The Temptation Test Page 7

  ‘Do you know anything about him?’ Jena asked.

  Noah shook his head.

  ‘The camping ground is within the national park so there are no people living there permanently, but a lot of the backpackers who come to town to earn a bit of travelling money, picking fruit or vegetables, set up their tents out here. They prefer it to the lodges in town.’

  ‘So it’s unlikely the family are alone in the park?’

  ‘Most unlikely!’ Noah said grimly. ‘Though I imagine the police will clear the area as soon as they arrive.’

  ‘As soon as they arrive?’ his passenger repeated. ‘They’re not there?’

  ‘Mac Talbot, the park ranger, phoned them first and then me. I’d say, even allowing for getting some clothes on, I’m still at least ten, maybe fifteen minutes ahead of them.’

  The sound of shots suddenly rang through the air, unmistakable as being anything but gunfire, the noise itself a violent intrusion in so peaceful a place. His own nerves leapt and he sensed a tensing in his passenger, but she didn’t scream or show any other indication of fear or hysteria.

  He turned on his headlights now, and drove more swiftly, leaving the beach where a faint smudge of a track led beneath the low-hanging branches of a pandanus palm.

  The scene at the park, lit by the headlights of a high-set four-wheel-drive utility, was like a surreal painting. One family-sized nylon tent, bravely blue and orange, was in the foreground while a scatter of smaller one- and two-man tents seemed to be shrinking away from it, as if trying to disappear into the bushes.

  Shadowy figures moved on the fringes of the scene, and from the tent came the sound of a woman sobbing.

  Noah pulled up beside the utility and leant out the window to speak to its driver.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘We don’t know. The family have been here for three days—planning to stay on till Christmas. Mrs McDonald went to town today, left her husband with the kids. She came back about half an hour ago, went into the tent and the next thing we knew there’s crying and screaming.’

  The man rubbed his hand across his face.

  ‘The young people were all coming back from work so I thought I’d better quieten things down. I went across and called out—not wanting to intrude by going into the tent—and he came out with a gun and told me to get the hell away, then went back inside.’

  ‘And since then? The gunshots?’

  Jena saw the man’s shoulders lift and he raised his hands from the wheel in a helpless gesture.

  ‘It was getting dark so after I phoned you and the police I thought I’d move the car a bit closer so I could call out to him—to them.’

  Jena imagined the scene—the frightened ranger, anxious for the children, but not wanting to approach on foot.

  ‘He didn’t react to the car engine, but another car drove in about then and the headlights seemed to trigger something. That’s when the shots rang out.’

  ‘Someone might be injured in there,’ Noah said. ‘I’ll have to get closer and ask.’

  Jena curbed an urge to hold him back, while the ranger looked doubtful.

  ‘Perhaps you should wait for the police…’

  ‘By which time it could be too late,’ Noah told him grimly. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t take any unnecessary risks.’

  He opened the door, and the click of the catch releasing, muted though it was, seemed to echo through the park.

  ‘Be careful,’ Jena whispered, and before he slid out into the night, he reached across and patted her hand.

  ‘I will. I’m no hero.’

  Then he vanished into darkness and Jena realised the ranger had turned off his headlights. Noah must have doused his as they drove up, for the camp site was nothing more than inky shadows.

  As her eyes adjusted, though, she made out movement and realised Noah was approaching the tent from one side. When he was about twenty metres away, she heard his voice.

  ‘Is everyone all right in there? I’m a doctor so please call out if you need help.’

  A high-pitched wail greeted this request, rising so eerily into the night air that Jena found herself shivering. Lights and the hum of engines suggested more cars on the way. Police?

  Or more unsuspecting campers returning to their tents?

  Noah was moving closer, his voice audible although the words were indistinguishable, as if whatever he was saying was intended only for those inside the family’s tent.

