Promise of Hunters Ridge Read online

  He’d just stepped through her gate when Mia appeared in her doorway.

  ‘Again?’

  ‘Can’t keep away. You busy?’

  Her brow creased at his abrupt tone. ‘Yes.’ She stood her ground, considering him as he reached the top step. ‘But I’m guessing you want to come in anyway.’ Reluctantly, she took a step back, held the door open.

  The dining table, her desk and a coffee table were covered in photographs and advertisements. She had three laptops set up showing pictures in the process of having logos added. Kids’ faces were smiling at him from all over the room. Jasper came down the stairs, tail moving lazily from side to side as he greeted Ben. Mia sat on the lounge, tucked one leg under her and tipped her head to the side. Waiting.

  He made himself comfortable, trying to ignore how goddamn gorgeous she was and keep his head in the right space. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but there was no denying that over the last few months she’d changed. That lovely soft body was tougher, much more athletic. Too much so for it to be anything other than purposeful. He filed the thought away for later.

  ‘What were you doing at the prison this morning?’

  She lifted that perfect eyebrow. ‘Even for you, that’s fast.’

  ‘You spoke to Brent Boland.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Paid him some money?’

  The eyebrow rose higher. ‘Keep it up, you obviously know as much as I do.’

  Restlessly, he stood. ‘This is not funny, Mia.’ He lifted his hands, dropped them. ‘Can you possibly explain to me why you would do something so stupid?’

  Mia straightened, glared. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You know you shouldn’t have gone in there! You’re a key prosecution witness. You don’t visit—let alone throw money at—someone you’re testifying against. Who knows what damage you’ve done to the case.’

  Temper sparked in her eyes. ‘I had my reasons.’

  ‘Which were?’

  Her expression dropped into a scowl. ‘That bloody annoying reporter turned up on my doorstep—told me Brent had some life-or-death information for me.’

  ‘Davis Walker told you that? He organised this?’

  ‘Right. So I decided I’d better go.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going to see him?’

  Her chin came up. ‘Because members of the public visit prisoners every day without talking to detectives first?’

  ‘This is different and you know it.’

  She closed her eyes and released a breath. ‘Okay, maybe I should have told you about it. But I didn’t even think I’d get in. And when I did … I just wanted to know what he had to say.’

  ‘And the outcome?’

  She hesitated. ‘I don’t know. We’ll see.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  She opened her mouth, closed it again and shook her head. ‘It means I don’t know. We’ll see.’

  ‘Mia …’ He knew that look on her face. She wasn’t going to budge. He tried one last time anyway. ‘Whatever this is, I can help you. Trust me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ben. This time you’re going to have to trust me.’

  She got up to walk him to the door and he halted her with a hand on her arm. ‘Trusting you is different to expecting you to know how to deal with these people. You can’t believe a thing that man tells you. I need to know what went on so I’m prepared if anything comes up in court.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t want you to see him again, okay?’

  She nodded and stood on her doorstep while he walked to her gate. He hadn’t given up—he’d get it out of her, somehow. Even now she was deliberating over giving him something, he could see it. He had his hand on the latch when she finally spoke.

  ‘Is it true Grant Turlington was murdered after agreeing to talk to you?’

  He turned back around, took his time answering her. ‘He was murdered. I don’t know that it had anything to do with an upcoming interview.’

  ‘An interview … like the one you’re planning with Stansky?’

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘If he ends up dead there is.’

  A passer-by looked over with interest and Ben moved back to the steps. ‘What did he say?’

  They considered each other, a silent battle of wills.

  ‘Just that. Have a nice day, detective.’ She retreated inside and closed the door.

  Ben got into the office early the following morning, smelled coffee and headed for the machine. There was a sprinkling of officers about, coming on and going off shift. The general atmosphere and a few frazzled expressions told him it had been another busy night. He made himself a coffee and went into his office. He’d check his emails, do some general follow-up, then catch up with Russ before he headed out to Silverwater for the Stansky interview.

  Mia had clearly not wanted to say much yesterday, but she’d been worried enough about what was going on to mention the man could be in trouble. He was pretty sure Stansky’s and Boland’s imminent trials were behind whatever was going on. So he’d get to the bottom of that, then he’d bail up Boland. There was only one thing that man could dangle in front of Mia that she would be interested in hearing and that was where to find Rob. From Mia’s comments, he guessed she was waiting on information. But why involve Mia? What was Boland demanding in return? He didn’t believe for one minute it would only be the hundred she’d put in his account. Mia wasn’t any pushover and she knew how to hold her own, but he didn’t want her getting sucked into whatever Boland or anyone he was associated with were up to.

  Russ appeared in his doorway just as Ben was about to head out and look for him. He was on the phone and, from the look on his face, wasn’t happy. He nodded in greeting, promised someone they were on their way, and hung up.

  ‘Ben.’

  ‘Morning. What’s going on?’

  ‘We need to get out to Silverwater.’

  ‘Yeah, I want to pull in Boland while we’re there.’

