Alicia woke the next morning, feeling groggy and out of sorts. She had not slept well. Strange, violent noises kept interrupting her slumber—creaking and scuttling and what she could only assume were flying foxes screeching outside. Whoever said the country was quiet must have been wearing earplugs.
It didn’t help that the rockfall kept playing over in her mind, the way that boulder came rushing towards them, the way that stranger stood watching silently from above. Not so much as a friendly wave or a bellowed apology.
In Alicia’s dreams it wasn’t Simon standing up there. It was someone else entirely. A shadowy figure with a dark face and a floppy white hat on. It was little wonder then that she was filled with relief when her alarm finally gave her permission to get up.
After a cool, sobering shower, she dressed in casual gear, grabbed her room key and headed to the dining room, where she found most of the group already gathered, now in groups of three at various tables. The only ones missing were Blake and Lynette, and as she sat down beside Perry, Alicia found her mind straying again, this time into X-rated territory.
Surely they hadn’t hooked up?
The group had been exhausted by the time the three-course meal was done and had all decided on an early night.
Or had they?
She tried to think back. Alicia had nicked into the library before bed, but Lynette wasn’t with her. Had she gone straight to her room? Or had she remained in the restaurant for another glass of vino, a handsome newcomer at her table?
“Hey, sis, you don’t look like you got much sleep!” said Lynette, dropping into a chair beside her while Perry was helping himself to the buffet.
Blake was not trailing Lynette, and Alicia took that as a good sign. She said, “What about you?”
“Slept like a baby. Although speaking of which, I miss our pooch! Max would love it up here. Such a pity we couldn’t bring him.”
“It is a national park, Lynette,” Perry said, dropping a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. “Get in there, girls, it all looks delicious!”
Lynette studied the eggs on his plate and must have liked what she’d seen, because she promptly jumped up to help herself to the cooked breakfast.
Alicia stuck to the pastries, her stomach still unsettled, then reached for her empty cup as Mrs Flannery appeared from the swinging kitchen doors with a pot of fresh coffee. By the time she reached Alicia’s table, however, the pot was empty, and Mrs Flannery glared at it like it was its own damn fault and then strode back into the kitchen. When she returned, she had a platter of fruit but no coffee, and Alicia hid her disappointment as she turned to Perry.
“How did you sleep?”
“I always sleep well, honey,” he said, although it was a lie this time.
It wasn’t the noises that had kept him up, it was the name Westera that was playing like a loop in his head. Now why was Ronnie’s name so familiar…
It was just as Perry was finally drifting off that he remembered. He was right! It had nothing to do with Balmain and the moonlight cinema. The way Ronnie spoke of the old Hunting Lodge, the incongruity of her dress sense, it finally dawned on him—she was one of the Museum’s biggest benefactors! Or at least her family was. He was sure of it.
He’d spent the next hour tossing and turning, trying to recall the name of her husband and how they’d made all their dough. Pharmaceuticals was it? Or something to do with mining? In any case, Ronnie came from serious wealth, the kind that left you gasping. Only last year she’d donated a cheque for close to a million dollars.
He glanced across at Ronnie seated at her own table and noticed the simple cotton blouse, beige pleated trousers, the slightly scuffed sandals, and couldn’t help smiling. She might dress like an ordinary granny, but she was the richest person in the room by a long shot.
Was she deliberately hiding her background, he wondered? Did it even matter?
“Morning guys!” came a booming voice from the front door, and they all swept around to find Blake standing there, walking shoes on, a camera around his neck. “I’ve already done the four-kilometre return trek. How about you?”
“Oh, stop showing off, laddie!” Flo called out, and Blake chuckled as he made his way across the room to inspect the buffet.
He leaned down and back. “Not bad,” he said to no one in particular. Then, catching sight of Mrs Flannery, he added, “I’m going to need a cup of coffee, thanks, Mrs Flannery. Quick as you can.”
As she nodded vaguely and returned to the kitchen to get the pot, Perry turned back to the sisters and said, “You’d think Blake owned the place, the way he swans about, roaring up in his fancy car and ordering the staff about.”