  ‘He’s going to go in,’ Jena whispered, horrified to think he’d be so foolhardy but understanding his motives. The thought that a child might lie injured in there had her out of the car now, and was already propelling her feet towards the shadows.

  ‘I’m coming in,’ she heard him say, his voice steadily reassuring, but as he left the deeper shadows of the trees to move towards the front entrance of the tent the other cars arrived, their headlights once again illuminating the scene and throwing Noah’s body into bright relief. The perfect target.

  Jena stifled the scream which choked her throat, but the ranger must have given an order for the lights went out immediately, leaving not only darkness but no sign of Noah.

  Then she heard his voice, coming from inside the tent.

  ‘Hush now,’ he was saying gently. ‘Everything will be all right. You’re sure none of you are hurt? Have you got a lamp, a torch? I’d like to check the children.’

  Jena moved closer, walking in as a light came on and the woman said, ‘He wouldn’t have hurt us—not me or the children. He loves us. He was upset, that’s all. He hadn’t told us, see, and it was eating and eating away at him and today he had a few beers while I was in town and it all got too much for him.’

  Noah was kneeling on the ground, one arm around the woman, while two blonde-headed little girls, their eyes wide with shock, nestled in her lap.

  ‘He’s gone,’ Noah said to Jena. ‘I suppose we should tell the police.’

  But he didn’t move and Jena, hearing more of the woman’s rambling explanation about termination payments paying for the holiday, understood Noah’s motives.

  Left alone, the man might calm down, but if chased or hunted through the scrub, who knew what might happen?

  The arrival of a tall policeman took the decision to tell or not tell out of their hands, but as both the children burst into tears at the sight of him, Noah motioned to Jena to take his place beside the woman. Rising to his feet, he led the policeman out of the tent.

  While comforting the woman, Jena pieced together the story of the man who’d worked in the same factory for fifteen years then, two days before taking his Christmas leave, had been told he’d been made redundant.

  ‘I didn’t even know he had a gun,’ the woman, whom Jena now knew as Rose, said. Looking around the spacious tent as she listened to the tale, Jena solved the mystery of the man’s disappearance. As well as a hole in the tent-roof, where he’d obviously fired the gun in frustrated rage, there was a long rip from floor to roof in the rear wall.

  ‘He did that with a knife,’ Rose told her, and Jena shivered, thinking of the desperate man, alone in the darkness but armed with both a gun and a knife.

  Noah reappeared.

  ‘The police will need to talk to you,’ he said, squatting down near Rose again, although the position must have been agonising for someone so tall. ‘But I’ve suggested they do it at my place. It’s just along the beach a little way and I’ve room for all of you. We’ll leave a note here for your husband in case he comes back, explaining where you are.’

  Noah indicated the torn nylon.

  ‘You’ll be eaten alive by mosquitoes if you stay here. He’ll understand, and Jena, who’s a nurse, will be there in case you or the children need anything.’

  Jena raised a mental eyebrow at the job description, but understood Noah was underlining her presence in order to reassure the woman. She’d have argued about the assumption that she’d spend the night at his place, only there was no way she’d be game to return to Matt
’s until the man was found. Which, for his sake as well as his family’s, would hopefully be soon.

  ‘Do you want me to write the note?’ Noah’s question, directed at Rose, brought Jena’s mind back to the present. She watched the easy way he moved, leaning over to pick up a writing pad and coloured pencil one of the children must have been using earlier.

  Rose nodded, and clasped the children more closely, then changed her mind.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ she said, reaching out around the children for the notepad. The little ones snuggled closer to their mother. Jena guessed their ages at about two and three. Would they remember this later? Would the short but potent drama played out in their presence come back to haunt them?

  ‘All we can do is offer comfort and security,’ Noah said quietly, while the woman wrote in big letters on the pad.

  ‘Tell him it’s the doctor’s place, about four hundred metres east along the beach. Tell him I’ll leave the front light on so he can find it easily.’

