The Hunter (28 page)

‘It’s more than that, Bryce,’ Andrew replied. ‘You need to talk to her.’

‘I tried, but she won’t.’

Andrew lowered his voice, and I strained to listen in. ‘Bryce, I want to ask you a question. Are you two . . . well, are you sweet on Naomi?’

I waited quietly. I had been resentful of the way they were discussing me; now I was breathlessly awaiting Bryce’s words. Like a silly schoolgirl, I wanted to know if he liked me.

‘I’ve only just met her. I’ve known you all my life, Thousand; don’t hurt her, she’s in some kind of trouble.’

‘No, you misunderstand, my boy. She’s not interested in me in that way, nor me in her. But she’s running from something, someone, and there’s probably more to it than that.’

‘I want to help her,’ Bryce said.

‘Naomi needs to get out of South Africa, fast,’ Andrew said. ‘I can help her with that.’

From the pause that followed I knew what Bryce was thinking. No matter what attraction he might be feeling for me there would be a part of him that would be happy for Andrew to take me off his hands. What were his alternatives – call his bosses, call the police? ‘Naomi’s my problem; you don’t need to put yourself out.’

Fuck. I didn’t want to be anyone’s problem.

‘I’m not putting myself out, Bryce,’ Andrew said. ‘She needs help and I can give it to her.’

‘What did she tell you, before, when I was out on the fence investigating that commotion with the hyenas?’ Bryce asked.

‘She’s on the run from a crazy ex-boyfriend, a cop who’s threatening to hunt her down and kill her.’

‘Hmmm.’ I knew the story didn’t gel with the way Bryce and I had met. If I was on the run I wouldn’t have hijacked him. Bryce already knew I was criminally desperate. ‘I’m not sure about that.’

‘How did you two meet, anyway?’ Andrew asked.

‘Funny you should ask . . .’ Bryce began.

It was time for me to break up this little party. ‘Isn’t it past your bedtime, boys?’ I said, stepping out of the shadows.

Andrew laughed. ‘I’m allowed to stay up late on weekends. As long as I don’t tell my geriatrician.’

‘My mom doesn’t know. Don’t tell her,’ Bryce added.

‘What’s a lady have to do to get a drink around here?’

‘I thought you were tired,’ Bryce said.

‘Sheesh man, get her a drink, or I will.’

Bryce stared at Andrew and the pilot gave a snort and walked to the camping trailer.

‘Fine safari guide you are,’ I said to Bryce. I sat on a camp chair and he took the one next to me.

‘I’ll have another beer,’ he called to Andrew. ‘You have to level with me, Naomi.’ He looked over his shoulder, towards the trailer, where Andrew was fixing the next round of drinks. ‘Andrew says you’re running from a jealous boyfriend, but you looked more like a
tsotsi
on the run to me.’

‘Yes, well, it’s complicated. But we can talk more in the morning, if you like.’ I got up. ‘I think I’ll leave you two to it for now.’

He reached out a hand and grabbed mine. The touch felt electric. ‘Naomi, wait.’

‘Yes?’

‘I . . . I know it’s been hectic, but whatever trouble you’re in, I’d like to help. I know you’ve been talking to Andrew, but I’m on your side, too.’

‘Thanks.’ I didn’t want to let go of his hand, ever, but I knew I had to. ‘Night, Bryce. Oh, and by the way, I made up the name Naomi. My real name’s Linley, Linley Brown.’

He didn’t question me, just looked into my eyes. ‘That’s a beautiful name. Nice to meet you, Linley.’

22

‘H
udson? Hudson, can you hear me?’

Brand coughed and blinked. His head was pounding. When he forced his eyes open he saw a beam of daylight shooting through the gap in the curtains, and like a laser it seared his vision, adding to his pain. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was.

‘Hudson, it’s Anna. Are you awake in there?’

His throat was dry and as he tried to sit up he dry-retched. He blinked again and saw the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. It read 10:13. No, that couldn’t be right. He should have been on the road by then, to Chobe National Park across the border in Botswana with the Cliffs, but here he was in bed, in a hotel room. No, this wasn’t right.

