“Tell me what you know about Niall McEwen?”
Gabe seemed startled, although he took his time putting down his paper and looking up at her. “Probably as much as you.”
“Oh, come on, you’ve lived here all your life. I’ve only been here for four years. Youmustknow more than me.”
Gabe seemed to be gathering his thoughts. “Niall’s grandfather was the younger son of an aristocratic family in Scotland, and there’s some debate whether he came to Australia to make his fortune or because he was being disinherited for some misdemeanour. Anyway, it hardly mattered, because he struck it rich on the goldfields and used the money to buy land. Set himself up, and formed a dynasty.
“Niall was the favoured grandson. He was a bit of a scoundrel, with plenty of money and a handsome face and probably no one in his entire life had ever said no to him. So, when he set eyes onHelen, he wanted her, and for Niall that was it, really. He wanted her and so he had her.”
“Gabe, you make him sound appalling,” she laughed.
“Helen wasn’t as well bred as Niall, but far more respectable. She held out for marriage, and eventually he proposed. It was a big wedding.”
“You sound as if you didn’t like Helen,” Claire said.
Gabe looked down at his coffee cup. “Do I? My grandfather had a photograph of her in his desk drawer – I think he was half in love with her despite the fact she was long gone before he was born. She was beautiful, and she used her looks to get what she wanted. A bit like Niall used his charm. It made them well suited.”
“Was it a happy marriage?”
“Niall was a womanizer but despite that he always insisted he loved his wife. Then Helen disappeared. Vanished completely.”
“They searched?”
“Oh yes. Looked everywhere. The police believed she’d run off with a lover – although who that lover was was never discovered. But the people around here thought differently. A rumour started that Niall had murdered Helen and hid the body. The rumour was never substantiated but it was enough to make Niall’s life unbearable. He sold up and left the district. The valley was flooded and that was that.”
Claire was quiet, mulling over his words. She knew the story, of course, but somehow Gabe’s blunt retelling of it made it all more real to her. “What do you think happened to Helen?”
“I don’t know, Claire.” He was frowning, and now he pushed his coffee cup aside. “Why this sudden interest?”
Something stirred in her mind but she couldn’t grasp it. Tantalizingly it remained just out of reach. And there was that niggling feeling in her stomach again, that urge to find out what really happened. That sense that something wasn’t quite right.
Claire met Gabe’s intelligent eyes and for a moment she was strongly tempted to tell him what had happened last night, but almost immediately she knew she wouldn’t. Gabe was a rational man and what Claire had experienced, if it wasn’t an auditory hallucination, wasn’t rational.
“Last night I walked across the reservoir, closer to the homestead, and took some photos,” she admitted.
“By yourself?” Gabe’s frown deepened. “Claire, it’s dangerous out there!”
“I was alone.”
He shook his head. “That’s my point. You were alone and the ground is treacherous. You could have fallen . . . been hurt . . . anything.”
“I was fine,” Claire said firmly.
Gabe seemed to know it was time to back off. He rearranged his teaspoon. “Are they good?”
“The photos? I think so. I haven’t developed them yet.”
“Why don’t you use one for the front cover on Thursday?” A peace offering.
“Thanks. I will.”
Gabe nodded, and then his mouth quirked up into a smile. Claire smiled back. I do love him, she thought. That’s why I don’t want to burden him with any more of my problems.
“Do you still have your grandfather’s photo of Helen?” she said.
Gabe hesitated. “Somewhere.”
“I’d like to see it some day.”
