Every day that I spent at Dun Roamin’ the place worked its way further into my heart. I found a contentment chatting to the chickens, companionship with Clifford, and a lasting friendship with the McKenzie men. Even Polly was changing her attitude toward me. I wouldn’t say I was becoming a country girl, but I was no longer a city girl either. In fact, being back in Westport felt strange. It felt like home yet it didn’t. As I made my way through the streets toward Tony and Christine’s, everything felt different but nothing here had changed. What had changed was inside me. Something in me now craved the wide-open spaces, the clean air, Clifford wagging his tail as he sat under the Jacaranda tree waiting to greet me, and Noah’s...well best not think about that.
We’d all been summonsed tonight to celebrate Christine’s fiftieth birthday. Family gossip had it that she’d actually turned fifty quite a few years ago, but between surgery and Botox she didn’t look a day over thirty-five, much to my mum’s disgust. She and Christine were mortal enemies hiding behind the illusion of relatives of the year.
The grand event was being held at Tony and Christine’s house. Or should I say estate. The five acres of manicured gardens surrounded the Spanish style home which had featured in more than one design magazine. But it felt unfriendly, the large shuttered windows frowned down on me as I stopped in front of the valet parking attendants who were hired for the occasion.
Stepping into the evening, the fairy lights twinkled in the breeze, and the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air. The atmosphere was festive, yet a weight sat in my chest, as my feet dragged me toward the door.
“Happy birthday.” I smiled as Christine greeted me with air kisses.
The smothering flowery scent of her perfume nearly choked me.
“Tilly. How lovely you could make it.” She expertly scanned my outfit, her lips pursing. Clearly it didn’t meet her expectations.
I’d chosen my royal blue dress with the high neck and short hem which I’d paired with my gold glitter Jimmy Choo pumps (surely even her expert eye couldn’t tell they were knock offs). I’d tied my long hair into an elegant bun and upped the make-up for maximum effect. “Thank you for inviting me. It’s lovely to be here,” I lied.
“You came alone?” A small smile played on her lips. “I did add a plus one to your invitation.”
“Yes, I saw that and thank you, but it’s just me tonight.”
Her tinkling laugh grated on my nerves. “I was so looking forward to meeting your man, Tilly.”
I didn’t bother to tell her that my man was no longer my man as I didn’t think she really cared that much. Instead I lifted a glass of sparkling wine from a tray a passing waiter was carrying and excused myself as I spotted my mum across the room. “How are you holding up?” I asked Mum, before kissing her cheek.
It was the first time I’d seen either of my parents since they’d returned from their travels. Apparently, Peru hadn’t agreed with them and Dad had to be carried off the Machu Picchu trail. I pitied the Inca’s who did the carrying.
“Where’s Dad?” I had a few questions to ask him, and this party gave me the safe zone to do it. He couldn’t yell at me in public.
“He’s nowhere to be seen.” She sighed. “I think he’s avoiding Tony. They did Machu Picchu a few years ago and loved it. I don’t think your father’s ready to answer questions about it, so he’s in hiding.”
“You’re not alone. I’m here now.” As far as I knew Mum was as innocent in the whole Matilda secret as I was.
“Thank you, Tilly. I know you didn’t want to come any more than we did, but I appreciate you doing so.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t want you to have all the fun. Your hair looks pretty, have you just had it done again?”
I think by birth she had mousy brown hair, but in all honesty, I’d never seen its natural color. I’d only ever known her to have it highlighted with different colored foils, shining under any lighting conditions and not a single hair daring to move from where she had set it. I had no understanding as to why she felt inadequate around Christine, because for a woman just shy of fifty, she was stunning.
Mum nodded before turning her designer eye to me. “Are they knock offs?” She looked at my shoes. As an interior designer, she’d always had an eye for detail.
“Of course. I can’t afford the real thing. Unless you want to add a pair to my Christmas list?” I asked hopefully.
