Tonight was important. One of those pivotal moments in a man’s life. Bradley had worked hard all his life, from paperboy at ten to pulling all night shifts in fast food outlets to pay his way through university. Then at the age of twenty-one he’d got a taste for money after success at the casino one incredible day. While his mates lost all their money, somehow he went home with twenty grand. And he was smart enough never to gamble again. Not that kind of gambling. He studied calculated risks and loved the rush when a plan worked out against the odds.
We’re so close.
Everything was ready.
Bradley walked through the warehouse for the third time in the hour since the workers left. The hired van was locked inside the building and the roller door down. Abel was checking something on the roof of the shipping container, tapping away at some part he wasn’t quite satisfied with but that was how the man rolled. Always a perfectionist.
He fancied an early drink to celebrate and poured a double in his office. On his desk, he’d piled up several framed photos of David to give to Melanie.
‘Cheers, mate. If only you were here to see this day.’ He raised the glass to David’s image and drank quickly. He’d kept his grief at bay by staying busy and looking after Carla but sooner or later, it would catch up.
Beside the photos was a large white envelope, part of his to-do-list for later this evening. He had time between now and midnight to visit Vince and be back in plenty of time to oversee their first joint shipment with Duncan Chandler safely leave on its inaugural journey to Far North Queensland. A long road trip to a beautiful part of the country.
‘Hey boss. The container is one hundred percent ready to go. All we need now is the final cargo and the truck.’ Abel leaned against the door frame. ‘I might go and eat. Been a crap day thanks to stupid coppers. Bit of a feed and I’ll be back before the truck arrives.’
‘You never said what they wanted.’
‘No idea except them banging on about me catching up with Richard the other night.’ He laughed. ‘Idiots have no idea.’
‘Well, go eat. I’m heading up to Carter’s. Have some stuff to fix.’
His phone rang and when he saw the number, he held his hand up to Abel.
One minute later, he slammed the phone on top of the envelope.
‘What?’ Abel hadn’t moved.
‘Their driver is down with a stomach bug. They’ve pushed it out another twenty-four hours.’
Abel swore.
‘I know.’ Bradley slumped on his chair and dropped his head onto his hands. ‘Damn, damn, dammit.’
‘It has to be tonight, boss.’
Bradley’s head flew up. ‘Then you find a truck and drive the container there yourself!’ He stood so fast his chair flew back. ‘I’ve knocked myself out making this happen. Extra payments. Bonuses. Pleading. There is no tonight!’
‘Don’t yell at me. I’m as frustrated as you are.’
Abel hadn’t moved but he’d calmed down much faster than Bradley.
Forcing his tone back to normal, Bradley pushed the chair back to its normal spot. ‘What the hell are you going to tell him?’
The laugh from Abel sent a shiver down Bradley’s spine.
‘Me?’
Sweeping up the envelope, phone, and photographs, Bradley stalked to the door. Abel still didn’t move.
‘You. And make it good. I’m tired of looking incompetent thanks to the actions of other parties. This business funds both our lifestyles and this mess is risking that lifestyle getting a massive, long term, injection of cash.’
Abel raised both eyebrows and stepped aside. ‘If this cargo doesn’t get moved soon it’ll be more than our lifestyle at risk.’
He wasn’t wrong.
‘Just make the call. Then take the night off.’ Not waiting for further debate, Bradley crossed the warehouse. At the side door he glanced back. Abel was at the container, leaning against it as he dialled his phone.
Lyndall had arrived with the kitten late in the afternoon, refusing a cup of coffee with an excuse about making sure mother cat wasn’t too upset. She’d avoided being drawn back into the earlier conversation when she’d begun to warn Vince about keeping Melanie close, leaving almost as quickly as she came.
Now, as Melanie ran through the laws of the cottage with Robbie, a knock on the front door drew Vince away from the dinner he was preparing.
On his way to open it, he glanced into Melanie’s room where she lay on her stomach, solemnly talking in a soft voice to Robbie, who sat listening. He couldn’t help smiling.
Until he opened the door.
Bradley stood on the verandah.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Got those photographs for Melanie.’
‘Said I’d collect them.’
