Burnt (21 page)

She knew the old Seb too well. Knew all his secrets and his dreams, his weaknesses as well as his strengths. She didn't know this Seb though – the older, wiser, cynical Seb who'd seen war, death and pain. She didn't like the new Seb – and he couldn't let go of the old Bec. So where the hell did that leave them?

Nowhere.

Driving back to the house, Seb realised it was time to make a decision. The letter had come today. He had to make a choice – a big one – and he shook his head with frustration. Did he want to go back? He'd have to report to the army doctor and pass a medical exam to ensure he was ready. The fitness tests would be another story – it'd be a while before he was back to the level of fitness he'd been at before the explosion, but they'd give him time to work on that. He didn't want to consider the possibility that he'd never return to his earlier fitness level – or that he was getting too old to keep up with the younger guys coming through. The regiment was his life. His family.

Something fluttered in his gut at that thought. Maybe that wasn't entirely true any more. For a start, he and his old man had forged a fragile bond in the last month or so. It was never going to be full of warm fuzzies and deep and meaningful conversations, but it was something; they understood each other a little better now. If for no other reason, he was grateful that he'd found the opportunity to spend this time to get to know the father he'd never taken the time to try to understand before.

Still, he wasn't sure why he seemed to hesitate over the thought of going back. What else could he do? The beauty of the whole wind turbine scheme was that it wouldn't need any attention, though it would give his dad something to do to take his mind off his problems for a while. Give him a bit of a purpose. So what would Seb do if he got out? He'd go nuts sitting around here twiddling his thumbs.

Growling a curse under his breath, he scanned the paddocks around him and pushed all thoughts of Rebecca Whiteman and the trouble she seemed to bring from his thoughts. All he needed was to get back to base and get stuck into it again. He'd send her a text and say goodbye as soon as he got home, put an end to this right now, before he went and did something totally irrational – like telling her she still held his pathetic heart in her hands.

Rebecca took her mobile from her handbag as she sat with a much-needed coffee on her late-night tea break. There was a message blinking and she frowned at the screen as she read it.

I need to see you. Meet me at the cemetery – we need to talk. I'll be waiting.

She checked the time and frowned when she saw that it had been sent only a few minutes earlier. Why did Seb want to meet in the cemetery, of all places? Why now? She tried to call his mobile but it wasn't answering and he hadn't replied to her text messages either. The thought of meeting him in such a morbid place at night was enough to give her the creeps. She sat in the tea room, glaring at the mobile, waiting for his reply to her text, determined not to meet him – at least not there – but as time ticked on without reply, she felt her resolve weaken. What if he was having some kind of breakdown? She knew PTSD could strike in any situation but with Seb's profession and his recent injuries he was at higher risk than most to suffer with it. Finally, she relented and asked her boss if she could leave work early.

As she drove through the sleeping town, the streetlights cast eerie shadows on the edge of the road. Maybe he'd finally decided to take the step and confront his past. Hadn't that been what she'd been pestering him to do ever since he'd come back? What if this was the only way he could face his fears – at night? What if he needed the darkness to hide his grief and mask his uncertainty? If he was reaching out to her, and she didn't show up, then he might not go through with it. Could she live with that?

Turning off the engine, she pulled the handbrake a little harder than necessary and peered through the windscreen to see if she could spot Seb in the shadows, before opening her door to stepping out onto the gravel and dirt car park. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to take each step across the uneven ground between headstones that glowed white against the dark sky. Why the hell was she doing this? Wasn't she always the one vowing that she'd never be like the stupid person in a horror movie who went outside to see what the strange noise was, even after all the other people in the movie had been decapitated or murdered in some equally hideous fashion?

But this was not a horror movie – this was Seb, reaching out for help. There was nothing to be scared about in a cemetery – half her relatives were buried here, people who loved her and who were probably watching over her. There's nothing creepy about that.

Much.

Although common sense went a long way towards calming her irrational fears, it didn't completely override the ingrained fear that this was still a cemetery. At night.

Through the dim light she made out a figure standing, head bowed, over a gravestone in the far corner. Her gaze skirted sideways, lightly touching on the nearby grave with a baby angel on top, its wings wrapped protectively around the gravestone but she didn't stop to visit – not yet. Seb needed her more, just now.

His back was to her, hunched over as he stared down at the grave before him. As she neared, she saw that his shoulders shook and her heart skipped a beat in sympathy. Did he want her to intrude on his private grief? Should she just remain hidden in the shadows and wait for it to pass? She hovered, unsure what to do, when he spoke through the darkness, clear and loud.

‘I'm surprised you came, Rebecca. I've been waiting a long time for this moment.'

Rebecca's heart dropped to her feet and her eyes widened in alarm as the shadow turned and she stared into a face she recognised, but hadn't thought she'd ever see again. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out, and as she stumbled backwards, the man leapt towards her, covering her face with a cloth.

Her head snapped back against overpowering fumes. Her chest felt as though it was about to explode as she fought to breathe without inhaling the chemical. Slowly the struggle left her; her arms and legs began to feel heavy and she felt the strength flowing from her body. The last thing she recalled before a veil of darkness descended was the sharp sting of gravel beneath her cheek and the damp smell of earth beneath her nose as she fell to the ground.

Seb had torn his room, his car and every other conceivable place he could think of apart, but finally had to admit defeat: he couldn't find his phone. Fan-bloody-tastic, he thought with an irritated sigh. Another thing he'd have to fix before he left.

It couldn't wait – he relied on his mobile for keeping in contact with his unit. They had his dad's home number, of course, so it wasn't as though he was completely out of touch, but it annoyed the absolute crap out of him to realise he'd lost all his saved photos and information, not to mention a perfectly good phone, and it had taken almost two days to get his new phone all sorted.