She shot me down with a glare.
No harm in trying, right?
“I’ve been listening to Tony talking about your inheritance,” she said. “I want you to watch yourself around Ethan. That boy thinks he’s entitled to everything and he will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
All the bad things which had been happening at Dun Roamin’ flipped through my mind.
“What do you mean?” I asked her. “Surely all he can do is to go through the legal channels?”
Mum sighed. “Just don’t get too comfortable out there. If he can, he’ll be taking what’s his and that farm will be sold. Unless you can afford to buy it, you’ll have no option but to sell with him. Which is something you should consider. I worry about you all the way out there.”
“I’m fine,” I assured her, but my heart sank with her words. I stared across the room to Ethan talking with his father, Tony, and I thought of Clifford and Goatie, of Ruby, Polly, the cows, Passing Wind, and the chooks. What would happen to all of them if Ethan got his way?
My thoughts also flipped to Noah and my heart squeezed. I knew he couldn’t afford to buy me out, yet how would he manage if the Super farms held half my share?
I had to do everything I could to stop Ethan. But how? How could I fight the law?
A lump formed in my throat and I blinked back the tears that stung. Gulping what was left in my glass, I took some deep breaths and marched across the room.
May as well grab the bull by the horns and see what Ethan and Tony were really thinking.
“Hi Tony, Ethan,” I said, stepping up to them, a fake smile plastered on my lips.
“Tilly,” Tony replied coldly. “How’s life on the farm going?”
“It’s going okay. I’m learning a lot,” I replied, snatching a second glass of sparkling wine from a passing tray.
“We have our lawyers ready to contest that will you know.” He stared me down.
Ethan laughed. “They’re the best at what they do. So far they’re not even sure the will’s legal considering the solicitor and the agent are life partners and they’ll both benefit if you fail.”
“What are you talking about?” I frowned.
“The solicitor Gregory Blackburn and the real estate agent.” Ethan grinned.
“What about them?” I asked.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know?” Ethan rocked back on his heels, his self-satisfied smirk reminding me of the Joker.
I released a hard breath blowing a few stray hairs from my face and attempted to calm my emotions. “Know what, Ethan?”
“Blake Emerson and Gregory Blackburn the Third are partners. Life partners.” Ethan looked at me like I was an idiot.
Which to be fair, I probably was because I had no idea about the relationship between those men.
“How do you know this?” I demanded.
Ethan pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped open his photos. “I snapped this shot of the two of them at a function I was at last week.” Greg’s smile was large as he held Blake in an embrace, the two of them looking very much like a couple.
Humph. “This proves nothing,” I argued. “Greg has no benefit if the Arts Society get the farm.”
“If they’re prepared to sell it, he does. He’ll get a huge commission. From what I’ve learned, Dun Roamin’ is one of the few remaining properties that he needs, and Blake’s been offered a huge bonus if he gets all of the properties. Do you think the arts society would sell it?”
Damn skippy I did.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Ethan continued. “I’m not trying to cut you out completely. I’m just trying to get my share. I’ll be more than happy to sell it to you if you want it.” He rocked back on his heels and beamed. “Karma’s a bitch, Tilly.”
“Only if you are, Ethan. Only if you are.” With that I spun on my heel and hightailed it out of there.
I sucked in some much-needed oxygen and tried to calm myself. I was unable to stand still as my body tensed and the muscles in my neck quivered. My pulse raced.
Would Ethan really get Dun Roamin’ from me? How did he know about Greg and Blake and I hadn’t had a clue? Had I missed the clues because I didn’t want to see them?
Despite wanting to confront Dad, I hadn’t been able to stay at the party. Instead, I said my goodbye to Mum, and told her I’d visit her soon. I then drove on autopilot back to Littlebrook, my mind preoccupied by Ethan and Tony and what would happen if I lost this battle.
A battle, I might add, I had no idea how to fight.
