The Ransom (10 page)

“Then why is there no reference to those laws, no mention of backing off, in the note? You said last night’s caller made specific reference to your reforms. A child mistakenly believed to be your daughter is kidnapped, a note turns up, but makes no mention of the earlier demands. It doesn’t make sense.” Lane’s voice was threaded with steel, as if daring her father to dispute that.

Zara listened to Lane’s reasoning with a growing sense of unease. On top of her own disquiet, the possibility that her father was involved in something awful refused to go away. She watched him closely, hoping to gauge something from his response.

His eyes flashed at Lane with anger and his face turned red. His breath hissed between clenched teeth. Zara held her breath, praying silently for him to regain control.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Detective,” he growled. “I received a phone call threatening my family with harm if I didn’t back down from my current position. A day later, my daughter’s involved in an attempted kidnapping. Call me stupid, but I can’t help but think those incidents are related.”

Lane moved slightly away and gave a brisk nod. “Okay, let’s go with that theory. In fact, we’ve put together a photo line-up of convicted criminals who sport the redback spider tattoo in the position Brittany described. I’d like to ask her to take a look at it.”

“What if the man responsible doesn’t have a record?” her father asked.

“Then we have a problem. Our system only records the distinguishing scars, birthmarks, tattoos and the like of convicted felons. If our guy’s never been convicted, then without another eyewitness, there’s very little chance we’ll find him.” Lane’s face reflected his frustration. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Her father’s shoulders slumped almost in a sign of defeat. He looked sideways at Zara. “Do you think Brittany’s up to talking with the police again?”

Zara compressed her lips together, wanting nothing more than to spare her sister another round of questioning, but she thought of Olivia and her parents and knew she didn’t have any choice.

“She was sleeping when I came downstairs, but I’ll go and check on her again. I think it’s important to do all we can to help.”

Her father nodded tiredly. “Yes, of course. You’re right.”

Lane nodded a brusque thank you and pushed away from the desk. He strode toward the closed door of her father’s office and flung it open.

“Jett, are you out there?”

Zara started forward and stopped when Mrs Harrow appeared in the doorway. She glanced around at the people in the room. “I’m sorry, Detective. Your partner left to interview Harry Shearer.”

Lane frowned. “Harry Shearer?”

“The boy who delivered the note.”

“Oh, I see. Jett’s managed to identify him. That’s good. Thanks for letting me know.” Patting the pocket of his suit, he turned back to face them.

“Detective Craigdon prepared the photo line-up. Let’s hope he hasn’t taken the car to the Shearer house. The photos were on the back seat. I’ll go and check.”

Lane strode out of the office. Zara heard the click of his boots on the concrete floor. She turned to her father, concern and fear warring inside of her.

“Dad, are you sure the men I saw a couple of weeks ago had nothing to do with this? Is it possible they were working undercover in the Redbacks biker gang? You said yourself sometimes the lines get blurred.”

The Attorney General shook his head. “They’re from the Drug Enforcement Agency. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I know I can trust you. They’re part of a taskforce investigating the illegal drug trade in Cabramatta. They have nothing to do with outlaw motorcycle gangs.”

Zara sighed heavily in relief. His explanation made sense and it went a fair way to alleviating her concerns. It also explained the rough appearance and the air of danger that had surrounded both men. Living undercover in such a precarious and dangerous world meant total immersion. If the enemy they’d infiltrated had even the slightest suspicion that the two men weren’t who they said they were, it could prove fatal. The more believable they were in their role as active participants in the world of illegal drugs, the better their chances of success and survival.

She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live like that and she could understand why they did whatever was necessary to stay alive. No wonder they’d appeared so menacing. No wonder her father had demonstrated fear, even if he refused to acknowledge it.Reassured, she sat back in her seat and awaited Lane’s return. There was no point waking Brittany until Lane produced the photo line-up.

As her mind shifted to the good-looking detective, she once again felt an unfamiliar surge of desire. She recalled the feel of his palm against hers and how her heart had skittered and stuttered and then taken off in a gallop. The breathless anticipation, a feeling so unfamiliar and compelling that she marveled at its existence, was even now causing her chest to tighten and her pulse rate to increase.

Now that she knew her father wasn’t involved, she could afford to ponder the detective’s dreamy countenance without the strain of her concerns interfering. There was something very special about him. Even in the midst of the anxiety and desperation to find Olivia, he remained strong and calm and confident. He exuded capability. She was drawn to him like she’d never been drawn to another man. The feeling filled her with excitement and nervousness and anticipation and all kinds of delicious emotions that were totally foreign to her. It was like discovering and learning a new skill and experiencing the freedom that came with it. She yearned to find out more about him and get to know him better.

The sound of his footsteps crossing the living room floor had her pulse once again picking up its pace. She sat straighter in her chair and smoothed down her hair and waited for him to appear in the doorway.

“Here it is.” Lane re-entered her father’s office, brandishing a large envelope. “Jett left the car behind. I called him while I was outside. He only had to walk around the corner to speak to the Shearer boy. Unfortunately, the boy can’t tell us much, other than it was a bald man in a car wearing a black leather jacket. The man pulled alongside him while he was riding his push-bike and asked him to deliver the note to the Attorney General.”

David sat forward. “Did he give you a description of the car?”

“No, only that it was a white sedan.”

“Plate number?” the Attorney General added.

“I’m afraid not. I guess the boy had no reason to suspect anything was amiss.”

“What about a tattoo?” Zara asked quietly.

Lane’s gaze locked on hers. Her heart pounded furiously.

“He didn’t see a tattoo. Then again, unless the man’s left hand was high up on the steering wheel, it probably wouldn’t be visible from the driver’s side. It’s still possible the guy’s a member of the Redbacks.”

