Legacy of Hunters Ridge Read online

  ‘Because Detective Bowden still thinks I started the fire on purpose.’

  ‘That seems to be the issue. This could go on for a while. You’re going to need to be very careful with your finances.’ He linked his fingers on the desk in front of him and looked at her with sympathy. ‘My advice would be to put this property on the market as soon as possible.’

  She nodded slowly. Could she go out there? All that way? See Mavis? Maybe Mia might come with her. ‘I’ll need the address.’

  Gordon nodded. ‘I’ve been informed it would be best to see Mavis quickly. When shall I say you’ll be down?’

  ‘I don’t know. I need to talk to Mia. Figure it out.’

  ‘Darling, sit up for Mummy! There’s a gooood boooy. Mummy’s munchkin’s soooo clever!’

  Napoleon Brown stood on his hind legs, his little hat tilted regally while the sword fastened to his tiny paw waved in victory.

  ‘Did you get that? Did you get that shot?’ Mrs Frank turned her attention from poodle number two to Mia, who nodded with a professionally cool smile.

  ‘Sure did. We should start on the last dog now, Mrs Frank.’

  Mrs Frank smooched Napoleon then tucked him under one arm and flounced off to where her assistant was holding two more small dogs. ‘We’ll need a moment to get into our costume, won’t we, Paddington?’ she addressed the chocolate brown poodle. ‘Won’t be long,’ she added with a wave over her shoulder.

  Mia pressed her lips together hard and, on the sidelines, Ally’s own lips twitched in amusement. No matter how scathing Mia was of these types of shoots, Ally knew the results would be exactly right. Mia wouldn’t be satisfied until they were. She could take a good photo, no question, but it was what happened to an image afterwards that was Mia’s forte. The woman could tuck, nip, airbrush, trim and accentuate anything, turning flabby thighs thin or sparse eyelashes thick in just a few moments. Angles, perspective, lighting and computer software could make the most difficult of clients’ dreams come true. The greater the challenge, the more Mia enjoyed it. And she did it with an easy grace and flair that had clients eating out of her hands. Mrs Frank, as difficult as she could be, was no exception.

  Ally’s phone rang, diverting her attention. Digging it out of her handbag, she noticed the number for her real estate agent flashing onscreen.

  She listened in silence as her agent excitedly chattered in her ear. An offer had been made on the house. In the current market it was a good one – she was advised to take it. Ally heard herself agree. There were papers to sign, when would she like to come in? A moment later, Ally hung up.

  She was selling her house. After a year on the market, she was taking an offer she’d refused twice already. But with Gordon’s advice clear in her mind, it made sense. No insurance money meant no income. The bills were going to keep coming. Sell both properties, pay off the loans, buy something small, have money in the bank. That was sensible.

  But her nerves were in knots on top of knots. The house had been her one constant. She’d cocooned herself there since returning from hospital. It was her link to her horses, her marriage, the only life she’d ever wished for. Every dream she’d ever had, ever made reality, was tied up in that place. Her pulse started to race, her breathing sped up. She wondered if the agent had disclosed the information regarding the two deaths on the property. Things like that understandably freaked some people out. Maybe they wouldn’t want it. This could just be a false alarm. There was a possibility they’d change their mind.

  She stopped – stopped fiddling with her shirt and stopped her runaway thoughts. She was working herself into a panic attack. She needed to breathe, to focus, to relax.

  Mia crossed the studio, her heels clacking lightly on the floorboards, and dropped into a chair. ‘Who was that?’

  ‘The real estate agent. I just sold my house.’

  Mia’s face brightened. ‘Excellent. We’ll have to celebrate, go house hunting.’

  Ally nodded, focused on breathing normally. ‘Do you really think I’m doing the right thing?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said very definitely. ‘Ally, we talked and talked about this. You need to move on.’

  ‘I know I just – don’t know.’

  ‘We can’t afford for you to keep it. You’re sitting on a million-dollar property and you’re in debt.’ Mia smothered a yawn. ‘Sorry, this is tiring.’

  Ally attempted a smile. ‘You know what they say about working with kids and animals.’ Mia was right. She just needed to calm down, get used to the idea, ignore the stab of anxiety until it wore off.

