Beautiful Lies (49 page)

“I don't believe you!”

“No? How closely have you looked at yours? It's a big stone, all right…but it's not perfect. Not by a bloody long shot. It's flawed…. It's not even a sphere. Anyone who looked closely at it, anyone who knew pearls…could have told you. One X-ray is all it takes…to reveal the nucleus.”

Liana felt Cullen slumping against her. She was frantic to finish what Cullen had started. She put her arm around Cullen to try to hold him up, and Matthew grabbed him from the other side. “But you didn't show the pearl to anyone, did you, Frank?” she said. “You couldn't, until you were sure the other one was gone. That way you could pass off your pearl as something entirely different.”

Another sky-rending streak of lightning showed the indecision in Frank's expression. Liana could almost feel his desire to take out his pearl and look at it, just to be sure Cullen was lying.

“Lee was right. Mei knew…what you had become…. It's like her to understand these things, isn't it? It's like her…to worry about everybody….” Cullen fell limply against her, and even with Matthew's strength, Liana was unable to brace herself enough to stop his slide to the deck.

“You've killed my dad!” Matthew shouted.

“Shut up!” Frank ran his fingers through his hair, but the gun didn't waver.

“Let's go back to Pikuwa Creek and get the real pearl,” Liana pleaded. “It's a small price to pay, Frank. Please…”

“Shut up!” He pointed the gun directly at her. “All of you shut up!”

The boat was rocking harder now, and the
Robinette
was banging against the side with every toss, making the sail
boat even less stable. Frank stood his ground like a seasoned sailor, but after a moment, the strain was too much. He felt in his right pocket with his left hand, glancing down for one heart-stopping moment when the angle proved difficult. Roman edged closer, then halted when Frank glanced up again.

With the utmost care, Frank pulled a ring case from the watch pocket of his jeans. “Don't anybody move.” He held the case in his left hand and tried to flick it open with his thumb. When that didn't work, he rubbed the side against his belt buckle, but opening the case was a job for two hands.

Liana prayed that Roman would see there was going to be only one small window of opportunity. She could see Frank's indecision, his desire to know the truth, and, at last, the greed that eclipsed common sense. The gun wavered momentarily as he used both hands to open the box and take out the pearl.

Roman sprang.

The gunshot was louder than thunder. Liana saw Roman stiffen, but he fell against Frank, pushing him backwards against the lifeline. The gun clattered to the deck, and the boat rocked wildly under the shifting weight. Then both men were overboard.

“Granddad!” Matthew started toward the side.

“Stay where you are! We'll tip!” Liana felt along the deck for Frank's pistol, all but invisible in the darkness. Her breath came in short sobs, but her hands didn't tremble. She found the gun and knelt at the side, training it on the men in the water. Even with the storm overhead and the waves tossing furiously, she could see both men thrashing several yards from the stern, but not clearly enough to take aim.

“Roman, get away from him,” she screamed. “I have the gun.”

She could see a fist high above the water, and two hands clasping it at the wrist. She thought she saw blood pooling around the two men, although she couldn't be sure. “Roman! Get away!”

“I've got to help!” Matthew crawled up beside her.

“Get an oar. Do it right now!”

He crawled toward the bow. She peered into the waves, ready to go in after Roman. The fist wavered. She saw shoulders, but only one head, although it was too dark to tell whose. Matthew returned with an oar and held it over the side.

“Roman, the oar!” Liana shouted. “Grab the oar!” She was stripping off her shoes, ready to dive in. She shoved the gun at her son. “Matthew, can you shoot if you have to?”

“You can't go in there, Mom!”

Something grabbed the oar. She saw hands, then a head with silver hair. The gun clattered to the deck again. “Hold on, Matthew. Pull!” She leaned over and grabbed Roman's shirt, tugging hard until she could get an arm under his. He kicked feebly with his legs, as the boat rocked harder beneath them.

“Slowly,” she shouted. “Matthew, a little at a time, or we'll tip.”