  ‘I’ll have to leave a light on here as well, so he sees the note,’ Rose said, and Noah nodded and set the camping lamp with its long fluorescent tube down beside the note. He cleared clothes and towels from around it so it would be the first thing anyone entering the tent, either from the front or from the new rear entrance, would see.

  Jena gathered up some clothes for the children, and found a cotton nightdress with a bear printed on it which she assumed was Rose’s. She wrapped these in the towel, then found a small backpack and popped her collection into it, adding a small plastic-lined toothbrush bag containing soap and four toothbrushes.

  ‘Do you need tablets or anything else for overnight?’ she asked Rose, showing her what she’d already packed.

  Rose passed the two children to Jena to cuddle and dived behind a small partition, returning with a pack of disposable nappies. She was obviously feeling better to be able to think of them.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Noah said, and Jena lifted the older child while Rose picked up the little one. They followed Noah over to the Jeep where Jena helped strap all three of them into the back seat.

  ‘You’re inviting him to attack you,’ the senior policeman warned Noah, when the family had been settled in his car and he was confirming arrangements for the authorities to interview the woman.

  ‘I doubt he’s dangerous. He’d been bottling up all his anger over his redundancy and something made him snap today. His wife thinks it might have been a letter she picked up at the post office. Maybe it’s still in the tent.’

  The policeman nodded, but he had enough sensitivity to wait until Noah had driven away before heading for the tent to check it out. As lights came on around the camp, Jena saw his silhouette as he slipped inside.

  ‘We’re having barbecued chicken for tea,’ Noah remarked, though Jena knew from the way his eyes probed the darkness he was more concerned about the missing man than what they were about to eat. ‘Do you like chicken?’

  Silence from the back seat.

  Jena turned to smile reassuringly at Rose but she, too, was scanning the dark bush outside the vehicle. She probably hadn’t even heard the question. And although her arms held the two children tucked against her side, Jena knew her attention was focussed on her husband—and the dread his absence must be causing.

  As they pulled up outside Noah’s place, Jena slid out of the car and opened the back door to lift out one of the children.

  ‘Wait here!’ Noah whispered to her. ‘I don’t think he’d come into a house that’s obviously occupied but I’d better check.’

  ‘Check how?’ Jena whispered right back. ‘By walking in and waiting for him to blast you with his gun?’

  Noah touched her arm, a gesture he doubtless meant to be reassuring.

  All it did was string Jena’s nerves tighter.

  ‘I’ll just turn on lights,’ he told her. ‘I’ve a master switch for the outside floodlights and the living-room light. It’s in the shed, so when I come here late at night I don’t have to fumble around in the dark.’

  He moved away from her and seconds later soft light flooded the grass.

  No sound came from the house—until Noah called from the verandah.

  ‘Come on in. The fire’s gone out but I’ll cook inside.’

  Jena lifted the child closest to her and settled the little one on her hip then, with her free hand, she snagged the bag she’d packed.

  ‘Come on, Rose. Come inside. I’ll fix you a hot drink—and something for the children. It must be nearly their bedtime.’

  Jena waited for the woman to move, then walked with her to the house. Concerned about the children’s unresponsive silence, she asked their names.

  ‘The one you’re carrying is Ruby and this one’s Lily,’ Rose told her, but when Jena said hello to Ruby, dropping a kiss on the little girl’s blonde head, Rose laughed.

  The harsh sound held absolutely no mirth and was so incongruous Jena was shocked. Then she saw the tears coursing down Rose’s cheeks.

  ‘She’s deaf. They’re both deaf,’ the woman sobbed. ‘They need so much, so many extra things, and then there’s the money for the new cochlear implants—that’s why Greg’s so upset.’

  Jena wondered how heavy a human heart could get as she drew Ruby closer, pressing more kisses on the child’s soft skin—offering silent reassurance in the only way she knew.

  They walked inside, Jena expecting to see Noah, but the living area was empty.

