Home to Eden (19 page)

Nicole shook her head vigorously. “Don't do that, Siggy. You'll be exposing me. In any case, Joel doesn't have to explain himself. If you went to him, it would get his back up.”

Siggy gave a bark of a laugh. “Joel has a very nasty habit of always getting his back up. He has a chip on his shoulder as big as Ayer's Rock. What's your problem, anyway? You always were a little snoop.”

“Make that
sleuth
if you don't mind. All the secrets in the family made my life hard. What I want to know is, what does it all mean?”

“Why ask me?” Siggy said forlornly. “The older I get the less I know. At a guess I'd say nothing.”

“You're not so dumb, Siggy.” Nicole studied her aunt with affection.

“Thank you.” Siggy gave her a ghost of a smile. “Tell me again when these visits took place.”

Nicole leaned closer. “The last not long before Dr. Rosendahl was killed. The first possibly a year before that.”

“And we never knew?” Siggy looked deeply troubled.

“What did you think he was doing when he took himself off to Sydney or wherever he said he went?”

“Drawing on my knowledge of the world and my limited knowledge of men, I had the feeling it had to be sex. Women. Parties, dates, whatever. Think about it. It's pretty tame out here. There are plenty of pretty girls in Sydney. He's single, he's good-looking, he's got money. I figured he was having himself a good time.”

“It's possible he was.” Nicole nodded. “But there must have been something very pressing on his mind to seek out Dr. Rosendahl.”

“Well, he did something right.” Siggy's tone was laconic.

“So why deny it?”

“
I
would.” Siggy drained her coffee and grimaced, although it had been particularly good. “If I chose to see a shrink, I'd keep my big fat mouth shut. Just like if I chose to hire a private detective.”

“And have you?” Nicole asked, thinking this wasn't just Siggy being Siggy but somehow connected.

Siggy laughed harshly. “That, my dear, is a long dirty story.”

“If you were checking up on your dear husband when he's away on his jaunts, I could understand it.”

“I told you—my lips are sealed. You can't possibly think Joel might have had something to do with Rosendahl's death, do you?”

Nicole stared at her. “Now,
there's
a bizarre idea! Are you saying he was in Sydney at that time?”

“I only said it because he has an alibi.” Siggy slapped at a lone fly that had had the temerity to breach the gauzed door. “And it would save you time.”

“Has he really got an alibi?” Nicole looked at her aunt hard.

“Can you hear the two of us?” Siggy said evasively. “Can you hear what we're saying? What's happened to you, Nikki?”

“I haven't lost my mind, if that's what you think.”

“Well, that's a lucky break.” Siggy touched two fingers to her aching eyes.

“Something very bad happened here on Eden all those years ago, Siggy. Two people died. My mother—your sister—and David McClelland. I don't think they drove off the escarpment into Shadow Valley. I think they were forced off.”

“No.” Siggy made a low despairing sound.

“Yes, Siggy. The worst part of it is, it was someone we know.”

“Then it was Heath.” Siggy raised her head. “Who else? He was a violent man. Corrinne was unfaithful, making a fool of him. Heath is the only one who makes sense.”

“I wouldn't say that. Wasn't my mother planning on sending Joel away?”

Siggy leaped to her feet. “Be careful, girl,” she warned, head shaking slightly as in the early stages of Parkinson's. “Joel and I may not be great pals, but he is my son. My son. Do you understand what that means? Of course you don't!”

“Siggy, calm down. I'm sorry if I shocked you.
Let's leave Joel out of this. What about Alan? You said yourself he was in love with my mother.”

Siggy snorted. No angry display of emotion for her husband. “Alan can't do anything more strenuous than crack his knuckles. Forget Alan. What about that kook, Callista? I'd jump out of my skin if she clamped her tiny hand on my shoulder. Or some other nutcase in the area? Someone who spent the last ten years in jail and felt like pushing the Land Cruiser off the cliff for spoiling his view. Nothing's too dreadful for a psychopath. No, Nikki, we'll never make sense of it. It was either a tragic accident or they decided to end their lives together. This family is cursed.”

