Night Realm: Boxed Set

By Darren G. Burton

This special edition boxed set includes both great novels in the Night Realm series at a bargain price!

Night Realm

Night Realm is a Paranormal Detective novel set on Australia's Gold Coast. It is the story of private detective, Ryan Fox. When he meets the beautiful Selena Thorne, Ryan's life takes a detour into a dark world he thought only existed in folklore and in the minds of movie producers. Selena hires Ryan to acquire the unusual research of scientist, Doctor Marlon Becker. Becker is a haematologist and an expert in blood disorders. When Ryan discovers what the focus of Becker's research is, it puts a whole new spin on things.

Chelsea, Ryan's teenage sister, meets Travis and she soon realizes there is something very different about this attractive and mysterious new boy in town. A relationship quickly develops .No sooner has Chelsea fallen for Travis when she learns he's not actually what he seems.

Meanwhile, Homicide Detective David Marks investigates a spate of strange murders, where victims appear to have had every drop of blood drained from their bodies, with the only apparent injuries being two puncture wounds on the throat. With no solid leads on a suspect and more people dying every few days, Marks is getting nowhere fast in his quest to apprehend the killer.

As the story unfolds the lives of the characters - both human and vampire - come together in a gripping climax where not everyone comes out alive, and not everything goes as planned.

Night Realm 2: Scarlett Dawn

This sequel to Night Realm continues the story of private detective, Ryan Fox. He's loving life, has plenty of work, more money, and he is now dating the beautiful Selena Thorne. Thinking the evil world of vampires is now far behind him, life couldn't be better for Ryan. That is, until he receives a call from German scientist, Dr Marlon Becker.

Needing vampire blood to complete his latest research, Becker coaxes Ryan and Selena into going back to Germany with him, where they hunt down the vampires that killed Becker's associates more than a decade ago. After successfully completing the mission, the trio return to Australia with fresh vampire blood. Only problem is, someone has a hidden agenda. All it takes is a few drops of the blood to turn someone, and that someone is Scarlett.

Scarlett Hayes, a sixteen year old runaway, relishes her new life as an elite member of the living dead. With absolutely no empathy and no soul, Scarlett goes on a rampage, killing people while turning others, ultimately creating a small army that she controls.

With the darkest of nights approaching, Ryan must delve into Scarlett's past in order to find a way to stop her and prevent even greater carnage. Time is fast running out. If he doesn't find Scarlett soon, then thousands more will surely die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darren G. Burton
• Release date: Sep 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310889783

Darren G. Burton

I have been a writer for over 30 years. I've written numerous full length works of fiction and non-fiction, as well as many short stories and [e-mail]

Book preview

Night Realm

One

Michael nodded his head in time to the heavy beat of dance music. The night club was pumping and very busy, with a good ratio of guys to girls. He’d taken up a position near the dance floor, leaning his back against a pole as he casually watched the action on the floor.

One young woman in particular had caught his eye. She was blonde and busty and really knew how to work her supple body. The tiny red skirt she wore barely even reached her thighs, it was that short, and her breasts threatened to explode out of her little white top as she bounced around to the hypnotic beat. Michael felt two kinds of desire surge through him as he watched her. One was of the sexual kind. The other, a deep and burning insatiable hunger.

Every so often she would cast furtive glances his way, then turn her back to him and move that immaculate butt just for his benefit. That’s what he arrogantly presumed, anyway.

A drunken guy staggered in front of Michael and stopped, effectively blocking his view. The guy stood there ogling the girls on the floor. Michael tapped him on the back and the man twisted his head to see who was annoying him. Michael waved his hand to indicate for the guy to move. At first the man opened his mouth to protest, but when Michael shot him a menacing glare, the guy thought better of it and stepped aside. Michael continued to glare at him for a moment longer, just to make sure the message had sunk in, then returned his attention to the hottie in the tiny skirt.

With a flirtatious smile, she moved slowly over to him until she was dancing not more than two feet in front of him. He reached out and touched her arse. When she didn’t object he fondled it some more. The young woman moved closer still, until she was all but giving him a lap dance. The stirrings in his black pants were strong and rigid; especially when she commenced grinding her butt against his crotch. She turned around then, draped her arms over his shoulders and put her face close to his ear.

Hi, she said. I’m Amanda.

Her words slurred just slightly and Michael knew she was on the verge of being drunk. He placed his hands on her hips and smiled at her.