They got him on board at last.

Roman was gasping. “Wouldn't let go of that pearl…to save himself…. I held him under, but he was treading water with one hand. He wouldn't let go—”

Liana felt for the gun and trained it on the water. “Frank!” she shouted. “We'll get you out, but I've got a gun on you.”

As they had struggled to rescue Roman, the boats had drifted in circles closer to the island, caught in a sluggish whirlpool. Everything looked different now, and for a mo
ment she was disoriented. She couldn't see Frank, and she wasn't sure where to look. The storm was passing, but the waves were still fitful enough that a man could be hidden between them.

“Frank!”

His answer was a terrified scream. She saw thrashing, wild, terrible thrashing, far beyond where she had expected Frank to be, twenty yards or less from the island. She thought frantically of Cullen's diver, nearly taken by a shark. Then she saw the Australian archangel of death, the Neanderthal outline of a huge saltwater crocodile, winding through the waves from the direction of the island, drawn by the blood of the man now safely inside the boat.

She grabbed Matthew and turned him away, wrestling him like a younger child so that he wouldn't see. The scream died quickly. She hoped, for Mei's sake, that the man had died quickly, too.

“Granddad.” Matthew fell to his knees sobbing. “He shot you.”

Roman limply batted his hand away. “Don't fuss, boy.”

She knelt beside Roman. Like Cullen's, his shirt was stained with blood. She ripped it open and spread it wide. Frank's bullet had grazed Roman's side, taking its share of flesh, but, cleansed by saltwater, the blood was already beginning to clot.

“Watch him, Matthew.”

She crawled toward Cullen, praying. She reached him and lifted his arm. The makeshift dressing had slowed the bleeding, but his clothes were soaked with all he'd lost. Much too much. She used a shirt Matthew or Roman had discarded, loosening the jacket sleeves and slipping the shirt beneath it for more pressure against the wound, then she sat
cross-legged and pulled his head into her lap. The bleeding slowed, but she was still worried about shock or worse.

“Lee…”

“Cullen.” She smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “Frank's dead. We're going to get you out of here right now. We'll take the
Robinette
and flag down the first boat we see. You're going to be fine.”

“The pearl…”

“Fuck the pearl!”

Somehow he managed the shadow of a grin. “I didn't…”

She saved him an explanation. “I know Frank's pearl was the real one. You weren't a gambler for nothing, were you? You knew if Mei had found the pearl she would have done exactly what you said.”

“I was just bloody well…making my final bet….”

“I knew that.”

“How did you…?”

“Because you never would have taken it. No matter how angry you were at me. Even if you could have.” She began to sob. “I'm so sorry about everything. I love you. Don't die on me, Cullen. Promise me!”

“The pearl?”

“Gone forever.”

“Then I reckon I'll have a good chance of making it…through this alive…at that.”

She was sobbing, but she didn't care. “I'll stay with you. I'll take care of you, if you'll have me.”

“You threw…it away, Lee. Just…like that.”

“I threw away a fake! But it's the thought that counts, isn't it?”

“It was always…the thought. Never the pearl.”

“I don't care which it was. It doesn't matter anymore. I
just want you and Matthew. I want our life back. I'm going to make it happen.”

“You say…you'll stay with me?”

“Oh, Cullen, if you'll forgive me. If you'll have me.”

“Get me home, Lee.”

“Nothing's going to stop us, mate. Not ever again.”

He lifted her hand to his lips. “That's…my missus.”

M
atthew perched on one of the coolibah rails outlining a ring where Luke had been working with a snow-white filly. The horse was alone inside the enclosure now, but every time Matthew spoke to her, she edged closer. She was one of Jimiramira's own, descended from thoroughbreds, spiced with the blood of champion quarter horses and fleet-footed Arabians. Earlier in the day Roman had told him that tomorrow, on his fifteenth birthday, she was to be his.

He had named her Pearl.

“So, what do you think?”