“I don't accept that.”

“I do,” Siggy muttered, looking utterly convinced.

“Then we better start fighting our way out of it. Justice has to be done.”

Siggy leaned her hands on the table. “Even in the event you find some member of your family is a murderer? Come off it, girl!”

“Are you saying you'd let them go free?”

Siggy stiffened. “My overriding concern is for family. You're opening up not a whole can of worms, but venomous snakes. It's safer to put it all behind us.”

Nicole, too, rose to her feet. “I don't like your moral reasoning, Siggy. Murder is murder. You might be able to allow a murderer to go free, but I can't. It's a little problem I have.”

“Sorry, you're stuck with it,” Siggy said brutally. “I can promise you your grandfather left no stone unturned. He had people all over checking.”

“Maybe they were looking in the wrong place.”
Nicole gazed hard at her aunt. “You sound frightened, Siggy.”

“Does that surprise you?” Siggy's tone was as sharp as a whiplash.

It didn't faze Nicole. “Someone murdered my mother and David McClelland,” she responded in a low grave voice. “You've got to help me find out who.”

Siggy reached out to touch her niece's shoulder. “As long as you don't intend to start on me,” she said with black humor. “The authorities are the right people to catch criminals, Nikki.”

“I know.” Nicole nodded. “The only trouble is, the authorities believe the case is closed.”

“And it will stay closed until you have something new to offer. Which you don't.” Her movements oddly stiff, Siggy walked to the door, bringing the conversation to a halt.

 

L
ATER IN THE DAY
Nicole received a call from Shelley Logan telling her the maid of honor she had chosen for her wedding, Jody Mitchell—Nicole knew her slightly—had had a bad fall in a three-day cross-country event, breaking her leg and collarbone. Would Nicole, Shelley wondered, consider taking over the role?

Nicole, although sorry for Jody's bad luck, was delighted to accept—but expressed concern about the bridesmaid's dress. As far as she could recall, Jody was rather short, with an entirely different sort of figure from her own.

“The color will suit you beautifully,” Shelley said. “Lilac satin, but we'll have to start from scratch with
your gown. You're taller and a lot more willowy than Jody who's sturdily built. If you'll e-mail me your precise measurements, I'll give them to my dressmaker. The gown is strapless, the bodice tapering to a deep V. It has a fitted waist and long billowing skirt.”

“But your dressmaker won't have much time.” It was less than a month to the wedding to be held on Mulgaree.

Shelley's laugh was relieved. “Don't worry, I've already checked with her. She said she could do it. She's brilliant!”

They spent a few more minutes chatting, Nicole pausing on her way out of the homestead to tell Siggy and her grandmother the news.

“How lovely, darling!” Louise smiled at her. “You'll look so beautiful!”

“Just remember not to look more beautiful than the bride,” Siggy warned in her customary wry tone.

 

N
ICOLE FOUND
H
EATH
dozing in a comfortable chair in the garden overlooking the sequined stretch of the Minareechi and the focal point of the homestead's gardens, the waterfall. Her grandfather's design, it had been constructed at the narrow end of the stream using the most striking boulders he could find on station land. Most she knew had come from Shadow Valley. It had been a huge job, requiring an irrigation system, but the result was their own private oasis, one of calm, peace and tranquillity. Easy to see why this was one of Heath's favorite spots. Balm for his tormented spirit.

Grasses and rushes, masses and masses of Japanese water iris and arum lilies grew on the verge and into
the water itself. To soften the boulders, a mini-forest had been created, using plants that would survive the dry heat; the trees that made up the canopy shaded the whole. Black swans with their scarlet bills banded in white sailed in state across the water's glassy dark green surface. They were joined by cobs and pens, a few of the pens with their white cygnets.

Siggy was right. As she approached soundlessly over the thick cushioning grass, she could see on Heath Cavanagh's face a rare look of peace. Of final acceptance. If he had a terrible stain on his soul and was getting ready to face his maker, could he really look like that?

His eyes flew open as she hovered over him. “Reen!” he cried out, not in agitation, but with so much joy it suggested only passionate gratitude she had come.

