Black Ice (5 page)

Daniel had a sudden mental image of his father, red plaid shirt and blue jeans splattered with mud, as he inspected the trees his men were logging. Even now he found it hard to believe that the big, vibrant man who'd taken him camping and fishing was no longer alive. It was only since his father's death that Daniel had realised his own passion for caring for the environment had been shared by his father. His father had respected the land and what it could yield as much as he'd cared for the welfare of his employees.

Kirri glanced at her watch. Daniel followed her gaze. Silver chain band, conventional face. A businesswoman's watch. Not the chunky adornment she had worn in New Orleans. Had the man she was living with bought her this new one? Jealousy surged through Daniel so fiercely his head began to pound harder.

'I'd better get to the gallery. Jenny might -' Kirri frowned as she looked at him. 'Daniel, are you all right?'

'Just my head,' he mumbled, wondering if he could cope with the emotional strain of confronting her now. Later, he decided. After he had the police interview out of the way. 'Could you give me a lift to the police station? I think I'd be a safety hazard on the road right now.'

'I'd be happy to.' The smile she flashed him was beautiful in its compassion and eagerness to please, and confusion and anger roiled up in him again.

 

'You fool!' The words hissed through the mobile phone at Brett Lewis. 'I can't trust you to do anything right, can I!'

'But-'

'What made you think you could get away with a hit-and-run?'

'It was just a spur of the moment thing. When I saw him crossing the street and I heard the Pajero's engine running I-'

'You were probably seen!'

'I had a hat, and sunglasses, and a towel around my neck. I looked like a hundred other surfers.'

'This woman you saw driving him back from the hospital, do you know who she is?'

Brett ran his hand through his glossy black hair. 'No. But she's turned up this morning as well. Does it matter?'

'Of course it matters! We have to know everything he does, everyone he's involved with. We have to plan carefully. In case you've forgotten,' sarcasm dripped like syrup from the disembodied voice, 'it has to look like an accident.'

With an effort Brett remained quiet. He'd long ago given up trying to defend himself against the barbs that slashed into his psyche. Silence was the only weapon he'd ever learned to use.

Finally the hollowness in his ear was replaced by a long sigh. 'This time just stick to what we'd originally planned. You have the key. Just do what I told you.'

The call ended. Brett tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. He'd learned long ago never to expect a word of praise, but he still resented the disdain in which he was held. He slouched down in the seat and watched the front door of Daniel Brand's house, resentment simmering through him.

'I'm sorry. I didn't realise the police station was so far away from the centre of Noosa. I thought I'd be able to walk back,' Daniel said as they parked in front of the building. Kirri had driven to the Police Beat on Hastings Street, but she'd been informed they would have to go to the main station to make their statements.

'Don't worry,' Kirri reassured him, 'I have to go in myself and give a statement. I told them what I saw of the accident, which wasn't much help, but they said to come in anyway.'

'Did you see who was driving?'

Kirri shook her head. 'Not really. The windows were tinted fairly darkly, but I could make out his profile. I thought you might have seen him.'

'Him?'

'The driver didn't appear to be wearing a shirt, so I assumed it was a man.'

'Well, that's more than I saw.' Daniel stopped in the process of opening the van door. 'I had other things on my mind.' He gave the words enough emphasis that he felt she must surely query his meaning. But she simply smiled politely and opened her own door.

 

As they drove back towards Noosa Daniel was so quiet Kirri felt concerned. The police had told them they'd found the four wheel drive abandoned in a bushland carpark at the end of Hastings Street, but had not been able to get a clear description of the driver from any witnesses, or any useable fingerprints. Although Daniel seemed to accept this news philosophically, he appeared to be worried, or in pain.

Kirri hoped he had not been too hasty in leaving the hospital. What if he had a blood clot? What if … She shook her head. Why was she so concerned about someone who was a complete stranger to her?

'Would you like to have lunch with me?' Daniel's voice cut across her thoughts. She glanced at him. His face was pale beneath his tan.

