The Predator (2 page)

It had been a lifetime since she’d seen him. So much had happened. So much had changed.
She
had changed.

He looked as good as ever. Apart from the tiny lines around his eyes, he’d barely aged a day. His dark-blond hair was still thick and free from gray. His golden-toned skin, inherited from his Caucasian mother and aboriginal father, glowed with vitality and good health. From the way he filled out his tailored suit, she could tell his tall frame housed not an ounce of fat and it looked as though he still hit the gym as often as she used to.

Way back when.

Way back when she was married to him.

What do you mean, was? You’re still married.

The thought intruded, harsh and entirely unwelcome. She pounded the steering wheel with her fists and tried to deny the silent truth, biting her lip in frustration.

It was true. She was still married.
They
were still married. She’d never taken the time to analyze why she hadn’t filed for divorce. Hadn’t wanted to analyze that. And until about half an hour ago, it hadn’t been an issue. Apart from the fact memories of his proposal on a forty-foot yacht meant she was reluctant to step on board a boat. And she’d long since gotten over the night he came home and told her they were over.
Hadn’t
she?

Some tiny part of her wondered from time to time why Brandon hadn’t filed either, but those thoughts had intruded only on the rarest of occasions and usually late at night when she’d indulged in too much merlot. In the morning, she’d wake and push the lingering memories back into the farthest corner of her mind and go about her day.

Why the hell had he chosen
her
unit to work in? He could have gone anywhere. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been up to his neck trying to infiltrate Indonesian terrorist cells—as far removed from online child pornography rings as she could imagine.

Perhaps he hadn’t known?
After all, she’d had made three transfers since their split. Maybe she was flattering herself that he’d kept track of her movements. She certainly hadn’t kept track of his. Not really.

Who was she kidding?

Alex sighed and opened the car door. Retrieving her handbag and keys, she headed toward the front gate of the Center.

The sound of late-afternoon shouts, cries and laughter greeted her as she entered the preschool room. She looked around and spotted Sam. He was playing in Home Corner, as usual, dwarfed in dress-up clothes—a man’s shirt and belt—and nursing a doll that looked so lifelike, it could be mistaken for a real baby.

“Hey, Sam!” she called out to him.

He looked up and saw her and his face filled with sunshine. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Alex bent down on one knee and braced herself against the impact of the small, warm body that launched itself against her.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! You came!”

“Of course I came, Sammy,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her lips against the softness of his dark, curly hair. “I told you I would.”

“I know, but you took so
long
. Look at my baby, Mommy! Her name’s Isabelle. She’s my little sister.”

Alex’s heart clenched, but as she gazed into his earnest brown eyes—eyes that looked nothing like his father’s—she forced a smile.

Her heart hammered at the thought of what Brandon would do if he discovered he had a son. She pulled slightly away, cupping her hands around Sam’s much-loved face, searching a little frantically for signs of his father.

There were none. She was sure of it. He had none of Brandon’s blond coloring. He was a male version of her. Everyone commented on it, even her mother.

A wave of relief rushed through her and she pulled him tightly against her.

“Mom, you can let me go now. You’re crushing me and you’re hurting Isabelle.”

With reluctance, Alex released him and stood a little shakily, trying to catch her breath. Busying herself by signing him out, she waited while he tugged off the dress-ups, laid the doll gently into a cradle and went to collect his bag.

She took another steadying breath. It was okay. Everything was going to be all right. So, her husband had stepped back into her life. A husband she hadn’t seen or heard from for more than four years. It didn’t mean he was looking for a reunion. He’d probably been as surprised as she when he’d discovered she worked in the same department.

Really, what was she worrying about? The likelihood of him wanting to take up where they’d left off was ludicrous. Besides, she could always have a word with the boss and minimize the number of shifts they shared. With a little manoeuvring, she could probably manage to forget all about him.

As long as he didn’t find out about Sam.

CHAPTER TWO

Cassie Munro twirled a piece of ash-blond hair around her finger and read the message on her computer screen. A smile broke across her face. It was him. Justin. He was online.

