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  Crap.

  She ducked down behind one of her hives. When the ute disappeared behind her shed, she ran, sprinting towards it, her muscles aching. The engine switched off and a car door slammed. Not far now. Mark might go into his man cave or the house. Either way, it gave her time to reach her shed and duck inside. She slowed in case her footsteps were loud and hurried, the shed coming closer and closer, but blocking her view of Mark and his car.

  A second door slammed. Had Mark brought his mistress home again?

  She crept along the side of the shed and peered around the corner. The ute was parked outside the man cave. She waited, watching for movement. Light shone from the cracks around the door. He was probably inside, but she waited another minute before ducking into her processing shed. She moved through the dark and switched on the light in her work room. Pulling a chair up to the table, she brushed leaves off her jumper, but grey fire break sand covered her boots.

  Grabbing the broom from the corner she brushed them off and then threw the sand into the bin. Quickly she turned her laptop on, opened her stock inventory software and sat. Her heart still raced, so she took a few calming breaths before she read the information before her. She’d work for fifteen minutes, which would give her enough time to settle. Then if she ran into Mark on her way back to the house, she could tell the truth about working.

  She closed her eyes. She was not cut out for this spy stuff.

  Chapter 12

  The sun hadn’t risen when Kim’s alarm blared the next day. Kim groaned and turned it off, before dressing in his jogging gear. He should switch to jogging in the evenings until the days grew longer. He slipped his backpack on and headed outside. Lights glowed through the kitchen window of his parents’ place, but he didn’t go inside, instead heading for the side gate and out onto the street. This morning he wanted to be alone. He stretched, shivering in the crisp, cold air, and rubbed his arms, then jogged down the hill, heading towards the beach in the distance.

  Had Alyse made it home safely last night?

  He didn’t dare call to find out. When he’d discovered Mark had gone, he’d almost had a heart attack. The customer he’d been dealing with had been a pain, wanting to know about every single dish on the menu and he’d been with them for a good five minutes or more before they’d completed their order. So he didn’t have a good idea of when Mark left.

  Later that night, after the restaurant had grown quiet, he’d called Jeremy to find out what Olivia had said. His conscience twinged. Did it count as spying on Alyse? Hopefully not. He would have called her if he wasn’t worried about Mark intercepting it.

  His breathing steadied as he found his stride, jogging past houses with smoke curling into the sky from their chimneys. The sun shone just above the horizon now and the light was soft, calming.

  Would the police be in contact with Alyse today? Could they protect her from whatever Mark had tied her up in?

  His mother’s lawyer voice sounded in his head. How do you know Alyse isn’t involved? You only have her word.

  There was a possibility Alyse was lying to him and she was more involved than she claimed, but the idea didn’t sit right with him. She was clearly afraid of Mark.

  So what was the next step? He had to respect her boundaries and not call her every day. Mark would definitely get suspicious. And he couldn’t drop around for the same reason. He was forced to wait.

  It grated on him. He’d enjoyed yesterday on the kayak. He loved helping her conquer her fear, wanted to go kayaking again, or organise a boat to take her out in the calmer inlet. Nicholas’s parents had a boat he could borrow, and there were a couple of secluded boat ramps out of town. If they could go out on a day like yesterday, the water would be calm. But it all depended on Mark.

  He hated the man.

  It had galled him to be pleasant last night when Mark had come into the restaurant with his mistress. Though there had been a certain level of satisfaction knowing while Mark was there, Alyse was working towards putting him behind bars.

  He jogged past Mai’s bakery, which was already full of people at this early hour. He’d stop there on the way back, pick up some fresh bread and get a coffee. Mai had got him into jogging. She’d moved home after her apartment had burned down earlier in the year and she’d dragged him jogging with her in the afternoons before he went to work.

  It had been nice seeing her every day, but it had been the summer holidays which meant all of his sisters were back home. And it was too much to bear. When his parents had built the granny flat to prepare for Grandma coming for an extended visit at the end of the year, he’d jumped at the chance to move in.

  He jogged along the river and reached the inlet halfway point. The water was still, but the forecast was for strong winds this afternoon. Hopefully no one would need rescuing. He didn’t have time for a call out. It was tax time, so he had to prepare the accounts for Olivia, plus he had to schedule a bunch of orders. Nothing challenging, just stuff that had to be done.

  Maybe his father was right, and he should focus on his design business. It had been easy to push it aside, call it a hobby, not have to worry about making a success of it. He didn’t want to fail.

  Kim was breathing hard when he stopped outside Mai’s bakery. He took a minute to stretch before he headed inside, the heat inside a little uncomfortable.

  “Morning, Kim,” Jodie said. “The usual?”

  “Yes, please.” He handed her his reusable coffee cup and scanned the patrons but spotted no redheads. Not that Alyse would be in town this early. She had her own business to run. “I’ll have a loaf of sourdough too.” He glanced into the kitchen. Mai kneaded something on one of her tables. She looked up, and he waved. He knew better than to enter her kitchen while he was a sweaty mess.

  She held up a hand for him to wait and wiped her hands on a tea towel before coming out. “Good jog?”

  He nodded. “Cleared the head.”

