KOTBChapter Two The Whitsundays ... |
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The nightmare wrenched Jo awake like a slap in the face. She choked back the cry on her lips and sat bolt upright, the sheets clinging uncomfortably to the light sheen of sweat on her body. It took a moment to wake completely but once she shook off the last remnants of sleep Jo slumped forwards, her face in her hands, elbows on knees. A splash of moonlight fell across her, turning her tousled black hair silver. "Jesus Christ," she muttered. She took several deep breaths in an effort to stop her heart from beating its way out of her chest. It took all her concentration to fight down the panic and rising bile in her throat. She groaned again as flashes of the recurring dream images burned across the back of her eyes. Oh, that had been a nasty one. Muffled incoherent noises to her right stopped her short and Jo cursed when she recognised the lump under the bedclothes next to her as the woman she'd met in KC's Bar and Grill on the main drag of Airlie Beach last night. Several stubbies of cider and a bottle of red had convinced Jo that some company was in order, apparently. She couldn't remember much about it, she admitted to herself guiltily. Not even … God, what was her name? Jo shook her head at her own lack of good sense and clambered out of bed. And more to the point, what the hell was I thinking bringing her back here? Now I'm stuck with her till at least breakfast, she thought despondently as she silently padded across the polished wooden floor through to the living area. She muffled another curse as she stubbed her toe on the cat's water dish on the way to the fridge. She hopped the rest of the way and balanced on the open door as she surveyed the contents by the internal light. One can of Coke left. Time to go grocery shopping. Jo withdrew the can and cracked the seal as she wandered to the glass wall overlooking her particular patch of paradise. She quietly slid open the glass door that led to the verandah and moved outside. Jo had done all right for herself in the five years since the cold night when she had snuck out of Sydney after her brief, but fiery argument with Det. Harding. She'd sought some peace and quiet by coming up to Far North Queensland, to the Whitsundays, a long, idyllic group of islands just inside the Great Barrier Reef off Airlie Beach and Shute Harbour. Here she'd found a community of like-minded folk who let her be when she needed isolation, and who made her welcome when she needed to feel a part of the human race again. Not that they were all ex-assassins. She smiled wryly at the thought. But many of the people here were refugees from big-city life who came north to try a get-rich-quick scheme in the tourist mecca of the Whitundays, or were just looking for a simpler life. And cheaper dope, she reminded herself with a smile. She'd stayed pretty clear of that scene though - too many bad memories. She wasn't averse to a party, the evidence of which was snoring softly in her bed, but an alcoholic haze was the only form of oblivion she felt safe with these days, and that pretty rarely. The last five years had been good ones, she decided. Lonely, yes, directionless, sure, but at least she could sleep at night and she was earning an honest living. Not that she really needed to. A decade spent in the darkness of Sydney's underworld had left Jo a rich woman thanks to a couple of wise offshore investments. Contrition had stopped her from touching those funds, however, except in one respect. The house high on the hill above Shute Harbour had called to her like no other place she'd ever lived in. Nestled into lush rainforest on the side of the slope, the house was built of jarrah logs and made the most of the sensational views of the islands by being almost all glass on its east-facing side. It had cost the earth, but Jo hadn't hesitated for a second, deciding the isolation and panorama were more than worth it. There were no neighbors in either direction for miles, she was just a 10-minute drive from the dock itself, and the forest around her was laced with narrow dirt tracks she used for running and getting up close and personal with the abundant wildlife in this part of the world. And there were worse things than being hidden away in the jungle. Jo had never been too worried about her former bosses and adversaries coming after her after her disappearance from Sydney, even though they had every reason to hate her. She knew she could handle anyone who got close enough to threaten her. She'd invested in a top-drawer security system and had made a concerted effort to get on with her life as if she'd never been a drug lord's hired killer. Even now, the thought made her shake her head. Another life, she pondered. One I don't ever want to go back to or be reminded of. Which was why the dreams were such a pain in the subconscious. Jo settled into the rattan chair on the verandah and put her feet up on the top rail. It was hot as only a north Queensland January night could be, damp heat wrapping round her naked body like a wet blanket. There wasn't a zephyr of a breeze. It's a gorgeous night, Jo thought. The moon was full and the skies cloudless so a silver sheen splashed across the Whitsunday Passage and Shute Harbour like a shimmering blanket. It made her smile quietly. She'd never really known what peace was until she came here. It was hard to be tense when you were surrounded by total beauty like this surreal landscape. It hadn't stopped the nightmares though. Jo sighed as memories of the dream intruded. It was pretty much as it had always been. Horrible images from a night that had changed her life.
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