Nicole felt tears well up in her eyes. Oh, yes, he had loved her mother.

“It's me, Nicole,” she said gently, taking the garden chair beside him. “I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

“Never!” he maintained, visibly summoning up alertness and carefully sitting upright. “For a moment, with the sun behind you shining on your hair, I thought you were your mother. I thought she'd come for me. She was and remains my heart's yearning.”

“I know.” Nicole struggled to keep the emotion out of her voice. “You must have loved her very much.”

“Loved her. Hated her. In life and in death. But I never destroyed her. That would have been the most terrible desecration. Her enemy is still out there. She
used to call me a brutal man. She struggled to escape me.”

“She must have loved you once,” Nicole, torn by pity, reminded him.

“No, child. I mesmerized her. Her feelings for David McClelland became too much for her. He was her knight in shining armor. Never me. My life has been empty with her gone. I haven't cared if I lived or died. Even when I raved against her, I still loved her. But she betrayed me. I was her husband, the father of her child.”

“Would you very kindly consider this? Sleep on it if you wish.” She spoke gently, so very gently. “Would you help me by volunteering a DNA sample? Just a hair of your head.”

He laughed in genuine amusement, a rich deep sound that surprised her. “You could have pulled one just then, when I was sleeping. Or got one from my hairbrush. Lots of things you could have done.”

“I wouldn't do anything like that without your permission.” She shook her head. “I've come too late to the realization you're my father, but there's a complication. I've fallen in love with Drake McClelland.”

“Of course you have!” Abruptly he lifted a fist to the sky. “That's what this is all about. A McClelland getting square. Just as Corrinne belonged to David, you're to belong to his nephew.”

“You don't think he could love me?” she asked simply, confronted by the fact she was an heiress.

“Who wouldn't love you?” he said. “Even when you were the naughtiest little girl in the world, you used to tug at my heartstrings. Maybe there's a demon
in him, child. Demons live in men.” He gave a gust of terrible laughter.

“What do you mean?”

“You're too smart not to know, Nicole. McClelland gets you, he gets Eden.”

“That would happen whoever I marry. At least up to a point. What would you like to see happen?” She kept her eyes on him.

He rubbed at the faint stubble along his jawline. “I don't want to see anyone harm my girl in any way,” he said tautly. “And yes, you can have your DNA sample. Clear up this point once and for all. No way are you McClelland's child. No way are you Drake's cousin. You should have accepted that right away.”

“Well, I have. This is for the record.” Nicole stood up, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Is there anything I can get you? Something to eat or drink? This is a beautiful spot. Mrs. Barrett can bring the food down here. I have to meet up with the vet. He's flying in, in about ten minutes.”

Heath lifted his head, black eyes suddenly keen. “How's Joel taking the fact you're in love with Drake McClelland?”

She dropped her eyes. “I haven't told him, but I wanted you to know. You're my father.”

He smiled sadly. “Only from a short time back.”

“I'm sorry.” She knew her voice sounded highly emotional. She bent and kissed his stubbled cheek, felt the rasp. “I was in such a mess.”

“Don't think I don't blame myself for that!” He caught her hand and held it. “Between the two of us, your mother and me, we made a mess of being parents. One thing I'd like you to do for me…”

“Anything.” Nicole was acutely aware just how much they'd all missed.

“Bring McClelland to see me. He's not taking you anywhere until the two of us have a long talk.”

Nicole smiled through her tears, her heart twisting with pity for this strange flawed man. “I think that could be arranged.”

“Good,” he said firmly, nodding his head. “Make it soon. I mightn't have lived much of a life, but I know a man of substance when I see one.”

“W
HAT'S HE COMING
here for?” Joel's angry voice rang out. They were at dinner in the informal dining room off the kitchen the family used when not entertaining. Heath, for the first time in days, had made the effort to come to the table, although he ate very sparingly and allowed himself just one small glass of red wine.

“I've invited him, Joel,” Nicole said, thoroughly exasperated. “My father wants to meet him. He hasn't seen Drake in years.”

