Black Ice (18 page)

Then he was above her, gently probing, watching her face. As he began a slow penetration, Kirri felt herself stretching to accommodate his thickness. For a moment, she tensed, unsure of her body's ability to accept the size of him.

'Easy.' His voice gentle, Daniel stopped moving. He smoothed tendrils of hair from her forehead, his body trembling with the effort of self-control. 'You had a bit of trouble the first time, too.' He kissed the corners of her mouth, loving the deeper flare of colour in the cornflower of her eyes. 'We'll take it easy. You call the moves.'

'Okay,' she breathed. She was hot and moist and aching for him, but it had been two years since she'd made love, and Catelyn's birth had left scar tissue that needed to adjust to a man's invasion. She began to rotate her hips, enjoying the sensation as she took him a little deeper each time. Then she placed her hands on his hips and pulled him fully into her.

A deep shuddering sigh racked Daniel as he collapsed onto her. 'Oh, sweetheart,' he moaned, stilling her movements with his weight, 'I didn't think I could hold out much longer. You nearly had me there.'

He held her face between his hands and kissed her tenderly. '
Now
we can continue.'

Kirri breathed out in relief. For a moment she had thought … Then Daniel thrust into her, and thinking became impossible. All she could do was feel, feel the deep yearning, the tiny spasms, the colours that spun through her mind, her body, as she took him deeper and deeper, until everything exploded into light and shattered.

She was vaguely aware of watching Daniel's face. His jaw clenched, the sinews on his neck taut against the brown skin, he groaned and swelled within her, and the light exploded again and left her limp.

 

Kirri scrambled back into bed as the first faint light of dawn filtered in through the window. She crawled on top of Daniel, soaking up his warmth.

'You're cold,' he murmured, folding his arms around her.

'You'd think they'd heat the toilet seats in a place like this,' she grumbled good-naturedly. 'I haven't been this cold since I was in New York.'

'That's the mountains for you.' Daniel opened one sleepy eye. 'Besides, we've been lucky with the weather. Mrs Anderson said it's rained up here for the last week. At least we got sunshine yesterday. We -'Daniel jerked in surprise as Kirri's cold hand moved to the warmest area of his body and started teasing.

Kirri hadn't told him she loved him, but Daniel hoped that what they'd shared last night was a pretty good indication of her feelings.

'You're insatiable,' he whispered in her ear, and began a little teasing of his own.

Her face was glowing as she gazed down at him. 'Only with you, Daniel. Only with you.'

 

They'd just finished breakfast at one of the smaller tables in the dining room when the balding man walked in and came over to them. Kirri tensed, suddenly aware she hadn't told Daniel about the interest this man appeared to be taking in him yesterday.

'Daniel Brand?' The question sounded more like an interrogation, and Kirri had to contain her annoyance.

Daniel nodded.

'You're from the United States?'

Daniel nodded again. The man spoke as though he already knew the answers, but demanded confirmation.

'Is your father Ken Brand?'

Tension coiled in Daniel's stomach like a spring. He stood up, his height and breadth of shoulder dwarfing the middle-aged man. 'Why do you want to know?'

The man stood his ground, apparently not intimidated by Daniel's size. 'If he is, I have something for him.'

'My father died two years ago.'

The man frowned, then held out his hand. 'I'm Ed Anderson. The wife and I own this place. How did he die?'

As Daniel shook his hand, Ed gestured for him to sit down, and dragged another chair across for himself.

'Construction accident. He lost his footing and fell from a three storey building,' Daniel replied, reluctant to say more until he knew what Ed Anderson wanted.

'Unlucky bastard,' Ed pursed his lips.

Daniel bristled, then remembered that in Australia "bastard" could be a term of friendship, even affection.

'Did you know my father, Mr Anderson?'

'Ed's the name, son. And, no, I never got to talk to your father, but I sure felt sorry for the man. When he found your Mum like that I reckon it darn near killed him too. Saddest thing I ever saw, her all crumpled up like that, tears frozen on her cheeks.'

'You were there, Mr An … Ed?' Kirri couldn't stop the question blurting out. She looked at Daniel. His face had paled. She reached across the table and gripped his hand. His thumb stroked against her fingers.

