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A Child in Need
Marion Lennox


What can the small Australian town of Bay Beach offer an ambitious city lawyer like Nick Daniels? Well, first there's Shanni McDonald - a gorgeous, vivacious woman Nick is instantly attracted to. Second, there's tiny, vulnerable Harry - a three-year-old child from the orphanage, desperately in need of love.Nick is wary of commitment, but Shanni and Harry have decided that Nick is the man for them. All they have to do is persuade him!












“Were you beaten as a child?” Shanni asked—and waited.


“Yes,” Nick said harshly.

“Nick—”

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. If I’m not over it now I never will be.”

“I don’t think you can ever be over something like that. Kids can bounce back from a hard time—but if they don’t think they’re loved….”

“Harry will be okay.”

She hadn’t been talking about Harry—but now she turned to look down at the sleeping little boy.

“I guess.” She smiled and turned back to Nick. “If you stay on his side….”

“Hey, I’m committing myself to nothing here.”

“You’re already committed.”







Families in the Making!

In the orphanage of a small Australian seaside town called Bay Beach are little children desperately in need of love. Some of them have no parents, some are simply unwanted—but each child dreams about having their own family someday….

The answer to their dreams can also be found in Bay Beach! Couples who are destined for each other—even if they don’t know it yet—are brought together by love for these tiny children. Can they find true love themselves—and finally become a real family?

Look out for the next PARENTS WANTED story:

Their Baby Bargain

by Marion Lennox

#3662




A Child in Need

Marion Lennox















CONTENTS


PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN




PROLOGUE


‘MY PERFECT woman…’

‘Yeah, Nick. You must have someone pictured in that cool, calculating head of yours. If you were ever to consider marriage…’

‘Ha!’

‘No, but say your career depended on it. Say you really needed a wife. Who would it be?’ Nick’s fellow lawyers were clustered around the bar late on Friday night, and they weren’t letting him off the hook.

So Nick thought about it—but just to humour them. There was no way this could ever be serious.

‘Okay. Wife requirements coming up.’ He frowned. ‘Anyone I married would have to be independent. I don’t need a wife so she couldn’t need a husband.’

There was a hoot of derisive laughter and the questioning intensified. ‘We guessed that much. Independent. Okay. What else?’

‘Beats me.’ Nick gave a mental shrug. This was stupid. Marriage wasn’t on his cards at all. But if it was…

‘She’d have to be really something,’ he said slowly, thinking it through. ‘Tall and gorgeous. Of course.’

‘Oh, of course,’ his friends agreed, rolling their eyes. ‘Cat-walk gorgeous.’

‘Trophy-wife gorgeous,’ Nick agreed. ‘After all, that’s the only reason I’d be marrying.’

‘And smart?’

‘Absolutely. Professional something. A lawyer or a doctor, maybe. So she’d have her own life.’

‘Rich?

‘Yep. There’s no chance I’m supporting any woman!’

‘That’s a bit unfair. You make a mint.’

‘And that’s the way I like it. Wealth. Position. Travel. What else is there in life?’

‘How about kids?’ they asked curiously.

‘You have to be joking!’ That was emphatic. ‘No!’

‘Now, how did we guess that?’ His friends now had their summary. ‘So… Gorgeous. Intelligent. Rich. Independent. Wanting no ties. Cold as ice? Something like you, in fact?’

‘Am I cold?’ Nick asked mildly, but he knew the answer. Of course he was cold. Nick Daniels kept his emotions to himself. He didn’t get involved. Not after what he’d been through.

So this conversation was ridiculous. Marriage for Nicholas Daniels was never going to happen.



‘It must be getting close now—or has John popped the question already?’

Shanni McDonald laughed and shrugged. They were a strange partnership, these two. Shanni, kindergarten director at twenty-seven, still looked about sixteen. Her assistant, Marg, was in her fifties, but they worked together brilliantly. There was only one disadvantage as far as Shanni was concerned. Marg’s age meant she was never backward in asking the hard questions.

So now she was waiting for an answer, and there was only one to give.

‘Not yet.’

‘He will. I can feel it. And you’ll agree. ’Cos he has to be your perfect man.’

‘I guess.’

‘Isn’t he just what you’ve always wanted?’ Marg demanded. ‘Don’t you have a list?’ She held up one finger after another. ‘Lives locally and never wants to move. Loves animals and kids. Family man. Loves the country. Has room to stable horses and house half a dozen kids. Your families like each other. Everything’s right, then. John fits everything on the list.’

‘I guess he does,’ Shanni said, and tried to stop the note of doubt creeping into her voice.

But Marg was astute enough to hear it. ‘So what’s wrong?’

Shanni caught herself and shrugged. ‘Nothing, I guess… When he pops the question I’ll be the happiest girl in the world. After all, he is my perfect match. Where could I find a better partner in life than John?’




CHAPTER ONE


THE man who just might interfere with her wedding plans wasn’t talking marriage now. Nick had other things on his mind, all bleaker than the thought of an unwanted wife.

‘I don’t want to be a magistrate in Hicksville. I don’t wish to be within a hundred miles of this place—so why on earth am I here?’

It was a good question, but there were sensible answers. Nick Daniels had one burning ambition and one only—to make high-court judge. Historically, once a lawyer joined Queens Counsel he could be appointed a judge without leaving the city, but that was hard to do now. There were new rules. No one wanted the country magistrate positions, and there was only one way to force aspiring judges to take them on.

‘If you want the plum job, then you need to do the hard work first,’ Nick had been told by the head of his chambers. ‘Politically there’s no other way. There’s a job going as local magistrate at Bay Beach. Great little fishing town, four hours’ drive from Melbourne. You’re not married—you’ve no kids—no ties to keep you in town. Put in the hard work there, boy, and we’ll see what we can do.’

‘For how long?’ Nick had been aghast.

‘Two years.’

‘Two years!’

‘You never know.’ Abe Barry had sucked his pipe and had surveyed his hawk-like junior with the beginnings of amusement. Nick was too darned clever by half. If he didn’t get shot of him soon Nick would be edging him aside as chamber head before he knew it. ‘You might even enjoy a spot of rustic idyll. You could apply for a county court judge position and stay there for life!’

‘In your dreams!’

‘No. In your dreams, and I know you dream of the big one,’ Abe had told him, the steel in his voice telling Nick he had no choice in this. ‘But there’s only one way to get it. You’ve had a taste of magistrate work already so you know the ropes. Now take yourself off to the country and show us what you’re made of.’

‘What I’m made of…’ Nick’s hands clenched the wheel of his sleek little sports car until his knuckles showed white. Magistrate at Bay Beach! It was an uninspiring name for an uninspiring place. Nightmare stuff.

Accustomed to big-time criminal cases, now he’d be dealing with parking infringements, fines for illegal fishing and not much else. Though it served as a base for a much larger fishing and farming community, Bay Beach township had less than a thousand inhabitants.

So…fishing and farms! What qualifications did he have for judging farming or fishing disputes? What did he know of either?

Farms gave milk, steak, or wool which was exported to Italy and returned as Nick’s superbly tailored suits. And fishing… Fishing produced salmon and caviar. That was the end of Nick’s interest in farming and in fishing. Period.

Two years as country magistrate… Two years of purgatory! He rounded the headland, still groaning. Bay Beach lay before him, its whitewashed stone cottages glistening in the morning sun. The fishing fleet was coming in—at least, it must be the fishing fleet. There were six boats heading into harbour, and surely there couldn’t be many more boats than six in this ends-of-the-earth place?

‘I’ll go stark, staring crazy,’ he told himself. The sea air was blowing warmly on his face but he hardly noticed. His skin was so tanned he didn’t fuss about protection, and his deep black hair was combed into submission so firmly the sea air didn’t shift it. He sniffed—and wrinkled his aquiline nose in disgust. Salt! And cow dung! Ugh! Give him petrol fumes and city pollution any day!