Joel shook his blond head, not being in the least subtle with his objections. “What possible interest could he be to you, Heath?” He transferred his attention across the table. “He's a bloody McClelland. His uncle was the bastard who stole your wife.”

Nicole saw her grandmother wince, Siggy's mouth tighten. Alan continued to eat slowly, apparently savoring every morsel of his beef Wellington. “Mind your language, would you?” she protested, not bothering to suppress her annoyance. Joel was becoming outrageous, or she was just starting to notice. “This is the dinner table, not the stockyards.”

“I'm so sorry, Princess!” Joel jeered, tension in the taut muscles of his lean face. “Is there something going on here I don't know about?”

“What if I said yes? What would you do?” She tossed off the challenge, much as she'd defied him as a child.

For a moment Joel looked as wild as a hawk. He might well have been about to answer, “Kill myself!” Instead, he made a visible effort to pull himself together. “I hope nothing would be happening you couldn't tell me, Nikki.”

Nicole responded by making her own tone quieter. “Joel, I've already told you our bitter feud with the McClellands is over. My father has made no objection, have you, Dad?”

Such open acknowledgment after the long years of estrangement returned Heath Cavanagh his dignity. “None whatever,” he said, smiling back at her. “I'm interested in meeting the adult Drake. I understand he's become quite an impressive character. I'd like to see that for myself.”

“Won't that upset you, Heath?” Siggy asked, looking genuinely concerned for him. There were such deep purple shadows beneath his eyes, hollows in his cheeks. He had lost so much weight.

“It might,” Heath conceded. “I won't find out until I actually lay eyes on him. Does he still have the look of David?”

“We haven't seen much of him, either, Heath.” Louise, seated at the head of the table, spoke in her gentle voice. “David was a handsome man.”

“Yes, he looks like his bloody uncle,” Joel burst out, discharging a dark kind of energy. “Only, the uncle was a wax dummy to this guy. I remember that David was a bit too much on the soft side. The gentleman, the patrician. Drake's as tough as nails. He
plays the patrician when it suits him. Just like Granddad, arrogant bastard.”

“Please do stop swearing, dear,” his grandmother pleaded, holding a hand to her temple. “You may have forgotten, but your grandfather never swore. He didn't have to play at being anything, either. He was real.”

“Clearly I don't take after him,” Joel said, flushing. “It's hard not to swear with what I've had to endure.”

“Endure?” Siggy sat bolt upright. “How you exaggerate, Joel! What in the name of heaven have you actually suffered? Sometimes you sound damn neurotic. If you put your mind to it, you could have a really good life.”

“What—like Dad?” Joel sneered, exposing his complete lack of respect for his father.

His father, however, regarded him impassively across the immaculately set table with its lace-trimmed place mats. Siggy answered for him. “Kindly leave your father out of it. He's never laid a finger on you, more's the pity.”

Joel laughed. “I'm sorry to tell you, Mum, but Dad is so thick-skinned you couldn't wound him if you tried. There are givers and takers. He's a born taker.”

“Thank you, my boy,” Alan murmured suavely, picking up his wineglass, sniffing the fine bouquet.

“Don't mention it.” Joel's face twisted with contempt.

“Look on the positive side, Joel,” Siggy said, trying to appease her difficult son. “You can play an active role in life. Find your niche.”

“Niche?” Joel cried as though someone had plunged a dinner fork into his arm. “Is this a setup?”
he demanded, looking from one to the other. “First Nikki talks about getting in an overseer. Now you start talking about me finding my niche. Are you about to kick me out?”

Alan stirred himself to give a piece of fatherly advice. “Do calm down, Joel, there's a good fellow.”

“What, if anything, would you know about good fellows?” Joel retorted. “Everything you bloody say is like an actor playing a part. It's not you at all. You won't let you out. No one tells you anything, either. You're just a piece of furniture.”

“Oh well,” Alan drawled, inclining his well-shaped fair head. “At least I don't go around upsetting people and swearing at the dinner table, whereas you occasionally act quite insane.”

“Insane, am I?” Joel shot to his feet, scraping back his chair. “I had to go into therapy because of having a father like you, a mother like her.” He paused to point at Siggy.