‘Wake up!’

She was angry now. ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he said to himself, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress and fighting down another wave of nausea. He was naked. He could smell her, the girl . . . what was her name? ‘Coming,’ he called out, and coughed again.

He struggled into shorts and zipped them up as he weaved his way to the door. His head spun. Brand gripped the handle for a second to steady himself before opening it. Anna Cliff was standing there, an angry wife look on her face.

Peter Cliff was behind her. He shook his head. ‘Hopeless. I’m going back downstairs to the dining room for another cup of coffee.’ He turned and walked away.

Anna put her hands on her hips. ‘Hudson, we were supposed to have left an hour ago.’

He rubbed his face. ‘Sorry, I don’t know what happened.’

‘I called your room but you didn’t pick up. I checked the vehicle and looked all over the hotel for you.’

She sounded pissed off, not concerned. He retched again. ‘Sorry, I’ll get cleaned up. Give me fifteen minutes.’ He stumbled sideways, catching the door frame.

Anna’s scowl softened. ‘You’re a mess. Let me help you.’

‘I’m fine.’

She pushed open the door wider. ‘Oh my God, you’re bleeding!’

Brand looked down, following her eye line. He saw the gash, touched it, then remembered being at a bar. Bloody Patrick de Villiers. The girl, was it Mandy? Mary? No, Melanie, that was it. She had stabbed Patrick. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘It’s not,’ said Anna. ‘Here, let me see.’ She touched his stomach and he winced. The action caused the cut to open and she pulled her fingers away, sticky with blood. ‘I need to wash my hands, and we need to get you cleaned up.’

Brand relented and stepped aside as she walked into his room. He saw her take in the rumpled sheets, the bloodstains on them. He was surprised by the amount of blood he’d lost. He didn’t remember pain, only the sex with Melanie. He was embarrassed that the smell of her lingered in the room. Brand saw Anna sniff.

She shook her head disapprovingly. ‘Have you got any antiseptic?’

‘I’ve got a first aid kit in my pack. I’ll get it.’ He winced again, feeling the cut now he’d remembered it was there. He shook his hand; his knuckles were sore and red where he’d hit Patrick. He rummaged in his bag and found the kit, and Anna took it from him.

‘Come to the bathroom.’ She walked ahead of him, not looking back to see his eyes as she said, ‘I saw the girl leave, last night.’

‘I thought you were staying in your room, ordering room service.’ He turned it back on her. What he did on his own time was his business. He had no idea why he’d slept so late – he almost never did, and was always awake with the dawn no matter how much he’d had to drink the night before. It was a safari guide’s force of habit. Hell, he hadn’t even had
that
much liquor.

‘I was thinking about Kate, if you must know. I thought of some things I wanted to share with you, information that might help you track down Linley Brown.’

He was facing her now as she ran the water in the sink, but she couldn’t hold his stare. She was lying. Anna washed her hands and took out a sterile swab from its packet, then doused it with Dettol. She looked up at him and started to blush. ‘Partying with that girl made you sleep in. Peter is furious; he wanted to call the agent back in London and report you.’

Brand shrugged. ‘I’m sorry I overslept. That’s never happened to me on a tour before.’ Anna reached out and wiped the knife wound with the gauze. It was cold and it stung. He felt he deserved a little pain. ‘I can find Peter a replacement guide, or get him a refund. To tell you the truth I’d be happy to go back to South Africa right now.’

‘Sit down.’ He closed the lid on the toilet and did as she ordered. ‘We need you, Hudson. You know that. We can’t find Linley without you, or with some other safari guide.’ She finished cleaning the wound and the skin around it, then sorted through the first aid kit until she found some steri-strips. ‘What happened to you, anyway?’

‘I cut myself shaving my stomach hair.’

‘Very funny. Was it something to do with the girl?’

‘Why are you so interested in her, Anna?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She was very pretty. Was she a prostitute?’