'I realise you have to check in at the gallery,' he continued, 'but if it's not too busy …'

Kirri's refusal died on her tongue. There was something so desperate in the look he gave her, something so similar to the aching sense of loss that would sometimes sweep over her, that she found herself nodding. 'All right. But are you sure you wouldn't prefer to go home?'

'No. I'll sit on the beach until you're ready.'

She found a parking space and they walked around to the gallery. Daniel told her he'd be back at noon and walked away. She watched his tall figure move slowly down the pavement, watched the way his jeans moulded to the powerful contours of his thighs, and was surprised by the desire that flooded through her.

 

Brett looked at his watch. It was fifteen minutes since he'd seen Daniel Brand leave the woman's car and walk to the beach. Fifteen minutes in which he'd driven back to Daniel's house and used the key he'd been given to let himself in.

He glanced around the living room, then moved swiftly to the kitchen. He opened the pantry door, quickly scanned the shelves, then selected a plastic bottle and unscrewed the lid. From the shopping bag he'd carried in, he took another plastic bottle, and added half the contents to the one from the pantry, taking care to replace it in exactly the same position.

It only took him a few seconds to find Daniel's bedroom.

A minute later he was slipping out the front door and walking casually down the street.

 

Although the gallery was full of people, no-one was buying. When Kirri told Jenny she would be going out for lunch, Jenny suggested she take a couple of hours off.

'You need a break, Kirri.' Jenny's expression showed her concern. 'You've been working your butt off since you came down here.' Then her expression changed, and a grin crinkled the freckles on her nose. 'This wouldn't have something to do with that hunky looking guy you chased after to the hospital yesterday, would it?'

'We're having lunch, that's all.'

'Good on ya, cuz. You've been living like a monk for too long now -'

'That's a nun, Jenny.' Kirri interrupted her young cousin good naturedly.

'No matter. Take all the time you need. I'll be here on my own when you go back to Cairns for the wedding, so I'd better get used to it.'

Jenny was right, Kirri realised. She gave the young woman an affectionate hug. 'Then how about I leave you to it now. Daniel didn't look too good when he left here, so I'll just get something from the delicatessen and cook lunch for him. He mightn't feel up to eating in a noisy restaurant.'

 

When Daniel returned, Kirri was pleased to see his colour had improved.

'Do you like chicken?' she asked, and at his puzzled look, explained that she had purchased some honey and soy chicken wings to cook for lunch.

'I'm happy to pay for lunch, Kirri,' he frowned. 'I can afford it.'

Kirri hesitated, afraid she had offended him. 'I just thought you might not feel like eating anywhere noisy. You looked like you needed some rest.'

'You could be right,' he said, then smiled. 'Thank you.'

 

Again that feeling of easy familiarity settled on Kirri as they worked together in the kitchen. She'd bought a small packet of fragrant rice and a bag of mixed Chinese vegetables as well, and soon the succulent aroma of the frying chicken blended with the sweetness of jasmine and oriental spice.

Daniel had set the table on the verandah, and a light breeze took the edge off the midday heat and rustled the leaves in the eucalyptus trees. To Kirri's surprise, she was quite hungry, and ate more than she normally would during the day. Cooking for herself hadn't been a priority since she'd left Cairns. Jenny's mother had invited her home for dinner occasionally, but most nights Kirri either threw a stir fry together or grabbed a sandwich and fruit as she painted.

As Daniel ate, his thoughts were not on the food. He'd either walked on the beach or sat in the shade and looked at the waves rolling in as he'd waited for twelve o'clock. A kaleidoscope of emotions had raced through him, until his head ached with the futility of it all. Now he sat back and watched as Kirri finished eating. Watched the way she bit the flesh from the bone, delicately, but with obvious enjoyment. She'd used her teeth on him like that once, and like now, her touch was delicate, savouring. He felt himself harden at the memory.

Just then, a tiny vibration, like a soundless humming, began in his throat. The humming increased, spread to the membranes of his mouth and nose. Then they began to swell. The air wheezed in and out of his lungs. With shock he recognised the symptoms.

Anaphylactic reaction.

It had been so long since he'd had one, he almost couldn't believe it was happening.