'I was a rookie cop, and it was my first car accident,' Ed replied. 'Mr Brand arrived at the scene just before the sarge and I got there. One of the locals had found the accident and called us.' He turned to Daniel. 'Your mother's car hit a patch of black ice and ran off the road and hit a tree. It was hard to tell what happened after that because of the people at the scene and the footprints everywhere. I'd grown up in the mountains, and I was sure a fox hadn't taken the baby. But no-one wanted to listen to me. They were convinced the baby was dead, and by the amount of blood at the scene and the freezing temperatures, they were probably right.'

'Why didn't
you
think a fox had taken the baby?' Daniel asked.

'Foxes are wary of humans. They've been shot at long enough to know to stay away from us. I know the baby was gone, but a fox would be more likely to take the placenta than a squirming baby. Assuming the baby was born alive, that is.'

'Was the placenta missing?'

'Yep. That's why I think the fox took
it
, and not the baby. It hadn't been a good season for food for the foxes that year, so one might have been desperate enough to take the placenta.'

'Then what happened to the baby?'

'I don't know, son.'

Kirri saw the look on his face that said otherwise. 'But you have a theory?"

Ed smiled. 'All cops have theories, miss. If I'd been in charge, I would have looked more closely at the possibility of human interference.'

Daniel leaned closer, his attention riveted on Ed Anderson. 'Are you telling me you believe someone took the baby?'

'I'm not
telling
you anything. I'm simply suggesting that the Coronial Inquest didn't look deeply enough into other possibilities.' He pushed his chair back and stood up. 'But it's too late now to do anything about it. And I'm sorry to hear about your dad.'

'How did you know I was his son?'

'When I saw you yesterday you reminded me of him. Then when I asked the wife your name and where you were from, that seemed to confirm it.' A half-smile crinkled his eyes. 'She doesn't like me to be on reception - says I'm too abrupt.'

He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag with a sheet of writing paper inside. 'The car was kept in the holding yard for about a year before it was trashed. Part of the floor had rusted out and when they hauled it up onto the truck this fell out. The other personal effects had been sent to your father long before, so the sarge shoved it in a drawer and forgot about it. When I was cleaning out after he retired I found it.'

Daniel took the bag from Ed. 'Why did you keep it all this time?'

'Same reason we bought this place when I left the force. It was my first car accident, and it stuck in my mind because I never believed it was adequately handled. Guess you could say I was fascinated by it. A good cop likes to know he's uncovered all the facts.' He turned to walk away.

'Ed,' Daniel placed a hand on his arm, 'thank you.'

 

Kirri watched as Daniel read the tattered piece of paper. A muscle clenched in his jaw, then he passed it across to her.

 

Dear Mom and Dad
,

It's colder up here in the mountains than I thought it would be, but it's nothing compared to winter in Seattle. I'm writing this while having lunch in a little cafe in Katoomba. I've just been to see a local doctor because I'm concerned about this pregnancy. Now don't worry, nothing's wrong, it's just that it feels so different from when I had Daniel. I'm so much bigger and awkward and the pressure is unbelievable. Thank God I've only got another two weeks to go.

The doctor is arranging for me to have an x-ray at the local hospital. He won't tell me what he's looking for yet, but says it's nothing to worry about. I'll have to see if Ken can take Daniel down to Sydney with him again. The house is so lonely without the pair of them, but I need the rest. I know Ken will want to come to the hospital with me, but it's no place for a child and we don't have anyone here in the mountains who can mind Daniel for us.

I'm knitting Daniel a jumper. Now don't laugh - I know I always said I'd never learn to knit, but Jim's wife Irene gave me some lessons and I'm getting good at it.

 

'I suppose she was going to finish the letter after she'd had the x-ray,' Kirri said gently.

Daniel nodded. 'Grandma used to say Mom was too independent for her own good. She possibly shouldn't have been on her own up here. I had the feeling Dad always blamed himself in some way.'

'He wasn't to know, Daniel.'

