Black Ice (15 page)

His voice no more than a husky whisper, he dropped his forehead to hers. 'I'm going to pay for an assistant to help Jenny in the gallery, and arrange for your belongings to be picked up from the flat and stored until we rent somewhere else. And I don't want any objections.'

From the dreamy smile that curved her mouth, Daniel guessed that objecting was the last thing Kirri was thinking of doing.

'I'll book our flight,' he told her, 'then I'll phone Philip and tell him I'm coming in to see him.'

 

It hadn't felt like Brett thought it would. Killing a man hadn't produced an adrenaline high of success or remorse for taking a life. Perhaps the fact that the old man hadn't been his intended target was the reason. He'd wasted no time in getting out of Noosa as soon as he'd left Kirri's flat, and spent the following two days listening for news broadcasts before having it confirmed that the old man had died.

He'd felt a twinge of pity for the man's wife at finding the body, but that emotion had been swept aside by his relief at hearing the newsreader say that the police had no clues to the killer's identity.

Now he lay back on a grassy knoll in Brisbane's South Bank and closed his eyes against the slanting rays of a setting sun. Within minutes he began to drift into that twilight zone between wakefulness and sleep.

It was this relaxed, almost trance-like state that prevented him from being instantly alert to the smell of smoke. It hovered at the perimeters of his senses, teasing, bringing back memories. Memories his brain fought to deny, even as they crowded in, demanding his attention.

Memories of a another life, when he'd woken from a drunken stupor and snatched a backpack from the floor of his burning flat and ran out the back door. He was almost to the end of the street when his panic subsided enough for him to stop and search the pack for the stash of heroin he was supposed to be transporting from one dealer to another.

With the shock of discovering a wallet, spare clothing, chocolate bars, some tattered paperbacks, and not much else, came the realisation that
his
pack must still be in the burning flat … with his friend whom he'd forgotten in his rush to escape the flames.

A fire engine beat him back to the flat, and he'd watched in horror as their efforts finally revealed a blackened ruin that left him in no doubt as to the fate of the man who'd shared one drink and one hit too many.

Without the heroin to deliver, he would be no better off than his friend; runners who welched were dealt with in just as permanent a fashion. Panic twisted his guts, and he'd turned away into the night. Five minutes later he'd made the phone call that was to transform his life.

Water splattered over his face and he sprang up, disorientated. Flames were rising out of a rubbish bin close to where he had been lying. A stout woman holding a child's plastic bucket shook her head ruefully at him.

'Sorry,' she said. 'Some idiot threw his cigarette into the bin and started a fire. I was just trying to put it out.'

Brett muttered something that might have been interpreted as 'That's okay,' then stumbled away.

The vibration of his mobile phone startled him. He slapped his hand to his belt and cursed. He'd need more than a strong drink after dealing with the abuse he knew he was about to cop.

 

'I love the way it feels like the plane is going to land in the water, then seems to make the runway at the last minute.' Kirri smiled at Daniel from the window seat as they approached Sydney airport. The blue expanse of Botany Bay glistened beneath the wing, then rocks, grass and dark grey tarmac passed in quick succession.

Catelyn had taken to flying as though she was born to it, amusing herself with crayons and paper, and insisting Daniel and Kirri read her books over and over. Daniel had remarked that she was a typical female, playing to a captive audience, but the twinkle in his eye and the love and pride so evident on his face turned Kirri's snappy reply into a warm smile.

'I never knew a baby needed this much gear,' Daniel commented as he helped the taxi driver pack their luggage into the boot.

'Just be grateful she's not on bottles any more,' Kirri retorted.

'Didn't you breastfeed her?'

Kirri smothered a laugh at the worried expression on his face. 'I had trouble at first, but I ended up feeding her for six months. And that was only because Gran just about tied me to the bed and force-fed me protein drinks and platters of food.' Her smile broke through. 'That woman has a lot to answer for.'

'Sounds to me like she should be nominated for sainthood.'

A warm glow spread through Kirri. Since she had relented and allowed Daniel to organise their trip to Sydney, the tension that had gripped her from the moment she had discovered he was Catelyn's father had finally eased. Although she could sense his underlying sexual frustration, and cursed her wayward body for feeling the same, she was more relaxed than she'd been in a long time. The casual banter, the shared moments with Catelyn, were balm to her soul.

'I booked in here because I thought we could walk Catelyn on the beach,' Daniel said as the taxi slowed down at the Brighton Novotel. Then he smiled wryly. 'It's also the only hotel I know. Philip Weyburn booked me in here when I came over from the States.'

'Where's Brand & Weyburn?'

'St Leonards.'

'That's a fair distance away. Why didn't he book you in somewhere closer?'

'I have a feeling,' Daniel spoke thoughtfully, 'that he wanted me to be as far away as possible. Preferably not here at all.'

 

A satisfied smile played at the corners of Stella's mouth. Daniel Brand was back in Sydney. Interesting. Philip hadn't received any word from him for days, then suddenly, this morning, a phone call to say he was flying down.

She stood in the half-open office doorway and watched the worried frown on Philip's forehead. Fool. Brand was worth two of the weak bastard. But at least Philip would be easy to control. Like his father.

 

Daniel had booked adjoining suites with an interlinking door. As Kirri unpacked Catelyn's bag, she gazed at the Queen size bed and imagined what it would be like if Daniel shared it with her. Within seconds her artist's imagination created just that scenario. Her body reacted, tingling with anticipation, aching for the fulfilment long denied it.

'Hell!' She didn't realise she'd spoken aloud until Catelyn's light voice repeated the word. She tried to rein in her erotic thoughts.

Daniel's knock made her blush guiltily. She could still feel the warmth in her face when she opened the door. One look at his pupil-dilating reaction as his gaze swept her flushed neck and hardened nipples, and the warmth magnified.

'I …' Daniel cleared his suddenly thickened vocal cords. 'I wondered if you'd like to come to the office with me and then we could take Catelyn to Taronga Park Zoo before we go to see your father? It's almost on the way.'

'Okay. Just as soon as I change Catelyn's nappy and freshen up.'

'Could I do that for you? Change her nappy, I mean.'

Kirri smiled. Wrestling a mad bull was one thing; now she knew he was a brave man.

 

'It's bigger than I thought it would be,' Kirri commented as they entered the Brand & Weyburn building.

'Yes,' agreed Daniel. 'There are over two hundred employees. It's really grown too big to still be run as a partnership, especially when one of the partners lives in another country. I wanted to talk to Philip about becoming a proprietary limited company, but he avoided the subject.'

'Perhaps he wasn't ready to discuss it yet.'

Daniel nodded, then shifted Catelyn higher as they walked up to the reception desk. She had fallen asleep in the taxi, and now Daniel held her to his chest, her head on his shoulder, face nestled into his neck.

Ceramic tiled floor and walls in shades of pale grey and green were highlighted by the modern, darker green reception area. The receptionist told Daniel he was expected, then showed them up a hallway and into an office dominated by a large mahogany desk and tall green filing cabinets. Cardboard boxes cluttered one corner.

Kirri saw the startled expressions of the man sitting behind the desk and the tall blonde woman taking papers from a filing cabinet. She felt the curiosity in their gazes and realised Daniel hadn't informed them he wouldn't be alone.

'Philip,' Daniel nodded to the man who was now walking out from behind the desk, 'this is my friend, Kirri Smith.' He turned towards the woman. 'Kirri, this is Stella Quinlan, Philip's secretary.'

Kirri murmured a polite 'Hello', her attention caught by the fervour of Stella's gaze. Just then Catelyn lifted her head from Daniel's shoulder.

'And this,' Daniel said proudly as she turned in his arms, 'is my daughter, Catelyn.'

Kirri was astounded by what she witnessed next. The shock that registered on Philip's face at Daniel's announcement was mild compared to Stella's reaction. Although she quickly concealed it, a terrible anger flashed in the woman's eyes.

Stella walked over to Daniel, her body almost quivering with the anger she was trying to suppress. The smile on her face barely raised her lips. She stared so intently at Catelyn that the child turned her head back into Daniel's shoulder. Then she walked over to Kirri, offering her hand.

As Kirri shook it, blackness swirled through her mind and threatened to engulf her. Stella's firm grip suddenly felt like a trap, and she pulled her hand free. She had never before experienced anything like it, and a shiver of fear ran down her spine.

