on prising a small stone from True’s shoe. ‘Where the hell is Beau? Don’t I pay him enough to ride herd?’

‘Don’t think he’s got work top of mind right this minute.’ Amos chuckled. ‘Never seen a face so red.’

Mac glanced over to see Beau, his fair face even more florid than usual, among Blaze’s rapt audience.

To be fair, she wasn’t deliberately trying to distract the hands, but then she didn’t need to. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved, striped T-shirt. One of his battered old hats was on her head, until a gust of wind sent it spinning away. She laughed, tipping her head up to watch it fly, and the morning sun caught her hair, turning it to fire.

Mac had some sympathy for his hands. By now he should have developed some immunity to her, but like the others he was hopelessly drawn to her, and his pulse began to pound. Maybe she sensed his gaze and his arousal because she turned her head towards him, even as Lewis returned her hat.

She smiled.

Mac started to sweat, wondering how long it would be until he could be inside her again. It had been more than three weeks now since Blaze had miscarried their baby, and he knew there hadn’t been any complications because he’d asked. He was loath to push the issue, but having her sleep beside him, night after night, was going to be an agonising test of his powers of control if last night was any example.

Meanwhile, Blaze didn’t seem to have a care in the world – about either the break-in or their uncertain status. Last night she’d behaved as though they were an old married couple, giving him a peck on the cheek and snuggling into the pillow with a contented sigh, with not a word about sex or love. She’d been asleep within minutes while he’d tossed and turned. And in the morning, she had hopped out of bed when he rose, walking around half-naked as if he was a damn eunuch!

She’d been at Rosmerta less than twelve hours and she was already driving him crazy.

‘Gonna enjoy watching her leading you around by the nose,’ Amos said.

Mac had some pride. ‘Never happen, mate.’

‘Outta ya hands, boss. It’s fate. Ain’tcha heard the story of the firebird?’

Mac frowned, distracted by Beau helping Blaze down from the fence. ‘Not that I can remember. It’s not one of Bluey Jenkins’ X-rated tall tales is it? I might have heard it at the pub.’

Amos gave another wheezing chuckle. ‘No, that was about another kind of bird . . . well, never mind, it was always a bit dodgy, Bluey’s story. Nup, the one about the firebird comes from Russia or one of them foreign places – one of them old tales, ya know what I mean.’

Curiosity tweaked, Mac looked at his property manager. ‘A myth or legend?’

‘One of those. Well, the firebird was like a peacock with brilliant red, yellow and orange feathers that glow like a fire . . . a blaze. Ha! Everyone who sees it becomes kinda obsessed by it and has to have it. But it’s the bugger of all creatures to catch. And when ya do nab it, it gives ya no end of trouble.’

‘Hmmm.’ Mac turned back to Blaze as her gilded form walked back towards the house. She raised a hand as she passed, then disappeared inside. He straightened, put his hand on the reins and swung up onto True.

‘I’ve got work to do.’ He rode off.

Putting up a hand to shield his face from the fiery rays of sun, Amos grinned after him. ‘Ya sure do, boss. Ya sure do.’

Blaze looked over at Mac. Like her, he’d changed for their meeting with Ryan, and she felt it was debatable whether he was sexier in dress shirt and khakis or working shirt and jeans. And that was before you brought his Armani tux into the whole equation.

This morning she’d picked it up from his bedroom floor, where presumably it had been lying since their return from the States, and hung it in his closet with a brief reprimand. Quality clothes deserved respect.

Yes, it was superficial to be thinking of clothes at a time like this, but it helped with the nerves. She smoothed a hand down her conservative, boat-necked khaki linen dress that she had paired with high-heeled black wedges, feeling her hand shake just a little.

‘What were you and Amos up to earlier?’ she asked, to distract herself.

Mac shifted, eyes fixed on the road. ‘He was stating the bloody obvious,’ he grunted.

‘Oh?’

‘Warning me you’re trouble – like I didn’t already know.’

‘I thought he liked me,’ she said, a little miffed.

Mac turned his head momentarily, eyes unreadable. ‘He does. He gets a kick from thinking about you messing up my life.’

Blaze blew a curl off her face. She could hardly deny it when they were on their way to be interviewed by police.