Another bend in the road and the town limits came into view. There was a petrol station on this side of the town boundary and, on impulse, Nick pulled in. He had to fill the car with petrol, and he might as well do it now—give him a few more minutes before he entered this dump!

He pulled up to the bowser, looked idly over at the youth pulling petrol at the pump beside him—and his life changed for ever.



‘I need to go to the bathroom.’

Shanni sighed and rolled her eyes as three-year-old Hugh made his life or death announcement. It was Friday morning—thank heaven—the end of a week which seemed to have gone on for ever.

‘Marg, can you take Hugh?’ Her assistant at Bay Beach Kindergarten was preparing milk and fruit. This would be Marg’s fourth trip to the toilet during reading, and the way they were going milk and fruit wouldn’t be ready until lunch-time. But needs must.

Calm and unflappable, Marg grinned good-naturedly, shrugged, and took Hugh’s hand. ‘Okay, Hugh, let’s go. But we’d best hurry. This is a very exciting story.’

‘Miss McDonald always tells exciting stories,’ Hugh announced. ‘I tell them to my dad, and my dad says, “Why can’t exciting things like that happen around here?”’

‘I guess pirates wouldn’t be a very peaceful thing to have around in real life,’ Shanni said thoughtfully. ‘What do you think, boys and girls? Would we like it if a real live pirate climbed through the window?’

‘Oh-h-h no…’

But as Shanni went back to reading she couldn’t stop a vague feeling of regret. Oh-h-h, no. But…

Maybe not a pirate—but something! Sometimes Bay Beach was just too quiet for words.

I wouldn’t mind one very small pirate, she thought as she went back to reading of Dirty Dick’s Dastardly Deeds. An image of her John rose before her—kind and placid and as immovable as the Friesian cows he ran on his property. They’d be married soon, Shanni knew. All in good time. When he’d paid off the new dairy and had enough to put a decent size down payment on a new home. He had it all planned out.

‘Just a very small pirate,’ she whispered to herself, and then went back to her book—which was the only place around here that things happened.



It was Len Harris.

Nick stared at the youth beside him and the name was burned into his brain. They were all of two feet apart. No!

Two weeks back, Nick’s junior, Elsbeth, had taken Len on as a duty solicitor case, and she’d asked Nick’s advice. ‘He’s on his ninth conviction but he’s only sixteen. How do I keep him out of remand home?’

‘You don’t,’ Nick said, skimming through the file and closing it with a snap of finality. ‘Hopeless. Save your talent for something worthwhile.’

‘He probably won’t even get to court,’ Elsbeth said morosely. ‘I’ll spend days on this and then he’ll skip bail.’

Which was exactly what must have happened. Nick had seen him in his pre-court briefing. Len had been dragged into chambers by his social worker and, like Elsbeth, Nick had thought the kid’s chances of making court were somewhere between zero and none. Len had looked surly, defiant and fearless.

Which was just the look he gave Nick now. The youth stared at him for a long minute—enough to recognise Nick as surely as Nick recognised him—and then he swore. He threw the fuel hose aside so it snaked away still spurting petrol, he leaped into the Mercedes he was driving—that had to be stolen—and he spun out of the petrol station leaving a trail of burned rubber behind him.



‘Harry, don’t you want to hear about the pirates?’ Before she returned to reading, Shanni tried one more time to attract Harry’s attention. Harry was three years old—almost four—like the rest of her class—but Harry was different. Abused and battered, he’d only just joined the kindergarten after being moved from an uncaring family situation into one of the five homes that made up the local orphanage.

‘You don’t need to take him on if you don’t think you can cope,’ Shanni had been told by the welfare authorities. But of course she’d taken him. How could she not? Harry was enough to wrench the most hardened of hearts.

Harry’s leg was recovering now from a break which had been poorly tended in the past. It had needed resetting, and because the healing was taking so long it was bound in a fibreglass cast with an inbuilt heel. The whole structure seemed much too heavy for such a little body.

The child was so small—little more than a baby, really—and he was permanently withdrawn from the world. He spent his kindergarten time underneath the furthest table, and if Shanni or anyone else tried to drag him out he kicked and screamed until he was allowed to return. After a month in kindergarten, Shanni was no closer to reaching him than the day he’d arrived.

But still she tried.

‘This is a really exciting book,’ she told Harry, but the huge eyes peering out distrustfully at the world edged further back into the shadows.

The rest of her children were waiting. Shanni sighed and kept on reading. Pirates. Pirates and problems…



‘Police? It’s Nick Daniels here, the new magistrate.’ Nick was back behind the wheel of his car and was barking into his mobile phone. ‘There’s a youth driving south into town in a grey Mercedes. He’s sixteen, a bail absconder and erratic as hell. He’s seen me and thinks I’m after him. The way he’s driving he’s heading for trouble. I’m driving behind him, but I’ve backed off so he doesn’t think I’m chasing him. He’s turning left toward the coast. He’s… No!’



Shanni read on.

‘He took his cutlass in his hand and waved it fiercely over his head. “Give me all your treasure,” the pirate yelled, and Miss Mary frowned.

“You’re not a very polite pirate. Hasn’t your mummy ever taught you to say please?”

Dirty Dick glowered and waved his cutlass some more. “All your treasure, I said—”’

There was an almighty smash, and a huge grey car came crashing through the kindergarten fence. Shanni’s book dropped to the floor as the car ended up with its nose pressed hard against the kindergarten windows.



‘It’s crashed.’ Nick was still connected to the police, his hands-free phone letting him concentrate on driving as he talked. ‘Dear God, it’s a kindergarten. I’m pulling up. Back off. Don’t let any police near. He’s capable of doing something really stupid…’

But even as he said it he heard sirens in the distance and knew it was too late. Len, sitting dazed and scared witless in his smashed car, would hear the sirens too. If he was capable of getting out of the car, what would he do now?

And suddenly Nick knew. He swerved into the kerb, got out, left his car where it was and started to run.



‘Children, don’t move. Marg, stay with them.’ Marg had burst back into the room at the sound of the crash and was staring out through the cracked windows at the mess outside. Her jaw was sagging almost to her waist. ‘Call the ambulance and the police.’ Shanni could see smoke drifting up from the engine. If the driver was trapped…

She moved fast toward the door—and then stopped dead.

A boy was climbing from the wreck. He looked about fifteen—skinny and undergrown, filthy windcheater, ripped jeans, long fair hair that hung down over his eyes. He had a cut on his forehead and he staggered as he took his first step.

Shanni opened the door—and then saw what he was holding. As she saw him, he saw her. And raised his hand.

A gun was levelled straight at her heart.

‘What the…?’ Her words were barely uttered before she was interrupted.

‘Don’t move. Don’t do anything stupid.’ It wasn’t the boy. It was a man’s voice, tough and authoritative. Shanni, her hand still on the door and standing as if she was frozen, looked beyond the boy and saw a man behind the smashed Mercedes.

He couldn’t be more different from the boy. He was in his thirties, immaculately dressed in smart casual trousers, a linen short-sleeved shirt and a tie that must have set him back a kindergarten teacher’s weekly salary. He was olive-skinned, dark-eyed, and tall—six foot or so to Shanni’s five-four. His jet-black hair was combed back in city-sophisticate style, and his bone structure was strong and…and male, for want of a better word. Very male.

In short he looked a man accustomed to strength and accustomed to command. His deep brown eyes were creased against the sun, and his words were sharp, incisive and they flicked like a whip.

‘Len, don’t do anything stupid. You’re hurt. Put the gun down and let us help.’