I’m Michael, he said, still grinning, displaying two rows of even white teeth.

Amanda glanced around him. What are you drinking?

Nothing. But I’ll buy you one. He signalled a passing waitress who was on her way back to the bar with a tray of empty shot glasses. Michael placed a twenty on the tray and eyed Amanda expectantly.

Bacardi and Coke, she told the waitress, who then moved off and was quickly swallowed up by the swelling crowd. To Michael, Amanda said, Are you here by yourself?

He nodded and offered her his disarming and handsome smile once more for good measure.

Flying solo tonight. How about you? Who are you here with?

Just some friends.

Female?

Now Amanda grinned. Why? You want more than one of us?

No. Just checking that you’re not here with a male interest. I’m not looking to tread on anyone’s toes.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and said in his ear, No male interest, except you.

Michael breathed deeply of her perfume. It was sweet and intoxicating, as was the underlying raw scent of her young flesh. He fought hard to keep his animal urges under control for now. This was not the place to let loose.

Five minutes later the waitress returned with Amanda’s drink. The young woman snatched it off the tray and immediately took two long sips from the glass. She didn’t bother using the mandatory straw.

Michael busied himself running his hands all over her butt and up and down her smooth thighs while Amanda drank her Bacardi. She swayed back and forth to the music. He had her, he knew. Unless one of her friends came along to stuff things up, Amanda was his tonight. He grinned again. Things were looking good in this new place.

Amanda was just draining her glass when a chubby brunette came up beside her. The new arrival shot Michael a stern look, then said something in Amanda’s ear. The conversation went back and forth between the two girls, then the brunette gave Michael another of those austere glances before disappearing to wherever she’d come from.

What was that about? Michael asked Amanda, although he already knew.

Amanda shrugged nonchalantly. Rebecca’s just being over-protective. Don’t worry about her. It’s all sorted. I’m going home with you tonight. She leaned in close and kissed him, then abruptly pulled back as if bitten and eyed him curiously.

It’s a medical condition, he told her calmly. That’s why I feel cold.

Amanda looked uncertain, her logical brain trying to fight through the haze of all the alcohol she’d consumed.

Are you cold-blooded? she eventually asked.

Not really. It’s too complicated to explain. But don’t worry, he added quickly. It’s all good. He straightened up and placed his left arm around her shoulders, drawing her in close. You want to get out of here?

Amanda nodded, most of the uncertainty now gone from her eyes, and together they left the club.

Outside the night was warm. The streets were almost as crowded as the night club had been. As they passed a small patch of parkland to their right, a fist fight broke out between two drunken guys, with the mates from either side eagerly spurring them on. Michael hurried Amanda past the ruckus, weaving in and out of people, making his way toward the public car park where his red Mercedes coupe awaited them.

Nice car, Amanda commented and lovingly ran her fingertips along the gleaming duco. Is it brand new?

Almost. He unlocked the car and opened the door for her. Hop in.

Michael gave the engine a good rev, squealed the tyres on the pavement and sped out of the car park.

Where’s your place? he asked her.

Amanda’s eyes were starting to flutter from the effects of alcohol and fatigue. She pointed ahead. Just follow this road and take a left at the next set of traffic lights.

Amanda continued to guide Michael through the Gold Coast streets until they were way out in the suburbs, an area known as Riverstone Crossing, only there was no river to be seen.

Strange name then, Michael silently mused.

The area was still under construction, with the shells of new houses being built all around. Amanda pointed left and Michael drove down an empty street that was basically all vacant blocks of land. Right at the end of the street they arrived at a cul-de-sac and he parked in the driveway of the one lone house that stood there. It was a two storey structure, with a balcony running along the entire front of the first floor. The house was dark, the only light source emanating from a dim street lamp. Michael looked around as he tailed Amanda to the front door. He saw no one about.

Do you live alone? he asked.

No. I live here with my parents, but they’re out of town for the weekend.

Amanda unlocked the entrance door and they stepped inside, where they walked in darkness past a living area and kitchen and entered a guest bedroom at the back of the house. Now Amanda flicked a switch and three down lights illuminated the room, to reveal a comfortable looking queen-sized bed covered in a pink quilt and half a dozen pillows in matching cases. She immediately disrobed and went naked into the adjoining bathroom. Michael shed his black clothing and sprawled nude on the bed, awaiting her return. When she finally opened the bathroom door, her eyes roamed his muscular form and she smiled with approval.