Her pulse skipped a beat and she willed her fingers to type faster, wishing she’d agreed to take the touch typing course with her mother at the local TAFE college when she’d asked her last summer.

It was nearly time for lunch and she had so much to tell him, starting with the nasty Mr Purvis who’d given them two whole pages of algebra to finish by Monday morning. School was the pits. She knew he’d understand. He was only a couple of grades ahead of her.

Of course, his real name probably wasn’t Justin, just like she wasn’t Lady G, but it was fun to pretend and much more glamorous than using her real name. Besides, she had listened to all those lectures her parents had given her about online safety, even if they thought she hadn’t. She knew better than to give out her real name.

A response flashed on her screen and she smiled. Justin knew exactly what she meant about Mr Purvis. His science teacher was exactly the same. He called him ‘Homework Hitler.’ She loved it.

“Cassie, come downstairs and get ready for lunch, please. Uncle Brandon’s going to be here soon.”

Cassie grimaced. Not that she didn’t love seeing Uncle Brandon. Out of all her uncles, he was her favorite. It helped that he was cute. He was getting a bit old, but not as old as her dad. Her father had already turned thirty-five.

“Cassie.”

Her mother’s voice held a note of warning and Cassie shot off a quick response to Justin, her fingers moving quickly over the keyboard.

“Mom’s calling me for lunch. Gotta go.”

The reply was just as quick.

“Come back as soon as you’ve finished, gorgeous. I’ll be waiting.”

Cassie blushed and her stomach flip-flopped. She loved it when he called her that. It made her feel like a woman—grown-up, sexy, cool. Even with her braces.

Snatching a quick breath, she darted into the adjoining bathroom and splashed water across her cheeks. It wouldn’t do for her parents to wonder about her high color.

She walked back into her bedroom, closed her laptop and headed down the stairs.

CHAPTER THREE

Brandon Munro gave a perfunctory knock and turned the knob of the stained glass paneled wooden door that graced the entryway of his brother’s two storey 1950’s bungalow, perched on the corner of one of Chatswood’s quiet, leafy streets.

“Hello?” he called out, glancing around. “Tom? Lily?” He hung his coat on the hatstand that stood in the corner and brushed off the fine droplets of mist that clung to its folds. Winter was closing in and there was a definite chill in the air.

A noise above him captured his attention. Looking up, he smiled and watched his niece bound down the stairs toward him with the natural athleticism inherited from her Aboriginal grandfather. Her long blond hair hung loose around her shoulders. At twelve, she was still all arms and legs, but it was already obvious she’d be a stunner.

Brandon grinned back at her and enveloped her in a warm hug. “How’s my favorite niece? You’re getting prettier by the minute. I’ll have to make sure that brother of mine has his shotgun at the ready. It won’t be long and the boys will be queuing at the door.”

Cassie ducked her head and her cheeks turned scarlet. “Uncle Brandon, you’re so silly. Daddy doesn’t even own a shotgun.”

“Aha, so you’re not denying the boys will be lining up?”

Cassie blushed again and shook her head. Brandon took pity on her. He wasn’t that old that he couldn’t remember what it was like to be in that in-between stage—not an adult, but no longer a child—and feeling uncomfortable in both worlds.

“So,” he said, draping his arm around her shoulders as they headed toward the kitchen. “Where’s that brother of yours?”

Cassie grinned. “Joe’s gone to Billy’s house for a sleepover.” Her eyes sparkled with triumph. “I get the TV remote for the
whole
weekend.”

Brandon chuckled. “How’s school going?”

“It’s okay, I guess,” Cassie replied. “I can’t wait for next term. We’re going on an excursion to the Blue Mountains. We’re going
camping
. In tents with sleeping bags and everything. It’s going to be so cool. I’m going to share with Madeleine and Lucy. We’re already planning what clothes we’re going to take.”

“Wow, school excursions have come a long way since my day. I remember the most excitement I ever had was visiting a dairy farm on the north coast.”

Cassie’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Really?”

“Yep. We traveled a few hours on a bus, up around the mountain range and over the other side. Stopped for Stanley Woods to be sick on the way there
and
back and that’s about it. Oh, and the smell of the dairy.
That
was unforgettable.”