‘Not that it’s any of your business, but no, she wasn’t. She was with that conference group that’s staying here.’

‘I didn’t see her at breakfast this morning; all the rest of them were there.’

‘Perhaps her head feels something like mine. I don’t know what I ate or drank last night to make me feel like this.’

Anna peeled the backing paper off a strip and pinched the sliced skin together as she placed it on. It hurt a little, but her fingers were cool, soft, soothing as she smoothed the dressing down. As she stayed bent over him he caught the scent of perfume, something floral and more understated, more expensive than Melanie’s. Thanks to the open top two buttons of her sundress he saw red lace. She was an attractive woman, like the sister whose face he’d seen in the scanned photo he’d been emailed. He recognised the danger signals – her jealousy, her touch, her tone. She took up a second strip.

‘What did you want to tell me, about your sister? You said you’d remembered something else?’

‘Lean back more,’ she said. Brand rested his spine against the cool tiled wall. Anna took the next strip and got down on her knees this time to apply it. Her hair brushed his chest as she moved her face closer to his wound and he felt her fingers again. ‘Kate had a serious car accident about eighteen months ago; I think I told you about that?’

‘Yes.’

‘She was in hospital for four months – broken pelvis and a shattered right leg. We had her mail redirected from her flat to our place and I remember I got a get well card from Zimbabwe, just the one, from a girl named Lungile Phumla. I remembered her, from Kate’s time at school. I never had any black friends when I was young and I think for all their tolerance – about my lesbian aunt and all – my parents were probably uncomfortable with Kate having Lungile as a friend. Kate brought her to stay at Mom and Dad’s place once – I was already in England – and I remember telling my mom not to be so racist because she didn’t like having Lungile sleeping in my bed.’

‘That could have waited until this morning,’ he said.

She stayed on her knees, looking directly into his eyes now, her hand still covering the knife wound on his belly. ‘Peter says you’re a disgrace as a guide.’

‘He’s probably right.’

‘Are you a better private investigator?’

‘Jury’s out on that one, as well. I was going to tell you today, but the South African police called me yesterday. Linley Brown’s wanted for questioning in relation to some crime or other. They know I’m on the case, trying to find her, and they want me to help set up a sting to catch her.’

Anna’s eyes widened. ‘Gosh. Are you going to? I mean, with the police involved we’ll have a much better chance of tracking her down.’

Brand nodded. ‘But if they catch her you may not get a chance to talk to her. I’m trying to get a commitment from the cop in charge to give you some time with Linley, but the detective’s a hard woman. She may renege. Plus, do you want to play a part in having your sister’s best friend arrested?’

‘I want to know what was going through my sister’s head, what was happening in her life to make her attempt fraud and turn her back on her family. I don’t care what happens to Linley Brown. She’s probably the brains behind this whole terrible mess.’

‘You can be tough when you have to be,’ Brand said.

‘I’ve spent the last twenty years doing what I was told and what society and my husband expected of me. Somewhere along the way I lost my sister, maybe because I wasn’t trying hard enough or caring enough about her. My husband has lost interest in me and I have no job or professional qualifications. You don’t know how lucky you are not to have any family ties. How I envy you, Hudson.’ She placed her other hand on his knee. ‘I wish I was free to do what I wanted.’

‘Anna . . .’

She leaned closer to him and he could feel the heat of her breath on him. Brand closed his eyes, another wave of nausea rising up. What the
hell
had he eaten or drunk to make him feel like this? He had let down his clients and he should be feeling bad about that, no matter how much he disliked Peter Cliff, but here he was thinking of nothing other than how easy it would be to screw the man’s wife. Hell, it even sounded like the man deserved it.

‘I want you.’

‘No.’ He put his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at arm’s length.

Anna smiled and moved one of her hands to her chest. She began undoing the buttons of her sundress. ‘I can smell that woman on you, Hudson. It should repulse me, but it doesn’t. It turns me on. Is that wrong?’