 

An hour later, as they continued their exploration of the area, Daniel parked at a lookout. They walked over to the restraining fence and gazed out across the deep valleys and towering mountains. A downpour of rain during the night had freshened the air, heightening the sharp tang of eucalyptus. A cool breeze blew, and Kirri was grateful she'd worn jeans and a jacket.

'Mt Rainier overlooks Seattle,' Daniel said softly, 'In July and August thousands of wildflowers bloom over the subalpine meadows there. It's like someone fired a shotgun into a rainbow and tiny pieces fell down to earth over the greenest grass you've ever seen. So many colours - red, blue, orange, white, pink, yellow, purple. For the last two years I've camped up there whenever I could get away for a few days.'

Kirri watched him, his face pensive, his hands big and brown on the metal railing; felt the need to touch him, to hold him.

She didn't move.

'I'd watch the colours,' he continued. 'And I'd think of you. And I'd feel so lonely that I'd wonder if anyone would care if I didn't come down again.'

'Was there … anybody? Since … New Orleans, I mean.'

He shook his head. 'No. It was as though all the colour had left my life. I could see it, I could even touch it. But it couldn't touch me. Without you my life had no meaning, Kirri.'

He turned towards her then, his golden-brown eyes conveying a love that transcended speech. 'That hasn't changed.'

'Oh, Daniel.' Her voice broke as she wrapped her arms around his chest. His heart beat a powerful rhythm against her ear, and a long shuddering sigh escaped him as he returned her embrace.

The words of love and reassurance she wanted to say wouldn't come. It was as if her mind refused to acknowledge the fullness in her heart.

As though he could sense her turmoil, Daniel gently stroked her back, but said nothing. After a few minutes, he kissed her on the forehead and walked her back to the car.

As Dainel's Fairmont moved away from the lookout, a green Commodore pulled out from behind its concealment of thick shrubbery and followed.

 

A kilometre further on they were flagged over by a woman in orange overalls with the distinctive retro-reflective markings of the State Emergency Service. As Daniel stopped, the woman came over, tipping back her hard hat.

'There's been a mudslide around the next bend. It's not affecting this main road, but more emergency services vehicles will be coming up and turning off on the dirt road leading down to the slide, so drive slowly.'

'How bad is the slide?' Daniel asked.

'A couple of houses have gone down the mountain apparently.'

'Can I help? I've had experience with slides in the States. And I work in construction.'

When the woman hesitated, he added, 'Perhaps if I drive down and ask whoever's in charge?'

'Okay,' she said. 'We've only just arrived ourselves, and it could be a while before we get backup. Maybe we could do with some help. Ask for Sam Reeves.'

 

'Shit!' Brett hit the brakes as he came around a bend. He glanced in the rear vision mirror, then reversed back off the road until his car was out of sight of Brand's vehicle.

Swearing silently this time, he got out and walked forward until he could see Brand's car without being seen himself. As the white Ford drove off and rounded another bend, Brett raced back to his car, and followed.

He smiled politely as the woman repeated her warning. He drove another two kilometres before he realised the Ford was no longer ahead of him. Using words that made his previous cursing seem mild, he sped back the way he'd come.

 

The dirt road led down to a scene of terrible devastation.

A huge brown swathe scarred the mountainside, sweeping down to where the remains of several houses lay like broken matchsticks. The road ended abruptly at the edge of the slide. Just above where the road had been, a timber home with extended verandah tilted precariously downhill, wooden stumps broken, its lower corners now supported by two metal pipes. Daniel recognised the pipes - Acroprops, devices normally used on construction sites to hold up weight-bearing floors.

He parked near a utility. An SES truck was parked further down the slope. Men and women in orange overalls were making their way down to the bottom of the mountain where survivors of the slide were desperately trying to free those still trapped. Kirri and Daniel were just going to follow them down the steep incline when a burly young man ran from the back of the propped up house.

'Help me! Please! Angie … my wife … she's trapped.' Fear widened his eyes, and his breath came in great gulps. 'I thought she was at the neighbours,' he pointed to a house further up the mountain, above the start of the mudslide, 'then I heard her calling out. One of the walls collapsed and she's pinned down by a wardrobe. I can't reach her. The opening's too small.'