“Go on,” his father invited calmly, assuming the patrician look he had long since perfected from watching the late Sir Giles. “Your grandmother has always been an angel. That just leaves Nicole. We can't ignore Nicole. She figures very largely in your life. The question is, does that count as an upset.”

Joel focused wild eyes on his cousin. “She gives my life meaning.”

“Oh, for God's sake, Joel, sit down.” Siggy's strong resonant voice pinged off the walls. “You're making an utter fool of yourself. You've hardly touched your meal.”

Extraordinarily, given his abandon, Joel obeyed. “I'm very concerned about what's happening here,”
he said, breathing hard. “If McClelland ever crosses the line with Nicole, I'll kill him.”

A disbelieving laugh rose from his father's throat, but Siggy spoke grimly. “Look, I'm sick of all this melodrama. It's hell just having to listen to it.”

“Besides, Drake McClelland would be far too difficult to kill.” Alan used a calm, cool analytical voice, one of his extensive range.

Siggy, clearly not expecting him to say that, looked thoroughly disconcerted. “What the devil are you talking about, Alan? I don't know what's got into you all.”

“Just having a little joke, my dear, to distract you. I'm as appalled by what Joel has been saying as you.”

“Good God, you're a worse dad than I am, Alan,” Heath rasped, then took a sip of wine. “What motivates you? I wonder. I never did find out.”

“It wasn't drink and gambling, dear boy.” Alan's smile was cynical, touched with contempt. “You're dying, but you brought it all on yourself.”

Heath shook his head, as untroubled as ever by Alan's opinion. “No, someone else did that. The person who killed my wife. Did you kill her, Alan?” he asked.

“Lord God, Heath, what are you rabbiting on about now?” Siggy groaned, abandoning her own meal.

“I'm much too gentle, too God-fearing, to kill, Heath,” Alan answered equably. “I always thought you did it.”

“The hell you did!” Heath responded promptly, his black eyes burning. “You're not an easy character to get to know—always slip sliding around, they seek
him here, they seek him there—but I think I've finally got your measure.”

Louise, at the head of the table, held up a trembling hand, her magnificent jeweled rings that never came off flashing brilliantly. “Must we have these dreadful discussions at the table? It's a good thing Giles is dead. You're all making me feel ill.”

“Would you like to go to your room, Gran?” Nicole rose immediately to her feet, thinking this discussion, disturbing as it was, might have led to some answers.

“I think that would be for the best, darling.”

Joel, suddenly remembering himself, pulled his grandmother's chair back, allowing her to stand. “I don't believe my daughter was killed by anyone,” Louise announced, hovering between despair and continuing to hide her head in the sand. “It was an accident.”

“No, it wasn't!” Joel said unexpectedly, pulling them all up short.

“You know something, Joel?” Alan was very still now, the sneer wiped clear of his mouth.

“No more than the rest of you!” Now Joel's voice sounded powerless, almost a whine. “All we can do is wait.”

“Wait?” Nicole could keep silent no longer. “Wait for what?”

“I'll take you to your room, Mother.” Frowning ferociously, Siggy moved to her aging mother, throwing an arm protectively around her. “The truth is, this family is mad.”

“Right on, Mum. I hope you're including yourself,” Joel called after her.

“You're no comfort at all to your mother,” Alan chided.

“Do shut up, Dad,” Joel said in disgust. “What sort of man are you? Your life is just one long pretense.”

“My whole life actually,” his father answered mildly.

“What are we waiting for, Joel?” Nicole asked in a surprisingly steely tone.

“Surely you haven't forgotten?” He stared back at her like a combatant. “There's a killer out there.”

“Or in here.” Heath brought the whole thing into the open. “Something in the back of my brain keeps telling me neither of you has told the truth,” he addressed father and son. “I was wrongly accused.”

“That's what they all say, old boy,” Alan drawled. “You had someone to place you elsewhere, didn't you? That let you off the hook.” Alan spoke smoothly, but Nicole could see a vein beating away in his temple.

