Black Mountain (16 page)

‘Got it! Now for the rest.' She repeated the process until she successfully removed all four ticks. ‘There, all done.'

‘Elly, you're a marvel.' Mitchell grinned at her as he replaced his shirt and buttoned it up.

‘You'll need to put some antiseptic on them after you have your dip tonight,' she told him. ‘They can become infected.'

‘Yes, I know, and I will. Now for some lunch, and then,' he sighed, ‘on with the search.'

Elly came out of her tent, refreshed after a long session in the water and clad only in shorts and a cool top, to find Mitchell waiting for her with a tube of antiseptic in his hand and no shirt on.

‘Do you mind doing this for me?' he asked, holding it out to her. ‘I can't reach them.'

‘Of course not.' She took the tube and squeezed a little out, dabbing some on each of the bites in turn. She couldn't help admiring his back as she worked. He really had a great physique, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. She felt the steel in his muscles as she worked and the smoothness of his tanned skin. Well, there was no harm in looking.

‘There, all done.' She handed the tube back to him.

‘Thanks, Nurse Cooper,' he joked as he took it from her before turning and going into his tent, to re-emerge seconds later pulling on a t-shirt.

The incident seemed to break the ice between them and, after their meal, which they took in turns each night to prepare, she didn't retreat to her tent to read by the light of a hurricane lantern as usual, but stayed seated at the small folding table and accepted the beer he offered her.

After all, she was probably reading too much into that kiss. It had only been a friendly act on his part, and she needed to be mature enough to accept the fact, and not act like a thwarted teenager.

‘So, no reading tonight?' he asked her.

‘No, it's much more pleasant out here than in the tent.'

‘What sort of books do you like reading? Have you been honing up on your science?'

Elly laughed. ‘No, nothing so studious. I've always been a reader, and I love a good mystery.'

‘Really?' His brows lifted slightly as he smiled. ‘Me too. Who's your favourite author?'

‘Probably Peter Robinson. I enjoy DCI Banks.'

‘Yes, me too. I also like some of the historical mysteries. You know, set in England in the 1800s. Policing was different in those days. No technology to help—all sheer hard work and deduction. Have you read any of those?'

‘No. But they sound interesting. I must try one. Who do you recommend?'

Mitchell rattled off some names, and they spent the rest of the night discussing books and authors.

From then on Elly found she was much more relaxed in Mitchell's company, and she found herself looking forward to the evenings when they sat talking companionably. Now she'd gotten over her silly idea that he might be interested in her, she believed she could accept him as a friend.

At the end of the first week they went into Cooktown for supplies, and it was as they came out of the supermarket that Mitchell's phone rang. When he listened to what was being said his face tightened and he ended the call with ‘I'm on my way' before ringing off.

‘My father's had a stroke,' he told Elly with a worried frown. ‘He's been taken to hospital and they're not sure how serious it is. My mother would like me at home, at least until they find out how bad it is. So it looks like we'll have to pack up and leave for a while. I'm sorry, Elly.'

‘Of course you must go, Mitchell. But there's no need for me to come. I'll stay here and continue on.'

Mitchell looked shocked. ‘On your own? There's no way you can camp out there on your own. It wouldn't be safe. I couldn't even consider leaving you behind.'

Elly's mind raced. She didn't want to give up now, but she didn't fancy camping in such a remote spot without him. Besides she knew he wouldn't agree to it. ‘I'll tell you what,' she told him. ‘I'll book into a hotel and rent a car until you know what you're doing. I can travel back and forth as I want, and I'll be quite safe.'

‘But you don't want to go into the forest on your own.'

‘I've been in the Daintree further down south on my own heaps of times. What's so different about up here?'

Mitchell didn't look convinced.

‘You can come with me while I pick up a rental car. And even see me safely into a pub, if you insist, and then you can head off, pack up the camp on your way, we wouldn't want to leave it there while you're away, and you can still be home later tonight.'

