Page 77 of This Time Around

“Come on, Bennett. You specialise in family law. Divorces and child custody disputes were your bread and butter. You have to have had some clients who weren’t completely happy with your work. Is it possible someone’s trying to hurt you by hurting Jane?”

A chill swept over Rafe’s skin and he gritted his teeth against the sensation of dread coiling in his gut. Was it possible this was actually about him and not Jane?

Shit.

Chapter Sixteen

The thought someone might be after Rafe and not Jane had never even entered her head. It should have. He was a lawyer, and lawyers were never at the top of anyone’s list of favourite people.

But even now, as they drove around Maroochydore on the hunt for a new family car, she couldn’t think of why anyone would want to harm him.

Except maybe Patricia Leighton for what he’d said to her in the patisserie. But as bitchy and entitled as the woman was, even she wasn’t arrogant enough to think she could get away with arson.

Jane frowned. Was Rafe the real target? He didn’t seem to think he was, but he’d not dismissed the idea completely when Scott had brought it up.

“Not if keeping an open mind means keeping you and the baby safe,” he’d said, as they’d sat around the kitchen table. He’d followed that with, “They must be staying somewhere in town. Think about it. Melville’s Cross is twenty minutes off the highway and thirty minutes from the closest neighbouring town. If they were staying somewhere else they’d need a car. And this is asmalltown. Everyone notices when a new car drives down Main Street.”

“Makes sense,” Scott said. “We figured the only way they could be getting in and out undetected, is if they’re on foot. But we’ve already checked with all the rental cottages, the boarding house, the bed and breakfast and anyone who lists their property on Airbnb, and no luck. No one has rented to anyone new in weeks.”

Then Jane had suggested, “What if they’re squatting?”

Scott and James had looked at each other then, and shared some sort of non-verbal communication between father and son. Jane had felt as if she were watching the twins. Charlie and Toby could have entire conversations with little more than a mouth twitch and a subtle shifting of their eyebrows.

“Would explain why we haven’t seen anynewcars,” Scott had eventually said.

If someone was squatting in Melville’s Cross, they’d have their pick of houses. Several of their more well-to-do citizens lived in the city during the week and only came home on the weekends. Others only came to town during the holidays, leaving their beautifully furnished houses, complete with million dollar views of the mountains, a fully stocked pantry and even occasionally their spare car, sitting vacant.

Just waiting for an opportunistic terrorist to take up residence.

The result of their conversation was to test their theory, hence why Rafe and Jane were spending their Sunday driving around the Sunshine Coast.

To see if anyone followed them.

Rafe had made his misgivings about the plan well and truly known when he’d said he’d much prefer locking her safely in their room and letting the police handle it. But Jane was determined not to live in fear. She’d already lost so much.

She wasn’t losing her freedom too.

Scott promised not to let either of them out of his sight, just in case it was Rafe the mystery person was after, and not Jane. And while they were driving around, floating from one car dealership to the next, test-driving SUVs and keeping their eyes peeled for anyone suspicious, James was helping the young police constable back in Melville’s Cross, checking out potential squats under the guise of performing fire safety checks.

“The car comes with six airbags, reverse driving camera plus front and rear climate control, heated seats—which admittedly is more of a luxury for the southern states—a spacious boot, and a ten inch touchscreen display.”

Jane was so focussed on looking for something—anything—out of the ordinary, she’d almost forgotten the car sales guy was in the car with them.

Thankfully Rafe was on the ball. “Baby? Whaddaya think?”

Something in her brain clicked when he said the word “baby” and she remembered the other plan they’d made. Shoving aside her anxiety over what insanity their faceless foe would throw at them next, she focussed on the matter at hand.

It was time to bring her ditzy alter-ego out to play.

“So I can connectanysmartphone to this, right?” she said, pointing at the touchscreen like her manicure was still wet. “I don’t need a specific brand of phone? Because that wouldtotallybe a deal breaker for me.”

Rafe made a choking sound then cleared his throat to hide his laughter.

“Yes, any recent make or model smartphone will work,” the salesman assured her, somehow managing to make his voice sound both flirty and condescending at the same time, a trait Jane had thought, until now, unique only to the Chef de Cuisine.

Jane continued asking questions, gauging the salesman’s answers against what she’d already researched, all while Rafe drove the SUV around the block and back to the dealership.

When he parked the car where the sales guy indicated and killed the engine, he stared at Jane, his amusement clear in his deep blue eyes. “Well?”

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