‘You…’ The boy’s breath hissed in as he wheeled to face him, and his fear was palpable. ‘You were going to put me away. You and that stupid other lawyer. Well, no chance. I’m not going to remand school.’ He waved the gun back at Shanni, and his hand trembled. ‘Get inside.’ Then he turned and waved it at Nick. ‘You, too. You try anything and the lady gets it.’

His hand wasn’t trembling enough. The gun was too steady to do anything else.

There was nothing for it but to obey.



So in the kindergarten there were now twenty-five goggle-eyed children, one goggle-eyed kindergarten assistant, Len and Shanni and Nick.

‘Line…line up against the wall.’ Len sounded desperately unsure. The sirens in the distance were getting closer. ‘Everyone.’

‘Leave the children on the mat,’ Shanni said, in a voice that made Nick take a closer look at her. No fainting or hysterics here, then. Shanni was diminutive, far shorter than Nick, with shoulder-length blonde curls running riot, blue eyes and freckles. She was wearing jeans and an oversized man’s shirt smeared with finger paints. She looked about sixteen, but her voice was authoritative and as sure as an experienced school-marm.

‘We’ll sit on the mat with the children,’ she told him. ‘Then you can point the gun at all of us and the children won’t be frightened.’

Len took an audible breath. He really was a child himself. ‘O…kay.’ The gun waved wildly. Outside a siren cut off, and there was the sound of running feet. ‘You…’ He waved the gun at Nick. ‘Stand just outside the door. Tell them…’

‘Tell them what?’ Nick, too, sounded calm, much calmer than he was feeling. Fear and guns and tiny children. This had all the makings of a nightmare.

‘Tell them not to come in or I’ll kill someone.’

‘I’ll go…’ He took a step toward the door.

‘No!’ Len was indecisive and terrified, changing his mind in the instant.

‘If you want me to give them a message fast, then I need to go outside,’ Nick said calmly. ‘I can’t tell them anything from in here.’

‘I’ll kill the kids if they come in!’

‘I understand, but I need to go outside to tell them that. Now, or they’re coming in.’ He cast a swift glance at Shanni, hoping desperately there were some brains behind the riot of blonde curls. Then he looked back at Len, forcing his voice to sound calm as he spoke to him. ‘If you stay behind me, you can keep the gun trained on me while I speak.’

‘I…’

‘They’re coming in, Len.’

‘No!’ The boy was clearly frightened half to death. He waved the gun at the room in general. The children were stunned into absolute silence and Shanni had sunk down onto the mat beside them.

And Len made up his mind. ‘Go out,’ he ordered Nick. Tell them what I said. But I’m behind you. The rest of you…don’t move or I’ll kill him.’

And he shoved the gun into Nick’s back and pushed him out the door.



There were sirens screaming from everywhere. How many cops did they have in this town? Nick thought bleakly. Still, noise was good. If the kindergarten teacher had any brains at all… Let her have one neuron at least.



She did. Shanni knew exactly what she needed to do.

The boy had threatened the stranger—he’d shoot him if they moved—but Shanni couldn’t allow herself to worry about that. Her first—her only responsibility was to her children. Len and his hostage were no sooner out of the door, concentrating on the advancing police, than she was sending a silent message to Marg with her eyes. Let’s get them out of here!

She had to risk talking a little.

‘I want absolute silence!’ she whispered to the children, forcing herself to stay on the mat so her eyes were level with theirs. Somehow she had to keep calm. ‘Not one peep out of anyone. This is a pirate game, just like we’ve been talking about. So the order is that you stay quiet as mice and stay exactly where you are until I touch you. Then, when I touch you on the shoulder, you run outside to Marg, just as fast as your legs can carry you. But not one sound, or Dirty Dick will win the game.’

Then, with a final commanding glance at the children—daring them to disobey—and one cheeky grin to show them it was still fun—she rose, practically shoved the still boggling Marg toward the back door, and she touched Hugh who’d been standing with Marg. ‘Okay, run. Hugh, you first. Now Louise. Go! Now Mary! Sam! Tony! Faster. Good kids. Outside, and Marg will get you right away from Dirty Dick. Go!’



Nick took a deep breath. There were police running toward the place and somehow he had to stop them. Somehow he had to raise his voice.

‘Stop! Right now!’

They stopped, but to his horror Nick saw that two of the police had their guns drawn. Great—a gun battle with him as the meat in the sandwich.

He needed to talk and he needed to talk fast! He raised his voice and yelled.

‘I’m Nick Daniels, and behind me is Len Harris. Len’s jumped bail after armed robbery charges. He has a gun trained on my back and he’ll kill me if you come closer.’ He was trying to give as much information as he could in the little time he had, but it was as much as he could manage to make his voice work at all. Let her be moving the kids…

‘I didn’t tell you to say who I was.’ Len’s gun jabbed Nick hard in the back and Nick grimaced with pain. ‘Just say… Say, “One step closer I’ll kill you.”’

There were three policemen now within listening range. They’d been running but had stopped dead at Nick’s words.

‘One step closer and he’ll kill me,’ Nick repeated flatly.

‘I mean it,’ Len yelled, and the gun dug deeper. ‘Now… Get back. Now!’

Heck, did he have the gun cocked? Somehow Nick had sounded calm enough, but there were rivulets of sweat running down his forehead.

But the police had the message. ‘Okay. We’re backing up.’ The first policeman held out a hand, signalling the others to stop behind him. ‘What do you want?’

‘I dunno yet,’ Len yelled. ‘I gotta think. You give me space. I got all these kids in here…’

‘Don’t touch the children!’ The closest policeman’s voice rose in fear and Nick looked more closely at the officer. He looked in his thirties—around the right age to have a child of his own in there.

‘We’re going back inside.’ The gun jabbed again into the small of Nick’s back. It hurt! ‘Don’t follow. That’s all.’

‘I’m telling him to let some of the children go,’ Nick yelled, dragging back against Len’s insistent pull. ‘He can’t keep all of them. Tell him I’m right.’ He was desperately buying time here. Len was staring straight out at the policemen, and his attention was solely on the outside. And inside…

Surely there was a back door in the kindergarten? Surely the woman wouldn’t be so stupid as to stay still and wait for this crazy kid to return? He had to give her time.

‘You can’t keep twenty-five kids hostage,’ the policeman yelled, confirming Nick’s impression. Yep, this officer knew the kindergarten, right down to the number of children inside. He had personal involvement here.

That was good, Nick figured. No policeman was going to try heroics if his kid could be caught in the crossfire.

Were the children moving out? Out of the corner of his eye Nick saw a flutter of movement behind him. A wisp of colour against the building, fast removed. Please…

‘I ain’t letting any of them go,’ Len snarled. ‘And you come closer and I kill them. One by one.’ He jabbed Nick again, grabbed his collar and hauled him backwards into the kindergarten.

At first sight, Nick thought she’d got them all away. There wasn’t a child in sight. But then he saw a neat denimed backside, sticking up from underneath a side table and his heart sank. Surely she hadn’t tried to hide?

As Len gave a roar of rage, Shanni turned to face him, her arms cradling a tiny boy.



‘You should have gone.’

‘Right, and left Harry.’ An hour later, they were seated against the wall as far from either door as Len could set them. Len was standing opposite, staring out through a chink in the closed curtains. Every so often he’d swivel to stare at his hostages, and only now had he calmed down enough for them to dare speaking. For a while there Nick had feared for this girl’s life.

But she’d stood up to Len as she’d emerged from under the table to face him.

‘I don’t care who you are or what you’re doing, but you don’t need twenty-five tiny hostages. You have me, you have this man and you have one child.’ She’d tilted her chin, defiant and seemingly fearless. ‘And if you hurt Harry—’ she’d held the child closer ‘—then you’ll only have one hostage, because you’ll have to kill me, too.’ And there had been enough steely determination in her voice for Len to know he’d heard the absolute truth.

