Cover
Reveal
Book Title: Afterlife of Alanna Miller
Author: Demelza Carlton Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: January 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
A tiny taste of what's in store:
"I know something you won't miss
about Melbourne," Jo said as she peered through the window.
The packing tape made a tortured sound as
I used it to seal another box. "What? The ever-changing weather?" I
scrawled BOOKS across the top of the box with my marker, then decided to label
the sides, too.
"No. The commute to uni. Squeezed
into a packed train carriage with all those crazed commuters, forcing yourself
not to freak out at the sheer number of strangers touching you...I've seen your
face on the train. It's like you're trying not to scream."
I smiled wanly. Trying not to stab
someone, actually. Five years and my skin still crawled if anyone touched me.
Maybe I should have become a nun, not a doctor. No, I wouldn't be allowed to
carry a knife everywhere if I were a nun. Plus, there was the matter of having
killed people..."I'll be able to walk to work now. I told you that
apartment next to the hospital was a good investment."
She stuck her tongue out. "I'm an
accountant, not an investment adviser. But I still think you should've rented
it out this year, before you moved in. Six months' rent is a lot of money to
throw away..."
It wasn't about the money. It was about
having my own space, brand new, that no one else had lived in or done things
in. A place without a past so I could create my own future there. Of course I
picked Perth. After so much time away, I wanted to go home. With a new name, a
new career and a whole new life...but it was home. Someone else's
afterlife...haunting the place where I'd nearly died. It was fitting. Every
time I looked at St Elsie's Hospital next door, I'd remember my time there as a
patient and hopefully have more sympathy for my patients. Or go to pieces and
be admitted to the psychiatric ward.
No, I told myself. I was prepared to go
back and face any demons that I hadn't slaughtered in the past. Given they were
probably on their last legs after their last encounter with me, it'd be an act
of mercy to put them out of their misery. Euthanasia, even, though that wasn't
legal in Western Australia.
A blurry hand waved before my eyes.
"Hello? Are you even listening to me?"
I shook my head. "Sorry, Jo. I
should have been."
"I hope you introduce me to him
soon, because any man who can make you daydream that deeply has to be
drool-worthy. I want to know his name, his bank balance and how many times in a
night."
"How
many…?" My eyes widened as her hands eloquently described fast-paced sex.
"None, Jo. If I'd slept with a man, I'd have told you."
She
sighed, the deep sort that said her heart ached for me. "It's been five
years. No one can go that long without wanting sex. I know you got hurt, but I
know you slept with that sleazy guy in Perth, which means you're hardly afraid
of intimacy if you let him touch you. Now, I know you're not pining away for
him, so why haven't you even flirted with anyone else?"
Because
I don't want anyone to touch me. And when the man who's saved your life several
times over, risked his own life and his sanity, plus killed for you and stayed
at your side until you recovered, believes he's not good enough for you, you
start to believe that no one will be. Why would I settle for a one-night stand
with someone who wouldn't kill for me?
Six
years ago, I'd have told Jo all of this, but now I couldn't. After what
happened, some stories were best left untold. And I'm not sure she'd look at me
the same way if she knew about the people I'd killed, Even if they did deserve
it.
"I
haven't met the right one," I replied curtly. "I'm looking for a hero
who's not just Prince Charming."
Jo
grinned. "A knight in shining armour and awe-inspiring sword skills?"
Her hands described the size and nature of his sword.
"A
knight, maybe, but with dented armour and maybe scorch marks up the side, to
show he's taken on an army and he'd walk through fire for me. A sword with a
few nicks in it, so I know it's not just for show. And later, when we're alone,
he'd take it all off and he'd make me feel like I was his whole world."
She
burst out laughing. "So, you're after Sir Perfect with experience? Men
like that don't exist. You might get some of it, but not everything. Just as
long as you don't settle for some sleazy bastard who fools you into thinking
he's perfect, I guess."
Seriously,
what the hell is this, mate?"
Navid
swallowed his huge mouthful of pie. "What do you mean?"
"This!"
I shook the letter at him. "Is ASIO trying to buy my silence or
what?"
Navid
took the letter, held it at arm's length and squinted at it. Looked like he
needed reading glasses. Was he really getting that old? He passed the paper
back to me. "It's not a bad sum for not telling a story you're not going
to talk about anyway. I'd take it and book a nice holiday with it, if I were
single like you. You could spend a month touring in the US or Europe for that,
including flights."
"But
I can't take a holiday if you need me as a witness in the inquiry. Have they
finally set a date yet? It's weird, getting offered money for silence before
the hearings. Is this because there'll be press coverage on the inquiry into
that bastard Mott? And they want to make sure we won't talk to the press?"
Navid
stared at something in the distance. "No, no one's set a date for the
inquiry."
"So
why now?" I persisted. "Why are they throwing money at me? It's
Caitlin they have to worry about, and this is nowhere near as much money as the
TV stations or magazines offer. I don't see her agreeing to take ten grand to
keep quiet. Not when she can get a hundred times that for an exclusive."
Navid
coughed. "I think they'll be offering her a lot more than that. After all,
she's the one who almost died."
