Tumble Creek (33 page)

‘All right—jeez!' Claudia sang out then muttered, ‘It's not my house, you know.'

She had a point; ear to the door, Sofie listened and waited.

Brock's soft mouth caressed her other ear and then he whispered, ‘Babe, our new house, I'm also setting up an intercom security system with a front door camera.'

She nodded and his lips played over her skin. He moved away, quickly drying himself and hauling on his clothes.

Claudia made her feelings known about having to leave her bed and answer the door. She muttered and thumped her feet all the way down the hall, and then she yelled. ‘Who is it?!'

A muffled voice replied, but Sofie couldn't make out who it was.

‘Babe, I'll handle it. It's either Raff or my parents. Take your time, get comfy, and come out when you're ready.' He picked her up, swung her around away from the door, kissed her, and left.

The sound of happy voices—Brock's parents', Sofie recognised—floated past and headed for the kitchen. She bundled her clothes under one arm and, wrapped in a towel, wet hair hanging around her face, Sofie opened the door and tiptoed into their bedroom. She dressed in a pair of warm stylish slate-grey cords, light grey jumper, and the socks she had on earlier. She raked a comb through her hair, fluffed the curls out, applied a touch of make-up, and headed for the kitchen.

The scene stopped her in her tracks. Sofie hung back and took a moment to get her head around what Brock had said earlier. The man in question stood and strode to her side giving her a big smile that lit his face.

‘Why are you hugging the doorway?' he asked.

‘What you said this morning about Michelle,' she whispered, ‘and there she is, sitting next to Raffie.' She nudged Brock with her elbow. ‘Look, leaning into him, giggling. All we need now is Jen, Calum, and Connie, but especially Calum to see his young sister flirting and, I don't know, but whatever she's doing, it seems to be working.'

Brock whispered in her ear, ‘Just reminding you, but she is seventeen?'

‘True and very mature, level-headed …' Sofie trailed off watching them, then said, ‘At least she was.'

‘Prepare yourself, Babe. Claudia—'

Sofie clamped a hand over his mouth. ‘Shush!' she gave him big eyes, pretending to be panicked. ‘I've lived through one heartbreak with Claud, not in any hurry to see another.'

‘At least Tak has his heart set on someone else.'

The doorbell rang through the house and Doreen sang out, ‘Someone's at the foot …' Frustrated lines etched her face. Walter whispered in her ear, and smiling brightly she finished with, ‘the door.'

‘Thanks, Mum, I'll get it.' Brock turned to Sofie. ‘Raff brought Danish pastries and muffins, everyone's got coffee, 'cept you.' He grinned, and strode out to open the front door.

***

‘Tak, come in mate. You look like shit. What's up?'

Takumi stepped in and closed the door behind him. ‘Been at it eighteen hours straight. Need a beer 'n' sleep. Saw your dad's car out front, so I'll be quick. First, Jett's prints taken from the cottage match the ones on the truck he used to demolish Sofie's house.' Then he mumbled, ‘The friggin' dick-wad.' He locked eyes with Brock's questioning ones and said, ‘Well he is—totally.' He scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘Sofie is a good person, how'd she end up with that?' He shuddered.

‘Don't know, but she was young and trying to escape from parents who never had anything good to say,' Brock stated, anger beginning to rise inside that his sweet Sofie could be treated that way.

‘Yeah but that fool?' Takumi's whisper harsh.

‘Tak,' Brock endeavoured to help his friend understand, ‘Sofe couldn't tell her parents to go to hell so found the attention she needed and married it. Someone she believed was the opposite. Unfortunately, he switched sides.'

‘Says a lot that Sofie's uncle banned them from attending his funeral. I'd want to screw with their lives as well.'

‘Yeah. Those girls worked hard to keep them away that day.' Brock grinned. ‘And I'm a lucky bastard Sofie decided to make her home here.'

Takumi leaned in close and said with a severity Brock rarely saw, ‘You know that girl would walk through walls of fire for you.'

Eyes narrow, Brock jerked back. ‘I get that feeling, mate. She loves me more than breath, I see it, I feel it. Sofie's getting the same from me. We're spending the rest of our lives together and nothing's going to change that.' Without warning, fear crashed through him. He breathed deeply, looked down at his shaking hands, and muttered, ‘It can't happen here, it can't.'