Nice bod, she praised and dove onto the bed with him.

The ensuing sex was brief, passionate, and at times even a little rough. Michael didn’t care too much for the pleasure or enjoyment of his sexual partners. For him it was all about Michael and satiating his own desires. He did it his way and in his time. Tonight he wanted a quick result as he had a more urgent hunger to feed.

When the sexual tension had fled his body, he collapsed on top of her with a satisfied sigh, his face buried in her neck.

It was then that he felt the stirrings in his upper jaw as two long, sharp fangs protruded from the gum line. The scent of Amanda’s warm flesh was overpowering now and he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

Amanda squealed in both surprise and pain as Michael sank his razor fangs into the soft flesh of her throat. She writhed around under his weight as warm blood entered the channels in his fangs and he sucked greedily on her vein. Overcome with delirium, his eyes rolled back in his head as he fed on the life fluid. Amanda had now gone limp beneath him. She made no sound. She had passed out. Michael continued to feed until he’d drained virtually every drop of blood from her body. When he was done and filled with renewed energy, he sat up, crimson dripping from his fangs and chin. He glanced down at Amanda’s lifeless form on the bed. Her skin had now taken on a pallid, ivory tone. Some blood leaked from the two puncture wounds on her throat and trickled onto the quilt.

He grinned maliciously. He’d really needed that drink.

Michael quickly got dressed. He then tossed Amanda’s shed night club clothing onto the bed and rolled it and the lifeless body up in the quilt. He easily carried her out to his car and stuffed her into the passenger seat. After starting the motor he drove slowly and quietly until he was out of the estate, then headed west until he reached an area of uninhabited bush land. There he parked the car and dumped the body about twenty metres away from the road, covering it loosely with a few fallen tree branches. He returned to the car feeling more alive than he had in weeks. His hunger had been satisfied.

For now, at least.

Two

Ryan Fox sat in his car bored out of his mind. He tapped the fingers of one hand on the steering wheel while tugging on his left ear with the other, constantly moving around in the seat as if he’d been sitting on a plane for ten hours.

What he really craved was a cigarette. Two weeks ago he’d made up his mind to quit. So far so good; but tonight, sitting in his car with nothing to do but watch the house across the street, the cravings were really getting to him.

He leaned over and flipped open the glove compartment. A small light came on illuminating the interior. Fumbling around within he discovered a few unpaid bills, vehicle registration papers, an empty chocolate bar wrapper, business cards of all kinds - including his own - scattered all about. Damn. There were no smokes to be found. What he did find, though, was a half full pack of chewing gum, the wrapping scarred and squashed and the contents looking anything but appetizing. Ryan squeezed a crushed piece from the remnants of the packet and popped it into his mouth. At least it gave his mouth something to do. He still wanted a cigarette, but the urge wasn’t as bad.

Returning his attention to the house over the road, he saw nothing had changed. The curtains were drawn and he couldn’t see anything inside. Lights burned beyond those curtains.

Would there be any action tonight? he mused as he sat there in darkness.

This was the third night in a row he’d staked out the man’s residence. The first two nights had drawn a complete blank. Nothing had happened. Maybe he was being too obvious by parking right across the street, but he didn’t care.

Ryan rubbed fatigue from his eyes. He hated this part of his job. Working cheating spouse gigs was almost always tedious, dull and totally uneventful. More than fifty percent of the time it proved to be just wasted time on his part, and wasted money on the part of the concerned client.

This guy’s wife, Julia, was a nurse. She currently worked the night shift at the Gold Coast Hospital in Southport. Suspicious that her husband may be engaged in extra-marital activities while she was away at nights, she’d called Ryan a few days ago, asking if he’d look into it for her so she could find out for sure one way or the other. Ryan detested these cases, but times were tough and he really needed the cash, so he’d reluctantly agreed to take it on.

His ‘person of interest’ was a forty-two year old named Brad Davis. Why Julia suspected him of adultery, she couldn’t really tell Ryan when they’d met for coffee to discuss the case and his terms. Just a hunch, she’d said. Women’s intuition or some shit like that.

Ryan chewed tenaciously on his gum, still fantasizing about a nicotine hit.

God, Brad, he said to himself. Don’t be so boring. Do something, anything, before I lose my mind here.