  ‘It’s not the animals – though Henry Pickles, Napoleon Brown and Paddington Booty have their moments. It’s Mrs Frank. She’s beyond eccentric, selectively deaf and has no concept of schedules or fashion sense. What happened with Gordon?’

  ‘Mavis is dying. She’s asked to see me.’

  Mia pulled a face. ‘Better be careful – she’s probably planning on taking you with her.’

  ‘That would be funny except … maybe it’s not so far-fetched.’

  ‘You can’t drive all that way just to talk to her. It’s – what? Four or five hours away? Past Rylstone? You haven’t driven yourself anywhere more than four or five kilometres in months.’

  ‘It’s four, I think. And I haven’t needed to. I do now.’

  ‘Out of the question. You’re not up to it.’

  ‘I just sold my house.’

  ‘Which is enough for you to deal with for the time being. Let me deal with Mavis.’

  ‘But –’ A movement caught Ally’s eye and her anxiety was momentarily erased by amusement. She quickly bit back the laugh that bubbled in her throat, but Mia caught the strangled noise and looked up. Paddington Booty and Mrs Frank were dressed in matching sailor’s uniforms, practising poses. ‘Looks like they’re ready. Go do your thing.’

  Mia smiled around clenched teeth. ‘This is not “my thing”. This is Adam punishing me for not going out with him.’

  ‘So remind your boss about sexual harassment laws by suing for your own studio.’

  ‘I’m close. That graphic arts course is looking really good.’

  ‘You’ve been threatening to do that for years and yet … You know, I think you silently enjoy all this dress-up poodle stuff.’

  ‘Watch it. We’ll talk about Mad Mavis and evil bosses later. Go next door and look in the real estate window. I’ll be done in ten.’ She flicked another look across the room and grimaced. ‘Maybe twenty.’

  Ally did as Mia suggested. She spent twenty minutes browsing homes in the display windows, then another five flicking through the latest real estate magazine. There were plenty of nice houses, and the market was good. But what did she want? What could she

  afford? What if she made the wrong decision?

  ‘Excellent, you’ve got a brochure.’ Mia appeared behind her and took it from her, gazing over it. ‘There’s another place across the street that might have a different one. We’ll head over there, go to the café on the corner. I really need a coffee – or two. Possibly followed up with some alcohol.’

  ‘It wasn’t that bad, was it?’

  ‘Honey, for the grand finale, the poodles wore little lifeguard outfits. I had to pose them on Mrs Frank. She was wearing a tiny polka-dot bikini and reclining like Marilyn Monroe.’

  Ally choked with laughter. ‘I take it back. That’s just plain traumatic.’

  Two hundred pages of houses and a full hour later, Ally turned down Mia’s offer of another skim cap and closed the brochure. She needed a sedative more than a stimulant. And something was bothering her. ‘Mia, just how much debt am I in?’

  ‘I told you not to worry about it.’

  She tipped her head to the side as she considered her sister. ‘It’s just that after talking to Gordon today, I’ve been thinking. There’s no money coming in, and loads of bills. My savings can’t have stretched that far. There wasn’t enough there after David bought Mavis’s place.’

  Mia gave a o
ne-shoulder shrug. ‘Things will be better now your house is sold.’

  ‘Did you sell your car to cover my rehab costs?’

  ‘I told you I didn’t need that car. The one I have now is perfectly fine.’

  Ally digested that, ashamed. ‘I’m relying on you for everything. It’s not fair, Mia. You shouldn’t have to support me, sell your own things to pay for mine.’

  ‘I don’t see it that way. You’re my sister. Mum and Dad have been chipping in too. And you’d do the same for me. I know you would.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’

  Mia dropped the brochure and folded her arms on the table. ‘Ally, give yourself a break – you nearly died. Yes, the doctors are impressed with your progress, you’ve exceeded all their expectations. But if you start putting too much emotional pressure on yourself, you’ll go backwards.’

  ‘Now the house is sold, I should pay you back. I want to pay you back.’