  She felt a sense of loss, as if he’d deserted her to deal with her spiralling emotions alone.

  ‘Look what I found.’

  He appeared from the breezeway, a wicker hamper in his arms.

  ‘Toys! My parents keep them here for grandchildren and other small visitors. Here!’

  He set the basket in the middle of the floor and opened the lid, revealing a kaleidoscope of bright blue, red, green and yellow—the vivid colour mix of any number of toys thrown in on top of each other.

  ‘If you watch the kids I’ll get Rose helping in the kitchen,’ he murmured to Jena, who had already pulled a soft clown doll from the basket and was waggling it temptingly in front of Ruby.

  Rose set Lily down on the other side of the basket and once Ruby’s chubby hands had taken hold of the clown, Jena found other toys to offer Lily.

  The police arrived as they finished eating, and Jena offered to shower the children while Rose spoke to them.

  Rose looked doubtful for a moment, then signed something to the little girls who both smiled as they looked at Jena. She held out her hands and they latched on, making her feel slightly less concerned about how much the drama had affected them.

  Although who would ever know?

  She realised the shower stall had obviously been set up with children in mind, with a hand-held spray which she could use to wet and rinse the little bodies. When she was done, she wrapped them in soft fluffy towels and held them close, wondering if the interview was over.

  ‘I’ve got their nappies and some clothes,’ she heard Rose say, and looked up to see the woman in the doorway.

  The children immediately discarded their towels and flung their little naked bodies into their mother’s arms. Sensing that the normality of readying the children for bed might be therapeutic, Jena let them go, staying behind to pick up the towels. She found a mop behind the door, and ran it over the floor to clean up the worst of the mess.

  Though there was little she could do to dry herself. Her sodden shirt clung to her body, revealing the line and colour of the swimsuit she still had on underneath.

  But the fine material did nothing to hide her nipples, puckered from the dampness, or the shape of her body, where the wet shirt clung.

  ‘Damn!’ she muttered at what she could see of her reflection in the small mirror.

  ‘Not to worry, the policeman’s gone. No one will see you.’

  Noah’s voice made her turn, and the look in his eyes as he took in her dishevelled appearance made a mockery of his ‘no one’ assertion. />
  It also made her shiver.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JENA followed Noah back to the living room, where the two couches had been turned into double beds and a swag, the great Australian invention of bedding packed in a water-resistant outer oilskin, was spread on the floor.

  ‘I thought it might be more reassuring for Rose if we all bunked in together in the same room,’ Noah explained. ‘She’s happy to share one of the beds with the children, and you can take the other. I’m used to the swag.’

  Jena didn’t bother protesting, knowing she wasn’t likely to win—and not averse to a night on something softer than the old stretcher at Matt’s. She’d have liked a change of clothes, a comb and a toothbrush, but she could hardly ask Noah to escort her home for such trivialities—for one thing, he couldn’t leave Rose and the children—and there was no way she was facing the darkness on her own.

  Rose settled the children into bed, then headed for the shower.

  ‘Is she all right?’ Jena asked Noah, when the woman was out of hearing.

  ‘She’s worried sick about her husband, and upset he didn’t feel able to tell her about his job loss. I imagine they’d only just come to terms with having not one but two children born with a hearing impairment, now this on top of it.’

  Jena shook her head, unable to imagine the emotional upheaval such knowledge must have caused the couple.

  ‘Did she talk about the children’s future? She mentioned implants earlier…’

  Noah didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned down the light in the living room then took Jena’s arm and led her out onto the breezeway.

  ‘I’ve got mosquito coils burning out here so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable to sit here for a while.’

  The moon had risen, casting its silvery light over the bush, revealing the shape of chairs. Jena settled herself in one, and waited. She should have felt nervous, or at least on edge, with an armed man somewhere out there in the darkness, but somehow she couldn’t believe the distraught husband and father would harm anyone, so all she felt was a little edgy about sharing the moonlight with Noah Blacklock.