"So
it's not just hush money? It's compensation for damages suffered and…all the
other shit it says in the letter? What about my sister? What about Alanna? Did
she get a posthumous payout, too? And a hypocritical letter saying the
department deeply regrets her kidnapping, rape, torture and death, but here's
some money to make it feel better? Shit, if Caitlin's letter says that, expect
fireworks." My heart ached at just the sound of her name. I'd give
anything to see her explode. I'd know she was alive and okay, wherever she was.
He
lowered his voice. "If they can find her. There's a rumour in the
department that all the documents in her file are gone. Papers, digital,
recordings of statements…everything, just gone. And the details of her witness
protection arrangements, too, so that means she's disappeared."
I
stared at him in shock, silence money forgotten. "You don't know where she
is? She could be dead or hurt or God knows what! You have to find her! She'll
need to give evidence at the inquiry, too. I mean, she nearly died because of
him." And I'd get to see her if she came for the inquiry, even if I had to
camp outside the building. I'd know she was alive and okay, even if only for a
moment. "Ask him where she is. He'll know."
"She
was never going to be part of the inquiry. She didn't have any contact with him
beforehand and her statements will be enough, or they would have been, if we
could find them. Now, I don't even know if there'll be an inquiry at all."
He sighed and lobbed his empty pie bag into the nearest bin.
I
stopped dead. "What do you mean, no inquiry? I get paid off to shut up
while that dickhead gets off scot-free? Fuck that."
Navid
sighed. "The justice system isn't geared toward punishing dead
people."
"Yeah,
which leaves Mott, seeing as everyone else is dead. Wait, hang on…are you
saying he's dead, too?" My mouth hung open. "Who killed him? Whoever
did it's a legend and I owe him a carton of beer. I've wanted to do it for
years!"
Navid
coughed out a laugh. "Then you owe Mott a carton of beer, because the
official report says he killed himself. With an ornamental dagger, no less. Bit
melodramatic, if you ask me."
I
found myself shaking my head. "That can't be right. Mott was a mean
bastard. He'd never do the world a favour and off himself. And if he did, he'd
take people with him, or at least set someone up for his murder, so he could
laugh all the way to hell. Who do you suspect?"
Navid
shrugged. "Well, how many people hated him? It could be anyone."
Caitlin
was good with a knife, I thought idly, not willing to believe it was her. If
anyone deserved to be on the point of her blade, it was him. His negligence…his
indifference to what she might suffer had almost gotten her killed.
"Look,
I got to get back to work. They've got Michael and me looking for her. One girl
in twenty million people, if she's even still in the country. The guys in
Canberra want this whole affair over and done with as quickly as possible, so
we got pulled off other projects to look for a girl who doesn't want to be
found." He laughed, but sobered quickly. "Hey, she never mentioned
anything to you, did she? About where she was headed, or the new name she'd be
using? I remember the day Mott told her about the arrangements. She was really
pissed off about them. Wish I'd asked her then."
I
shook my head. "If she'd told me anything, I'd have given in and started
hunting for her long before now. I'd change my name and go into hiding, too, if
I had to." His words started to sink in. "Hang on. She never met
Mott. He visited her in hospital when she was unconscious, but never afterwards.
I'd never have let that bastard anywhere near her!"
He
wouldn't meet my eyes. "She spoke to me privately when you weren't around,
requesting a meeting with your superior. I made the arrangements and I drove
her to the office and home again for both meetings. She spotted some
inconsistencies in what he said, and told me she suspected he was corrupt. I
dismissed it at first, figuring she was just a teenage kid with on overactive
imagination, but some of the things she said rang some pretty loud alarm bells.
Then I started to see him make mistakes, too. It took me four years to get
enough evidence together to warrant an enquiry, and now he's dead, so we'll
never know why he did it, or what else he knew." He laughed quietly.
"I wonder if she knew. I'd love to ask her now."
I
hesitated, then ploughed ahead anyway. "If you find her, can you tell me?
I just want to know that she's okay. It's killing me, not knowing."
He
shook his head and wouldn't meet my eyes. "Nathan, you know I can't do
that. She's in witness protection for a reason, even if the official five years
are up and she can let up on the secrecy now. She's not the sort to go
splashing her photo on every social media channel she can find just because she
can." He inhaled sharply, considering. "I'll tell you what. If we do
find her and I get a chance to speak to her, I'll tell her that you wanted to
know she was okay, and that you'd love to talk to her, but only if that's what
she wants. It's not like you offered to go into hiding with her."
"I
would have if she'd asked me, or even wanted me," I whispered, more to
myself than to him
Demelza Carlton has always loved the ocean, but on her first snorkelling trip she found she was afraid of fish.
She has since swum with sea lions, sharks and sea cucumbers and stood on spray-drenched cliffs over a seething sea as a seven-metre cyclonic swell surged in, shattering a shipwreck below.
Sensationalist spin? No - Demelza tends to take a camera with her so she can capture and share the moment later; shipwrecks, sharks and all.
Demelza now lives in Perth, Western Australia, the shark attack capital of the world.
The Ocean's Gift series was her first foray into fiction, followed by the Nightmares trilogy. She swears the Mel Goes to Hell series ambushed her on a crowded train and wouldn't leave her alone.
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