‘Mate.' Takumi grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to stop and face him. ‘Talk!' he ordered.

‘It's fear, Tak. Fear of losing Sofe.' His heart thumped, his mind brought up images he needed to control, and put back into their proper perspective.

‘Yeah, mate. I get you. But that woman down there,' Takumi waggled a finger pointing down the hall, ‘isn't goin' anywhere. There's nothin' to worry about.'

‘No, she isn't, but fate, karma, destiny, whatever label you want to stick to it …' Brock focused on calm even breaths.

‘Are you gunna fuckin' faint?' Takumi snapped, quietly. ‘Cos I don't like the colour of your skin, and I sure as hell am
not
gunna give you mouth to mouth.' Slowly, a huge grin eased into his face. ‘You fall down, I'm callin' Sofe.'

‘I'm fine,' Brock growled. ‘Mouth to mouth isn't as important as chest compressions. And doing that causes the air in and out of the—'

‘Shut the fuck up!' Takumi whispered, his grin widening. ‘Listen to yourself.'

He grabbed Brock's hand and pulled him in for a super-human man-hug, slapping him on the back was extra, and then he backed off just as quickly as he'd started. ‘You okay now?'

‘Yeah, I think you just fixed it,' Brock said fighting a grin.

‘Cool, I can work miracles.' Takumi grinned with false pride.

‘You know egos are banned in this town,' Brock warned.

‘Yeah, I wouldn't dare have one o' those.' Takumi cracked up laughing at himself.

‘We done with this?' Brock asked, getting himself back together and receiving a nod. Brows arched he said, ‘Good. Got anything else?'

‘Yeah, there's an arrest warrant out on Jett Olsen. Sydney police went to his address—he's legged it. They talked to his ex, Mercedes Fitzgibbon, and she was very obliging with information. He sold his car for cash. They hunted all his known haunts, and so far nothing, no sighting, and no one knows where he is. They know about him pressuring Sofie into his car for a so-called talk. If anything comes up they'll let us know.'

‘I knew it,' Brock grumbled.

‘Yeah. Also, Ms Fitzgibbon.' Brock fought an eye-roll. ‘I know, she's from a wealthy family, but apparently she's a nice person. The message is, Jett lied about his wife and daughter. She didn't know until the twins were on their way. She was angry, but tried to make a go of it. She wants to make contact, would like the twins to know their half-sister, and hopefully Sofie.'

‘Yep, we need a much bigger house.' Brock chuckled, glancing down the hall. He turned back and found Takumi, face intense, rubbing his jaw. ‘What else you got?'

‘Got news at the station, the fraud squad arrested three men and charged them with bank theft. Millions of dollars siphoned off accounts.'

Brock frowned and asked, ‘How?'

‘Easy, small and medium accounts after interest might come to one hundred dollars and ten point three three cents. The computer rounds it out to ten cents. The point three three three automatically pops into their account. Millions of accounts, patience and a couple of years later, you're sitting on a pile of money. A millions-of-dollars pile.'

‘Fuck!' Brock barked out, and sent a quick glance down the hall to see if anyone had come out to investigate. All good, he turned back to face Takumi. ‘You're not finished?'

‘No, it's the same head office Britt worked at. My guess is, she did an internal audit, made the discovery, but one, or maybe all three, happened to see what she was up to. Before she could pass on the info to authorities, they threatened her with harming her family or close friends, or both. She wouldn't have worried about her own safety, I know that for a fact.'

‘That's fucked up. I'm guessing the harder we look for Britt the harder she's going to hide.' Brock studied his partner's reaction. Takumi's dark eyes and face set in hard, grim lines. Brock handed him a lifeline. ‘Wherever she is, this is big news and she'll find out … come back home.'

‘Yeah, nice thought. That depends on whether she trusts that every last one of them will be behind bars.'

‘Yeah, and now you're going to tell me who searched Britt's house?'

‘Oh yeah!' Takumi nodded, frowning. ‘Those fools hired a couple of thugs—they got to Britt's house, then spray-painted the back rooms of Sofie's before it was destroyed. It's a wonder the two idiots didn't meet up on the day.'

Brock held his anger in check. ‘Do the fraud squad have IDs?'

