Get Charlie Noah

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rick Turner pulled up underneath his huge Queenslander home on the outskirts of Port Douglas. He saw the small dark Toyota pull up outside as he locked the door of his car and started to walk towards the timber stairs. A tall thin man approached his house on foot. 'Can I have a word Mr. Turner?'

Rick turned. 'Do I know you?'

'No,' said Pope as he continued to walk towards Rick. 'Just need a bit of information and I'll be on my way.'

Rick peered at the tall man through the darkness. 'Are you a private detective or something?'

'Yes I am actually.'

'Perhaps you can drop by my dive shop in town tomorrow,' said Rick. 'I'm not really in the mood for answering questions at the moment.'

'I would really prefer to get some information right now,' said Pope. 'I need you to tell me where I can find Charlie Noah.'

Rick took a step backwards towards the stairs. 'Don't know anyone by that name.'

'Yes you do,' said the thin man, stepping closer.

'I think you had better leave.'

The knife blade glistened in the faint beams of a street lamp on a distant corner. 'What's your life worth Mr. Turner?'

Rick took another step back and reached for a canoe paddle which was leaning up against one of the poles supporting the house. 'Go away now!'

The thin man lunged at him. Rick swung the paddle and it connected with the thin man's side. The knife however, found it's mark and Rick screamed in pain. He toppled backwards clutching a wound in his chest. 'Where is she?'

Rick screamed again and blood ran from his mouth. A car slowed in the street outside and then stopped. Rick screamed again and then became unconscious.

'Everything alright up there?' a male voice called out. A bright torch was switched on. Pope covered his face with one hand and put the knife behind his back. 'What the hell is going on?' the man called. 'Rick?'

Pope walked quickly back to his car and got behind the wheel. He drove away with the lights off. The man crossed the road and walked to Rick's house. He saw the blood...lots of blood. Rick didn't move and a gurgling sound was coming from his mouth.

'Shit!' The man pulled out his mobile phone and punched a speed dial number. 'I need an ambulance and the police...quickly!'

Ben poured the remainder of the marinade over the char grilled chicken. He put a handful of finely chopped coriander and garlic over each piece of chicken, a few slices of fresh chilli and some line juice to top it off. They sat opposite each other at the dining room table while they ate. Little was said as both were enjoying the food. Each occasionally sipped fine red wine which Ben had been told didn't go all that well with chicken but he made up his own rules where wine was concerned and Charlie didn't seem to mind.

She put down her knife and fork after cleaning up everything on her plate. 'That is probably the best meal I've ever eaten in my life.'

'The chef is flattered madam,' said Ben. 'I tend to agree that it was very nice and the first time I've done that particular dish.'

'It didn't seem complicated but the flavours were amazing.'

'Sometimes less is best,' said Ben.

'What did Rick tell you about me?' asked Charlie as she glanced at the gold bracelet once again around her left wrist.

'I wouldn't let him tell me anything about you,' said Ben. 'He was itching to tell me something.'

Their eyes met as had been the case regularly since they sat opposite each other at the table. 'Why didn't you want to know about me?'