‘I don't know …'

‘Look, even if I only do a few hours a day, think how much further ahead we'll be.' She looked up at the lowering sky. ‘And we don't know when the weather's going to break, and then we're finished for who knows how long. I can't do any more at home now and I don't want to waste the time.'

‘But you don't have anything with you. You can't—'

Again she cut him off. ‘My pack's in the Cruiser, and I can pick up a change of clothes here in town. Come on, we're wasting time.'

Still he hesitated. 'Well, I'm not sure …'

‘I am,' she told him firmly, and headed for the car.

Mitchell followed with the bag of groceries and tossed them into the back.

He drove to a car hire depot and came in with Elly while she picked up a rental car, then he followed her as she drove to the Sovereign Hotel in Charlotte Street. He waited while she went inside and booked a room, and not until she came out and told him she had the key to her room, and was now going down the street to buy a change of clothes, did he agree to drive off and leave her.

Had he stayed longer he would have seen Elly walk back towards the hotel with her purchases and come face to face with a startled Jackson Lee.

Chapter 26

Elly stopped abruptly, her fists gripping the handles of her shopping bags as she stared in stunned surprise as the figure coming towards her halted. She felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of her.

Jackson Lee? Here in Cooktown? Could it really be? Yes, there was no mistaking that boyish look, the fair hair that flopped over his brow. He was sporting designer stubble now, but he was still instantly recognisable.

He took a tentative step towards her. ‘Elly?'

He reached a hand out towards her, and she jumped back as if she had been stung. Rage filled her, and she felt the blood pounding in her veins. ‘You … you … charlatan!' she spat at him. ‘Thief, liar, impostor!'

She looked around wildly. Mitchell, of course, had gone, and it would be too much to expect to see a policeman just now. In fact, apart from a woman walking a small white dog along the footpath on the opposite side of the road, there was no-one close by. A few cars were driving along the road, but that was no help to her.

He took another step towards her. ‘Elly,' he said again, ‘let me explain …'

‘There's nothing to explain. You're a liar and a thief. A Qantas pilot, indeed! You're a confidence trickster, that's what you are. You're not even Jackson Lee, your real name's Kincaid, and you're from New Zealand.'

‘No, Elly, no.' He was shaking his head. ‘You've got it all wrong. I know I lied to you about being a pilot, but the rest was true.'

‘How can you tell me that? You arranged that fake weekend in order to get me out of the way so you could steal my father's journal.'

He shook his head, looking bewildered. ‘No, no. I never stole anything from you. I'd never do anything to hurt you. I know I lied to you but …' He looked around wildly. ‘Look, we can't stand here talking. Please come and sit down and let me tell you everything.'

Elly drew a deep breath trying to calm down. He looked so stricken, his eyes gazing at her so beseechingly. Was there a chance they'd been mistaken, that he hadn't stolen the journal? But he didn't deny that he'd concocted the story of being a pilot. Why would he do that if it wasn't for some nefarious purpose? She decided she'd better hear what he had to say. They were almost at the hotel and they could sit outside on the terrace for a few moments while she listened to his story. There couldn't be any harm in that.

‘All right,' she snapped. ‘Come with me. I'll give you five minutes.'

She strode off and he followed her. Arriving at the hotel she made her way to the terrace and headed for the first available table, where she pulled out a chair and sat, indicating for Jackson to sit opposite her. Placing her bags on the chair next to her she leant back, folded her arms across her chest and looked at Jackson.

‘Well?'

He sat there looking down at his hands, like a child who'd been caught with his hand in the lolly jar. ‘This isn't easy for me.' He looked up at her, his eyes, those blue, blue eyes, full of contrition and pleading.

‘If you're not a pilot, what are you?'

‘That's just it. I'm a nobody. And when I met you, that first day in the library, I wanted to get to know you better, and I thought, a beautiful girl like you, you wouldn't be interested in a nobody.' His words came tumbling out now. ‘And when you agreed to have coffee with me, I told you I was a pilot, trying to impress you. And then, you see, I had to keep it up.' He paused, his eyes beseeching her to understand.