  ‘I think you’re going to be pretty busy without bothering Boland today.’ Russ was already walking. ‘Stansky got shivved in the shower last night. Sharpened toothbrush.’

  ‘He’s dead?’

  ‘Very dead.’

  ‘Damn!’ He rubbed his fingers over his forehead as Mia’s words echoed through his mind. ‘I should have done something last night.’

  Russ glanced sideways. ‘How could you have predicted this?’

  ‘Mia said—’

  Russ stopped in his tracks. ‘Mia? How would she know anything about Stansky being murdered?’

  ‘She mentioned him yesterday.’ And he should have damn well pushed her until she told him all of it. Furious with himself, he resumed walking. At the very least he should have got Stansky out of the general prison population straightaway. Whatever Boland was feeding Mia there was obviously some truth to it.

  ‘You think Boland said something about it during their visit?’ Russ asked, catching up.

  ‘Yeah, I do.’

  ‘But she didn’t give you details.’ They reached the car and got in. ‘I still can’t get over the fact she even went out there and faced that guy,’ Russ said thoughtfully as he started the engine.

  ‘What’s not to believe?’ Ben asked. ‘This is Mia we’re talking about. Davis told her Boland wanted to see her. She went.’

  ‘What’s Davis got to do with this?’

  ‘I’m guessing he’s been pushing Boland for info, just like he has Mia.’

  ‘And you really think it’s as simple as that? Mia gets a summons from Boland via Davis and off she goes? I don’t know what happened between those two on the night of the hunt, but I know what they both looked like afterwards.’

  So did he. And he remembered that Boland had come off worse. ‘Mia would do just about anything if she thought it might lead to Littleton’s arrest. That’s got to be what this is all
about.’

  ‘And yet, Stansky came up.’

  ‘Boland told her about Turlington, made out he was being shut up before he could talk to us. I gather that’s what he’s going to say has happened to Stansky too.’

  ‘Boland’s the only other prisoner associated with the hunters who’s in there. If that’s the case, and he’s not responsible, who would it be?’

  ‘That’s what he’s going to tell us.’

  But Ben got caught up most of the day in the Stansky investigation, and Boland refused to open his mouth at all. Scared, Ben decided. But of who? And how was someone getting away with this? He needed answers, and he had to hope this latest development might persuade Mia to talk. As soon as he got back to the station and managed to find a spare moment, he picked up his phone and called her.

  ‘Mia Morgan.’ Her professional voice was smooth as honey, and not the tone she normally reserved for him.

  ‘I thought you said you had my number saved in your contacts.’

  ‘Oh, it’s you. Again.’

  ‘That’s more what I was expecting.’

  ‘I wasn’t looking, just answered. That’ll teach me.’

  His mouth curved in response to the smile in her voice. He hadn’t expected an overly warm greeting after yesterday, but the light, familiar sparring was a relief after the tension of their last conversation. ‘I need to talk to you.’

  ‘I gathered that by the phone call. Is this about Brent Boland again?’

  ‘It’s related.’

  There was a slight pause, then she said, ‘I’ve already spoken to you about this. And right now I’m working. Can’t it wait?’

  ‘No, sorry. Are you at home?’

  ‘No. And I’m going back to Hunters Ridge tonight, as soon as I’ve—’

  ‘Where are you, Mia?’ He’d stepped down yesterday; he wasn’t letting her win this time.

  ‘Damn it, Ben …’ The sigh was impatient. ‘I’m already rushed off my feet here.’ But she gave him the name of a photographic studio before ending the call.

  Ben typed the name into his phone, found an address. It was nearly five and it was going to take him an hour in traffic at this time of day to get there. Would the studio still be open? He wouldn’t put it past Mia not to wait if she finished up beforehand. She didn’t enjoy being pushed.

  But the doors slid open when he arrived at the building and he found himself in a chic reception area. Another door behind the desk opened almost immediately and he was greeted by a beanpole of a young man with a highly stylised hairdo and a rustic brown suit.

  ‘May I help you?’ he asked, looking Ben up and down with curiosity.

  ‘I’m after Mia.’

  ‘Are you a client?’

  ‘No, but she’s expecting me.’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘Playing guard dog again, Mortimer?’ A polished young blonde sporting what could only be a very expensive camera walked out from behind him and smiled. ‘Hi—you’re here to see Mia?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  The woman studied him with interest, nodded. ‘She’s in a mood—are you the reason for it?’

  ‘Usually.’

  She laughed. ‘She squeezed in one last client this afternoon but I think they’re just about done. Follow me.’

  She led him into a hallway lined with framed photographs and through the door at the end of it. The room was a large, neutral space with various sets and props, and Mia was working with a couple of young men wearing well-cut suits at the far end. Her hair was pulled into a fancy knot and she was dressed in some creation that flowed around her like water when she moved on strappy heels. She looked more like she should be in front of the camera than behind it, he thought.

  After a few more shots she put the camera down, spoke to the men, consulted with a couple of women watching. One of the models stood close to talk to Mia and look at the camera as she sat on a stool, flicking through some shots he supposed. She smiled as she looked up and spoke to him. The guy beamed back, put a hand on her shoulder. It bothered Ben more than it should have.