He may be bored to death, but at least he was getting paid to sit there and watch this guy, he reminded himself. It wasn’t a love job, a freebie. There was cash in the hand. And how he needed that right now. Business had never been so quiet before. The last few months were a financial killer. The Global Financial Crisis - or whatever spin the planet’s politicians wanted to put on it to cover their own inadequacies - seemed to be permeating every facet of life across the globe. Here in Australia it hadn’t been quite as bad as in some countries, but the land of Oz certainly hadn’t been spared, either.

Ryan checked his watch and saw that the luminous hands were just ticking past nine o’clock. He sighed heavily, leaned back in his seat and arched his back to try and stretch it. He was only twenty-five, but sitting in the one spot for too long still gave him aches and pains and stiffness. Maybe he’d played too much football in high school? Too much sport in general. He’d been a bit of a sports junkie during his teenage years; rugby league, cricket, soccer, triathlons, abseiling, tennis and squash. The only physical activity he indulged in these days were regular gym workouts, and the very occasional game of squash with a mate.

Across the road the lights went out inside the house.

Ryan sighed heavily again. Great! The boring bastard’s going to bed now.

A moment later he heard a low rumbling sound. A sliver of light appeared beneath the automatic garage door as it started to open. A car engine fired to life. When the garage was fully open a white Toyota Camry Altise drove out and onto the street, the garage door closing behind it. Finally Brad Davis was on his way to somewhere.

Ryan started his car and followed. He waited until his quarry had turned right at the next corner before switching his headlights on. Keeping a respectable distance between them, Ryan tailed Brad onto the Gold Coast Highway, where they drove south toward the plethora of highrise buildings that made up the tourist metropolis of Surfers Paradise; the congested skyline resembling a giant bar graph. It also happened to be where Ryan lived.

Traffic was heavier the closer they got to Surfers and it was slowing to a crawl. Brad’s Toyota was a few cars ahead. Ryan kept slightly to the right of the lane so he could keep an eye on it, a bulky behemoth of a four wheel drive directly in front of him obscuring his view. A taxi attempted to nose in front of him, but backed off when Ryan blasted his horn. It wedged in behind him instead. Two streets later and the four wheel drive exited left, leaving only a small hatchback between Ryan’s ageing black Ford Falcon XR6 and Brad’s Camry.

The footpaths were crowded with groups of young people heading towards the night club strip. Packs of alpha males, groups of scantily clad females, and some mixed groups all on their way for a night of drunken bliss.

A drink and a smoke would be nice right now, Ryan thought as he indicated left onto Beach Road. Up ahead Brad swung right and entered a car park. Ryan waited for several cars to pass in the opposite direction before cutting across the road and driving up to the ticket machine. He pressed the button and a ticket spat out. Tossing it onto the passenger seat he continued on, keeping a distance between himself and Brad. The car park was crowded and it took a bit of driving around before Brad located a free space. Ryan drove past him and found a vacant spot just out of sight in the next aisle. He quickly cut the motor and got out, not wanting to lose sight of his target now that some action was actually happening.

Ryan caught up with Brad out on the street, where it was easy enough to keep himself anonymous amid the crowds that populated the footpaths. While they waited for a set of traffic lights to give them the Walk signal, Ryan kept an eye on Brad from a few metres behind.

He was a shortish and somewhat chubby guy and didn’t appear to be too heavily into fitness. The man was well-dressed in tailored charcoal trousers, gleaming black leather belt and a long-sleeved, maroon button-up business shirt. He wore no tie and the night was far too warm for a jacket. Gleaming black dress shoes that matched his belt covered his small and stubby feet. He had a full head of black hair with flecks of grey through it.

Ryan himself wasn’t really dressed for a night on the town, although he could get away with his outfit. He had on faded blue denim jeans that were fraying around the hems, a white T-shirt that was untucked, and his shoes were Colorado casuals of a cream and tan colour. Not exactly Mr Sharp Dressed Man, but it would have to do.

He took in some eye candy as he trailed Brad along Cavill Avenue and then down Orchid Avenue. The beat of dance music emanated from the various night clubs along the street. Interspersed between the clubs and hotels were restaurants and various eateries. Brad was making a beeline for somewhere in particular and he kept checking his watch as they walked, as if concerned about being late. Ryan checked his own watch and saw that it was twenty to ten. Maybe Brad’s rendezvous was supposed to be at nine-thirty.

