Jozsa Neptune King Down Under

1. Auflage 2014
ISBN: 978-1-4835-3974-4
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 218 Seiten

In this the 8th book of the Neptune King series. Shark's father is brutally murdered and his younger brother is arrested for the crime. The police believe Dolph has motive as his mother was savagely beaten by his father in a drunken rage and he has no alibi. Despite having a price on his head by the notorious biker gang, the Banderos, Shark drops everything to rush home to Australia, while Neptune stays in England to keep the agency running. It's Shark's desire to keep this in the family, but when his elder brother Lance is shot by the bikers in a case of mistaken identity, Neptune and Rachel come out to help. As the evidence continues to pile up against Dolph, Shark concentrates on his only clue and just as he and Neptune make a breakthrough connecting the murder to organized crime, they are kidnapped by the bikers. Death is inevitable until Rachel buys into it with a little detective work of her own and the help of Shark's sister Suzie and Vessa Kelly.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Jozsa, Magda

Leseproben

CHAPTER ONE

As he staggered away from the weatherboard house muttering and swearing obscenely, he wiped his hand across his face. It came away bloody, eliciting a new string of curses. Pulling a grubby, grease stained handkerchief from his pocket he wiped his bleeding nose. There was a foul taste in his mouth, the beer having soured and worn off. He hated what the drink did to him and how it made him act, but he couldn’t stop drinking. It began as an escape, now it was habit.

He made his way to the garage, his brown eyes moody as he took in the dark building and silent petrol pumps. Work brought him no joy, either. Every time he came here it reminded him of his own failure. He once owned this place, but didn’t have the business skills to make it a paying concern. Now he worked for the man that bought him out. Home was no refuge tonight, and he had nowhere else to go. At least he had a bottle of whiskey stashed in the spare parts drawer.

He fished his keys out and opened the door. All was silent and dark. He made his way to the workshop without bothering to turn on the light and dug out the bottle. He took a deep swallow. The alcohol stung his cut lip, but he barely felt it as the booze started to warm and comfort him the minute it hit his stomach. He sat down on the empty ramp and brooded.

It was his wife’s fault. She deserved what she got. When he came home from the pub there was no dinner on the table. Instead, she was pasting those damn photos into her album again. He saw red. He busted a gut all day working, the least she could do was have dinner ready when he got home. The fact that she never knew when he was coming home was beside the point.

He took another deep swallow from the bottle, then straightened up suddenly and frowned. He carefully lowered the whiskey bottle to the ground and stood up. Someone was in the deserted garage. The door from the shop opened and he heard footsteps entering the workshop in the darkness.

He moved silently over to his workbench, his hand closing over a tyre iron. He hefted it and edged his way towards the door. He could make out a faint shape.

The shape moved further into the workshop.

Brian Johnson jumped forward and flicked on the light. His eyes lit on the intruder. “What are you doin’ here?” he asked in surprise.

A wrench slammed down on his head. He grunted once and collapsed. His attacker swung the wrench again and again, a squelching sound accompanying the last blow, his blood splattering.

? ? ?

The two teenagers sat at the back of the bus, their expressions grim. The boy, a handsome, blond, eighteen-year-old was tall and well developed. His arm was draped loosely around the normally pretty sixteen-year-old brunette who sat beside him. One of her eyes was swollen shut, the black bruise already beginning to show. Her other eye was red and puffy from crying, and she twisted a soggy hanky nervously in her hand.

The boy gave her shoulder a squeeze. “She’ll be all right, Suzy. You heard what the doctor said. The operation went well and she’ll be home again in no time.”

Suzy sniffed. “She just looked so awful, Dolph. I thought she was dead.”

Dolphin Johnson’s lips set into a hard line. He’d been outside in the wood shed chopping wood. He never heard his father come home. He just finished loading the wood box and was carrying it to the back door when he heard his sister’s screams. He dropped the box and dashed inside.

The first thing he saw when he ran into the kitchen was his mother lying on the floor. Her face bloody and ashen and her hair blood soaked. For a terrifying instant he thought she was dead. His sister screamed again as their father struck her with his closed fist, sending her plummeting over the upturned table.

“Yuh flamin’ bastard!” swore Dolph running forward, fists swinging. He lit into his father, punching him, pounding him without mercy. His attack was fast and furious, not giving the bigger man time to defend himself properly. His father struck back, but Dolph was unstoppable.

