Shadows of Hunters Ridge Read online

  Shadows

  OF

  HUNTERS RIDGE

  SARAH BARRIE

  www.harlequinbooks.com.au

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sarah Barrie lives on her family property in the mountainous outskirts of the Central Coast of New South Wales. She divides her time between writing, being a mum and running a farm full of animals. In her spare time, she can be found riding her Arabian horses or pottering around her husband’s orchid nursery. She enjoys writing romantic suspense and contemporary romance set in beautiful rural locations around Australia.

  ALSO BY SARAH BARRIE

  Secrets of Whitewater Creek

  Legacy of Hunters Ridge (book one in the Hunters Ridge trilogy)

  To my husband, Scott

  For our own Happily Ever After.

  CONTENTS

  About the Author

  Also by Sarah Barrie

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  PROLOGUE

  ‘Get your hands off her!’

  Ben Bowden levelled his gun at the man standing with his arm around Ebony Blakely. Two figures appeared behind the detective: Ebony’s brother, Cam, and friend, Lee, their bodies tense, their faces grim.

  ‘What are you doing?’ demanded Rob Littleton, town cop and the man currently trying to console her. Ebony wondered the same thing. Her friend had been murdered, the house was burning to the ground – now what?

  Lee flanked Rob, fists and jaw clenched. ‘Get away from her, Rob. Just walk away.’

  Swiping blindly at tears of grief, Ebony struggled to comprehend what was happening. She looked up at Rob. He was snarling. Cautiously, she stepped away – away from the gun pointed towards them, away from the police officer who’d moments before been her friend. But then she felt his arm twitch around her shoulders and knew she’d made her move too late. Her body jolted as Rob reefed her back with an arm around her throat.

  ‘Rob, what are you doing?’ Dazed from the shock of his tightening grip, Ebony was still more confused than frightened. Except she could see the three men she trusted implicitly were terrified.

  And then she felt the knife against her neck.

  A sudden, crippling fear shot through her. What had Rob done? What was he going to do to her?

  She saw her brother’s eyes dart to the house.

  ‘Cam, he said we’re too late!’ she cried. Rob dragged her back a step.

  ‘No.’ Cam’s gaze swept the house. ‘No!’

  ‘Cam, go.’ Ben’s voice, his eyes trained on Rob, almost looking right through her. ‘We’ve got this – go!’

  ‘Look after my sister!’ Cam was already running. He disappeared into the flames.

  Over the sounds of the smoke alarm and the repeated shouts from Ben and Lee to let her go, Ebony could hear Rob’s breathing: erratic, laboured. She could smell his perspiration, feel desperation coming off him in waves, even over her own shaking.

  ‘Rob, please let me go. I don’t understand.’

  ‘Shut up.’ He shifted position, dragging her back another step.

  The knife at her neck stung and she flinched. Even the trembling stopped for a moment as she fought to be still to stop the blade from slicing.

  ‘Rob, I will shoot,’ Ben threatened. ‘Drop the knife.’

  ‘You shoot, you’ll hit her,’ Rob said.

  ‘You hurt her, I’ll take my chances. You son of a bitch, how could you do it?’

  What should she do? Should she try to wrestle her way out? Who was she kidding – the guy was so strong, the knife was right there.

  ‘Do what? Kill a few whores?’

  And then in some fantastical way, it all made sense. Oh God, he did it. He killed all those girls. And Bella. He’s sliced up Bella. I’m dead. Black spots danced in front of her eyes as she trembled violently.

  Cam burst from the house onto the lawn, Ally hanging limply in his arms. She was black with soot. The image of her brother dropping to his knees desperately trying to wake the love of his life finally took Ebony’s legs out from underneath her. But it hardly mattered – Rob was dragging her back towards the burning house. A window exploded and the roar of the fire intensified. Rob’s hand jerked on the knife.

  ‘I’ll cut a big hole in her! Back off!’

  Ben didn’t budge. ‘You can’t keep us all off, Rob. It’s over. Let her go.’

  ‘If it’s over, I don’t have anything to lose. Back the fuck up!’

  Seconds dragged like hours. Cam had left Ally, began yelling at Rob again, but Ebony’s attention was caught by something even more horrific; it halted what breath she had left. She couldn’t speak, but the monster that held her did.

  ‘Your stupid bitch girlfriend’s gone back in after her slut of a sister. Guess she’s going to fry after all.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You ready to die?’ It was a whisper, a breath against her ear. She felt a shock of pain, heard the crack of gunfire. Burning, wet heat. Dizziness. The arm supporting her dropped.

  Ebony collapsed to the ground, blood sliding down her throat.

  CHAPTER

  1

  The last police car disappeared into the night, taking with it all sense of comfort and security. In the absence of light and sound, the night embraced her, enshrouding her in its thick cloak of quiet.