She’d looked beautiful, Nick thought, stunned. He’d never seen anyone with such courage. This woman took his breath away. And what she’d achieved… Somewhere outside, twenty-four children were being reunited with their parents, with only one remaining here. One emaciated baby with wide eyes and a leg in a cast: a baby who sat ramrod-stiff on Shanni’s lap and didn’t make a sound.

If only she’d been a little faster… ‘Why didn’t you get Harry out too?’ he asked, looking down at the child. Surely he wasn’t old enough for kindergarten.

‘You didn’t give me enough time,’ she whispered. ‘He was under the table.’

‘Yeah, right.’ He didn’t understand, but he heard the note of accusation in her voice and it wasn’t only about not giving her enough time. Her accusation made him blink.

‘You blame me for this?’

‘You chased him in here. Of all the stupid…’

‘Hey, I didn’t!’ His voice rose, and he bit his lip and cast a wary glance at Len. Len, though, was too busy looking outside at the gathering forces of the law. ‘He saw me at the petrol station and assumed I was after him.’

‘You’re a cop?’

‘A lawyer.’

‘Oh, great.’ Her voice said what she thought of lawyers in general—and one lawyer in particular.

‘This is not my fault,’ Nick said through gritted teeth—he wasn’t used to being talked to like this by a woman.

Shanni glowered darkly and held Harry closer. ‘I’m not listening. I need someone to blame, and a city lawyer with a too-thin tie and expensive aftershave will do very nicely, thank you very much.’

He blinked. For heaven’s sake… She was…laughing at him?

He must be mistaken. Women didn’t laugh at Nick Daniels. And women didn’t laugh in situations like this. Her attention was back on the child now, and she was ignoring the reaction she’d had on Nick. Her arms were hugging the little boy, trying to draw his rigid little body into hers.

‘Hey, Harry, it’s okay. It’s okay.’ She rocked him back and forth as she’d been rocking him for over half an hour but there was no sound. Was he mute? Nick wondered, watching woman and child. He knew nothing about babies. Maybe all children reacted like this to fear.

‘His mum and dad’ll be beside themselves with worry,’ he ventured.

‘No.’ Shanni shook her head. ‘Harry lives in one of the houses of the local orphanage. His house mum, Wendy, will be waiting outside, though, won’t she, Harry?’

Silence. Nothing.

‘Is he all right?’ Nick stared down at the little boy. There was something wrong here, apart from the cast on his leg. He mightn’t know much about children, but he wasn’t stupid.

‘He’s fine.’ Shanni sighed. ‘As fine as each of us are in this mess.’ She bit her lip and then seemed to do an inward shrug. Retrieving a hand from around Harry, she extended it in his direction. ‘I’m Shanni McDonald. And this is Harry Lester.’

‘I’m Nick Daniels.’ He took her hand in his and found it surprisingly warm and strong. Different…

She was a very different woman from the type he was accustomed to, he decided, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. Or why she made him feel…odd.

Well, at least she wasn’t falling into hysterics on him, he decided thankfully. He managed a faint smile—and found her eyes disconcertingly twinkling at him.

‘I could say the same for you,’ she said.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I can guess what you’re thinking and, like you, I’m really pleased you’re not the fainting type. We need a couple of cool heads here.’

A couple of cool heads… Nick blinked. She was implying she could help get them out of this mess—and she seemed almost to be able to read his mind!

‘Don’t do anything,’ he said hurriedly. The last thing they needed here was heroics.

‘I’m not stupid,’ she said with dignity. ‘Not like some people I know.’ Then she bit her lip and the twinkle appeared again. ‘Harry, Mr Daniels might have chased a pirate right into our kindergarten but maybe we should be nice to him. Shall we offer him some milk and fruit?’

‘Milk and fruit?’

‘It’s what you eat,’ she said austerely, ‘in a kindergarten.’ And then, before he could say a word, she raised her voice. ‘Len?’

Len wheeled from the window as if she’d yelled, and the gun whirled to point straight at her. To Nick’s amazement she didn’t react with fear but with purpose, rising to her feet with Harry still cradled in her arms. No fast movements—but determined for all that.

‘Sit down!’ Len’s voice cracked in panic but Shanni simply shook her head.

‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I need to go to the bathroom.’

‘No!’

‘There are no windows in the bathrooms,’ she said evenly. ‘Check and see. There’s only roof vents, and I’m not that athletic. No one is.’ She smiled, and her smile would have stopped a tank in its tracks. ‘Len, if you don’t let me go, you’ll be sorry.’

‘I…’

‘I bet you want to go, too,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘What with all this excitement. Tell you what? Why don’t you take your gun and Mr Daniels and Harry into the boys’ room while I use the girls’ room. You can keep your gun on them and I swear I won’t go anywhere.’

He stared at her, baffled.

‘Make as many threats as you like,’ she said calmly. ‘You don’t need to. I’m promising, and I don’t break promises. I will not try to escape. You have my word. I won’t leave Harry. But if we can’t work bathroom arrangements out we’re going to be very uncomfortable.’

‘Yes…’ He thought this through. ‘If you try and get away I’ll shoot the kid. I mean it.’

‘I told you—I won’t leave without Harry,’ she said, and her eyes were direct and honest—so that even Nick, who didn’t trust anyone, trusted her. ‘I swear.’

And, to Nick’s amazement, Len agreed.




CHAPTER TWO


AS HE agreed to almost everything else she suggested through that long afternoon and night. Len might be a criminal with a record a mile long, but he was also still child enough to respond to Shanni’s authoritative school-marming and cheerful smile. In fact, he almost seemed to like it, and, as night fell and she warmed milk for him, he even gave her a hint of a shy smile in return.

‘Ta…’

‘Think nothing of it,’ she said, ignoring Nick’s look of amazement. She glanced at her watch. It was almost ten. After a dinner of bananas, apples and milk there was nothing more she could do to make them comfortable or to defuse the tension. ‘I guess we should all try to sleep now.’

That was too much to expect. ‘Don’t be stupid!’ Len clutched his mug of milk in one hand, his gun in the other and stared out into the night like a hunted thing.

There’d be scores of policemen outside now, Nick knew, with sharpshooters, police psychologists—the works. The police had tried over and over to talk to Len through the long afternoon, but his fear hadn’t let him take the first step. The phone was off the hook and he was simply ignoring the loud hailer.

It was looking as if it would be a long, long night.

‘You don’t mind if we try to sleep, then?’ Shanni gestured down to the mats they used for the children’s naps. She had blankets and pillows piled up—everything they needed.

‘Do what you want,’ Len almost snarled, and Nick thought, he’s tired. He wants to sleep—but he daren’t.

So Shanni spread out the bedding, two sets of mats three feet apart. Nick glanced down at them and casually pushed them together.

‘It’ll be warmer,’ he suggested, and Shanni looked thoughtful. But she didn’t disagree.

‘Come on, Harry,’ she said, and slipped down between mat and blankets, holding the child close, as if she really did intend sleeping.

Nick stared down at them for a long moment—and then did the same.

There was nothing else to do but sleep with her!



Weird!

Len had the lights turned off so he could see outside more clearly. Nick lay staring up into the dark. He was trying to sleep on kindergarten mats, for heaven’s sake, with a woman and child by his side. He could feel the warmth of Shanni—her arm was brushing his, and he was acutely aware of every movement. Sleeping with a woman had never seemed like this! Strangely, it had never seemed so intimate.

She was some woman! She made him feel…

No! It was hardly the time to think like this now! Think of something else. The child…

Harry hadn’t said a word all day, Nick remembered, dragging his thoughts from where they kept straying. Right to the feel of Shanni… The thought of Shanni…

Stop it, Daniels. Get a hold on yourself!