‘They're working on it,' Takumi answered. ‘It won't be long.'

‘What about Britt? What're you going to do?'

‘Well, I hope you're right and she thinks the same way you do. The threats are behind bars and she can come home.' Takumi shoved his notepad in his breast pocket. ‘But … if Britt doesn't turn up, I'm taking leave to find her.'

If Sofie disappeared like Britt had, what would Brock do? Without a doubt the exact same thing as Takumi intending doing.

Gales of laughter rolled down the hall from the kitchen. Brock smiled, loving the sound of his family bonding, telling tales, sharing jokes, and enjoying each other's company.

‘I'd like you to meet someone. You free to have a coffee?'

Takumi's wide grin and bright eyes was all the answer he needed.

Brock clapped him on the shoulder and, smiling back, sauntered down the hall, taking Takumi into the heart of the house, the warm hub of the kitchen, to join his extended family for coffee and pastries.

***

Sofie lugged bags of groceries through the back door and into the kitchen. They'd had such a brilliant time yesterday with everyone around the table eating, drinking, and sharing stories. Brock loved it. She loved it. Claudia loved it. Rafael relished it and Michelle hung on his every word. It was bound to happen again today, and Sofie couldn't wait. But it meant the fridge and pantry needed restocking.

Sarge's nails clicking on the worn linoleum followed her in. She was about to pile cold stuff in the fridge when a note stuck to the door caught her eye:

Sofe, your phone off. Emergency Sydney—Raff—Susanna. Ring soon, B.

‘What?' Adrenaline flooded her chest, the nasty alarming kind.

Sarge sidled up close and leaned against her hip. Sofie's hand automatically went to stroke his head and met his soulful eyes with hers. ‘Your boss is quite the wordsmith, don't you think?' she mumbled, her voice breaking with a myriad of negative emotions. He just looked at her as if his food bowl would never be filled again. ‘Don't worry, Sarge, you've got me and Claud. You're not alone … and neither am I. From what I can make out, Brock has gone to Sydney to meet Susanna … how lovely,' she muttered sarcastically. His sudden departure sent a cold shiver through her like a bad omen.

Brock's first love.

Her pulse raced, her gut clenched, it hurt … it really bloody hurt. Sofie turned back to stare at the note as if by doing this she could draw more information out of it. She forced herself to take a few steadying breaths to clear her head, to think logically and not with emotions flying willy-nilly through her mind. Brock told her he loved her. Told her ‘we start this there's no going back'. She made his soul sing. So why did she feel vulnerable, inadequate, and … totally frumpy? Because Susanna was alive and well. She was a gorgeous, honourable, renowned international journalist, more interesting, and all of that meant Susanna was
far
sexier than an ex-high-school teacher turned life drawing teacher and part-time bookkeeper.

Hell yes!

Brock knew where Sofie was, so why hadn't he come and got her before leaving? It would've been so easy. The two of them could've gone with Rafael to meet Susanna. A big fat lump sat painfully in her throat, and then her mouth trembled.

He didn't want her there.

Sofie's world tilted on its axis. Her hand reached for the kitchen counter top, hanging on, as she took deep breaths.

‘Shit!'

Sarge swung his head towards the door, and let go one deep, chesty-bark, which sounded like an effort. Then a knock at the door echoed down the hall.

‘Shit!'

Being crazy-irrational had no benefits at all—none. But do you think she could stop? Her mind in turmoil, her feet rooted to the floor, there was nothing for her except an empty life without Brock. Knocking at the front door again, only louder this time, brought her out of the fog. Sofie rubbed her face, took a few more deep breaths, and headed down the hall with Sarge by her side.

She swung open the door and stared at Jett—speechless.

‘Sofie.'

‘What the
bloody hell
are you doing here?!' Sofie yelled. On seeing his face what little patience she had evaporated, and anger took over.

‘Sofie, we have to talk,' Jett announced.

‘Are you insane? There's an APB out on you. You drove a truck through your daughter's house! You demolished a lovingly restored house! It's a pile of rubble on a scrap heap!' Voice pitched high, she demanded, ‘Why did you do that?'

‘I made sure you were both out,' he said, as if he'd done a good deed.

Sofie wished her glare were shards of ice piercing his stupid freaking brain.