The Crescendo (22 page)

He did all his shopping without ever spotting Jaz, even though he knew she was smart enough to leave straightaway and check she wasn't followed. He had faith in her ability to pick up on simple things like that; even though he'd love to think it was his training, he knew a lot came from Jaz's own intuition. One of the things he loved about her, she was a quick learner, clever and level-headed, even if she was prone to taking too much risk. But didn't he do that too?

Over the noise of the shopping centre he heard his phone's ringtone. ‘Hello, Mr Randall,' said Ryan, recognising the number.

‘Are you free to come by the house now? I need to talk to you.' Randall sounded serious.

Ryan's breath caught in his throat. What could be wrong? He'd double-checked everything, nothing should be found out. He hadn't been followed. Yet a small part was worried he'd let something slip. Had he been followed to the shopping centre? How many eyes did Jamison have? ‘Sure can. Do I need to be in work uniform?' he asked, hoping to get a better clue what this was about.

‘No, not yet.' Randall hung up on him.

Shit. That had him even more confused. Ryan rushed back to Jamison's house; Bud was in his guard's uniform today and let him in through the electronic gates.

‘Hi ya, Reece.' Bud waved with enthusiasm.

‘Hey Bud.' Ryan waved back as he drove into the house yard and straight to the workers' area.

Yep, Ryan had a friend now, he just had to work on Wilkins.

Randall appeared as Ryan got out of the car, standing there in his suit and shades like a
Men in Black
agent.

His purchases were on the passenger seat, Annaliese's purse and her jeans. Randall caught a glimpse and raised an eyebrow.

‘Not for me, honest,' Ryan said with a smirk, while trying to gauge Randall's mood.

‘I don't know, I think that colour goes with your complexion.'

Ryan stared at Randall in shock. The guy had a sense of humour? Who knew? That had to be a good sign. Right?

‘I think you would be good fun after a few beers, Mr Randall,' said Ryan with a chuckle.

‘Probably a good thing I'm not a big drinker then. Come on, we'll talk in the staff lounge.'

They headed to the side of the car shed where the staff quarters were and into the end room, which had the kitchen and lounge area. It was clean and tidy, nothing second rate about these quarters, Jamison's staff were well-looked after. Randall gestured to a chair and they sat.

‘Sorry to call you in on your day off but we have a problem. A spew bug has taken out three of our good men so we are left shorthanded.'

‘That's cool. I'm all for helping out. Lay it on me. What can I do.'

‘Well, here's the thing, it doesn't involve the boss. I mean, it's not looking after him. Today we need to help look after some important documents of his.'

‘Righto. That's fine by me.' Ryan's eyes fell on some artwork on the wall. He frowned as he studied it. But he knew straightaway what it was. The Shesha Serpent logo.

‘What?' asked Randall.

‘I've seen that before. Yes, I think Bud has that as a tattoo, and Stevo now I think about it.' He tried hard to make it sound like natural inquisitiveness. ‘What is it? A family crest or something?'

‘I guess you could say that. Those loyal to Jamison all have the same tattoo as a mark of respect and trust.'

Ryan's eyes dropped to Randall's wrists on purpose. He already knew there was no tattoo there.

Randall reached up to his chest and pointed to it. ‘Mine is here. We all select where we want them. I prefer mine close to my heart, shows my loyalty; Jamison is family. The boys prefer to put them on display, some use it as a trophy over the others.'

‘Will I earn one? Or am I too close to Jamison by being with Annaliese?'

‘Do you want to earn one?'

‘I believe so, if it helps Jamison. I don't take my relationship with Annaliese lightly and neither that with her father. He could very well be my father-in-law at some stage,' said Ryan, letting Randall know his intentions.

‘Then that makes it an interesting question. One which may be answered over time. By doing this job today it's a foot in the right direction. We will see if you can be trusted, keep your mouth shut and that includes with Annaliese. The boss likes to keep her out of the business, you understand.' Randall's sunglasses sat on top of his head, his eyes were like giant anchors holding Ryan still with the seriousness of his words.