Keep thinking of the child. Harry…

Harry had eaten the fruit Shanni had fed him, and he’d drunk his milk. He’d gone to the bathroom and submitted while Shanni had given him a wash. All the time he’d seemed totally aloof, though his wary eyes had been watching every move anyone made. Now…in the dark, Nick sensed he was still being watched. The little boy was between them, with Shanni’s arms around his shoulders, holding tight. Shanni’s arms…

‘Comfy?’ Shanni murmured, and Nick grimaced.

‘Comfy as I’ll ever be. Would it have hurt to have full-length blankets?’ He had blankets draped all over him, but with three-foot kindergarten lengths it took four pieces to cover him.

‘We don’t get many six-foot students in this place.’ Shanni chuckled, and the weird sense of intimacy deepened. But, in the faint light filtering in from outside, Nick saw her cast a glance across at Len. She wasn’t focussed entirely on Nick or Harry, then. She was checking their talking wasn’t making Len edgy, but Len’s attention was all on the outside. It was okay to keep talking. ‘Mr Daniels is a bit big for our beds, isn’t he, Harry?’ she said softly into the dark.

There was no sound from Harry, but he wasn’t asleep.

‘Does he ever talk?’

‘Who, Harry?’ Shanni gave Harry a squeeze to which the child didn’t respond at all. ‘Only when he wants to—which isn’t often. Harry’s just new at our kinder. He hasn’t learned yet that we’re his friends and we’re never going to hurt him.’

So…the kid lived in an orphanage and he thought adults were things to be feared. Nick frowned, stunned into silence at the unexpected, gut-twisting wrench of sympathy he felt for him.

Which was stupid. This wasn’t like him. He didn’t get involved emotionally! Ever.

‘Come on, Harry, love,’ Shanni was whispering. ‘Settle down. Let me cuddle you.’

He didn’t. His eyes watched everything, supremely distrustful…

‘I’ll stay awake with Harry,’ Shanni suggested. ‘You try and sleep first. Maybe it’s not such a good idea for both of us to sleep.’

‘I think it’s a great idea,’ Nick said thoughtfully. They were whispering into the dark and Len seemed to neither know nor care. ‘This isn’t like the movies. The police know their business, and at least one of the officers out there is personally involved. There’s no chance they’ll come storming in, guns blazing. Unless Len makes any stupid moves we’ll still be here tomorrow, and he’s not desperate yet.’

‘You know about this? About hostage situations?’ For the first time Nick heard a note of fear enter her voice. She wasn’t as tough as she sounded, he thought. But, then, neither was he. This wasn’t a game.

‘I’m a criminal lawyer. I’ve coped with the aftermath of hostage situations and I know the last thing the police will do is escalate the situation. They’ll keep talking. And waiting. They can change shifts and they’ll act like they have all the time in the world.’

He smiled across into her worried eyes with what he hoped was his most reassuring smile. He watched her face as she thought this through, and the fear eased a little.

‘So tonight Len won’t sleep and tomorrow he’ll be overtired as well as terrified,’ he went on. ‘Therefore…we sleep now, so we have our wits about us tomorrow.’

‘It sounds sensible,’ Shanni whispered into the dark. ‘You hear that, Harry?’

‘Daddy,’ whispered Harry, and Shanni closed her eyes. It hurt.

‘Wendy’s waiting outside for you, sweetheart.’

‘Daddy,’ Harry said, and his voice broke with a tiny sob.

‘Where’s his dad?’ Nick asked.

‘Dead,’ Shanni said shortly. ‘Car accident.’

Oh, no…

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t! But after that one tiny sob there was nothing else. Harry was holding his grief all to himself.

‘Hey…’ It was too much for Nick. The child was cradled between them—closer than Nick had ever been to a child before this. He reached over and touched the little boy’s face, his arm touching Shanni’s as he moved. ‘Daddy’s not here but I am,’ he said, and a part of him couldn’t believe what he was saying. ‘Will I do—just for now?’

There was a long, long silence. Harry watched him, questioning, and, just as gravely, Nick watched back.

Then, suddenly, as if he could bear it no longer, the massive restraint broke. Harry reached out and put his arms around Nick’s neck. He gave a shuddering sob, clung as if he was drowning, and he slumped onto his chest.

He shuddered once more, gave a racking sob that convulsed his whole body, then went absolutely limp.

And then he slept.



What sort of man was this?

Shanni lay awake for far longer than Nick and Harry. The boys slept. The lawyer and the baby.

The contrast was almost ludicrous.

Harry, tiny, fair and frail, with his leg in its fibreglass cast and with the hurts to his small body only just fading.

And Nick Daniels…whoever he was. A city lawyer of some kind. He looked lean and tough and ruthless. Len had run from him because he was afraid, and Shanni didn’t blame him. If she’d thought she was in Nick Daniels’ power, she’d run too.

He looked like a hawk, she decided. Strong, and not an ounce of spare fat on him. His face was almost chiselled, with a strong jaw line and deep-etched bones. He was so tanned his eyes seemed constantly in shadow, which furthered the impression of an eagle.

And yet… With his tie undone, with the tiny boy’s arms clinging around his neck, he seemed in some strange way almost as vulnerable as the child in his arms.

That was some crazy thought, Shanni figured. Vulnerable? No! This man was a city lawyer with expensive clothes and looks that would make him stand out like a sore toe in Bay Beach.

Thelma, the local laundress, would have kittens if she was asked to clean his suit, Shanni decided. And his ties… The locals had learned long ago that gorgeous fabrics simply disappeared when Thelma got them into her clutches. She loved them and hoarded them as her own. If she ever got her hands on Nick’s tie it’d take all his legal wiles to get it back—and Shanni’s money was on Thelma.

Good grief! That was a crazy thought, she figured, and she almost chuckled into the darkness. Here she was, in a life and death situation, and all she could think of was legal battles between a city lawyer and the Bay Beach laundress!

But it was a good thought, she decided finally. It was a brave thought and it was better than going to sleep thinking of hunger and guns.

She closed her eyes and, to her amazement, she went to sleep with a smile on her face.



When Nick woke, Shanni still slept. He looked across at her in the filtering dawn light and thought how odd that her mouth was curved into a smile in sleep—as if she was having a lovely dream. The little boy was cradled between them and her hand was over him as if she’d protect him even in sleep. Nick’s arm was around Harry and she was pressed against it. They were twined together as three.

Like a…family?

The thought was suddenly gut-wrenchingly bitter. How would the likes of Nick know what a family was? This scenario was fantasy-world stuff—not real life.

And real life was intruding. Nick stirred and the fantasy ended right there. He’d slept with Harry clinging; his neck was screaming its protest and Harry was clinging still. He reached up and tried to loosen the small arms, but Harry muttered in sleep and his hold tightened.

He should pull the child away—but he couldn’t make himself do it. Somehow… Instead Nick returned his attention to Shanni, telling himself he needed something to distract him from the discomfort around his neck.

Or maybe…maybe it was that he really wanted to look at Shanni some more. Extend the family fantasy?

She wasn’t his type at all, he decided as he watched her. Sure, she was lovely enough, but she was totally unsophisticated in style and much more simply dressed than any woman Nick had ever been attracted to.

She was dressed as a kindergarten teacher, ready for rough-and-tumble with her children. Now her jeans and her too-big-shirt were crumpled from sleep, and her blonde curls were tumbling all over her pillow. There was a smattering of freckles running down her nose, and her lashes were peculiarly dark for one so blonde, but it wasn’t mascara that was doing it—they were long and natural and curled upward… Just like her nose. Sort of snub… Pert… Young.

She wasn’t his type at all, he decided, and why he should lie here staring at her…

She opened her eyes and she smiled, and his gut kicked in. That smile of hers was a real heart-stopper. Straight from sleep, it lit her face and brightened the room around her as if someone had flicked on a light switch.