  Mia’s glossy red fingernails flashed as she put her hand over Ally’s. ‘Let’s just see what you’re left with once the bills are taken care of. This money’s going to have to stretch a long way.’

  ‘Which is why Gordon suggested I should put Mavis’s house on the market straight away.’

  Mia’s brow shot up. ‘You can do that now?’

  ‘She can’t live in it anymore, so yeah. She’s in hospital. She doesn’t have long, by the sound of it.’

  ‘That’s horrible for Mavis, and I don’t mean this to come out the wrong way, but thank God. That place has been a big drain.’

  Too big, by the sound of it. Ally looked out over the street, watched the crowds moving from one place to the next. Everyone was going somewhere, most were in a hurry. They had lives to get on with. She missed that. She missed having something to do when she got up every morning, missed making plans and stressing over fitting everything in. There had never been enough hours in the day. Since the fire, there’d been too many. So she’d get out of debt, pay Mia back, but then what?

  ‘What else is bugging you, Al?’

  She sucked in a deep breath, sighed, shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to do. If I buy one of these houses, pay off the debts, even have a bit to live off for a while, what then?’

  ‘You’ll figure that out when you’re ready.’

  ‘That’s what Dr Jackson keeps saying, but I don’t think sitting around waiting to get better is helping. I realised that today, because I’m scared of driving myself out to see Mavis, I’m petrified of selling my house. I’m ashamed that I’ve let you take care of everything for this long. I don’t even recognise myself anymore. If I don’t do something soon, I’ll end up huddling like a lunatic in the corner of some padded cell.’

  ‘Don’t be a drama queen.’

  ‘I’m just saying … Dr Jackson mentioned once that if I expose myself to little bits and pieces of my past, then maybe I can get over it.’

  ‘Is that what you want? To go back to training horses?’

  Ally shrugged, played with her serviette. ‘Part of me wants to, part of me doesn’t. I feel guilty even thinking about starting again.’

  Mia expelled a long, frustrated breath. ‘It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.’

  Ally’s eyes flashed. ‘Of course it was. I should have blown those candles out.’

  Mia flopped back in her chair, her arms going out to her sides in a frustrated gesture. ‘Here we go again. Okay: David shouldn’t have lit them in the first place. David shouldn’t have been fucking another woman. David –’

  ‘David is dead. Can we not do this?’

  Mia got abruptly to her feet. ‘I’m sorry, Ally, but until you listen, until you accept it for what it was, you’re not going to get better, whether you want to or not. So let’s begin.’ She picked up the real estate guides. ‘Get your arse out of that seat. We’re going to organise a couple of viewings.’

  CHAPTER

  2

  Ally slid her feet into her shoes and felt – imagined she heard – their dual screams of protest. ‘You know, people complain their feet are killing them, but I don’t think I ever truly appreciated what it felt like.’

  Mia gave her a sisterly look of disapproval. ‘Maybe you do need to toughen up.’

  ‘Fourteen houses in three days? Nothing to it. Where are we off to first today?’

  ‘Your enthusiasm’s overwhelming. Damn.’ Mia dug her phone out of her purse and answered it. From the roll of her eyes, Ally figured it was Adam, so she went into the kitchen to clean up from breakfast.

  She’d just reached the sink when the police car pulled up in her driveway. Detective Ben Bowden climbed out and her stomach took a quick dive.

  ‘Shit.’ He wasn’t in a suit today, dressed simply in jeans and a black T-shirt, but the casual look didn’t make him appear any more approachable. She supposed he wasn’t much older than she was, but with his strong face and dark features, he carried an air of authority greater than his years. His probing stare and ruthless interview techniques had put her into more than one panic attack during questioning.

  Which is why Mia hated him.

  The possibility Mia might spot him was the only thing that propelled Ally towards the door. Since he’d triggered that last, particularly bad, attack at the hospital, Mia hadn’t been able to tolerate Ben Bowden at all, and relations had only deteriorated further with every face-to-face meeting. Praying her sister would be held up on the phone just long enough, Ally rallied her courage and slipped quietly out of the house.

  ‘Alissa.’ Ben Bowden leant casually against his car, arms folded. As always, he raked that stare over her as though looking for some sort of incriminating evidence.