 

Half an hour later Kirri waited with Catelyn in Philip's office. Philip had asked Daniel to look at some new equipment he wanted to purchase, and although Daniel had protested at leaving her, Kirri had told him to go. She was worried her presence was hampering any negotiations Philip may have wanted to talk to Daniel about.

Stella had brought Kirri a cup of tea and biscuits, and asked questions about her relationship with Daniel. As Daniel hadn't offered any explanation, Kirri also declined the opportunity. After a while Stella returned to her own office.

Catelyn had abandoned the toys Kirri had given her, and wandered around the office until she discovered the wastepaper basket. A gentle but firm 'no' from Kirri kept her moving on. When she reached the cardboard boxes her small hands reached up and grabbed at the top one. It toppled down, spilling its meagre contents over the floor. Catelyn smiled in glee, picked up a birthday card and held it out to Kirri.

'Paint, Mummy, paint.'

'No, darling, it's a card, not a painting.' Kirri murmured as she bent down.
Talk about hoarding
, she thought as she picked up old cards, calendars with beautiful scenery, old photos, and a couple of newspaper clippings. She was placing them back in the box when Catelyn scrunched one of the newspaper clippings in her eager fist.

'Thank you, Catelyn.' Kirri held out her hand, and Catelyn placed the crumpled paper on it. As she smoothed out the creases, a name caught Kirri's attention.

'Neall Quinlan, beloved brother of Stella Quinlan …' Kirri realised it was a death notice. A rather cryptic death notice. No mention of parents or other relatives, just the date of birth and the date of death four years ago, and a private cremation. There was something cold and sad about the pathetic scrap of paper and the aloneness it represented. Kirri quickly returned it to the box and placed that out of Catelyn's reach. She was bending down to pick Catelyn up when a shrill voice sounded from the corridor.

'Hurry up, you two, I must see Essie's baby.'

'Essie's grand-daughter, Mum.' Philip's voice was weary. 'Slow down, or you'll scare the kid.'

His admonition obviously went unheeded. The door burst open and a whippet-thin, silver-haired woman in an elegant lilac pants-suit strode into the room. At the sight of Catelyn, her face lit up. 'Oh, you dear child.' Tears glistened in her eyes. 'You could be Essie's daughter.'

Kirri looked a question at Daniel as he walked into the room with Philip.

'Essie was my mother,' he said quietly.

'Kirri, this is my mother, Irene. She and Daniel's mother were good friends.' Philip hovered over his mother, strangely protective.

As Irene turned her face towards her, Kirri could see the reason for his attitude. Irene Weyburn had the agitated, distracted air of someone whose emotional balance was precarious.

'Such a loss.' Irene spoke to no-one in particular, her gaze still on Catelyn as the child wandered over to Kirri's carryall and pulled out a banana. 'I was pregnant too, at the time, with Philip. Essie wanted us to go up to the mountains with them, but I was afraid. I'd already had two miscarriages, and … Well, it was too far from my specialist. Essie was always stronger than me. Daniel was such a strapping child, and she'd had him with no problems.'

She turned to Daniel. 'Your father never did get over losing her, did he.'

'No, Ma'am.'

Kirri's heart squeezed at the sadness on Daniel's face.

Irene waved a fluttery hand. 'Whenever he flew back here on business, he'd never go up to the mountains. It was too hard on him, losing Essie and the baby there.'

'Mrs Weyburn?' Daniel's stomach knotted. 'Are you telling me my mother died here, in Australia? And she had a baby?'

'Yes.' Irene looked puzzled. 'Didn't your father tell you?'

Daniel shook his head. 'No. He never spoke about my mother's death, except to say it was a car accident. It was obvious he'd loved her so much he couldn't talk about it. She's buried in Seattle. I always thought she'd died there.'

'Oh, dear.' Irene went pale. Philip took her arm and guided her to a chair. 'I'm so sorry, Daniel. I thought you knew your mother died in the Blue Mountains.'

Why hadn't his father told him? The pain Daniel had felt on his father's death knifed through him again. What else hadn't he been told? 'Why was she there?'

'Essie found Sydney so hectic. She loved the mountains, that's why we said she and Ken could stay at our holiday house up there. They hadn't intended staying in Australia for the baby's birth, but Ken was delayed by business, and Essie wouldn't go home without him. You were three at the time, Daniel, and some days your father would bring you down to Sydney with him so Essie could have a day of rest.'