“What staff?” said Alicia. “There’s barely anyone here. I think poor Mrs Flannery is flying solo this morning.”
“You’re just jealous, Perry,” was Lynette’s take. “I like a confident, athletic man myself.”
“That’ll make a change from the dithery fools you usually date,” Perry retorted, and they began flicking napkins at each other until Alicia’s low growl stopped them, as it usually did.
“Besides, Vale’s probably catching up on his beauty sleep,” Lynette said. “He was up very late last night.”
“How do you know?” asked Alicia.
“Oh, I’m just assuming…,” said Lynette as her eyes slid sideways.
~
As Mrs Flannery returned to the kitchen, she was swearing under her breath but not at the bossy guest.
Where the blazes was Vale?
He was usually a lot more helpful than this. Cooking might be her domain, but he always stepped in when she needed it. Was never above that. She frowned as she checked the brewing coffee. The mysterious guest must have thrown him off-kilter, and she couldn’t blame him for that. They’d both been out of sorts of late. Ever since the place had gone up for sale. It had put everyone in a lather.
She exhaled. No point worrying about that now. Perhaps Vale needed a decent sleep-in. She could do with a rest herself. She’d been dropping the ball a lot lately, was beginning to let things slide. Couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to collect the mail yesterday! She blamed the early train for that. It threw her schedule out completely, and now she had no choice but to make the windy drive back to town. She was expecting an important letter, hoping for one at least. Vale might want to go down with the sinking ship, but she had plans. Grand plans, and they did not involve Lyle and his blasted lodge. Not anymore.
The sooner it was all over the better.
Straightening her apron, Mrs Flannery pulled the coffee from the percolator, wedged her lips into something resembling a smile, and then returned to the dining room.
~
Simon stood and nodded goodbye to his fellow diners, Flo and Ronnie, who, like him, were also up early and first to take in breakfast—not that Flo had consumed much, just a cup of something and a piece of buttery toast. What they didn’t know was that he had been up for hours, wandering the premises, getting all his ducks lined up.
He didn’t get caught this time though. He had seen to that. Stretching, he glanced across the dining room and tried not to stare.
Be cool, he told himself. All good things come to those who wait.
~
As Missy nattered on about her fabulous new apartment and the “killer deal” she got on what sounded to Blake like a cheap and nasty sofa, he glanced across to Lynette and tried to catch her eye. There was no room at her table, but he had enjoyed their digestif last night.
Soon after dinner was done, as everybody else scattered like Cinderella before midnight, he found his way to the tiny bar and was delighted when Lynette promptly joined him. It was a poky room, with a door leading into the corridor and another into the dining, and it was darker and dingier than his usual drinking holes, but the wine selection was good, and he poured them both a giant glass of cabernet sauvignon while Lynette began jotting their names into the small notepad provided.
“I guess they charge us at the end,” she said, but he had tsked at that.
Blake hadn’t wanted to jot anything down—“They’ll never know!”—but Lynette proved to be more vanilla than he’d anticipated and insisted they account for the bottle they ended up consuming. He was suggesting they grab another when they heard a creak in the corridor outside and then spotted Vale striding in the direction of the lobby. He had a bag in his hands and a grim look on his face.
A few minutes later they heard the entrance door open and then close again.
Lynette had pondered where the manager was heading at that time of night, but Blake already had a pretty good idea. And the kernel of a plan.
Feigning a yawn, he said, “On second thoughts, I think I’m gonna head to bed,” and he was sure he’d seen a glint of disappointment in the beautiful blonde’s eyes.
He sniggered. Business first, then there would be time for pleasure.
“Tell us more about the guy who perished in the fire!” said Missy now, her voice rising to break through Blake’s reverie. “The one you were talking about last night, the hunting chap!”
Blake looked up just as a cup clattered loudly to its saucer near the buffet table. His eyes darted towards it, but it wasn’t Lynette he was looking at now, it was someone else entirely. They were mopping away spilt coffee, blushing and frowning and trying to look blasé.
But that blush suggested otherwise.
Blake’s eyes narrowed further as his brain ticked over and he began to do the maths…