It was only as I was nearing the turn off to town that my phone dinged from the depths of my bag, diverting my simmering temper. I was planning to ignore it but it dinged again. And then again.
Constant dinging rattled my nerves. Someone really needed me in a hurry to be messaging this often, so I pulled the car to the side of the road and found my phone.
There in bold capital letters, shining brightly on the screen were three texts.
I TOLD YOU TO GO BACK TO WHERE YOU BELONGED.
YOU’LL GET WHAT YOU DESERVE.
DON’T SAY YOU WEREN'T WARNED.
My stomach took a dive south as my palpitations kicked up a notch. Who knew my number? I hadn’t given it to that many people since being in town.
Pushing the car back into gear, I slammed the accelerator down on my little Fiat and rammed her to her limits, heading straight for the police station. I was tired of this. I was tired of feeling anxious and worried and scared, not just for myself but for Noah and Wally and Randall. I needed to find who was behind this and make them stop. Surely Doyle would be able to trace the messages and find out who sent them? This way the whole scare tactic thing might just be over tonight.
If it was only the messages and graffiti to deal with, I probably could have laughed it off as the prank Doyle originally believed it to be. But the gunshot and the bullets told me this person wasn’t messing around.
I needed this mystery solved, not just to get my life on track, but also to get Noah out of my bed. He was insisting on staying until the culprit was caught. Noah was hard to resist, even though there seemed to be no temptation coming from his end. Nope, all the longing was coming entirely from me. Yep, he needed to be safely back on his own side of the farm and out of reach of my dream filled fingers.
The lights on the police station were burning brightly as I pulled up outside, so I beeped the car locked and headed to the door. “Hello!” I called to the empty room.
Doyle was nowhere to be seen, so I sat myself down on the hard-plastic chair that was pushed against the wall. The sound of the ticking clock competed with the hum of the air conditioner and a chill danced over my skin. A twinge in my belly reminded me I hadn’t been to the toilet for a long time.
The station was only small, but there were two doors and I sure hoped one of them was the toilet. My heels clicked against the linoleum as I pushed the first door back and saw what looked like a store room. A small window on the far wall allowed the moonlight to shine on row after row of metal shelving which held multiple cardboard boxes, scattered belongings that looked to be lost and found, and a multitude of odds and ends.
Something on the other side of the room sparkled, catching my attention. Ignoring my screaming bladder, I dashed across the room on my tiptoes. When I saw what the sparkling object was, I gasped. It was a long gold chain with a tiny key dangling on the end of it.
Matilda’s key was cold against my hot palm. How had it come to be here? Had Doyle forgotten to give it to my dad? I seriously doubted it, because he would have mentioned it before now, and I distinctly remembered asking him if he’d seen it not that long ago. So why was it here? Had he just forgotten about it?
I closed my eyes and thought over the events leading to Matilda’s death and about everything I’d been told. From all the photos I’d seen of Matilda, the common factor in every one was the necklace holding the key—from the marriage of my great grandfather to the last photo Noah took of her at Christmas.
Footsteps echoed on the back stairs, getting closer as they made their way up. I had to get my thoughts together to fit these new puzzle pieces.
Making a fast decision, I grabbed the necklace, hung it over my neck, and tucked it into my dress. If Doyle noticed it missing, maybe he’d just think he’d misplaced it.
I attempted to wipe the guilty look off my face and quietly closed the door, hoping to look as if I was about to use the ladies.
“Tilly! What are you doing?” His eyes darted between me and the store room door.
“Hi Doyle. I was looking for you, but then I needed the ladies, so I just hopped up wondering if it’s in there.” My speech was rushed and I knew I had to slow it down before I looked suspicious.
A deep crease appeared between his brows as he assessed me. “The bathrooms are out the back. That room is for approved personnel only.” He nodded at the door.
“Silly me.” I awkwardly stepped from one foot to the other, unsure where to move.
