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Twenty-six hours after receiving Claire’s call, Dan tied Dreamspeaker to the float at the Port McNeill marina. He hadn’t slept, and other than a cup of cold coffee and a package of dry crackers, he hadn’t eaten. She was coming home. Waru had driven her to Darwin and put her on a plane to Sydney, and she was booked on a flight to Vancouver arriving the following day. He was going to be there to meet her.
He had spent his time at the helm fighting the sea and trying to figure out exactly what he had said or done that could have triggered the sabotage of her boat. Harbinson had to have been involved. Dan hadn’t mentioned Snake Island to anyone else, and he had told him he had a friend working near there. It wouldn’t have been hard for the commander of the Northern Territory Regional Police to find out who that friend was.
But Claire didn’t pose a threat to Harbinson— or to Dahonney for that matter—so why sink her boat? It had to have been a message, a warning intended for him just as the sabotage to the Zodiac had been. And in both cases that warning had come with at least the possibility of death. They might have taken care to ensure Claire was not aboard when they planted the explosives—although he was far from sure of that—but whoever had put sand in his gas tank had certainly known the risk. Maybe had even hoped for the worst.
***
HIS CALL TO THE NATIONAL Contact Bureau in Vancouver lasted well over an hour and resulted in them re-routing the RCMP plane to Port McNeill to pick him up. He used the two hours before its arrival to grab some much needed sleep, used the roar of its prop as his alarm, and climbed eagerly aboard without a single tremor of apprehension.
“We can’t bypass Harbinson. He’s our official liaison for the area. Everything goes through his office.”
Dan had already given the group all the details of his trip to Darwin and Wurrumiyanga
and now he told them about his visit to Porcher Island and the subsequent engine failure on the Zodiac. He knew he had convinced them that his suspicions were worth following up, but now they seemed to have reached a stalemate.
“How about the aboriginal police?” he asked. “They’re the ones on the ground where we need them.”
“Not possible. They don’t have the authority, and besides, it’s Harbinson who commands them. We would have to go through him.”
“Shit.” Dan ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He hadn’t had it cut for months and he hadn’t combed it since Claire had called. He hadn’t even shaved for three days and the scar that ran over his cheekbone was stretched tight against his skin. He probably looked like a criminal himself but he didn’t care. “Surely there’s something you can do.”
“We can arrange satellite surveillance on both places.” It was the commander speaking. “That will keep track of the helicopters and any unusual activity, and meanwhile we’ll get the federal guys over there to start an internal investigation into Harbinson.”
“How about here? Anything you can do to identify who’s helping them at this end?”
“How? Until we know where the stuff ends up there’s nothing to check. The last theft was over a week ago. If those masks were shipped anywhere, they would have already gone, and we can’t start checking the bank accounts of every cop and customs agent unless we can provide a good reason.”
They were right, and it was the best he was going to get. He needed proof, not conjecture, and right now that probably meant waiting for another theft to occur. He could only hope that didn’t also mean another murder.
***
HE FOUND A HOTEL NEAR the airport and slept for another couple of hours before meeting Bryce for dinner.
“You look like shit,” Bryce said as they headed into the dining room. “You working undercover?”
“No,” Dan laughed. “Just haven’t had time to clean up.”
“Must be something important. What does your lady think of it? I can’t imagine she would be too happy with the look.”
“She’s been in Australia for the last couple of months. I’m picking her up here at the airport tomorrow. She’s pretty easy going.”
Dan planned on going to a barbershop before Claire’s plane arrived. The shave would be welcome but he had yet to decide about a haircut. Barbershops were few and far between on the coast and a ponytail or braid might make more sense. It might even make it easier to connect with the people in the villages just like wearing jeans did—although he wasn’t sure he wanted to give Walker such a good opportunity to practice his unique blend of humour and sarcasm.
On the other hand, he needed to find a way to convince Claire to stay with him onboard his boat, at least for the short term, and if she came with him to any of the villages that shock of blonde hair would hardly blend in.
He couldn’t let her stay ashore. These people, whoever they were, had already proved they would stop at nothing and until this case was wrapped up he needed to keep her close, both for her sake and his.
She was one of the last to exit the big jet, and seeing her looking so shaken and wan broke Dan’s heart. The exuberant, confident, outgoing woman he loved seemed somehow diminished, and he vowed once again that he would find whoever was doing this and put them behind bars.
They stayed in Vancouver overnight then flew back to Port McNeill the following morning. Claire was quiet, offering little about what had happened, and Dan didn’t press her. She would talk about it when she was ready and meanwhile she obviously needed sleep.
It was on the second day, after he had spent the morning with Markleson and brought back a lunch of grilled halibut and steamed vegetables, that she told him what had happened. She and Waru had been on the beach, coming back from buying supplies in town, when there had been an explosion and the boat had simply disappeared under the water.
“It almost sounded like someone beating a huge drum,” she said. “ A kind of whump. Sort of dull and deadened. Not like a big eruption with a loud bang and sparks and flames. Nothing flew up into the air. The boat just kind of broke apart and . . . sank.”
“And you didn’t see anyone else on the beach?”
“No. It was completely empty. Almost surreal. Even the birds were quiet. It took me a while to understand what had happened.”
He felt her shiver and pulled her close, his anger surging.
“I need to talk to Waru and warn him,” he said. “Ask him to keep an eye out for that helicopter. I don’t suppose you saw it did you?”
She looked at him in confusion. “The helicopter? You mean the one from Snake Island? No. Like I told you it was totally quiet. No people. No movement. No sound except that weird boom, although . . . “ She paused, a thoughtful look on her face.
“Although what?”
She looked at him. “Now that you mention it I did see it earlier, before I went into town, but I only got a glimpse of it. It was flying really low, and then it disappeared. I think it must have landed on the island.” A worried frown wrinkled her forehead. “Why are you asking? Do you think it’s somehow connected to what happened?”
He didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was, but he couldn’t lie to her, and if he was going to keep her safe, she needed to know the truth.
“Yes,” he said. “I do. And I think it’s connected to what’s happening here as well.” And he told her about the engine on the Zodiac quitting.
She looked at him in horror. “You could have died!”
He nodded. “Yes, I could. And maybe they hoped that would happen. Or maybe they figured I’d be picked up. I don’t know, but either way it was a risk. And it was the same with you. Did they know that charge would go off when you were ashore?” He saw her close her eyes and shudder and he reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m not trying to scare you, but we need to be careful. These are dangerous people, and they obviously think I’m a threat.”
Her eyes were wide and much darker than usual as she stared at him. “You think they’ll try again.”
“Could be.” He pulled her into his side. “It’s you I’m worried about.” He ran his fingers through her hair. She’d cut it very short before she left for Australia, but hadn’t cut it since and it was starting to curl again, turning into the tangled mop he loved. “I need you to stay aboard with me. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”
She didn’t say anything for several long moments and then he saw her eyes turn to look out over the breakwater to where a flock of gulls sat preening themselves.
“You mean not go back to work. Not take up another contract until this is over. Just sit on the boat.” It was a statement rather than a question but he answered her anyway.
“Yes,” he said. “But you wouldn’t be just sitting. You could help me. And we could maybe catch them quicker that way.”
The idea had come to him during the night while he was lying beside her, watching her breathe, thinking about how close he had come to losing her, thinking about how he would find whoever was doing this and make sure they never did it again. How they would never murder another son, or brother, or husband. How they would never steal another treasured piece of family regalia.
“You’re a researcher,” he said. “You can help me figure out what’s going on.”