  “Mum called and asked for you to bring a multi-grain loaf home. They’ve run out of bread.”

  “Sure.” He paid and slid the bread into his backpack, taking out his jacket. “Have you made any plans for your birthday yet?” It was next week, and he still hadn’t bought her anything.

  “Not yet. I thought we might do dinner at the restaurant, invite all the usuals, so you and Dad can be there.”

  “Sounds great.” The bell above the door chimed as someone walked into the bakery. He turned, ready to smile, but it was Mark.

  Mark glared at him and said to Jodie, “Black coffee.”

  If Mark was here, then Alyse was alone. “Can I use your sink?” He didn’t wait for his sister to answer, but brushed by her, ignoring her squawk of complaint.

  “Kim, you’re not allowed back here like that,” she said as she followed him in.

  He moved out of sight of the front counter and lowered his voice. “I need to borrow your phone.”

  She handed it to him, a frown on her face. “What are you up to now?”

  “Hang on.” He dialled Alyse’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Kim,” he said. “Mark’s in Mai’s bakery.” He shifted to see what Jodie was making. “He’s getting take-away coffee.”

  “Thanks. Have you spoken to Jeremy?”

  “Yeah, he filled me in.” He held his breath waiting for her reaction.

  “Good. I’ll call you when I hear about the police.” She hung up.

  He reined in his frustration. She didn’t have time to chat to him.

  “Thanks, Mai.” He handed her back her phone and went to give her a hug, but she stepped away.

  “I’m not hugging you when you’re sweaty. Go home, have a shower.”

  He grinned. “Yes, sis.”

  He ignored Mark as he left, inhaling his coffee’s rich steam and walked quickly to chase off the chill in the air. Crossing the main street, he trudged up the hill to his parents’ place. He probably should jog, but he enjoyed his morning ritual of stopping at the bakery, se
eing his sister, and taking his time drinking his coffee in peace.

  An engine roared behind him, splitting the calm stillness. A black ute barrelled towards him, Mark behind the wheel.

  Shit.

  Kim leapt off the road, coffee sloshing out of his cup and burning his hands. He ducked behind a jacaranda on the curb. Mark gave him the finger as he shot past, way too close for comfort.

  Kim swore as he shook the hot coffee off his hands, his heart racing. That was close.

  “Are you all right?” Tamara trotted down the steps of her front porch towards him.

  “Yeah.”

  She scowled, looking at the ute driving away. “Did you see who it was?”

  “Mark Patton.”

  She grunted. “Figures. You should call the police.”

  He nodded. Would Mark have hit him if he hadn’t leapt out of the way? “I will.”

  “Tell them I saw everything if they need a second witness.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled. It was time to make Mark’s life uncomfortable.

  ***

  Alyse’s heart raced like a greyhound on speed as she strode into Mark’s office, snapping on her rubber gloves. She didn’t have a lot of time. Mark could be back in ten minutes, or he might be gone all day. First the four-drawer metal filing cabinet. The drawers didn’t budge. Locked. She scrawled the model and the number under the keyhole onto a piece of paper and shoved it in her pocket. Glancing towards the door, she pulled open the top drawer of Mark’s large wooden desk. Pens and stationery. The second one had reams of printing paper.

  What next?

  She daren’t move the papers covering the desk in case Mark had some system in place, but she read the top document. A contract for the purchase of her honey.

  Frowning, she picked it up. The customer wasn’t familiar and she wrote down the name. She checked the terms and her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t produce that much honey in a year. What was Mark thinking? She longed to photograph it or confront him and demand to know what he was up to.

  Carefully she placed the paper back on the table and checked the rest of the room. Only his laptop on the table. She pressed the power button.

  The back door slammed and she jumped. Fear clutched her heart as she slammed the laptop lid closed and raced out of the office, closing the door quietly behind herself. She tore off the gloves, shoving them in her pocket and took a moment to calm herself before she walked towards the sound. “Mark, is that you?”

  A tall, broad shouldered man walked into the hallway and it took her a second to process it was Mark’s brother, Craig. She sucked in a breath. Why was he here?

  “Hi, Alyse. I thought you’d be at work. Is Mark here?”

  “No. He headed into town.” She moved towards him, gestured for him to follow her to the kitchen, her muscles tight.

  “Damn. He said he’d lend me some tools. Mind if I go into his man cave?”

  Alyse hesitated. No one was allowed into the man cave without Mark. He’d made it very clear when it was built. “I don’t have a key.”

  “You don’t?” Surprise tinged his tone, but his eyes studied her.

  “No. I don’t go near it.” She forced a smile. “I have my own shed.”

  “I guess you do.”

  She filled the kettle. “Let me call Mark and ask him if he has a spare one.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll catch him later.” He smiled. “Nice seeing you.”

  After he walked out, she let out a breath, unease slipping over her skin. Strange. Craig knew how Mark felt about his man cave. She glanced out the window and watched him drive away.

  It wasn’t her problem.

  Too wired to further search Mark’s office, she checked his laptop had shut down and then made herself a cup of tea. Perhaps she could find information on the company Mark was planning to sell her honey to. A quick google resulted in little information about them, only an ABN, but no website. This might be one of the companies Mark was using to launder money.