  Moments before, red and blue lights had flashed brilliantly against the late winter’s night, fighting for dominance against headlights and spot lights, and the shocking glare of the emergency workers’ reflective vests. Police cars, ambulances, paramedics, a fire truck, a rescue vehicle, all clamouring for space around a ute tangled in a fencepost, a tree drunkenly skewed across the windscreen. Rescue crews had crawled over the carnage frantically, machinery had warred with metal, revving and screeching, grunting and tearing. Shouts had been frequent, instructions barked. A pinprick of panic on a vast, still canvas.

  A light breeze came up, clouds receded. The scenery faded in and out with the shifting moonlight and a plover’s distant song penetrated the quiet. The landscape had reclaimed its space, the incident coldly erased, as though it had never been.

  As the first prickles of unease crawled along her skin, her senses slowly adjusted. Silver-topped grasses, highlighted by a weak crescent moon, swayed dreamily; the soft sound like hushed voices on the fresh-scented wind. A few proud trunks glimmered faintly in a distant tree line, falling into darkness as cloud again crept in to cover the light. She allowed her fingers to rest against a line of barbed wire, only to pull them back sharply when they encountered the heavy stickiness of a spider’s web.

  Ebony Blakely listened. When emergency workers had arrived, Joxer, Constable Melanie Pendleton’s beloved kelpi
e, had been hanging from the twisted vehicle. Only one hind leg had been able to reach the ground but that tenuous touch had saved him from strangulation. So they’d cut him loose. And he’d run – down here, they’d said. She wished people wouldn’t tie dogs by their collars on the back of their utes. If Melanie survived, she’d read her the riot act. If Melanie survived, she’d want her dog back.

  Ebony was reluctant to desert Joxer, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end, while her sense of self-preservation had charges of adrenaline kicking through her veins. The feeling of being tiny, insignificant, out here had once held a seductive quality. More recently it had been simply overwhelming and, at times, terrifying.

  Past that distant tree line, something watched. She couldn’t see it, but instinct told her it was there. Her fingers automatically moved to the scar that reminded her every day of what monsters were capable of. The ever-present knot in her stomach tightened. It had been more than a year since Rob Littleton had held a knife to her neck and pierced the delicate skin of her throat; a little longer since his last known kill. There’d been no sign of him; long gone, the police believed. There was no reason to think he was still out there lurking behind every tree, in every dark corner. But the feeling of being watched was always with her. Tonight, out here, it was stronger than ever.

  A movement caught her eye – a branch waving in the breeze, or something more sinister? And what was that silhouette in the distance? A tree stump? A curious roo? A murderer?

  She stepped back, tripping over a mass that moved and yelped, causing a short scream of her own.

  ‘Joxer?’

  The cowering dog’s tail thumped twice and he lifted his head to sniff nervously at her hand.

  ‘You snuck up on me.’ Moonlight reflected off a small gash on the side of the dog’s head and a gentle examination revealed swelling and abrasions around his neck, but no obvious broken bones.

  ‘Come on, mate, in the car.’

  She carefully lifted him into the cage in the back of the four-wheel drive and took one last look behind her. The shape she’d been so certain had been there had disappeared. Anxiety slid towards fear. It was time to go.

  She glanced in the rear-view mirror as she distanced herself from the scene and the countryside faded back into the night. No, they said, there was no reason to believe Rob Littleton was still out there. But she knew better. This was his territory, his hunting ground. As long as he was alive, there would be death.

  She wondered who would be next.

  CHAPTER

  2

  The rhythm of her feet kept time with the music pumping in her ears as she ran along the narrow concrete path that bordered Hunters Ridge Sports Park. A couple more joggers were out, and the Tai Chi group was under the stand of old oak trees, moving gracefully through their routine. Otherwise, the park and the streets were quiet.

  There was a chill to the morning air that cooled Ebony’s body as she pushed herself through a short sprint. She reached the end of Blackbutt Rd and slowed to a comfortable jog, then turned down Eucalypt St where a line of older-style cottages interrupted by the occasional new home sat on tidy, quarter-acre blocks. People were moving behind windows, radios chattered, children laughed and bins rattled as they were brought in. Hunters Ridge was waking up. Though the farmers just out of town would have been hard at work for hours already, the townsfolk were more laid back with their waking and working hours.

  She stepped around a tired mother pushing a pram and lifted her gaze when a horn beeped in greeting. She waved at the familiar car as it continued down the road. Jo Sommers, owner of two Jack Russell terriers with a fetish for destroying furniture. She smiled at the memory of the photo Jo had shown her during her last visit, because it wasn’t her sofa they’d destroyed.

  A bark loud enough to penetrate the music and much deeper than the terriers would have made had her turning to a wrought-iron gate. ‘Hi Duke!’ She puffed just a little as she greeted the lab with the way-too-happy grin.