‘Hi,’ she whispered without moving but taking everything in with wide, intelligent eyes. ‘Are we still hostages?’ Her smile stayed. Where their arms touched was warm—a link of comfort. Or more…

‘Yes. We’re still hostages.’ Good grief, it was all he could do to make his voice work.

‘But we’re not dead yet.’ She yawned and stretched like a cat under her mound of blankets, and the link strengthened as her body stirred against him. ‘That’s something.’

‘Yeah, great.’ Try sarcasm, Daniels…

‘Well, it is!’ Her eyes reproached him. ‘Trust a lawyer to look on the gloomy side.’

‘There’s no need to disparage the legal profession.’

‘Oh, I’ve met some very nice lawyers.’ Her eyes twinkled at him, teasing. ‘All of them over eighty. It takes them that long to realise they’re human after all.’

‘Thanks very much.’

‘Don’t mention it.’ The twinkle peeped out again. ‘Isn’t this cosy?’

‘Very cosy.’ It was, too—absurdly cosy—but he forced his voice to sound dry. For the life of him he didn’t know how else to react. ‘My arm’s about to drop off.’

‘It must be,’ she agreed sympathetically. ‘But, Nick, it’s lovely how he’s holding you. Harry hasn’t held anyone in the whole time I’ve known him.’

‘I’m honoured.’ That was the lawyer in him now, being sardonic, but she ignored it.

‘You are indeed,’ she said seriously. ‘If you knew how hard we’ve worked to get a link…’ And then she paused. ‘But…you’re not local, are you?’

‘No, but…’

‘So you’re just passing through town.’ There was no mistaking her disappointment, and for the life of him Nick couldn’t stop a weird warm glow stir through his body—starting from the toes up. And then she killed it. ‘We want Harry so much to form a bond with someone.’

She wanted someone for Harry. Of course. What else could she possibly have meant?

‘You mean…you’d want me to stay for the kid?’

‘Isn’t that why women always ask men to stay? Because of the children?’ She chuckled. They were still talking in whispers in the near dark and they were almost nose to nose. Over by the window Len either couldn’t hear or he didn’t care. ‘What else did you think I meant?’

What indeed? There was no answer to that one. The glow died—but the link stayed. Her nose was too close!

‘So… You’re from Melbourne?’ He had this almost overwhelming desire to kiss her and she was talking social niceties. It was as much as he could do to figure out what she was talking about.

‘I… Yes.’

‘And you’re in Bay Beach on business?’ She sounded politely interested—nothing more.

‘I am.’ And then he weakened. He might as well tell her. Soon the whole district would know. ‘I’m taking over from Judge Andrews. Rotating magistrate.’

‘Rotating magistrate!’ Her eyes widened, her eyes lit with pleasure and her lovely smile practically enveloped her face. ‘Then you’re not leaving. You’re here for two years. That’s fantastic.’

He chewed that over for a bit. ‘Why is it fantastic?’ he asked cautiously, and here it came. Of course.

‘Because Harry likes you.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes. He does.’ Her eyes darkened and intensified. ‘Nick, you mustn’t look like that.’ She put out a hand and touched the little boy’s soft hair. Harry was dead to the world, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted as his body was cradled between them. He’d forced himself to stay awake far too late last night, he hadn’t trusted anyone, but in Nick’s arms he’d felt safe.

‘Harry’s had a dreadful time,’ she said simply.

‘I don’t need to—’

‘He wasn’t wanted,’ she went on, ignoring his interruption. ‘His mother has two children by a previous marriage and she didn’t much like Harry’s father. Peter was landed with him at birth.’

‘Peter. You mean…the father kept the baby?’

‘That’s right. It was okay for a while. Peter took Harry with him everywhere, and he loved him to bits. But…almost a year ago he and Harry were in a car accident. Peter was killed. There was a little money from the sale of Peter’s house, held in trust for Harry, so Bernadette—Harry’s mother—decided she’d take Harry in again. Only…she didn’t like or want Harry for himself, and it showed.’

‘You mean she mistreated him.’

‘Dreadfully.’ Her luminous eyes swelled with tears in the dim light. ‘He had a smashed leg in the accident and after she took him home she never went near the doctor again. He needed physiotherapy and he never got it. If you knew the condition he was found in when Welfare finally took an interest…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Anyway, that’s in the past. He’s safe now, settled in one of the homes of the local orphanage system. And with you he seems to have finally made some contact.’

‘I’m not a contactable person,’ Nick said bluntly, and Shanni stared from all of six inches away.

‘Why ever not?’

‘I don’t like children.’

‘Come on.’ She teased him gently with her eyes. ‘You’ve let him give you a numb arm.’

‘Only because I didn’t want him howling the place down.’

‘Liar.’

‘It’s the truth.’

‘Sure.’ Her tone said she didn’t believe him, but she was moving on. She glanced at her watch and, as she moved, her arm shifted away from his. He was aware of a surge of emptiness as she did. A link broken that he’d valued… But she didn’t notice. ‘It’s six a.m. I wonder how the siege is going?’

‘Patiently.’

‘They’ll wait?’

‘For weeks if need be,’ Nick told her. ‘I know our police force. They’ll wait this out.’ Please, he added beneath his breath. The thought of anyone bursting in here with guns blazing left him cold.

But… ‘A week! We can’t live for a week on milk and fruit.’ Shanni brushed her curls back from her face and stood up, decision written firmly all over her. ‘Good morning, Len,’ she said softly, louder than she’d been talking to Nick but still not so loud that she’d wake Harry.

Len wheeled to face them. He looked dreadful, Nick thought dispassionately. The youth looked absurdly young to carry the weapon he had in his hands, and he looked…desperate. The hands that held the gun shook with weariness.

And fear.

Shanni saw.

‘You’re exhausted,’ she said softly. ‘You must sleep.’

‘I’ll sleep when I want to sleep.’ Len’s voice was an attempt at a vicious growl, but it broke in mid-sentence, marking his youth.

‘Okay.’ Shanni made a placating gesture and sat down on her mat again. With them sitting Len seemed to relax. As if they couldn’t spring on him. But she kept right on speaking. ‘Len, I’m really hungry. How about if we order in pancakes?’

‘Pancakes!’

‘There’s a fast-food outlet on the edge of town. They deliver.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Nick said as Len stared in disbelief. ‘You’re proposing we just ring up and tell them to drive in through the barricades?’

‘I don’t see why not.’ Shanni smiled her very nicest smile at Len—the smile Nick was beginning not to trust. It could make a man do strange things, that smile. ‘My brother’s a policeman. He’s out there somewhere. If I talked to him I reckon we could swing it.’

‘No!’

‘Pancakes and maple syrup and hot chocolate,’ she said beguilingly. ‘Steaming hot…’

Len could well have eaten nothing the day before, Nick figured then, watching the look of raw need flash across his face. He must have stolen the car on Thursday night and maybe he’d been on the run ever since. He’d had one glass of milk last night, and all that was left was fruit, cold and unappealing.

‘I can do this safely,’ Shanni assured him. Then she paused, sneezed, grabbed a tissue from her sleeve and sneezed again. She grinned as she emerged from her tissue. ‘Sorry, guys. Hay fever. It’s that time of the year. Anyway…’ She sneezed again and reassembled. Honestly, she was incorrigible. ‘Just let me phone and you can listen to every word I say.’

She gave Len a happy grin, as if he was a friend, and then she sneezed again for good measure. One more sneeze and she was back to entreaty.

‘Hey, Len, if you don’t like what I do you can shoot me in the toe—and it’s not every day I offer a toe. I’m very attached to my toes.’

Len glared.