It turned out to be less confronting than she had expected. Mac was being interviewed separately by Detective Sergeant Ryan’s boss, Inspector Elsom, so she followed Ryan down a badly painted corridor and requested a glass of water when he offered refreshments. He returned a minute later with a plastic cup, which she accepted gratefully.

She made her statement about yesterday’s events and Ryan asked a few more questions, but he seemed to want to keep it casual, she supposed to avoid giving her a reason to seek legal counsel.

‘You said the back door was open when you arrived home yesterday,’ he said when she fell silent.

‘Yes.’

‘Who has a key?’

‘I have two, including the one I gave to you. Rowdy Parsons has a third and Trent Blamey a fourth.’

Her phone buzzed to indicate a message, but she ignored it. Ryan looked at her. ‘Was that young Trent Blamey calling?’

‘Trent?’ She glanced at her phone. ‘Yes. How did you know?’

‘Our blokes spoke to Trent and Rowdy a short time ago. Rowdy swore he locked up yesterday, but it seems the young bloke lost his key weeks back.’

Blaze’s eyes widened. ‘He never said anything.’

Ryan shrugged. ‘He was embarrassed. But it could explain how someone got in. He said he was going to call you to apologise.’

He was silent for a few minutes and she got the impression he was weighing up his options.

‘I can’t get involved directly in the LAPD case, Ms Gillespie, you know that.’

Blaze nodded, wondering where this was going.

‘Look, I’m pretty sure I’m speaking out of turn here, but I feel there’s a political angle at play in the investigation into Mitch Redmond’s death,’ he said, finally. ‘I get the impression Detective Fabrese has been under pressure from his superiors on this case.’

‘The governor is not a fan,’ she told him. ‘He’s a born-again Christian.’

Ryan smiled. ‘Fabrese said as much. I spoke to him early today to update him on the situation here. He was very encouraging, although he wasn’t able to be specific. The sense I got was that Fabrese was suspicious about the way your DNA presented.’

‘I don’t understand.’

He hesitated. ‘Reading between the lines, Fabrese wants to exhaust any possibility that you were set up before he takes things further. I really can’t say any more, and I must warn you about getting your hopes up. You are by no means in the clear yet.

‘However, given that there are people in positions of power whose standing might benefit from a conviction against you, I would seriously advise you to seek legal advice. Have you consulted a lawyer?’

‘No, not since leaving LA,’ she admitted. ‘Officially, I’m still a witness. When I was interviewed by police in January, I wanted to help. I still do. I don’t have anything to hide. But, rationally, I understand that the LAPD can’t ignore the fact that I was the last person to see Mitch alive.’ She sighed. ‘Except for his killer.’

‘Why do you think Mitch Redmond was killed?’

‘At the time, I thought . . . maybe a robbery gone wrong. That’s still the most likely explanation, isn’t it?’ She looked at Ryan hopefully but he stayed mute. ‘Then I thought that maybe I was the target at the movie festival. That perhaps a fan of Mitch’s – someone who believed I’d murdered him – was so enraged they decided to take the law into their own hands but accidentally killed Beth Laurensen instead of me.’

‘Sounds reasonable.’

‘Or that I was the target both times. I had been at Mitch’s, maybe the killer expected to find me still there.’ She watched the time on the wall clock tick around to one. ‘Mac thinks someone might be trying to punish me. Might have followed me here.’

Ryan raised his eyebrows. ‘Does he?’

‘But it doesn’t explain Peggy Fairchild. I didn’t know her.’ She went to continue and stopped with a laugh. ‘You’re very good at this. Sitting there and saying nothing while I spill my guts.’

Ryan grinned. ‘Don’t stop now.’

She shook her head. ‘I think Mac’s overreacting after yesterday, but I can’t deny I’m creeped out.’

He held her gaze. ‘Are you in an intimate relationship with Macauley Black, Ms Gillespie?’

Blaze waited a beat before nodding, wondering what Mac had told his friend. ‘Is this relevant?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

‘Yes.’

‘I see.’

‘Did Mac tell you something different?’

He ignored her question. ‘When did the relationship begin?’

‘Some weeks ago. What difference does that make?’ she shot back.

‘Was Mac the father of your miscarried child?’