Doyle’s frown deepened.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“Ummm...yes!” My nerves were rattling, making clear thinking difficult. “I’ve ah, had a few messages I was worried about.”
“You’d better show me,” he said, a grim twist to his mouth.
He stepped further into the room as I fumbled to get my phone.
“I don’t know who sent them,” I explained, handing it to him. “But I was hoping you could do the CSI thing and trace it.”
I fell silent as Doyle scrolled through the messages. “I’m not sure what I can find out, but I’ll follow it up.”
“Do you need to keep my phone?”
“No.”
“But you’ll need it surely?”
“Right now, I’m heading out to an accident on the highway. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll follow this up then. In the meantime, just be cautious.”
Bugger. I was hoping to have this solved in the next five minutes. But as the key burned warm against my skin, the need to distance myself was almost overwhelming.
“Great! Then I’ll give you a call in the morning,” I trilled, my nerves making me sound over excited.
I didn’t wait for him to show me out, instead I took a deep breath, and got out of there as fast as I could.
My plan was to go home and search for any locks the key might belong to. Plus, I wanted to ask Noah for his advice about Doyle.
Guilt and fear that I’d stolen from a police station weighed heavy on my chest and I felt the squeeze of panic with every breath. As soon as I’d found the lock which this key opened, I was going to make a trip back to town with the excuse that I thought I’d lost my bracelet and would Doyle mind me having a look around for it. I’d then find a way to get back into the storeroom while Doyle was distracted searching for my bracelet and no one would be any the wiser. Then I could innocently ask him once again if he’d seen the key at all. The thought that technically the key was mine did cross my mind, but that was a conversation I’d have when needed.
But first I needed to find what secrets it could unlock.
Pulling up outside the farmhouse, I felt my blood pressure return to normal and I smiled. I think that had a lot to do with Clifford bounding toward my car, using my headlights to guide his way. I got out and gave him a pat, wondering why I’d never owned a dog before, because one thing I knew for certain was that I had never had a boyfriend this happy to see me every time I came home.
“Hey gorgeous. Did you miss me?” I asked, roughing up his fur.
He didn’t respond, but I took his wagging tail for a yes.
Once inside I started flipping light switches on as I made my way down the hallway, only stopping once I reached my destination.
I took a moment in Matilda’s room, just standing at the end of her bed and looking around me. I knew that one day I would have to do something with her belongings, but it still felt too soon.
“Matilda, can you please give me some idea as to what this key is for? I know it’s important. I just don’t know why,” I called, pulling the chain from beneath the collar of my dress. Not that long ago I would have been freaked by the idea of talking to a ghost, but now I needed her.
The coolness in the room had now gone and was replaced with the warm evening air, but it was still, the silence only broken by the sound of the cicadas as they played their night time song.
Clifford joined me as I started my search at Matilda’s dressing table. When that came up with nothing, I moved to the wardrobe, scurrying through box after box, searching for a lock which belonged to the key. From the size of the key, it wouldn’t be a large lock and my first thoughts were it might have belonged to a jewelry box. But I found nothing. No diaries, no jewelry boxes and no hidden locks.
I sighed as perspiration dripped down my neck and I pushed the window open. The full moon was now high in the sky bathing the landscape in its soft glow and I enjoyed the rush of cool air as I watched the trees sway.
The workers hut came into my view. That was another job I needed to do. One day soon, I’d have to clean all of Matilda’s things out of the hut. Things she had loved enough to not throw away. How would I decide what to do with it all?
Hang on a minute. Matilda had loved that stuff enough to have kept it. Could whatever the key belonged to be in there? Surely if the key was valuable enough for her to have kept it on a chain, then whatever it opened should have been valuable enough to have kept too. And hiding whatever the special thing was in the worker’s hut would have been a perfect way for Matilda to keep it away from prying eyes of anyone who may have been looking.
My skin prickled with excitement as I ran to the kitchen, found a torch and made my way into the moonlight.