Now, as he thought about heading back to the farm, he hesitated at the intersection and made a split-second decision. He'd man up and get the goodbyes done face to face, and then he wouldn't carry any extra guilt around for being a coward – he'd be free of at least this one thing.

Rebecca's house looked locked up but as he climbed out of the car, he saw a middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform coming down the path towards him. He stopped by the fence and waited as she looked him over cautiously.

‘Are you here to see Rebecca?'

Something about the tension around her eyes, the smallest of things, sent his instincts into overdrive. ‘Is there a problem?'

‘She isn't at home. I was hoping to find someone who might know where she is.'

‘You work with her at the hospital?' he asked, trying to gauge if this visit was personal or business related.

‘Sorry, yes, I'm Diane Coombes, the nursing unit manager. Rebecca didn't show up for her shift last night and she wasn't answering her phone or mobile. It's just not like her.'

His gut clenched in alarm. ‘Maybe her parents know where she is,' he said, automatically taking out his phone to find their number before remembering he didn't have it programmed on the new phone. ‘Forgot I lost my phone and all the numbers on it. Damn it.'

‘Are you Seb?' the older woman asked carefully.

At her tone, Seb glanced up uncertainly. ‘Yes. Why?'

‘It was after receiving your message that she asked to finish her shift earlier.'

‘When was this?'

‘Early Wednesday morning. She was supposed to finish her shift at six a.m. but she left just after two. I was away all yesterday and only just found out that she didn't show up for her shift last night.'

It was Thursday morning. ‘I didn't message her Wednesday morning. I lost my old phone and only just got this replacement today.'

‘That can't be right. She got a text, then came to me and said Seb needed her urgently. I knew it must be serious because she's never asked to leave early before. She was very worried about whatever that message said.' She eyed him doubtfully, as though she thought he was hiding something.

‘If she got a text, it wasn't from me,' he said, alarm bells beginning to ring loudly in his head. It wasn't just a weird coincidence – his lost phone and Rebecca's disappearance were connected. He knew it in his gut. She'd been missing over twenty-four hours.

‘Her parents. We need to get in contact with them and see if they have any other information.'

‘They aren't in town. They took Rebecca's kids down to her ex-husband's place for the school holidays.'

He felt like a complete moron. While he'd been too pig-headed to just come over and talk all this relationship crap out, Bec had obviously been dealing with that prick of an ex-husband all alone. He swore then glanced up at Rebecca's boss and hastily apologised.

‘That's all right – I kind of agree,' she said quietly, with a nervous smile. ‘Do you think we should go to the police with this? I'm getting quite worried about her.'

Seb nodded, his eyes scanning the neat house as he thought it over. ‘Yeah, it can't hurt to let them know. It might not be enough to do anything about, but it can't hurt to have them clued in.'

Seb followed the woman to the police station where they gave them a rundown of the last few days' events.

‘Did you say Rebecca Whiteman?' The constable frowned as he looked at them.

Seb's alarm bells began to ring yet again.

‘I attended a call-out to a possible break-and-enter at Rebecca Whiteman's address earlier this week.'

A break-in? What the hell?
‘She's been getting some heavy breather calling her as well,' Seb told the young constable, who looked barely out of high school.

‘She didn't report those to me,' he said, sounding puzzled and a little suspicious.

‘She didn't think it was enough to make a report on.'

‘Unless it's related to her disappearance,' the constable said, lifting his eyebrow at Seb.

Seb gritted his teeth at the unspoken suggestion that this kid thought he should have done something about it earlier. He didn't need anyone else pointing out his failure; he was already beating himself up over it. He knew he should have fought harder to make her report it when she'd first shrugged it off. Had there been more calls? Why the hell hadn't she told him about the break-in?
Because, dumb arse, you all but told her it was over and haven't been back since.
He pushed the thought away and tried to concentrate on what he did know.

‘You mentioned she also volunteers at the new women's shelter?' the young officer asked, looking across at Diane for confirmation.

‘Yes, that's right.'

‘Do you know of any trouble? Maybe threats from anyone related to that?'

‘Not that I know of,' Diane said, shaking her head.

‘What about you?' he asked Seb. ‘Did she ever mention any problems?'

‘No,' Seb said quietly. ‘But then, she probably wouldn't have. She knew I didn't like her working there in the first place.' He knew Bec wouldn't have told him if anything had happened at the shelter. Not after their run in. Damn it. He
knew
that place was bad news. Why wouldn't she listen?

‘We're going to look into this. I'll make some enquiries and see if I can find anything to go on. Meanwhile, if either of you hear anything, let me know immediately.'

Seb left his contact details with the cop and decided to take a drive around to look for her, too anxious to go back to the farm without knowing where the hell she was.

Less than an hour later, Seb felt his gut drop to his feet as he pulled up and got out of his vehicle slowly. The police had called to inform him that they had located Rebecca's car. Now two police cars – one unmarked – surrounded it in the cemetery's parking lot. He approached the scene hesitantly, half afraid of what he'd find waiting for him.

The young police officer from the station came across to meet him and, seeing the fear written across Seb's face, shook his head quickly. ‘It's empty, mate.'

A crushing weight of relief fell away from him.
Thank god.
Taking a steadying breath, he followed as the cop led him to the other men by the car.

‘Detectives Crantz and Shackleton. Once we located the car, I called them in. I think we can assume there's a strong possibility this is a missing persons case now.'

After shaking hands, the men went on to question him briefly about what he knew in regards to the phone calls, but having only witnessed one call, Seb wasn't much help on that front. They did want to be able to contact him with further questions, and Seb had the sinking feeling he was on the top of their list of potential suspects. He supposed he couldn't blame them – they had bugger all to work on, and he was the only person handy to interview, but it didn't sit well with him all the same.