‘Well, I need a quick chat so brought them with me. Here.’ Bradley handed over a clear bag with loose photographs. The man was cagey. He didn’t meet Vince’s eyes and moved from one foot to another.
‘I’m in the middle of something,’ Vince said.
‘One question then I’ll go. Carla and I would like to make a legal arrangement with you for custody, at least partial, of Melanie.’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Come on, mate. At least hear me out.’
‘Time for you to go.’
Instead of moving, Bradley held out a large envelope and this time, he met Vince’s eyes. ‘Pity you feel that way. You should take a look.’
Vince glanced over his shoulder and stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind himself. ‘What the hell is this, Pickering?’
‘Open it.’
Although he knew he should go inside and lock the other man out, Vince couldn’t help himself. Within the envelope was a folder about half an inch thick. He flicked through, his stomach churning more with every page.
There were photographs of his property looking desolate and neglected.
A close up of hundreds of empty wine and spirits bottles piled up behind a shed.
Carcasses of dead rabbits near warren entrances, bullet holes riddling them.
‘You know these bottles aren’t mine.’
‘The place is run down. Unsuitable for a child.’ Bradley had a tone in his voice. A challenge.
‘I don’t go around shooting rabbits for fun and I’d never keep a gun near a child.’ Beneath the last photograph was a typed letter signed ‘Susan Weaver’.
Phrases stood out.
I had to throw Dad out again.
He was drunk and getting violent.
I’d never trust him with my child.
He wasn’t a hero at home.
‘That’s not Susie’s signature,’ Vince said.
‘Near enough.’
‘Is this blackmail?’
Bradley grinned, cocky. ‘Nothing like it. It is a friendly look at what might happen if you let things continue on. None of it is necessary and that folder and its copies need never be seen by another soul.’
He wanted to grab the slimy bastard by the throat. But Melanie was in the house, and he wasn’t about to give the creep the satisfaction.
‘What do you want?’
‘Only what David and Susie would have expected. For Melanie to live with us. And for David’s share of the company to transfer to me without any issues.’
Vince stuffed the folder back into the envelope.
‘Melanie loves us. And Carla lives for Mel, would do anything for her. She’ll have a good life with every advantage,’ Bradley said.
‘A good life with a criminal in the house?’
‘Well that’s just rude. I’m offering a peaceful arrangement. You’ll be able to see her, but you need to let the appropriate people know you want us to adopt her.’
‘Over my dead body.’ Vince held out the envelope.
‘Keep it. What’s your answer?’
‘You have thirty seconds to leave my property. Twenty-nine—’
‘You fool.’
‘Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven.’
‘Stop! For Melanie’s sake think this through!’
Vince closed in on Bradley, who shrank back.
‘You are destroying her future—’
‘Twenty-six. Run.’ He followed Bradley who half fell, half slid down the steps. ‘You ever step foot on this property again…
Bradley was running.
Vince took half a dozen strides after him, watching to make sure the man was in his car and driving off before turning back.
The living room curtain moved.
Melanie was using the bathroom when he got back inside which gave him time to toss the offending envelope into his bedroom. He checked the oven and slid the dish onto a rack. His heart gradually returned to its normal beat, but his head was spinning with thoughts of what he’d like to do to Bradley. Bad thoughts.
Had Melanie overheard any of the conversation or just looked out the window as Bradley left the property? He headed for her bedroom.
She lay on her back on the floor with the kitten on her chest.
‘Uncle Brad was so much fun before. He used to tell the funniest stories.’
Vince stayed in the hallway.
‘And Auntie Carla is still the same as always and I love doing stuff with her. But Robbie? Uncle Brad got so cross that terrible night at Daddy and now he’s cross with Grandad… I hope he never comes here to our house again, Robbie.’
Somehow Vince stopped himself from going in and picking up the little girl and telling her he’d never allow anything bad to happen. Would it help? She didn’t sound teary or worried. Matter-of-fact if anything. And if she thought he listened in on her conversations then she might be less willing to air them, even if only to a cat. Anyway, how could he promise such a thing?
He went back to the kitchen and dialled his phone.