Brian Johnson managed to land one punch on his son that sent him staggering backward. It was the break he needed. He lurched from the kitchen and out the front door, hurrying away from the house, not sparing a thought for his unconscious wife and terrified daughter.

Dolph, breathing heavily and wincing from the punch his father landed straightened up and looked around the room. Suzannah was on the floor by her mother, crying uncontrollably.

Dolph hurried over to her. “Is she alive?” he asked anxiously.

“I don’t know.”

Dolph dropped to his knees and felt for his mother’s pulse. It was there, but weak and her breathing was not natural. He stood up, grabbed the tea towel off the rack and tossed it to his sister. “Hold that to Mum’s head, try and stop the bleeding. I’m gunna call an ambulance.” He hurried to the phone in the hall.

Although the wait was less than ten minutes, it felt like an eternity as they sat by their mother. As soon as he heard the siren, Dolph jumped up and ran to the door.

The paramedics made short work of loading the injured woman onto a stretcher.

“Can we come with yuh?” asked Dolph.

The paramedic looked the two grief stricken teenagers over. “Yeah, sure. You can ride up front. While they loaded Mrs Johnson into the back, Dolph locked up. Under other circumstances, a ride in an ambulance would have been a novelty. Now it was a nightmare.

They rushed the stretcher into the emergency department the minute they reached the hospital. Dolph wanted to follow it through the doors, but was held back.

“We need you to give us some details,” said the nurse, dressed in a crisp, white uniform, looking businesslike and impersonal.

“But Mum?”

Her expression softened, as she looked the young man over. “They’ll take care of her. You’d only be in the way while they’re assessing her.” She looked at Suzy and automatically reached out a hand to brush the hair from her face. “Looks like we need to check you out, too,” she added.

Suzy sat down on a hard plastic seat while Dolph went to the counter and answered all the questions to the best of his ability. He sat beside Suzy and waited until the nurse called to them five minutes later.

Valerie Johnson was pale and still unconscious, but she had been cleaned up. The emergency room doctor looked as young as Dolph, though his appearance was deceptive if the grey hair at his temples was any indication. He looked sympathetically at them, his eyes resting on Suzy for a minute, taking in her injuries with a practiced eye.

“Your mother is going to need surgery. She has some internal bleeding, possibly a ruptured spleen. We need to get her to theatre as soon as possible.”

Dolph nodded. “Will she be all right?”

“We’ll know more once we’ve got her in theatre. I’m going to need someone to sign the consent form. Where is your father?”

“Damned if I know. He did this to her, the bastard. If he was here I’d kill him.” Dolph’s eyes glittered with anger, and his fists clenched tightly.

The doctor glanced down and noted his skinned knuckles. “Is there anyone older you can call?”

Dolph shook his head. “My brothers live in England, and my older sister lives in New South Wales.”

“Well, I guess it’s you then.” He held out his clipboard with the consent form on it and gave a quick description of what the surgery entailed.

“What about her head?” asked Suzy, her voice wavering.

“Yes, she’s hit her head and has a scalp laceration. It’s a superficial injury. They always bleed heavily and look worse than they are, but we don’t think it is too serious.”

Dolph handed the clipboard back to him.

“Thanks. Now we need to get her prepped for O.R. Why don’t you wait in the cubicle next door and I’ll send a nurse to check you two over,” said the doctor.

“I’m all right,” replied Dolph brusquely. “Check Suzy over. I’ll wait outside.”

The doctor nodded and led Suzy to the cubicle next door.

Before leaving, Dolph looked at his mother. His eyes misted over, and for the first time in his life he felt like crying. He blinked back the tears, leant down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll never let him hurt you again, Mum,” he said, not noticing the nurse standing by the entrance to the cubicle. He sniffed and straightened up, saw the nurse and quickly left. He hurried through the swing doors and saw all the people sitting in the waiting room and just kept going. He had to get out of there before the dam burst and he blubbered like a girl.

? ? ?

The bus pulled up at their stop.

“We’re here,” said Suzy, standing up and distracting Dolph from his thoughts. He stood up and followed her off the bus. They walked the half block to their house. He fished the keys from his pocket and was just putting it into the front door when a squad car pulled up outside the gate. Two policemen jumped out of the car and came towards them. One was in uniform, one in a cheap suit.

“Dolphin Johnson?” asked the tall, lanky man in plain clothes.

“Yes?” Dolph looked at them curiously. “You here about Mum?”

“No. We are here about your father. I’m Senior Sergeant...