She giggled. “You went to school in Grafton, didn’t you? Like Daddy?”

“I sure did. Your dad’s a few years older than I am, but we went to the same school. I think he did the dairy farm excursion, too. You should ask him about it one day. I’m sure that was the time he managed to sneak a kiss with Donna Burton.”

Cassie’s eyes went wide, twinkling with mischief. “Daddy kissed a girl? Really? Does Mom know?”

“Does Mom know what?” Tom Munro asked, walking into the kitchen.

Brandon closed the distance and gave his brother’s hand a shake, grinning. “Hey, big brother, how’s it going? We were talking about you, not to you.”

The twinkle in Tom’s eyes, eyes the exact same shade as his daughter’s, belied the frown that creased his forehead.

“Uncle Brandon was telling me about your school excursion. The one where you went to a dairy farm and kissed Donna Burton.”

Tom smiled and met Brandon’s gaze in shared confidence. “Donna Burton. Well, that’s a blast from the past. She was fourteen and built in all the right places. I was a year younger. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when she said I could kiss her.” He shook his head in reminiscence. “I wonder what happened to her?”

“What happened to who?”

The brothers turned. Lily Munro came toward them. Her simple, chocolate-brown dress emphasized her blond coloring and clung to her soft curves before falling away in an elegant swathe just below her knees. A scarf made from some kind of soft fabric in red and cream and orange hues hung around her neck. Brandon stepped forward and greeted his sister-in-law with a warm hug.

“Hey, Lily. You look lovely. Thanks for inviting me over. Something smells great.”

Lily held him at arm’s length and looked him up and down. She shook her head. “You’re looking way too scrawny, Brandon. It’s been far too long since you’ve been here. I intend to stuff you full of garlic-and-herb bread fresh from the breadmaker, sweet potato bake, fresh green beans in a honey and mustard glaze and a choice cut of rump steak.”

“And afterwards?” he asked, widening his eyes innocently.

She slapped him lightly on his arm. “Cheeky as ever, I see. It just happens I’ve baked your favorite triple-chocolate cheesecake with freshly whipped cream and strawberries straight from the garden.”

Brandon groaned in appreciation. “If you ever get sick of living with this brother of mine, you know where to come.”

“You’re on.” Lily gave him a smile, but they both knew it was said in jest. Tom and his wife were nearly joined at the hip.

A pang of envy went through him and he immediately squelched it. He’d forfeited a happy home life more than four years ago. Single-handedly, he’d destroyed his marriage and no amount of looking for excuses would change that fact.

He’d screwed up. Pure and simple. And in the process, he’d lost the only woman he ever loved.

* * *

Thoughts of Alex still crowded Brandon’s mind a few hours later when he took his second bottle of beer out of the fridge and followed his brother outside. The meal was over and the plates had been cleared. He was relaxed and sated with good food and even better company.

Between Lily entertaining them with amusing anecdotes from her work as a primary school teacher and Cassie groaning about her younger brother and the irritations he caused her on a daily basis, the tension that had held him in its grip ever since he’d walked through the doors of the CPU had eased.

His thoughts wandered to his swag of brothers and sisters. Tom was the oldest. Then came Declan. Brandon was third in line and after him came the twins, Clayton and Riley. Then came the babies of the family, his two younger sisters, Josie and Chanel. With Clayton and Tom both now married with children and Riley newly engaged, the family was quickly expanding.

He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs to capacity. The early afternoon air was pleasantly crisp and the earlier mist had lifted. Pulling out a deck chair, he sat down at the rectangular-shaped outdoor table across from his brother and stared up at the mid-afternoon sky littered with puffy, white clouds.

Tom took a swig of his beer and exhaled. “Okay, spill it, bro. What’s up?”

Brandon started in surprise, but he should have known he couldn’t hide anything from Tom. Despite the three-year age gap, they’d always been close.

He debated about lying, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Tom had only asked because he cared. Besides, it would be good to tell someone. It had been eating him up inside since he’d seen her again.