‘Lizzie? It’s Vince. Call me back when you can. And would you check this rego for me…’ he pulled the piece of paper out Lyndall gave him earlier and read it off.
Bradley let himself into the house, fuming. On the drive back he’d come up with a dozen ways to kill Carter and discarded them all. He wasn’t that kind of person.
But I’ve had a gut-full of high and mighty Carter.
The living room lights were on but Carla was elsewhere in the house, so he poured a brandy and paced, trying to clear his head and dilute the anger. Any other person would have folded with the damning evidence he’d collected. Didn’t matter that some of it was fake. There was enough truth to make someone fear their secrets were about to be shown to the world. And Vince Carter had plenty of those. The pile of bottles might not be from his property, but everyone knew the man had a drinking problem. The place was a dump and if child services went visiting they’d surely question its suitability for a child to live in. Which might be worth suggesting to that frumpy woman who’d done nothing to help last time.
‘Honey?’
‘In the living room.’
He held up a second glass as she came in. ‘Brandy?’
‘Oh, sure.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘I didn’t hear you drive in but thought I heard a voice.’
‘Probably talking to myself. There you go. Cheers.’
‘Cheers. To Melanie.’
‘Yeah. Always to our little Melanie.’
Carla tilted her head in question.
Damn Vince.
‘What’s for dinner, baby?’
‘Brad… when is Melanie coming?’
He took her spare hand.
‘You did see Vince? Explain that we will make sure he gets to see her often and how wonderful her life will be…’
‘He refuses to listen, Carla. I’m sorry. I tried so hard.’
‘Then I’ll go and speak with him.’
‘It’s worse than him not listening, baby. He said he doesn’t want us seeing her anymore.’
Carla gasped and the glass in her hand shook.
‘But I have an idea. I’m going to speak to the lawyer again and ask how we report the poor conditions Melanie lives in. This battle has only just begun. I promise.’ He kissed her fingers, but her eyes shone with tears and she gently withdrew her hand.
‘I… I might check dinner.’
He’d stuffed up. He should have thought this through before coming home so she had hope. The muffled sound of his wife crying from the kitchen stabbed into him.
After dinner, Melanie helped wash up and then read for a while on the beanbag with the kitten on her lap. It was still early when she changed for bed. She looked exhausted.
‘Seems as if Robbie likes it here.’ Vince brought a cup of hot chocolate into her bedroom. ‘Do you think he’ll sleep all night?’
Melanie took the cup with a soft ‘thank you’ and sat on the side of her bed. Robbie was curled up in his bed beside hers, his tiny paws twitching in a dream. It was easier to take a good look at him now he was still. He was mostly black with white tips on his nose and feet.
‘Do you like him?’ She whispered. ‘We need to be very quiet and not disturb him.’
‘Of course I like him,’ he whispered in return. ‘He makes you smile. I like that a lot.’
‘I love him, Grandad. Thank you.’
And I love you, sweetheart.
‘Shall we read?’
‘Too noisy. He’s a baby and has to sleep.’
‘Fair enough. Would you like me to turn off the overhead light then?’
‘Yes please. And can you close the door because that way he won’t get lost if he wakes up early.’
She let him kiss her forehead and then he made a show of creeping out, hoping for a smile. It eventually came but Melanie’s earlier joy had been quelched by whatever she’d seen between Vince and Bradley.
And I’m to blame for that.
There were a hundred ways, or at least a handful, he should have managed the other man’s visit. As satisfying as sending him off had been, it wasn’t worth the fallout.
He collected the envelope from his bedroom and tossed it onto the coffee table in the living room. After turning off most of the lights in the cottage, he got a bottle of whisky from a top cupboard and a glass and wandered back to the sofa. Headlights flicked on the wall and his heart missed a beat. But it was just someone using the driveway to turn in.
For a few minutes he watched to be certain. That car had gone, but another cruised past slowly. His nerves were getting the better of him. He pulled the curtains across and sat by the flickering light from the fireplace.
He poured a drink but didn’t touch it, instead, opening the envelope.
His phone beeped.
Liz.
He tapped back.
Before he’d put the phone down, another beep.
Vince gazed at the glass. Then replied.
He turned the phone off.