Shanni sneezed again. She sniffed and recovered and smiled once more. Her very nicest smile…

‘Len, I’m just a kindergarten teacher with hay fever,’ she said, and the lawyer in Nick made him stare. If he heard this innocent little voice in a witness box he’d know she was lying through her teeth. But Len was no lawyer and she had him dazzled. ‘I’m not some hotshot lawyer with brains like my friend, here,’ she said, waif-like. ‘All I’m saying is that we’re hungry and I can organise us a great breakfast. But you’ll have to trust me.’

He still glared.

Shanni sneezed. She looked so innocent, Nick thought. She’d pulled off her trainers, she was barefooted, fresh from sleep, and her curls were unbrushed and tangling around her face. She sneezed again and he wondered how on earth she’d ever got this job. In charge of a kindergarten? She didn’t look as if she should be in charge of anything. But…there was this tiny twinkle behind her eyes that he mistrusted…

‘Sorry. Drat my stupid hay fever,’ she said weakly. ‘Late spring’s my worst season. They’re cutting hay all around the town and mornings are dreadful. And I’m so hungry. Len, please let me ring my brother. You can listen to every word.’

The room held its breath.

And finally Len nodded. Between pancakes, sneezes and smiles he seemed bewitched. As Nick was.

‘Okay. Be fast. And I’m listening.’

Shanni smiled. She sneezed once more and crossed to the phone.

And the twinkle stayed.

‘Hello?’ She dialled emergency and to her relief it took her straight through to the command post outside. They must have had the line rigged so every call was monitored.

‘Police here.’

‘It’s Shanni McDonald,’ she said.

‘Shanni…’ She recognised the voice of the local police inspector, and it was hoarse with worry. A siege like this must be every policeman’s nightmare. ‘Are you okay, lass?’

‘We’re fine.’ Len nudged her in the ribs with the gun. On the mat Harry stirred in Nick’s arms and Nick sat up, cradling the child against him. They looked sort of cute, Shanni thought, looking across at the out-of-town magistrate and his baby—before concentrating carefully on sneezing again. Some things were important. Apart from cute lawyers…

And Len’s patience was running out. The gun dug into her ribs, harder this time, and she turned her attention back to what she was doing.

‘Inspector, we’re very hungry,’ she said. ‘All of us.’

‘I can understand that.’

‘You’re not planning on starving us out?’

‘Tell us what you want.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Pancakes,’ she said. ‘Hot food and plenty of it. We thought fast-food pancakes, maple syrup, and hot chocolate. From Don’s Diner.’

‘We can do that. How will we get it in?’

‘Have someone put it on the doorstep. Len won’t shoot anyone carrying pancakes, will you, Len?’ The youth was listening to every word being said, standing right against her as she talked while the gun stayed pressed into her side. She sneezed and he backed off a bit.

‘Inspector…?’

‘Yes.’

‘I need my hay fever pills,’ she added. ‘Rob will know. The strong night ones.’

‘I didn’t say anything about no…’ Len started, but Shanni sneezed again. She gave him an apologetic smile.

‘Please?’ she said nicely, and he grimaced.

‘Okay,’ he snapped. ‘And tell him I want a helicopter.’

‘That might be harder than pancakes and hay fever pills,’ Shanni said mildly, and Len swore and grabbed the phone.

‘I want a helicopter,’ he told the policeman. ‘To get me away from here.’

‘You’ll leave the hostages behind?’ The inspector’s voice was carrying and Shanni could hear every word.

‘They’ll come with me. I’ll dump them where I’m going.’

‘It’ll take time to organise,’ the policeman said urgently. ‘Maybe all day. There’s been a storm north of here and emergency services are stretched.’

‘A helicopter by tonight or someone gets it.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘And get them pancakes.’ Len crashed the phone back on the cradle and went back to staring out the window. While Nick watched Shanni. Who’d forgotten to sneeze…

‘Are we having pancakes?’ Harry asked, rubbing his sleepy eyes, and Nick nodded and gave him an impulsive hug. When really he wanted to hug Shanni.

‘Thanks to your clever kindergarten teacher we might well be having pancakes.’ Then, as Shanni sat down beside them again, Nick lowered his voice so only she could hear and said, ‘And hay fever tablets to boot. How about that? If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, Shanni McDonald, that could make us all feel very much better!’



The pancakes arrived and were delicious, though for the life of him Nick couldn’t urge Harry from his knee. Shanni fed him his pancakes in pieces like a little bird, and every time Nick tried to put him aside the child forgot about food and turned and clung.

Nick found it claustrophobic—and Shanni’s delighted smile made it worse.

‘I don’t like children,’ Nick said through gritted teeth, and she chuckled.

‘Yeah, right. I can see that. But you don’t have to like children. Just Harry.’

And Len? Len ate his pancakes as if he hadn’t seen food for a week. Shanni had opened the door and pulled the tray inside and Len had fallen on it as if all his Christmases had come at once. Luckily whoever had organised it had decided to provide enough to feed the teeming masses; otherwise there’d have been none for anyone else.

‘That was wonderful,’ Shanni said after her third pancake. She sneezed as she carried the litter back to the bench and fetched the mugs of hot chocolate. ‘And what’s coming is better still.’ She twisted the cap off the bottle of hay fever pills. ‘My pills! Sorry guys. Now I can stop sneezing.’

She carried mugs of hot chocolate over to Nick and Harry, and then to Len at his watching post by the window.

‘Thank you for letting us eat,’ she said softly, smiling down at him. ‘It was kind.’

‘Yeah…all right.’ He looked longingly at the chocolate. It was thick and creamy with a melting marshmallow floating on top, but the sight disturbed him. ‘We shoulda got coffee. Coffee’d keep us awake.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She sounded so contrite it was pathetic. ‘If you don’t want this, I’m sure Harry would like two mugs.’

‘I’ll drink it,’ he snapped. ‘Go away.’



‘Hot chocolate.’ Nick looked thoughtful as he sipped. ‘Now, why didn’t you order coffee, Shanni McDonald?’

‘We have coffee here for Marg and I to use.’

‘Instant.’ His tone said what he thought of that.

‘This isn’t metropolitan Melbourne,’ she snapped. ‘You’ve come a long way from cappuccino society here.’

‘I understand that.’ He grimaced. He certainly had. ‘But I’d assume your fast-food chain provides decent coffee. Not as sweet, of course. Or maybe…’ He cast a glance at Len, who’d drained his chocolate and was back staring intently out of the window. ‘Maybe not as disguising?’

‘Just drink your chocolate and shut up,’ Shanni snapped.

‘And wait and see?’

‘And wait and see.’

‘Your sneeze seems to have stopped. Those pills must be very effective.’

‘I do hope so,’ she said simply—and waited.



They waited an hour.

Len was rocking on his stool by the window. The curtains were still drawn and Shanni hadn’t turned on the light.

‘It’s cosier in the almost dark,’ she said, and lay on her back and told Harry the story of The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

Still within the safety of Nick’s arms, Harry listened and Shanni thought it was the first time she’d ever known Harry to listen at all.

She held her breath and waited.

And it wasn’t just the pills she was waiting on…



It was strange, Nick decided. Surrealistic. For Nick, accustomed to living life at full speed, to be forced to lie and hold a child and listen to the exploits of a make-believe caterpillar… He’d never done such a thing in his life.

The whole world held its breath.



Over at the window, Shanni could sense Len was listening too. And waiting. She made her voice calm and warm and even and when Harry dropped off to sleep again she wasn’t surprised.

What did surprise her was Nick. Gently he disengaged Harry’s clutching fingers, let the little one slip sideways onto the pillows and then, with a questioning look at Shanni—a ‘help-me-with-this’ look—he rose and crossed steadily to Len at the window. Shanni watched him every step of the way, her hand coming down to cradle Harry so he wouldn’t notice Nick’s absence.