  ‘Should be right to interrupt now,’ the blonde said to Ben, then louder, ‘Hey, Mia, someone here for you.’

  Mia glanced up and, spotting them, dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling before getting to her feet. She spent a few more minutes talking to the group she was with then she strode across the room.

  ‘You know, some people would call this stalking.’

  ‘Others would call it following up with an uncooperative witness.’

  Her big blue eyes widened then stirred with challenge. ‘Unco—would you like to see uncooperative?’

  He held up a hand in mock defence. ‘I’ve known you for several years. I’m aware of what it looks like.’

  ‘Oh, now he’s a comedian.’

  ‘You’ve given me plenty of practice.’ He leant in just a touch, lowered his tone. ‘One day you won’t scowl when you see me coming and I’ll pass out from shock.’

  She paused, then leant in conspiratorially. ‘You’re more likely to pass out from holding your breath waiting.’ She patted his cheek lightly then all that flowy material swished as she turned and walked back to her camera.

  He laughed out a sigh. ‘Mia … please?’

  She began disassembling the camera and putting it into a case. ‘All right,’ she sighed. ‘But to be fair, I’m beyond busy and here you are again. So.’ She turned around. ‘To what do I owe this latest inconvenience?’

  ‘We need to go somewhere and talk.’

  ‘We are somewhere and talking. Won’t this do?’

  He looked around, saw the other people in the room heading out. ‘Are they coming back?’

  ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Then, yeah, okay.’

  She waved a hand at a plastic chair, took another and sat, crossing one shapely leg over the other. He saw her guard come up—she hadn’t changed her mind about talking to him.

  ‘Stansky was murdered last night. Someone sharpened the end of a toothbrush and stabbed it into him until he was dead.’

  Her eyes reflected her shock, then closed as she absorbed the news. It took a few seconds for her to reply. ‘I wasn’t sure I believed him—Brent, I mean. Why would I?’

  ‘You need to tell me what he said.’ He realised he could have phrased that better when her eyes flashed with annoyance.

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘All right.’ He leant back in his chair. ‘Why won’t you tell me? What are you worried about?’

  ‘Do I look worried?’

  ‘I know something’s bothering you.’

  ‘Did it occur to you that could simply be the enormous amount of work I’m not getting done while we talk in circles?’

  ‘No. It’s more than that or you wouldn’t have dropped that hint about Stansky yesterday. You can’t expect to be able to handle Boland on your own.’

  Her chin came up. ‘Let me remind you, I “handled” Boland before. Completely on my own.’

  ‘Which is why I shouldn’t need to tell you these people are dangerous. What did he say?’ Backing her into a corner wasn’t the smartest way to go about this, but he was running out of options. He eased back on the tone. ‘I can’t let this go, you know that. And we’re supposed to be on the same side, remember?’

  She didn’t say anything. He could almost see her debating in her mind what to tell him. He pushed a bit more.

  ‘How many times do I need to put my life on the line before I prove to you that you can trust me?’

  Still she waited a beat. Stared into space. Then she looked at him and he knew whatever the reason she was keeping quiet, she took it very seriously. ‘I can’t have anything to do with any of this. No one can know I spoke to you.’

  He wondered why but didn’t ask. Not yet. ‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘Talk to me.’

  ‘Boland’s hoping to do a deal to reduce his sentence, but the person who has the information he wants to hand over won’t deal with police, so he wants m
e to get it to you.’

  ‘What information?’

  ‘Everything you need to get your hands on the men involved in the hunting ring.’

  ‘I see.’ Even though it sounded too good to be true, a very big part of him hoped it wasn’t. But how would Boland have that information, and why wait until now? ‘And he picked you to deal with this person because he knew you’d have more motivation than most to get that list in the right hands.’

  ‘He knows I want Rob. Rob is on the list.’

  He ran a hand over his face as he thought about it. ‘Theoretically, it sounds great. But you need to stop and think. Do you trust him?’

  ‘Of course I don’t trust him! I know what he is. But he’s trying to get himself out of some jail time. Which is why I’m hoping he could be telling the truth.’

  Ben nodded. ‘I’m not discounting this. But it’s easy to get wrapped up in fiction or a twisted version of the truth when dealing with people like Boland. Especially when they’re telling you what you want to hear. There could be another motive in this altogether. How are you supposed to get it?’

  ‘I put another hundred in his account today. He said he’d get it to me. That’s all I know.’

  ‘All right …’ Ben thought about that. ‘I won’t spook him—yet. I’ll give it a few days to see if it plays out. But if anyone contacts you and tries to get more money—or wants you to go collect it—don’t. It could be a trap. For all we know it’s Rob who’s somehow manipulating all this. And whatever you do, don’t give anyone your address. There’s no reason the information can’t be emailed.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Why were you worried about telling me? What are you scared of?’

  Her gaze hardened. ‘The only thing I’m scared of is missing an opportunity to get Rob. And Brent said there are people who’ll kill him if they find out what he’s doing.’