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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DAISY SAT ON the bed, head in her hands. It was late, past midnight. But there was no way she was going to sleep. Dale had shown her to the same room in the staff quarters as before. He’d hovered protectively in the doorway for a few minutes, until she quietly shooed him away, telling him she would be fine. Her bag sat unpacked at the end of the bed, because she had no strength to put away her clothes in the closet. Because doing so would mean admitting defeat. She’d turned out the bedside lamp, not wanting to disturb anyone else, and was now sitting in the dark.
Should she have revealed her secret to Dale? It’d do no good second-guessing herself now. He knew about her and River, and she had to mitigate the risk; make sure he told no one else. At the last second, she’d withheld the most vital bit of information. She was about to reveal River’s link to Karri and tell Dale that River had been sleeping with her, but something had made her keep her mouth shut. Perhaps she could feel Dale’s cynicism at her story, and knew if she mentioned Karri’s connection to River, then he’d want to believe River was involved in her murder somehow. Which he wasn’t, she was absolutely certain about that. At the same time, she needed to come up with some sort of plan for herself. Should she stay in the area, in case River reappeared?
Where had he gone? If only he’d waited to talk to her first. But then, that was River. Always jumping in feet first, and thinking later.
He’d been the same, even when he was little. But their parents always excused his behavior, justifying his pranks as just being a boy, and that was the way boys were supposed to behave. But the behavior continued, even after River was old enough to understand the consequences of his actions.
One time, when Daisy had confronted him, River had flown into a rage. He’d yelled that no matter what he did or how hard he tried, he could never live up to her eminence. She was the favorite child, and he was always overlooked by his parents.
He was only fifteen, and she’d been nineteen, old enough to know better. But the revelation of how he viewed her had cut deep. Because it simply wasn’t true. Was it? His words had needled at her psyche, and perhaps she’d come to believe them a little. It was possibly one of the drivers making her want to help her brother now. That guilty stab, every time River ended up in trouble or on the outs with their parents, she subconsciously felt was her fault. She’d begun using his own reasoning to excuse his destructive behavior. It’d been a bone of contention between them ever since. A simmering, unhealed sore, festering away.
Perhaps it was time she did something about it. When she saw River next—if she saw River—she decided she’d have it out with him once and for all. He needed to take responsibility for his own actions.
The sound of a voice outside the window made her lift her head from her hands. Daisy tilted her chin, straining to hear better. It sounded like a woman, the tone low and urgent. Perhaps speaking on a phone, because there was no other answering voice.
Who was out there at this time of night?
And was it really her problem?
The one-sided conversation continued in an indistinct murmur until curiosity got the better of Daisy. She tiptoed to the window. It was already open a crack, and she slid her fingers underneath the frame and lifted it slowly. It slid nearly a foot before the frame caught and made a small grinding noise. Instantly, Daisy stopped, yanking her fingers away. Had whoever out there heard her? Craning her neck to get as close to the opening as possible, she tuned in to the conversation. The person talking hadn’t paused in her discussion, and Daisy let out a quiet sigh of relief. They mustn’t have heard her stealthy window opening.
It took her a few seconds to figure out the voice was that of Sally Tsun. Even though the petite woman had spent most of her life in Australia, there was still a hint of a Vietnamese accent. Daisy dare not poke her head out the window to confirm her suspicion, however. Sally might see the movement, even in the darkness, and she’d give herself away.
“I can’t just up and leave. That’s the most stupid suggestion you’ve made yet,” Sally hissed. “Everyone would be immediately suspicious if I did that. We have to have a legitimate reason for me to leave.” Sally stopped speaking, and Daisy assumed she was listening to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “I don’t care what you think, Johnny. You’re the smart one. Come up with something and quick. Maybe my grandmother died, I don’t know.”
What was all that about? Who was Sally talking to?
Daisy strained to hear more of the conversation, but Sally must’ve moved towards the back corner of the building, and her voice became indistinct, a low buzz in the night air, and Daisy could make out no more.
That was odd. It sounded like Sally wanted to leave the station. She didn’t know the woman very well, but she’d never heard her mention Johnny before. Was he her boyfriend? Daisy didn’t blame Sally for wanting to get out. This whole murder situation was freaking everyone out. Dale had mentioned they’d had some cancelled bookings today, with guests deciding they didn’t want to holiday at an eco-resort that was under the cloud of a murder investigation. Daisy thought that was fair enough. But she couldn’t shake the feeling Sally was up to something. Perhaps she should mention it to Dale in the morning.
She stumbled toward the bed and lay on top of the covers, not even bothering to get undressed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but fatigue was dragging her muscles down. At least if she lay on the bed, it was a form of rest. She closed her eyes, but that was a mistake, because she was immediately bombarded by images. Not images of River, as she might’ve suspected, but images of Dale. Hovering over her, the night sky bright with hundreds of stars behind him, his eyes full of dark passion as he lowered his mouth to claim hers.
* * *
Daisy’s eyes sprang open. She’d fallen asleep. Although, she didn’t know how that’d happened. A pale streak of light peeked in beneath the curtains. It must be early. There was a knock at her door. Was that the sound that’d woken her in the first place?
“Come in,” she croaked, rolling over and sitting up. The door cracked open, and Dale put his head in.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake,” he said apologetically.
“I can’t believe I actually fell asleep. What time is it?”
“It’s only five-thirty. The sun isn’t even up yet. But that’s good you got some rest.”
“Yes.” She nodded, dragging a hand through her tangled mat of hair. Sheesh, she must look a mess.
“Steve called an early staff meeting this morning. He wants to address a few of the issues and rumors that’ve been going around, before the guests get up. You know…about the murder.” Dale still hesitated over the word. Even now, none of them truly wanted to admit that one of their own had been murdered. “I thought you might like to come along. Then you can spend the day with me. I’m taking a group of guests over to the old mine site. Skylar will have breakfast ready for us,” he added as extra incentive.
“That’d be great,” she answered quickly. Any information she could garner at the moment would be helpful. Perhaps Steve might have more information from the police about who the prime suspects were. Plus, the call of Skylar’s cooking could not be ignored. “Give me two minutes to get changed.”
“Good.” He pulled the door shut behind him, and Daisy quickly dug into her bag, grabbing the first clean outfit she could lay her hands on.
Stripping off her clothes, she chucked them in a heap next to the bag. Then, as she reached for a fresh bra and panties, she stopped. It was strangely erotic, her standing naked in the middle of the room, while Dale was right outside, only a flimsy piece of wood between them. A part of her wanted to open the door and invite him in. Wanted to see the flare of hunger in his eyes when he saw her standing there. Exposed and unguarded.
Last night she’d been so sure it was the last time she’d see Dale. And now she’d been given another chance, but wasn’t sure what to do with the opportunity. The pull of him was strong. Even through the door she could feel his presence. What was she supposed to do with this gigantic pile of steaming emotions?