Matthew swivelled to find his grandfather standing just behind him. He supposed Roman's silent approach had been perfected in the bush. “You're supposed to be napping.”

“The day a hoon like you can tell me what to do with my life is the day I won't climb back into anybody's boat.”

Matthew was unperturbed. “I'm not telling you. Dr. Keller's telling you. You're still supposed to rest in the hottest part of the day.”

“He doesn't know a thing about me.”

Matthew hopped down to stand beside him, just in case Roman needed someone to lean on. “She's beautiful. She's the best gift ever.”

“You have to come visit her. I reckon I'm not going to waste her on a boy who never comes to ride her.”

“Pikuwa Creek's not that far away. We'll be coming back every chance we can. I'll come on school holidays. And in between, you'll be coming to see us. Dad said you promised him.”

“I was talking about visiting the horse, boy, not me.” Roman offset the words with a half grin.

Matthew looked beyond his grandfather to the couple slowly walking side by side toward them. Cullen and Liana were absorbed in each other and didn't notice that Matthew was watching. Cullen's face remained pale, but his strength was returning. As Matthew looked on, Cullen reached over and tucked a stand of Liana's dark hair behind her ear. He might not seed his own pearls this season, but by the fall he would be in charge again.

Liana's arm was tucked inside Cullen's, but Matthew's father was the one who needed the support. By the time Whitey Pendergast and the crew of one of Southern Cross's luggers had found them at the mouth of the Graveyard, Cullen's lung had collapsed and he had lost enough blood to send him into shock. Only the expert intervention of a medic on board had saved his life.

Liana had stayed at Cullen's side throughout his recovery, refusing to leave him for even a moment. And, more often than not, Matthew and Roman had joined her there.

Matthew was still startled to see his parents together, even though he'd had most of a month to get used to the sight. As a child, he had never imagined a reconciliation, or even hoped for one. Yet here they were, together, and now his own life had changed forever.

“I like her,” Roman said gruffly. “She's a strong woman. Just so you know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Mind your manners, boy.”

“It's a good question.”

“I always liked him. I reckon I just didn't like me.” Roman was silent for a moment. “You won't miss San Francisco?”

“We'll go back to visit.” Matthew thought of the designs his mother had shown him last night, drawings of jewelry she would craft from his father's pearls. She had talked of opening a boutique in San Francisco where she could sell her work, as well as one in Broome. She had promised that they would travel back to California as often as they could to see friends and Aunt Mei, who needed their love more than ever now. Even Uncle Graham was planning an Australian vacation, just to be sure they didn't forget he was part of the family. Liana had promised she would do everything possible to help Matthew make the adjustment to Pikuwa Creek, as if living there hadn't always been his heart's desire.

Matthew spoke his greatest fear out loud. “I think she's still afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“She's worried about making things easy for me, but living in Australia will be hard for her.” He tried to think of a way to explain. “It's like Pikuwa Creek is a brand-new game for me, one I always wanted to play but was never allowed to. She played it a long time ago and lost.”

“She'll be right. She's got everything she needs to make a go of it. And she'll have your dad to help her adjust.”

“She will, won't she?”

“I reckon it looks that way.”

Matthew watched his parents, who had stopped just out of hailing distance. They had their heads together, and Matthew thought his father was laughing. Liana rose to her tiptoes and kissed him, and Cullen scooped her closer.

Roman rested his hand on Matthew's shoulder. “Frankly, boy, I think it's time you stopped worrying about everybody else. From what I see, your mum and dad can take care of themselves and each other just fine. You just work on becoming a man.”

Matthew pictured one flawless pearl, buried forever at the bottom of Cygnet Bay. Something eased inside him, like a hand opening slowly, a burden disappearing between one wave and the next.

He nodded at his grandfather. “Maybe I will.”

Behind him the filly, Pearl, snorted defiantly. He turned
and extended his hand between the coolibah rails, clucking softly. He wasn't even surprised when she sidled close enough to rub her velvet muzzle against his palm.