‘Len?’ Nick said softly.

His head jerked up. He was so close to sleep… ‘Yes?’

‘You’re cold, boy.’ He pushed the reading chair forward—the only comfortable chair in the kindergarten. It was padded, with a high back, and he tossed a couple of cushions on for good measure. ‘It might take hours for the helicopter to arrive. If you’re not comfortable your muscles might cramp up and you’ll fall off your stool. Use this one.’ He pushed the chair against the window. Then, as Len hesitated, he threw a couple of blankets on top.

‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he suggested.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Len’s face was all suspicion.

‘If you fall off the stool, chances are that gun will go off,’ Nick said bluntly. ‘Then you’ll have every cop in the country storming in. Neither of us wants that.’ And then he grinned. ‘And you let us have pancakes.’

His smile was beguiling—even Shanni was beguiled, for heaven’s sake, and this man was a lawyer!—and it worked a treat. Len didn’t answer—he glared—but he grudgingly moved from his hard stool to the comfortable chair. And when Nick offered blankets, he threw them over his knees and almost managed a smile of thanks.

‘It’ll get better,’ Nick said, and Shanni practically gaped in astonishment at the sympathy in his voice. ‘This isn’t the end of the world, you know.’

‘What would you know about it?’ Defiance—but also fear.

‘I know you haven’t killed anyone. I know you’re young and young offenders don’t go to jail. They go to remand homes where, if they want, they can learn a trade. I know there’s a heart under that tough exterior…’

‘I can’t…’

‘And you love cars,’ Nick said softly. ‘I can see that.’ He motioned out of the window to where the smashed grey Mercedes lay between them and the police. ‘If you have to steal cars, at least you steal cars with class. It’s taken a darn sight more skill to steal this baby than a cheaper job.’

His dark eyes twinkled down at Len and it wasn’t just Len who was mesmerised. Shanni was speechless. This was a whole new facet to the man. Up until now she hadn’t been able to see past the smooth exterior, but now…there was a human being in there somewhere. ‘If you’re willing to learn about mechanics while you’re in remand school, I’d bet there’d be luxury car dealers who’d be prepared to take you on,’ he said.

‘Yeah? Like who?’

‘Like my uncle,’ Shanni interjected, smiling up at Nick as if he was talking absolute sense. ‘He runs a dealership. I know one of his lads has a police record, but my uncle doesn’t care—as long as he keeps straight now and knows how to fix his engines.’

‘He wouldn’t employ me.’

‘You’d have to do your time first,’ Shanni said thoughtfully. ‘But if you put your time in the remand home to good use…’

‘I ain’t going to remand school.’

‘Hey, Len, just think about it,’ Nick urged gently. ‘While we sleep.’

‘Another story, I think,’ Nick said as he returned to his mat. Shanni’s eyes were wide with appreciation.

As were Nick’s. This woman was extraordinary. As he’d made Len warm and comfortable and soothed his terror, she’d given Len what he most needed—hope. Len was dead tired, and, if Nick’s guess was right, he was full of sleeping pills. Now all they had to do was set the mood—and Shanni was right onto that.

‘How about if I read Goodnight, Goodnight?’ she suggested.

‘Harry’s asleep already,’ Nick said reluctantly. He’d lifted Harry into his arms again, unthinking, as if it was an instinctive movement. It was starting to feel as if the child belonged there.

‘He might wake up if I don’t keep reading,’ Shanni said softly. ‘If I keep my reading going I’ll soothe him into sleeping for ever.’

Or who else might she soothe into sleep?

It was so…seductive.

Shanni had turned on the heater and the room was warm—almost over-warm. The huge breakfast had made Nick feel so sated he almost needed sleep again himself, even though it was only two hours since he’d woken. The child in his arms slept on and on, catching up on missed time.

Shanni’s voice was low and sweet and melodic—soothing him toward rest.

If Nick hadn’t been watching Len…

But he was. He was watching Len like a hawk. The gun was slowly slipping. It must be so heavy.

Please let those outside not use the loud hailer or try to contact him again, Nick thought, but if Shanni’s brother had twigged as to why she wanted the hay fever tablets then they wouldn’t be so stupid.

They weren’t.

Shanni read and Nick watched Len—and Nick watched Shanni. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her breast, and he listened to the soft lilting of her voice. If I was three years old this is where I’d like to go to kindergarten, he thought dazedly, and had to shake himself. No one had ever read him stories. Not ever!

For heaven’s sake, he was thirty-two years old. This was stupid. He was feeling like this just because it was a novelty. A situation like this…

A woman like Shanni…

He’d never met anyone like her.

And finally her voice fell away to nothing.

And she’d succeeded.

‘He’s asleep,’ she said softly. At the window, Len’s face had fallen forward so his chin was resting on his chest. His gun had fallen to one side in the chair and his hands were lifeless. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

‘Len?’ Shanni asked softly.

‘Leave him be for a bit,’ Nick said. ‘We’ve worked on this. Let’s not spoil it by hurrying.’

‘We’ve worked on this?’

He grinned at that, tension easing. ‘Okay, smartyboots. You’ve worked on it. How many tablets did you give him?’

‘Four at twenty-five milligrams.’

‘Enough to stop the worst sneezing.’

‘Even mine,’ she said virtuously. She wrinkled her nose and her eyes danced. ‘See? Not even a sniffle.’

‘Miraculous. How many did you take?’

‘Hmm. Somewhere between zero and none. I can’t quite remember.’

He smiled and they waited on, both knowing that once Len was deeply asleep they had nothing to fear. Ten minutes. Fifteen. It was strangely intimate: sitting in a pile of bedding holding the child in his arms with Shanni watching over them.

‘He has such huge problems,’ she said out of the blue.

‘Who?’ Were they talking about Len?

They weren’t. ‘Harry, of course.’ She sighed, placing a hand on Harry’s mop of fair curls. ‘I’m so worried about him. They’re threatening to put him into a home for psychologically disturbed children.’

‘Is he?’

‘Psychologically disturbed?’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe. Wouldn’t you be if your dad was dead and your mother and stepfather hated you?’ And then she frowned at the look on Nick’s face. ‘Why? What have I said?’

‘Nothing.’ He somehow put aside shadows of past hurt and shook his head. ‘This has nothing to do with me. Or you, either, as far as I can see. He’s just one of your students, isn’t he? What do you get from taking the worries of the world onto your shoulders?’

‘Meaning you think I’m stupid for trying?’

‘Maybe.’ He shrugged.

She gave him a long, measuring look. ‘No. You don’t mean that. For a lawyer, I thought you were pretty good to Len just then.’

‘I’m a magistrate. I have to learn niceties.’

‘Legal niceties. Not human niceties. But…you were nice just now. It wasn’t all an act.’

How did she know that? She didn’t!

‘So how about you, then?’ he demanded, changing tack. Talking about him made him feel like running a mile. ‘Surely your family—your uncle with the car dealership—wouldn’t seriously think about employing such a kid?’

‘There’s no hope for him if someone doesn’t,’ she said sadly. ‘So maybe it’s just as well there are people like my family in the world. People who care.’

‘People who’ll get walked all over.’

‘Says you.’ She shrugged. ‘The nice magistrate who tries so hard not to be. Nice, I mean.’ And then she smiled, letting him off the hook where he was beginning to squirm. ‘Anyway, maybe…’ She cast a long look across at Len—and another at Harry. ‘While we have both our children sound asleep, I think it’s time we got ourselves out of here, don’t you?’

‘I couldn’t agree more. I’ll get the gun.’

It was time to leave. But there was a part of him—a part which he didn’t understand in the least—that didn’t want to leave at all.

There was no choice. Move…

But when he went to hand over Harry, the child’s arms tightened like a vice, and if Nick had tried to disengage him he would have woken and sobbed.




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