‘I've been in security work for a long time, Mr Randall. I understand privacy, keeping my mouth shut to what I see and do. That will always stand, even if I am with the boss's daughter. I've never taken my work home with me, to any of my family or girlfriends over the years. I take my job and my positions seriously.' Ryan tried to return the same steely gaze. ‘You can't expect people to take you seriously if you don't take your work seriously.'

Randall watched him for a moment before sitting back. ‘Good. We could use more of that around here. Between you and me, I feel Bud is a little lax on that part.'

‘So what do you need from me today?' Ryan asked, trying to remain calm and serious. This could be another step towards the underworld that Jamison ran.

‘Come back this afternoon at five, in your suit, bring your weapon. We'll then go from there.'

And that was the end of their conversation. Randall got up and left, mumbling something about having to get back to do a check around the house and interview new staff.

Ryan got up slowly, checking out the lounge area while he could for anything he could use later. There were a heap of drag car magazines on the table, he wondered who was into them. Wilkins? Might be a way to get to him.

With nothing else standing out as noteworthy, Ryan headed back to his flat to change before going to Annaliese's for lunch. He was worried she'd find a long black hair on him or something, so for good measure he changed shirts.

It was just them for lunch so Ryan could relax a little.

‘Here are the jeans you wanted, babe, and I got you something for being so amazing,' he said pulling out the Oroton purse from the bag, after she let him into her expensive flat.

His ears trembled at the squeal she let out as she dived for the purse.

‘Oh my God, Reecie, this is just what I've been wanting. How did you know? Oh I love it.' Annaliese held it like a baby, stroking it and smelling the leather.

And yet what he'd paid for that purse would be enough money to feed the little girl who he'd made friends with in Pakistan a few missions ago, and her family, for a year.

‘I have just the dress for it. I'll have to wear it tonight when I meet up with the girls.'

‘About that, sweetie. Randall called and wants me to be at work at five. I'm so sorry I can't make it.' He tried his hardest to look like he gave a damn.

Annaliese looked at her purse then back to Ryan. ‘Well, best we make the most of our time.' She put the purse down on the table, trailed a finger over it lovingly one last time before stepping towards Ryan and reaching for the top of his jeans.

‘We haven't had lunch yet?' he said quickly. He wasn't in the mood, especially after being with Jaz earlier. He didn't want to taint this day. He'd even left his shirt on his bed for tonight so he could lay beside it and see if he could still smell Jaz.

Annaliese slipped her hands under his shirt and ran her long nails up his chest. She had that look in her eye that said nothing was going to change her mind.

Ryan tried to dissect himself into two. He needed to be Reece now. With a deep breath, he gave into the situation and let Annaliese have her way.

***

A few hours later it was a relief to get back to his own flat, shower and lie on his bed by his shirt from earlier. His Jaz shirt. He picked it up with gentle hands and brought it to his face, the part where she'd rested her head. Closing his eyes he inhaled. And there it was—the faint scent of frangipani. It almost brought him to tears. The lump in his throat was agony as he fought it all the way. He couldn't give in to his loneliness, the aching, the wanting. This is why agents weren't supposed to fall in love. It was messing with his head. It had been torture with Annaliese earlier. All he wanted was Jaz.

Trying to stay in control, Ryan jumped off his bed, got dressed and went for a long, long jog. When he reached a nearby park he did push-ups, squats, sit-ups and whatever else he could think of to fill his mind with pain.

By the time he got back to his flat, he was drenched in sweat and ready for another shower. Then he headed off to work.

‘Good, you're here,' said Randall when he arrived back at the house for his ‘special' job.

‘Yes, sir.'

Ryan followed Randall to another car that he'd never seen Jamison in. It was a similar car to the one Jamison used but an older model. Wilkins was at the driver's seat again but no words were exchanged as Randall opened the back door for Ryan.

They both got in and Wilkins drove out of the Jamison estate.

It was a quiet ride and soon Ryan realised they were heading to the warehouse by port area.

‘Stay here, and watch the outside until I come back,' said Randall as they stood at the front of the shed and he pressed in the pin.