He could
not
do this, perhaps literally after the workout Melanie had given him. His stomach churned. The last thing he remembered was her pouring them both a drink from the minibar. Her back had been to him – he recalled how superb her ass was. She had slipped him something, he was sure of it. He expected he’d find his wallet empty of what little cash he had, if he could get past Anna to check it. There was a thumping on his hotel room door, just as Anna started to play with one of her nipples.

‘Anna? Brand? Are you in there?’ Peter called from outside.

Annoyance clouded Anna’s face. ‘Shit.’

She sighed, stood up and started buttoning her dress. ‘I feel a complete idiot.’

He paused to put a hand on her forearm. ‘Don’t. You’re a beautiful woman, Anna.’ He walked past her out of the bathroom and opened the door.

Peter glared at him, then past Brand to where his wife was emerging from the bathroom. ‘What’s going on in here?’

Brand looked down at his bare midriff. ‘Anna was just patching me up. I had an accident last night.’

‘Bloody hell. I can smell the booze on you. What kind of a tour operator
are
you? Getting drunk, sleeping in, getting in knife fights. Are you even fit to drive?’

‘I can drive.’

‘Leave him alone, Peter. We all make mistakes, and Hudson has a firm lead on Linley. The South African police want her for questioning in relation to a crime, and they want Hudson to set her up so they can arrest her. He’s brokering a deal that would allow us to talk to her.’

‘
What?
You want us to become part of a criminal investigation?’

‘We are already part of an investigation,’ Anna said.

Brand picked up his safari shirt off the floor and sat on the bed, putting on his Rocky sandals and packing his bag while Anna and Peter bickered to and fro about the merits of continuing with their quest. His head was throbbing and right then he didn’t give a damn what they decided, whether to try and find Linley Brown or leave her blowing in the wind.

He checked his wallet. ‘Shit.’

‘What is it?’ Anna asked, breaking off from her heated discussion with Peter.

‘My cash and credit cards are gone. I might need a temporary loan.’

‘You are
un
believable,’ Peter said.

Brand stood up and closed the gap between him and the doctor, who was a foot shorter than he. ‘You know what, Peter? You’re right. I am a failure as a safari guide. I’m unprofessional, hungover, and now I’m broke. Why don’t you and your wife just get on a plane back to England? I’ll make sure you get a full refund from Wayne Hamilton.’

Peter balled his hands into fists and his face began colouring. ‘No. We’ve come this far and you
are
going to find Linley Brown for us and we
will
find out about Kate’s last days, and why she wanted to fake her own death.’

Brand was sick of the little man’s attitude, but he didn’t have any money to fill the tank of his borrowed Land Cruiser. He didn’t want to guess how long it would take to get a replacement credit card sent to Zimbabwe or for Dani to wire him some more cash – not that she would send him any more money if he broke his deal with the Cliffs. They were all stuck with each other.

Brand shouldered his backpack. ‘All right, then, let’s go.’

They went to reception and while Peter, still fuming, checked the bill meticulously and paid with a credit card, Brand opened his laptop, which he’d had the sense to put in the hotel room safe, unlike his wallet, and composed an email to Linley Brown.

Ms Brown, in light of new information that has come to my attention about a plan by Ms Kate Munns to fake her death, prior to her actual demise, there are certain questions that the insurance company requires you to answer before you can receive your payment. Specifically, I have been tasked to ask you about a phone call made to the insurance company on the morning of Ms Munns’s death, prior to her actual demise.

He thought about his approach; he didn’t want her to think the claim was dead in the water or she might just keep on running.

Perhaps it’s as simple as the time on the police accident report being incorrect. The fact that you did not submit a false written claim or a false death certificate will, I am sure, be in your favour. Nonetheless, some explanation of your actions will be required for the claim to be processed. I am currently travelling in Zimbabwe, but will soon cross into South Africa. Can you please advise your whereabouts so that we might meet and finalise this matter once and for all?

Brand was counting on her being desperate now that she was on the run from the police. He thought of something else: