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CHAPTER ONE
LACEY LET OUT a frustrated grunt. “Stupid freaking thing. Why can’t you have the engine in the front like every other car?” She straightened from where she’d been peering into the rear of her VW van and let out a yelp of pain as she banged her head on the hatch. “Ow.” She kicked out at the left tire in frustration, nearly dropping her phone in the process. “Stupid freaking thing,” she repeated, yelling now. But there was no one around to hear; this little town in the middle of nowhere was completely deserted.
Flicking off the flashlight app on her phone, she went to stand at the front of her van and take in some deep, calming breaths. Losing her temper would get her nowhere. Pulling her jacket tight around herself, she let the cold breeze wash over her face, cooling her anger. The wind whipped her long blonde hair around her face and she swiped at it angrily. Capturing a handful, she tried to hold on to her wayward locks.
Perhaps she should’ve paid more attention when Matt was lecturing her about the dos and don’ts of VW maintenance. But she’d been so pleased with her purchase of the remodeled Kombi camper van that she’d been too busy running her adoring gaze over the sleek lines and lovely caramel interior color scheme to listen properly as her older brother talked about air-cooled engines and other uninteresting finer points of what went wrong with these cars.
It’d been a spur-of-the-moment decision. She’d seen the Kombi advertised on a flyer stuck to a lamp pole as she’d been walking down the street near her family home in Melbourne and instantly fallen in love with it. Fallen in love with the idea of the freedom and chance to escape that the van offered. And she’d so desperately needed to get away it’d seemed like the perfect solution at the time. The man who’d sold her the van told her he called her Dotti, and Lacey liked the name so much she kept it. She’d never named a car before, but this cute van with its quirky character and air of joie de vivre seemed to need a name. So it stuck. And it seemed silly not to, as the van even came with a personalized number plate that read DOTTI33.
She sighed and leaned her butt against the front bumper. Poor Dotti; she shouldn’t really blame the car. It was her own fault that she was stuck here. If she’d only stopped in Wynyard for the night instead of deciding to push through after dark, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Her destination was supposed to be a small town called Stanley, another forty minutes up the road. She had a powered site booked at the Stanley Tourist Park, but she’d become sidetracked in this cute-as-a-button town called Penguin back down the road and had lost all track of time. There’d been a giant statue of a penguin, and more penguins painted on the side of the garbage bins, as well as wall-art featuring penguins everywhere. Then she’d just had to duck into the Penguin Café to warm up with a coffee and some hot chips slathered with tomato sauce.
Lacey lifted her head and stared out at the night-dark beach. A lone Norfolk Island Pine formed a tall, dark shadow against the inky-blue ocean, its scarecrow branches reaching for the sky, the scene lit by a half-moon rising behind her.
It looked like Boat Harbour Beach might be a gorgeous little bay in summer. Mimicking a wineglass in shape, it’d be protected from the booming waves and howling wind by the headland jutting out into the ocean. But right now, it was cold, deserted, and a tad spooky. Everyone who lived in this small community would most likely be tucked safely in their warm beds. A twinkle of lights stretched out around the bay like a line of fireflies. For a brief second, Lacey wished so hard that she could be one of those people, secure in the knowledge that they were safe in their homes; that they knew where they belonged and had a life mapped out ahead of them. While she was stuck here in this cold, damp parking lot, trying to fix her car. Trying to figure out where she was headed next. Trying to put her life back together.
Her van had started to make coughing noises a few miles up the road. Then it’d started doing funny little stuttering bunny hops, losing power for a few seconds then surging forward again. Lacey had decided to take the turn into Boat Harbour Beach, because it was better than breaking down in the middle of the deserted highway. She’d nursed her van past the small township and into the parking lot at the end of the road, where her Kombi had finally died with a dramatic, loud splutter. A street light cast a weak glow over what looked to be a café at the other end of the lot, but it was all closed up for the night, and there were no other shops or even houses down here.
Lacey stared out at the waters of Bass Strait back toward the mainland. Technically, Tasmania was situated in the Indian Ocean, but as Lacey was learning, the locals were an unconventional bunch and loved to highlight their differences from the mainland. Depending on which local you talked to, she could also be looking at the Southern Ocean, or the Tasman Sea; it was all a bit fluid where these oceans were concerned. One thing she knew for a fact, at the other end of the island there was nothing between them and Antarctica, except a lot of wild, deep ocean and some equally wild weather.
What had she been thinking? Traveling around Tasmania in the middle of winter. She was beginning to regret her decision to keep going, even as the temperature had dropped. The past few months had been spent exploring the area around Hobart and along the wild and isolated east coast. But winter had set in hard down there. Lacey had thought perhaps driving to the northern end of the island might save her from freezing to death, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The alternative—heading home to Melbourne where her mother was just waiting to sayI told you so—held even less allure, however.
Even her sheepskin-lined jacket was no match for the cold sea breeze, which was working its way in through the crevices, down her neck, and up her wrists where the sleeves gaped a little. Shivering, she returned to the back of her van and turned on her flashlight again. One last attempt to figure out what was wrong with her vehicle. Otherwise, she’d be spending the night in this lonely little parking lot, even though the signs screamed, NO CAMPING - FINES IMPOSED, she’d have little choice in the matter. At least she’d have a warm bed to snuggle up in, and she could boil the kettle on her little gas cooker to make a cup of tea. There was a cupboard full of instant noodles which would have to do for dinner.
Peering into the engine bay, she poked at a rubber hose. Was it supposed to hang like that? Maybe it was loose. Maybe she should—
A noise alerted her to a human presence standing right behind her, even before a large hand grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Hey, do you—”
She didn’t wait for him to finish speaking—part of her had registered the deep, male voice and knew she was in danger—she reacted with lightning speed, her muscles remembering the defensive maneuver even before her mind could fully comprehend what was happening.
Half turning toward the shadowy figure behind her, she covered the hand that was on her shoulder with one of her own, grabbed a handful of his collar with the other, shoved her shoulder into his chest, bent her knees, swept her foot backward to knock his feet out from under him, and proceeded to execute a perfect single arm shoulder throw.
The man landed on the gravelly ground with a loud grunt of surprise. But she didn’t wait for her assailant to get up. As he rolled onto his side, she put a boot into his ribs and another in his face. This time he howled with pain and rage. The only way to stop an attacker bigger and stronger than yourself was to take them down hard. Give them no chance to fight back. She might be petite and look like easy prey to this asshole, but he was about to find out he’d chosen the wrong target.
She moved in closer to aim another kick to his head. Just as she raised her foot, his hand shot out and grabbed her by the ankle and she nearly lost her balance, resorting to hopping on one foot to stay upright.
“Hey,” he shouted. “Stop it. I was only trying to help.”
“Yeah, sure you were,” she yelled but a tiny flicker of doubt crept up her spine. She couldn’t see much in the dark; all she knew was he was big, tall and muscled. If he were to get the better of her now, she wouldn’t stand a chance. She couldn’t let him talk her out of this. Disable the criminal first, ask questions later, that was the way it had to be.
“If you’ll just stop attacking me for two seconds, I can explain.”
Not likely,she thought, then dropped both knees onto the man’s side, hearing the satisfying sound of the air whooshing out of his lungs.
“Right, that’s it,” the man growled, and suddenly she found herself flat on her back in the dirt.
Oh, shit.
She struggled, trying to lift her knee to smack it into his balls, but he was too heavy. Lifting a hand, she went to scratch at his eyes, but with another grunt, he pinned her wrist to the ground.
“Stop, will you?” he commanded. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
What did he mean? Of course he wanted to hurt her. He was merely bluffing, to get her under control. Well, two could play at that game. “Get off me, then,” she yelled, hoping to buy some time. “I won’t hurt you anymore either,” she lied.
“Look, lady, I was only trying to help.” The man lifted his head and stared down at her, the moonlight shadows playing over the planes of his face. He never loosened his steely grip on her for one second, and she could feel every inch of his muscular body pressing down on top of her. “I’m a cop. I saw that you’d broken down, and I came over to lend a hand, that’s all. So, if you’ll stop trying to kill me, I’ll let you up.”
He was what? A cop?She didn’t believe him. Not for a second. But… There was something niggling at the back of her mind that might disagree.