  ‘Detective.’

  ‘Heard you sold your house.’

  She couldn’t make a move without him knowing. ‘Amazing. I haven’t told anyone.’

  His grin flashed for a split second, transforming his expression from overbearing to roguish, but then it was gone. ‘I have my sources.’

  I’ll just bet you do. The coil of anxiety that always sat in her stomach when he questioned her squished her small show of bravado and had her fingers moving to her shirt, playing with the material to keep them from shaking.

  ‘How’s the memory going?’

  Ally’s gaze dropped to the ground while she concentrated on keeping her voice clear and calm. ‘It’s not going, it’s gone. I told you if I remembered anything, I’d be in touch.’

  ‘You sure about that?’

  ‘Detective Bowden, please, I told you I –’

  The front door slammed.

  Oh shit.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Mia stalked towards the detective.

  In contrast to Ally’s anxious jolt, Ben’s relaxed stance didn’t alter. ‘Just checking in. How are you, Mia?’

  ‘Don’t you dare take that pleasant, patronising cop tone with me, you condescending sack of shit.’ Mia put herself between him and Ally. ‘What do you want this time?’

  ‘Just another chat.’

  ‘Oh good. Because I’m not convinced we’ve wasted enough time on this. Don’t you have any real work to do?’

  ‘Like catching arsonists and murderers, you mean?’

  Mia’s expression was pure loathing. ‘You couldn’t catch a disease, more’s the pity.’

  ‘So defensive, Mia. Anyone would think you were hiding something.’

  ‘Stop persecuting my sister.’

  ‘Stop it please, both of you!’ Ally said. ‘This is pointless.’

  ‘Not pointless, Alissa. Are we going to discuss this here, or at the station?’

  Mia threw her hands in the air. ‘There’s just no polite way to get you to fuck off, is there?’

  He casually shifted his weight, leant in, lifted his brow. And smirked at her. ‘There’s really no need to be so aggressive, Mia.’

  Slap! Mia’s palm connected with Ben’s cheek, leaving a large red stain. ‘How’s that for aggressive?’

  ‘Good enough to get you arrested.’
r />   Panic surged through Ally. ‘She didn’t mean it, detective – she was just –’

  ‘Hell yes, I meant it!’

  Ben pulled the cuffs from his belt. Mia simply held her hands out, the defiant expression never leaving her face as he clipped them into place and walked her to the police car.

  The keys landed in their little kitchen bowl hard enough that they jumped back out. Ally impatiently swept them off the floor, dropped them back in and flopped heavily into her chair. What a waste of a day. What an expensive waste of a day.

  He’d had to smirk at her. If there was one thing that sent Mia over the edge when she was pissed, it was being laughed at.

  So Ally had followed the detective’s car to the police station, petrified her sister was going to prison. She’d sat around for hours, chewing her fingernails to nothing, until Mia had been charged and fined. She’d finally dropped her unrepentant sister off about a half-hour ago. Now it was four o’clock and she was overdue for her meds. With an agitated groan, she dragged herself up, took a pill from its container and swallowed it down.

  Her head was pounding, but she knew she was too emotionally wound up to try to close her eyes. She switched on the television and stared blankly at the screen. Her thoughts wandered.

  Today was a perfect example of how off-track her life had gotten. It was all one big mess. Things couldn’t continue this way. Worse, she was dragging Mia down with her. Ally allowed her gaze to roam over the house, remembering some of the good times, the moments she and David had shared there. The familiar pain in her chest and the ache in her belly pulled her back. It was time to stop living in the past. Selling the house was for the best. A new place, some money in the bank, would be a relief.

  Turning, she knocked a neat stack of unopened mail from the counter. There were a couple of bank statements Mia had yet to pick up, a bill from Dr Jackson. She sat down and pried them open. It was time she knew what she was dealing with.

  The envelopes’ contents were slap-in-the-face reality, and the drugs she’d taken combined with her headache had her fighting to keep her eyes open. She put on her pyjamas, wrapped herself up in the blankets, turned the television down low, got comfortable. Fell into the nightmare.