‘Go on.'

‘There was some truth in it,' he continued, his voice desperate. ‘I do fly. I've done crop dusting in Canada, but I'm not the sort of pilot I made myself out to be.'

‘But the stories you told me …'

‘I've bummed around the world a lot, seen and done a lot. Most of the stories were true, they just didn't happen the way I told you.' He looked down at his hands again, and there was a slight tremor in his voice when he resumed. ‘I know it's no use saying I'm sorry, but I am.' He looked up, and his eyes held hers, clear, guileless and troubled. ‘I'm sorry for deceiving you, but not for the rest. Not for continuing to see you, spending time with you. That was wonderful, and I'll never forget it. Never.'

Elly swallowed as she felt a lurching sensation in her stomach. But she still didn't quite believe him. She remembered her anguish over the weekend in Brisbane.

‘But why did you arrange the weekend away, and then not turn up?'

‘I had every intention of coming. That's why I arranged it. But when the time came I … well, I guess my conscience caught up with me.' He drew a deep breath. ‘I knew we'd end up in bed together. And I wanted it, desperately. By then, you see …' he paused, then took another breath and spread his hands on the table in front of him, and when he continued his voice was firmer.

‘By then I was head over heels in love with you. And being who I am, a nobody with no prospects, I knew there was no future for me with you. I was in an agony of indecision. One part of me wanted to go, to make love to you, to have a glorious weekend with you. And that's why I kept calling you with excuses. But the other part of me knew it was unfair to you. And finally I decided I should do the right thing and get out of your life. And that's what I did.'

Elly sat there silently, her emotions in turmoil as her eyes searched his face. His words held the ring of sincerity, but was he really telling the truth? Her mind went to the last time she had seen him, to when they'd sat together on the couch in her apartment. His passion as he kissed her had been real, but love or lust? How could she tell? And would he really have been so self-sacrificing as to walk out of her life if he genuinely loved her, as he said? She couldn't tell.

He was waiting for her to say something. But she couldn't give him the absolution he wanted. Not yet. She must probe deeper.

‘When I returned from that weekend, I knew someone had been in my place. I could tell. And then I discovered my father's journal was missing.' She looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘Did you take it?'

His eyes held hers steadily, the only reaction she could see was surprise. He shook his head. ‘No, Elly, no. I would never steal anything from you. You mean too much to me to do anything that might hurt you.' He paused, a slight frown creasing his forehead. ‘Besides, what use would it be to me? I'm not a chemist. I don't have any training like that. From what you told me of your father's work I wouldn't have a clue what it was all about.'

‘But your mother would.'

His eyes opened wide. ‘My mother? Well, I don't think so. She dabbles in herbs and oils and things, like I told you, but I think his stuff would be far beyond her.'

‘I see.' She changed tack. ‘So, what are you doing here in Cooktown?'

‘I had a bit of an accident a while ago, and I have to take it easy for a bit. I'm sort of recuperating.'

‘An accident? What, a road accident?'

‘No, I was working on a fishing trawler out of Darwin and I got tipped into the sea in a sudden surge. When I came up out of the water I thought about the sharks and the crocs in the water with me, and I hurt my back in my hurry to scramble back on board. Now I have to be a bit careful of it until it heals, and I decided to come here for a while to rest it.'

‘I see. If what you said about not coming on the weekend was true, I'm surprised you didn't decide to go back home to Canada.'

‘Oh, I thought about it. But—' he drew another breath, ‘—then I'd be on the other side of the world from you and … not that I ever expected to be with you … but at least, there was always a chance while I was still here … well, you never know, things could change for me. While in Canada … it's so far away …' his voice tailed off as he shrugged. ‘You're hard to forget, Elly,' he concluded.

Elly felt her throat tighten. He sounded so genuine, could she believe him? She knew the sensible thing to do would be to get up, walk away and call Mitchell. But Mitchell was needed at home. With his father in hospital he didn't need another distraction. Besides, what could he do from down there?