She closed her eyes and nodded. ‘I’ll remind you of my right to privacy. If this becomes public knowledge, I will take legal action.’

‘I take it that’s a “yes”.’ He looked up at a knock on the door and went to answer it. The inspector came into the room.

‘Can I have a word, Detective Sergeant?’

‘Excuse me,’ he murmured. Blaze could hear nothing through the door, but he returned less than a minute later.

‘Is everything all right?’

He nodded. ‘Mac has confirmed your relationship. I think we have everything we need for now. Forensics has finished at Sweet Springs so you’re free to return.’

‘Thank you. Rowdy will be pleased he can get back to work,’ she said as he walked her to Mac, who was pacing impatiently at the front desk. His eyes darkened when he saw her.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked her.

‘Yes.’

He shot an impenetrable look Detective Sergeant Ryan’s way as he pulled her in close, the first possessive move he’d made in public since they’d returned from the US. But since their secret was already halfway out, was there any point in trying to hide it?

‘Let’s go.’ He walked her to the door.

‘I can go back to Sweet Springs,’ she told him.

‘Over my dead fucking body,’ he growled, his grip tightening

Blaze let out a silent sigh of relief and gave him a dazzling smile.

The dog was going to die.

Right now, it was sitting outside the old stockman’s hut. Every so often the dog growled low and menacingly, showing its teeth, while its eyes glowed red in the dark. One look had been enough. The door was staying shut till dawn.

From its response, it clearly remembered the incident at the waterhole and could give the whole game away if someone decided to follow it.

No one had – yet – but tomorrow, who knew? It meant another move, and the barn at Sweet Springs was looking the likeliest option, particularly now the cops had finished their investigation. The bitch was at Rosmerta now, and days just meant avoiding the hired help.

Avoiding or eliminating.

‘Bloody dog,’ Mac muttered, swinging long legs out of bed. Blaze came awake as the lamp clicked on.

‘What?’

‘He’s scratching at Peggy’s door again.’

‘Leave him. He’ll settle eventually.’

Mac ignored her, something he’d been doing a lot of since she’d arrived at Rosmerta. Sighing, she shrugged into a robe and followed him out. Paddy whined when he saw them, and returned to scratching the door.

‘Paddy!’ Blaze threw open the door for the second night running to show him it was empty. He dived beneath the neatly made bed and dragged out a cap.

‘Down! Paddy.’ Blaze gingerly picked up the hat, which was now ripped and slobbered on. ‘I’m going to have to buy Peg a new hat.’

‘And keep Paddy away from her when she starts back tomorrow.’

‘Amos is clearly delighted his stint as cook was so short-lived.’ Blaze yawned. When Mac didn’t answer, she saw he was staring intently at the cap she was holding. ‘What is it?’

‘Peg’s sixty-one. She doesn’t wear caps like that.’ He looked around the room. ‘This is the temp cook’s. She was using this room while Peg was out of action.’

‘I’ll offer to replace it.’ Paddy was sniffing at the cap so she let him have it. It was ruined in any case. ‘Can we please go back to bed?’

They followed the dog back into the master suite.

‘That’s the thing,’ Mac said. ‘She was only here for a few weeks and left days ago. Why would Paddy be so interested in her cap when he never had any contact with her?’

Blaze groaned. ‘Who knows why dogs do half the things they do! That’s why they’re dogs and we’re humans. Anyway, he’s gone to bed.’ She pointed at where Paddy was curled up on his cushion in the corner of the room, eyes closed.

Maybe she needed to make the next move to get their relationship back on track. ‘I’ll make it worth your while to follow his example,’ she said as she pushed him back on the bed and, sliding down his body, applied her mouth to make him groan. And Mac forgot all about cooks and caps and dogs.

‘God, I can’t wait until —’ His teeth stung her nipple and she cried out as he turned them so she was beneath him, her thighs opening on his demand, head arched back in sensual delight. His thumb brushed her apex, and she shuddered. Against her thigh she felt the fullness of him and ached for the long slow glide deep inside her. Nearly a month of abstinence had seemed like a year.

‘It’s okay,’ she managed. ‘I saw the doctor yesterday . . . said whenever I felt ready.’

He pushed up on a fist, looked at her with those eyes. ‘You’re sure?’