Zara nodded agreement and licked her suddenly dry lips. Lane stared at her. The moment stretched on. Unable to bear it another second, she dragged her gaze away.

Lane cleared his throat and addressed her father. “I’d like to talk to Brittany now, if that’s all right with you?”

Her father stood and pushed away from the desk. “Of course.” He turned to Zara. “Would you mind going upstairs and checking if she’s awake?”

Grateful for the reason to escape the intoxicating pull of Lane’s presence, Zara stood and left the room. Moments later, she reached her sister’s room and eased open the door. Brittany had pushed herself up against her pillows and was focused on the television. A children’s game show filled the screen.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’re you doing?” Zara murmured.

Brittany offered her a weak smile. “I’m okay.”

Moving closer to the bed, Zara reached out and laid her hand on Brittany’s cheek. “This has been such a difficult day for you. I understand how much you’ve been through and you’ve been so brave and so wonderful, I can’t wait to tell Olivia what a good friend you are.”

Brittany’s eyes clouded at the mention of Olivia. Zara cursed under her breath. She hadn’t meant to upset the child. Goodness, she was trying to prepare her sister for another police interview.

To her relief, Brittany’s mouth tilted upwards in the tiniest of smiles, her eyes full of hope. “Do you really think they’re going to find her soon?”

Zara’s heart clenched at the eagerness that filled her sister’s eyes. “Of course,” she replied with as much confidence as she could muster. “That nice Detective Lane’s working as hard as he can to bring her back. In fact, he’s downstairs right now. He’d like to ask you some more questions.”

Brittany pulled a face and tugged the bedcovers up under her chin. Zara patted her knee.

“This is so tough on you, baby. But I need you to stay strong. Detective Lane needs your help and so does Olivia.”

“Can I go downstairs?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

Brittany nodded and pushed back the bedcovers. Still dressed in the clothes she’d worn that morning, she slid off the bed, brushing tendrils of golden curls out of her eyes.

“Here, put on your slippers.” Zara held them out to her and waited for the girl to slip them onto her feet. With an arm around her sister’s shoulders, she hugged her to her side and together they made their way down the stairs.

Lane and her father were still in his office. Lane had moved to stand near the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the lush gardens. He turned at the sound of their footsteps and smiled when he saw Brittany.

“Hello again, Brittany. Thank you for coming downstairs.”

Brittany peered up at him shyly. “That’s okay.”

Tugging the envelope out of the inside of his jacket, he motioned for her to take a seat. She hesitated and Zara squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, silently urging her forward.

Lane moved closer and placed the envelope on the desk within Brittany’s reach. He hunkered down beside her. Like the expression that filled his face, his voice was gentle.

“I have some photos I’d like you to take a look at Brittany,” he murmured. “After we spoke about the man who attacked you, I went back to my office and my partner and I put together a page containing photos of men that look a little like the man you described. I’m hoping the man you saw in Myers might be one of them.”

Brittany tensed beneath Zara’s fingers. Zara bent and put her face close to her sister’s. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. It will only take a few moments. Remember what I said? Lane’s trying to find Olivia. You might be able to help.”

The young girl drew in a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay.”

Lane opened the envelope and drew out a legal sized sheet of thin white cardboard. On it were two rows of male head shots. There were ten altogether and they were all physically similar. Zara stayed close to her sister while Brittany examined the photos.

“Take your time, Brittany,” Lane said softly. “Have a good look. It’s important that you’re absolutely certain.”

“Th-that’s him,” she whispered, pointing to one of the pictures.

Zara looked to the man Brittany had pointed to and gasped and then clenched her fist against her mouth, trying to push the sound back in. Her heart pounded.
It was one of the men she’d seen in her father’s office.

As if sensing something amiss, Lane’s gaze zeroed in on her and then slowly looked at Brittany. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yes, I’m sure. That’s the man I saw in the change rooms.”

Zara was still doing her best to get her emotions under control. Her heart continued to thump hard. She could still feel Lane’s assessing gaze.

“Who…who is that?” she rasped, pointing to a second man she recognized. Her blood pounded so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. She didn’t dare look at the detective—or her father.

Lane glanced at the man she’d indicated. “Draco Jovanovic,” he replied, his lip curling with disdain. “Jovanovic’s the president of the Redbacks. He’s done serious jail time. Why do you ask?”

Panic like she’d never known, suddenly seized Zara’s chest and it was all she could do to keep breathing. She searched frantically around for something to say, but try as she might, she kept coming up blank. She drew in a surreptitious breath and swiped at the sweat that had popped out on her lip. Lane continued to look at her curiously.

“Who is he?” Brittany asked and once again pointed to the man she’d identified. The relief Zara felt when Lane’s attention was drawn to her sister nearly caused Zara’s legs to give out from under her.

“That’s Boris Vukovic, another prominent member of the Redbacks,” Lane replied and then turned to address her father, his expression grim. “It looks like it’s just as you suspected: retaliation for threatening to tighten the biker laws.”

Zara stared at her father. He’d paled beneath his perpetual tan and a frown left deep creases in his forehead. He exhaled on a heavy sigh.

“Do what you need to do, Detective. I’m not going to let these outlaws dictate how we run this State. It’s easy for me to say because my daughter’s not the one missing, but I’m prepared to put all available resources at your disposal so that you can find this scumbag and bring him to justice.”

“Thank you, Attorney General. Fortunately, we’re already in the process of forming a joint taskforce with the Australian Federal Police. They have more resources available to them than we do and given that you’re a political figure, their expertise is not only required, but necessary. We’ll also be calling on officers in the Organized Crime Squad and the New South Wales Crime Commission to assist. Their knowledge of these outlaw motorcycle gangs far exceeds ours.”