  She turned off her computer and put it back in her bedroom. She needed to get to work. When she went into Albany, she’d stop by the locksmith to get a key for the filing cabinet. Winter was always slow, but it gave her plenty of opportunity to clean her tools, paint hive boxes and make new frames.

  As she reached the big roller door, Mark pulled into the property and parked next to her shed. “Where are you off to?”

  “I need to get some supplies in Albany so I can make some new frames before spring. I’ll be a couple of hours.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  No. That wouldn’t work. She smiled. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t help my partner?”

  A crappy one, but it had never stopped him before. She needed a distraction. “Craig dropped by. Said you were going to lend him some tools.”

  Mark scowled. “When?”

  “He left about ten minutes ago. He wanted to get them himself, but I told him no.”

  His eyes widened. “He wanted to go into my shed?”

  She nodded.

  His whole expression darkened and Alyse stepped back, ready for the explosion, her muscles tense.

  “Did he say he was coming back?”

  She shook her head, edged further away. “He said he’d catch you later.”

  Mark stalked after her as she moved into the shed. He muttered to himself and she kept her distance, taking a notepad from her table and recording the measurements and supplies she needed, constantly checking where he was as he fumed.

  With her list complete, she asked, “Are you coming?”

  He shook his head. “No. Better stay here in case Craig comes back. You were right to refuse him entry. That’s my space.”

  Relief filled her. “Of course. I’ll see you when I get back.”

  Climbing into her van, she breathed deeply. Getting caught in an argument between the two brothers would be dangerous.

  The breathing didn’t help the tension in her shoulders.

  Too many odd things were occurring; Mark offering to help her and Craig turning up unannounced. Time was running out.

  Chapter 13

  Alyse drove out of Albany, the new filing cabinet key burning a hole in her pocket. If Mark found it, she’d never be able to explain it. Would it be better if she put it on her keyring—hide it in plain sight—or keep it in her pocket and hope Mark didn’t go through her clothes? She should have bought her own filing cabinet, then she’d have a reason for a key—but he’d likely confiscate the keys anyway. She groaned, anxiety causing her heart to beat faster. The sooner this was over the better. Maybe she should call Jeremy, find out if he’d heard from the police.

  Her phone rang making her jump. Think of the devil. She answered and then clenched the steering wheel. “What did they say?”

  “Lincoln wants to talk to you in person,” Jeremy said.

  “Can he protect me?”

  “He needs more information.”

  She bit her lip. “All I have are my accounts.” No, that wasn’t all. “And the name Salvatore Incorporated. I found a sales contract in Mark’s office, but the quantities are far more than I can provide. Lincoln might be able trace it, find out if it’s of any value.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “Oh, and I bought a key for Mark’s filing cabinet too. Hopefully I’ll open it this afternoon.”

  “OK. I’ll call you back.”

  “Thanks, Jeremy.”

  “Any time.” He hung up.

  Her hands shook. Would she ever have enough evidence to put Mark away for good? If the filing cabinet didn’t amount to anything, she’d get into his man cave somehow.

  If Mark caught her though… he was acting strangely as it was. She swallowed hard. Would he be mad enough to kill her? Should she carry some kind of weapon, like a Swiss army knife? No, Mark would overpower her and then he’d use it against her.

  Her chest ached. One way o
r another, Mark’s terrorism would end—hopefully with her still alive.

  She pulled into her property half an hour later and parked in the shed. Mark’s ute was by the house so he was around somewhere. She’d have to wait to get back into his office. In the meantime, she’d offload her supplies and build some new frames for the hives and paint some new supers.

  The normal task of measuring wood helped to reduce the tension in her shoulders. She enjoyed this time of year. It was quieter, with only the Flat Top Yate flowering, so it meant she had time to take stock, thoroughly clean and repair all of her equipment and prepare for the rush of spring. She whistled as she measured the pieces she needed.

  “Why are you so happy?”

  She spun to find Mark right behind her. “Oh, you startled me.” She placed a hand to her chest, to calm her pulse.

  “If you weren’t whistling, you’d hear me.”

  She nodded.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Ah, well I’m working on new frames for spring. I enjoy making them.”

  He scowled. “I called Craig.”

  Something in his tone made her stiffen. “Did you get it sorted?”

  “He said he didn’t drop by.”

  She frowned, stepping away from him. “What do you mean?”

  “What, are you deaf now? You lied about him coming over so I wouldn’t go with you.” He moved closer, looming over her. “Who did you meet?”

  Alyse shook her head, fear prickling her skin. “No one. I did what I told you—picked up supplies in Albany.”

  “So if I check your mileage it’ll show only those kilometres?”

  “Yes. I bought a coffee and pastry for morning tea after I went to the hardware store. The take-away cup’s still in the cup holder.” The key felt heavy and she resisted the urge to place her hand over it.

  He stared at her for a long moment and then checked the van.

  Why would Craig lie? Had he not expected her to be at home? It didn’t matter. Her immediate concern was Mark’s reaction. He was primed, ready for a fight, but leaving the shed would only antagonise him further.