  Rounding the bend brought her back to the main street, where shopfronts were still tucked up tight. But the bakery was open, and the smell of fresh bread had her salivating as she jogged past. Almost there. When she reached the hardware store she checked for cars, crossed the street and headed back onto Willow Tree Drive. She passed the tiny public hall that sat on the corner, crossed the main entrance to the park, and was back at her surgery. Half the property was surrounded by a large metal fence, while the remnants of piles of sand and building materials sat alongside small machinery in what would one day be her new car park.

  She cast her eye over the new building, now completed – at least on the outside – next door to her original surgery. Her new equine facility – with examination rooms, stables and an adjoining kennel for the boarders she was going to take on – would be an exciting extension to her business. With the interiors also well on their way to being finished, the addition would be open for business in just a few more weeks. Lee was coming in this morning to get some more work completed. No sign of him yet, though he wouldn’t be far away.

  At the surgery entrance she stopped, dropped her hands to her thighs and took a few deep breaths. She caught sight of a cigarette butt by the doorway. Damn, she wished clients wouldn’t smoke outside her building. She kicked it aside before pulling the earphones from her ears and keying in the security code.

  The automatic glass doors slid quietly open and she stepped inside before relocking them then moved through the bright reception room and down the corridor. Still puffing a little, she poked her head into the recovery room. Joxer was sleeping, but he’d finished his breakfast. Good. She’d have to remember to take him out for a short walk before beginning her consults. Satisfied, she continued down to the back of the building and climbed the stairs to her apartment.

  Her living area was spacious and decorated with neutral shades in French provincial style: elegant, yet comfortable. Practical, like its owner. She’d inherited some of her mother’s talent for design, and while she didn’t have the same million-dollar budget, Ebony was happy enough with the results. Thinking of her mother reminded her she had to check in: since the attack, she’d called her every week to reassure her all was well.

  Ebony’s fingers moved to the scar on her neck, a habit she’d developed whenever she thought about it. She liked to believe she was over the worst of the emotional after-effects, though those first few months had been difficult. Her parents had done everything they could to persuade her to come home, and for a while, she’d been tempted to lick her wounds in her old room, protected from the world by the tall double gates that surrounded her parents’ immaculate estate. If she had, no doubt they would have handed her a credit card and given her carte blanche on a wing of rooms to decorate.

  But she’d stayed in the place she’d run to when she’d craved independence and a chance to prove she could make a success of herself. Stayed with the friends who’d shared that terrifying ordeal with her. They’d supported each other, healed together. And the longer Ebony stayed in Hunters Ridge, the easier it was to beat back the fear. She just wished she could believe it was really over.

  Shaking off the memories, she stepped under the shower, then grabbed a quick breakfast and skipped lightly back down the stairs, heading for her computer. Today was going to be busy: a couple of vaccinations; a euthanasia – Mr Todd’s poodle – not looking forward to that one; a cat with a mysterious lump; then house calls. Out to help Frank Parker’s kids with their poddy calf; figure out the feather-loss issue on old Jenny Turner’s cockatiel; and an end-of-the-day run out to her sister-in-law’s riding school to check on a lame pony.

  The phone rang. Ebony squeezed in another appointment, effectively ending any chance she’d have for a lunch break. She desperately needed another vet. At least she had the fresh-out-of-university Louise to help out for another six months, but she’d have to advertise again soon. If only Louise would take up more slack – Ebony couldn’t exactly split herself
in two, or start knocking back clients. The phone rang again – yes, of course she could see them. When? She extended her working day another half hour and transferred some of her easier afternoon consults to Louise. Like it or not, Louise was going to be working late too.

  ‘Morning, Ebs!’ The greeting travelled up the corridor as Lee burst through the back door and stomped cheerfully into reception. Ebony’s pulse did its usual little skip. Her brother’s best friend and business partner was six feet two of the most outstanding male specimen she’d ever encountered. Her idea of the perfect hero was freshly showered, his light brown hair still damp. It needed a cut, but it almost always did. And it suited him that way. As did the light shadow of stubble that followed the definite line of his cheek and jaw. His oldest workpants were frayed at the hems and his white tee was grey with age and hugged his broad shoulders before loosening over what she knew was a classic set of washboard abs. He was rough around the edges, no question, nothing like the lawyers and professional types she’d grown up around. When Lee dragged a hand through his already mussed hair, she stifled a sigh. Then he shot her a lopsided grin that reflected the warmth in his sexy green eyes and four years of unrequited lust imploded inside her.

  She sometimes wondered – fantasised – about what would happen if she just jumped on him.

  Yeah. Right.

  She flicked him a distracted smile and did her best to pretend she wasn’t imagining eating him up. ‘Morning. Coffee’s not on down here yet, but it’s still hot upstairs.’

  ‘You read my mind.’ He disappeared back down the corridor, completely at home.

  Wish you’d read mine. Lee was currently busy with the small flat over her new building, which was going to accommodate a new vet – when she managed to find a permanent one. Its completion would be a great relief. But once it was finished she wouldn’t have the gorgeous he-man strolling through her back door several mornings a week. There was a downside to everything.