'Daniel? What's wrong?' Kirri was staring at him, her face puzzled, concerned. He shook his head, lurched to his feet. Already the lack of oxygen was making him dizzy. If he didn't reverse the reaction, his throat would swell up until it closed off his airways completely, and death would follow soon after.

He hurried to the en-suite bathroom, grabbed his toiletries bag and unzipped it. He was reaching into the bag before he realised. His EpiPen, the adrenaline auto-injector he always carried for just such an emergency, wasn't there!

Panic whistled through him. Then he forced himself to calmness. He searched through the bag again, but it definitely wasn't there. He remembered seeing it in the bag when he was in the hotel in Sydney. Had he somehow left it behind?

'What's wrong with your breathing?' There was a note of fear in Kirri's voice. She was standing in the doorway, poised as though waiting for direction. 'Daniel? Can I help?'

He shook his head. By the time an ambulance arrived it could be too late. Explaining this would have taken precious time and oxygen he couldn't spare. He whirled around, waited for the waves of dizziness and pain in his head to subside, then strode past her into the bedroom. Quickly sliding back the wardrobe door, he grabbed his hiking pack, unzipped a side pocket, and drew out a slim cylindrical case.

Deftly, fingers steady in spite of the urge to hurry, he extracted the pen-like syringe, and removed the safety cap. A curse wheezed out of his mouth as he realised he hadn't removed his jeans.

Suddenly Kirri moved in front of him. Her fingers swiftly undid his belt buckle, pulled down his zip and pushed his jeans to his knees.

'Intramuscular. Thighs are good.'

He jabbed the device into his flesh, felt the prick of the needle, then the adrenaline rushed through his system. He slid the EpiPen back into its case and massaged the injection area before pulling up his jeans and fastening them. The wardrobe door creaked as he leaned against it.

It wasn't long before the medication relieved the swelling and feeling of breathlessness. He straightened up, saw Kirri watching him anxiously.

'You're right,' he croaked, swallowing against the feeling of fullness in his throat, 'but how did you know?'

'I have a friend who's a doctor. I saw her do it in an emergency.'

'And did your doctor friend tell you what causes anaphylaxis?'

Kirri nodded. 'It's an allergic reaction. What are you allergic to?'

'Peanuts.' Daniel's heartbeat was speeding up with the adrenaline surge. And strangely, he began to feel angry. How the hell had he eaten peanuts?

'Peanuts! But you haven't eaten -'

Daniel brushed passed her, strode into the kitchen. He wrenched open the pantry door and pulled out the container of oil Kirri had used to cook the chicken wings and stir-fry vegetables. Olive Oil! Then how -

He swung around as Kirri walked into the room. 'Did you check the ingredients in the marinade on the chicken when you bought it?' he demanded.

She shook her head in bewilderment. 'No. Why should I?'

Daniel's anger moved up another notch. 'Because you know I'm allergic to peanuts!'

Kirri moved her hands in a placating gesture. 'Daniel, how could I know? I've only known you -'

'Because I told you!' Hell! He hadn't been this angry in a long time.

'When did you tell me?' It was obvious from the look on Kirri's face that she thought she was dealing with a madman. She had begun to step back from him, but he moved towards her.

'In New Orleans,' he ground out. 'Two years ago.'

 

Kirri felt the blood drain from her face. She swayed, grabbed at the doorjamb, listened in disbelief as Daniel continued.

'How could you do it, Kirri? How could you leave me like that, without a word, without at least saying goodbye?' He rubbed his hand across his forehead in anguish. 'I thought you loved me! You told me you loved me! If you'd changed your mind, you could at least have had the decency to contact me, but just to run away like you did …'

Shock.

She knew it was shock. In some deep corner of her mind a sane voice was telling her that the numb feeling in her legs and the sensation of unreality in her mind were being caused by shock.

'Damnit, Kirri! You'd agreed to be my wife! Why the hell …'

He caught her as she sagged against the wall and began to slide down. Scooping her up in his arms, he hurried into the living room and placed her gently on the lounge. She sank into the leather and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them Daniel was hunkered down in front of her.

'Kirri?' His expression had softened. Worry lines creased his forehead. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you with it like that. It just seemed to …'