“Exactly! But as it turned out, so did you. And Joel.” Heath's black eyes glinted.

Nicole drew in her breath sharply. “Dad, all we're doing is taking stabs in the dark. Pointing at this one and that. No actual proof of anything. Joel was out driving. He was waiting to get his license, remember. He was sixteen years old.”

Heath didn't answer for a moment. “Every Outback kid can drive as soon as they can see over the wheel,” he said presently. “Joel regularly took one or other of the station vehicles out. No one knew where he went. Or where anyone went, for that matter. An Outback station offers unlimited freedom of movement. In all my years here no one ever checked on anyone.”

Nicole's thoughts were a chaotic mix. “Surely at least for that particular time everyone's movements
were
checked?” Being a child at the time, she'd been terribly handicapped.

“Pretty much like a city person saying I was at home all night, alone,” Heath offered wryly.

“But Granddad would have investigated.”

Heath considered awhile. “All these years later things seem clearer, especially when one is dying.”

“Oh, great!” Joel gripped the sides of his chair. “Now we're all suspects.”

“Well, it wasn't me,” Heath said in a very quiet voice. “It certainly wasn't Nicole. It wasn't the illustrious Giles. Nor saintly Louise.”

“You haven't commented on Mum yet,” Joel crowed sarcastically.

“I've concluded Siggy had nothing to do with it, either, though I've speculated on that, as well. Siggy loved her sister, though she was horrendously jealous of her.”

“There's at least one thing you should tell us,” Alan said. “Didn't you and she share a brief sexual encounter? Corrinne betrayed you, you betrayed her?”

“Sure I did. Later.” Heath didn't rise to Alan's taunt. In fact, he looked quite unconcerned. “But never with poor old Siggy. Apart from the fact I didn't want to add to her troubles, she never had the slightest appeal for me.”

A thin foxy smile crossed Alan's face. “Well, you conveyed that often enough. Constantly humiliating her.”

“Maybe I was trying to put her off,” Heath sug
gested, which in fact might have been true, Nicole thought.

“Oh, don't let's talk about Siggy like this,” she pleaded. “She's always tried to do her best in a dreadfully complicated household.”

“True!” Alan declared. “Don't you think it's high time we started on the McClellands? Exotic little Callista is a near basket case. Did she ever resolve her obsessive passion for her brother? The thing is, none of us knows what really happened.”

“I won't stop until I'm certain,” Nicole promised, the grimness of her expression offset by her beauty.

“Well, then, you'd best mind your back,” Alan murmured.

“The person who tries to harm Nicole will finish in hell,” Heath stated with astonishing vigor. “I'll personally see to it if I have to. I'm not all used up yet.”

 

F
ROM THE ANCIENT
flat-topped mesa they had a grandstand view of Shadow Valley. It had been very difficult for Nicole to consent to coming here, but she knew the only person she could approach the valley with was Drake. Even then it was with a sense of great apprehension.

Shadow Valley was a magnificent canvas even under drought. Eminently paintable. Color-saturated. A land beyond dimensions peopled on that scorching afternoon by thousands of little leaping stick figures the mirage threw up on the burning air. The great blood-red plain sprawled away in all directions; the far horizon, aglitter with the spectacular, jeweled gibber that littered certain parts of the desert.

The eternal golden spinifex made a patchwork car
pet, crisscrossed by innumerable interwoven water channels that gave the vast area its name. After heavy rains, when floodwaters broke the banks, the entire area was inundated. Billabongs ran fifty miles wide. The great plain turned into the inland sea of prehistory. It was one of the great sights of the Channel Country but no greater than when the floodwaters receded and wildflowers turned the arid Wild Heart impossibly glorious.

Beautiful, blazing, blinding, mile after mile after mile of desert flora; the white and gold paper daisies, the blue lupin and dancing Sue, the pink parakeelya, the purple moola-moola, the Morgan flower and the parrot pea, spider lilies and tomato bush, the scarlet desert peas, the pink boronia and its cousin, the divinely scented brown and yellow. Another sight that station people lived for and stored in the memory for when times were hard.