The workers hut looked creepy from the outside, and I quickly made a pact with myself that if the lights didn’t work then I would get up early and start my search when the sun was shining.
The three front steps groaned as I put my weight on them, and the building swayed just a little.
Taking a deep breath, I stopped at the door and pushed it open, my torch illuminating a path to the light switch. I flipped it and the dim overhead bulb lit the room, showing me the mountains of furniture, boxes and suitcases Matilda had stacked neatly in rows around the edge of the room. Spiders had spun their webs, decorating the scene and giving it a Halloween feel. The stench of dead rodents and possum poop clogged my sinuses, and a cast-off snake skin hung from the exposed rafters.
I shivered and seriously considered scampering back to the main house. But the mystery of what the key belonged to niggled me forward, so I pushed the door open to allow the breeze to dilute the smell, and tackled the task ahead of me.
If you ever want to know someone, like really know them, go through their stored possessions.
In the last hour I’d learned more about Matilda than I had in the entire time I’d lived here. I now knew she was a bit of a hoarder. A neat hoarder, but one just the same. I found a stack of newspapers dated from the end of the second world war up to just prior to her death. I flicked through a couple of them and discovered that in 1943 Lester Montgomery was the mayor. In 1944 he was a big wig in the local grain growers’ industry, and the front page of the Littlebrook News showed a photo of him with his wife and kids standing outside the Littlebrook railway station on the day it opened.
Matilda certainly seemed to have an obsession with him, and it made me curious as to why. From the photo I could tell he was reasonably good looking, an air of confidence surrounding him, but other than that there was nothing remarkable about his looks. He definitely wasn’t in Noah’s league that was for sure.
Pushing the papers to one side I sliced open the tape holding a box closed (I’d earlier found some cutlery which had come in very handy).
Inside were more newspapers, only this time they were used to wrap a china tea set. The teapot was in perfect condition, the painted purple wisteria wound its way toward its spout, giving it a whimsical look. I put it to one side and hurriedly searched the rest of the box’s contents finding the rest of the tea set to match it.
I wondered why Matilda had kept such a treasure out here, and decided this was something I wanted in the house. Carefully repacking it, I moved the box outside to the bottom of the steps, ready to take home when I left.
Outside, a soft glow of light came from the McKenzie’s home. I took a few deep breaths of fresh air and watched for a few moments wondering what Noah was doing at this present moment. His bedroom light was out, but his Ute was in the carport, so I figured he might be in the lounge watching TV. I made a mental note to call him when I got back to the house to tell him I was home, then I turned to head back in to the abyss to find what this key belonged to.
As I turned, a movement near Goatie’s paddock caught my attention and I thought I saw someone moving. Nerves jingling, I squinted toward the fence. Goatie was quiet and the movement had stopped.
“Noah, is that you?” I called, my voice echoing in the still night.
The cicadas stopped chirping and silence surrounded me. When no one returned my call, I shook myself, chastising my imagination, and headed back into the hut.
The stacks of newspapers and piles of discarded paperwork everywhere I looked were a bit overwhelming but I pressed on, moving bundles of wrapped paperwork marked tax returns dated from 1988 to 1999. Underneath them, another layer of treasure revealed itself, and this time my heart danced to a different beat. For there, sitting in amongst the cardboard boxes and stacked dining room chairs, was a small carved chest.
With a lock.
Excitement pounded through my veins as I frantically pulled the detritus away, clawing my way toward the box. I wasn’t a fan of spiders, but I ignored the cobwebs and lifted my prize toward me.
The chest wasn’t overly large but it was reasonably heavy, so I cleared a spot in front of it and sat on the dirty timber floor. The chain was warm in my hand as I pulled it from my neck, smoothing the dust from the carved camphor wood as I did so. Sliding the key into place, I heard the satisfying click as the lock turned.
I was almost scared as I lifted the lid, but this was the moment I was about to learn what it was Matilda held dearest. I was about to find out what she loved.