200634

But it was useless to Ryan when he knew there was a camera inside, plus another code was needed for the secret door. It wasn't worth breaking in if you couldn't get to that inner door. Ryan had wondered about getting in through the back wall, cutting it open. But that would also raise suspicion and make them move whatever it was they were hiding.

Fifteen minutes later Randall came out with a locked case, black with a number lock at each end of the opening, which he passed straight to Ryan. But what surprised him the most was the young girl by his side.

Randall spoke to the girl in perfect Filipino, not something Ryan was overly familiar with except for a few simple words in greeting and enough to know it was the language being spoken. The girl looked like she was Jaz's age, darker skin, black hair and russet-coloured eyes that held great sadness. She nodded at Randall's words and went straight to the car, holding down the blue skirt she wore in the afternoon breeze. Her top was a white, almost see-through blouse with matching slip-on shoes. Who was she for, he wondered.

Randall locked the door behind him. ‘Let's go.'

Ryan went straight for the front passenger seat and Randall didn't correct him. He held the case on his lap and wished he had X-ray eyes. He bet it contained either money or drugs. Or maybe nothing at all, yet.

He couldn't see the girl nor hear her; she remained quiet, as did the car's other occupants.

‘We all clear?' asked Randall twenty minutes into their trip.

‘No one following, sir,' said Wilkins.

‘Nothing,' said Ryan as he glanced in the side-view mirror.

‘Good,' came Randall's satisfied reply.

Wilkins was driving them into the wealthy area of Perth. Peppermint Grove was not where Ryan had expected this trip to take them. To a brothel maybe, in some side street suburb, but Peppy? Wow.

They stopped by a big, gated fence and Wilkins talked through the intercom.

‘We are here for the six o'clock delivery.'

No names, no details. This didn't help Ryan at all. He tried to keep the address in the back of his mind. If this girl was being left here, what for? This person's own plaything, or was the guy an owner of a few prostitution houses, or was she just going to be a housemaid? Ryan almost laughed at his last thought, so naive he should know better. The worst thing was Ryan couldn't save this girl, taking down this one man wouldn't stop the others. But he'd do his best, as would the other operatives he could put in place to watch this house and see where the leads could take them.

Wilkins drove through the open gates, up a paved driveway to the entry point of the house, which had a drive-through area like a hotel.

Ryan felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to see Randall. ‘You come with me.'

So no names were being used in front of the girl. Smart.

They got out, Randall took the case and pushed the girl to him.

‘She is your responsibility, bring her but keep her five metres behind me. If I don't get what we came for we take her back. Understood.'

Ryan put his hand gently on the girl's slender arm and nodded. He'd vouch she hadn't eaten that well in the past few months, by the feel of her.

Wilkins stayed in the car, Randall headed for the door, which a guard opened for them, and Ryan kept the girl at the requested distance.

They went inside, the huge entry way was extravagant in the use of jarrah and fancy carpets. The owner seemed to have a thing for stuffed animal heads, a game hunter maybe? A solid wood staircase swept its way up to the second floor in front of them and rooms spread out to the left and right. They were guided into a sitting room on the right with leather chairs and ottomans. The paintings in this room were edged in large gold frames and looked antique, the jarrah side table had crystal decanters filled with whiskies, with matching crystal glasses.

Another man in a suit came into the room. ‘He will see you now.'

Randall nodded, then turned back to Ryan. From the silent look he gave, Ryan knew he was to stay here with the girl and to watch his back. Randall didn't trust these guards and so neither would Ryan.

For a moment he was left alone with the girl. He looked at her, releasing her arm. ‘You're okay.' Then he remembered the man from Jamison's farm. ‘Yanna?'

Her head shot up, face bright, recognition in her eyes. She started talking in hushed Filipino.

Ryan shook his head. ‘Only English. Sorry.'

She fell silent then, her face back to the unfocused dread of before and Ryan wished he knew enough to tell her to be brave and that her father hadn't given up on her. But then she'd probably ask if her father was alive and Ryan wasn't sure what action had been taken in that department. Not without asking Randall, and that could cause all sorts of problems. All he could do was smile at her and try to convey some hope.