At last the chubby man reached his destination. He’d stopped at a restaurant called Roma Italia. Using his amazing detective abilities, Ryan deduced that it must be an Italian restaurant. Ryan ducked between cars and moved across the one way street, where he took up a position on the other side, leaning casually against a concrete wall that divided the grounds of a resort from the street. From there he watched proceedings in the restaurant.

As was common in the warm climate that enveloped the Gold Coast strip, many of the restaurants offered both indoor and al fresco dining, as did Roma Italia. Brad was shown to an outside table by the host, where he seated himself adjacent to a woman who appeared to be somewhat younger than him. With the distance between Ryan and the couple it wasn’t easy to tell, but his eyesight was pretty sharp and he was good with that sort of thing. She was blonde and looked attractive enough. Being seated, the table was covering much of her body, so Ryan couldn’t really determine what her figure was like. From what he could see of her upper body she seemed in reasonable shape.

So was Brad Davis having a sordid affair with this younger woman? Ryan mused. He guessed he was probably about to find out.

Brad leaned over the table and kissed her on the cheek. Nothing too sordid so far.

Over the next quarter of an hour the pair drank a glass of wine each and nibbled on some garlic bread. Nothing much was happening other than chit chat. Some guy beside Ryan was talking rather loudly on his mobile phone. In his free hand he held a smouldering cigarette. The smoke wafted Ryan’s way and the smell of it made him salivate. He had the overwhelming urge to ask the guy for a cigarette, but refrained. He’d been doing well so far. Besides that, he didn’t like sponging off people like some street feral.

Instead, he stepped away a few feet until the smell of smoke was less tempting, then withdrew a small, compact point-and-shoot camera from his pocket. It had a 15X zoom function and HDR, which made it a handy tool in situations like this. When needing to be a little discreet in public places, this camera was a better option that his big and cumbersome DSLR. Sometimes he just used the camera on his iPhone, but the picture quality wasn’t as sharp and the zoom function nowhere near adequate for the most part.

The man with the cigarette moved on, leaving the air clear and fresh, enabling Ryan to keep his mind on the job, rather than dwelling on the loss of a bad habit. He made out like he was a tourist taking snapshots of the scenery - if you could call concrete and pavement ‘scenery’. While he appeared to be randomly focusing on things via the live view on back on the camera, he aimed the lens across the street and zoomed in on Brad and the mystery blonde. At the moment they were busily dining on their main course, another round of wines resting on the table in front of them. Ryan took several shots, then panned to the left and pretended to photograph the busy street in general. After that he put the camera away until the couple had finished their food. If they were indeed having an affair, he figured they may start canoodling after dinner. That didn’t happen. Instead, Brad Davis went over to the counter and fixed up the bill. The blonde rose from her seat and waited for Brad outside the portable barriers that hemmed in the outdoor dining area of Roma Italia. Brad took her hand when he joined her and together they strolled slowly down Orchid Avenue back towards Cavill Avenue.

Ryan waited until they were a good twenty metres or so down the road before he darted across the street, whipping the camera out of his pocket as he went. He wanted to get a shot of them from behind holding hands. He manually set the camera’s ISO level high so there was less chance of the images being blurry; which often tended to happen when taking photos on the move. Ryan snapped off five shots, hoping one would be reasonably clear. He quickly scrolled through the previews and decided they were good enough.

The couple went left into Cavill Mall. Ryan had expected them to turn right and make for the car park, heading back to either his or her place for a sexual romp. Instead, they were walking towards the beach. Sand and sex didn’t go well together, so he figured a couple of their age wouldn’t be planning to get it on down by the water’s edge. Besides, too many police patrolled the sands at night time looking for exactly that kind of activity. On top of that, drinking was banned out on the streets and on the beach. It was a Saturday night and uniformed cops were everywhere.

The mall was crowded. Earlier in the evening there would have been families milling about watching street performers. As the night wore on and the scene got considerably uglier, the families were quickly replaced with swelling groups of revellers. At the end of the mall on the left was one of Australia’s busiest McDonald’s stores. Within the store people lined up to purchase some gourmet fast food.

A narrow road divided the city from the beach. Across the other side of The Esplanade stood an arched sign made of stainless steel. The sign simply said: Surfers Paradise. Ryan reckoned it had to be one of the most photographed signs, not only in Australia, but in the world. Every tourist coming through town either took a photo of it, or had someone else take a photo of them with it. Hell, Ryan was a local and he’d even had himself photographed standing beneath it!

Brad and his date turned right when they arrived at the end of the mall and ascended some concrete stairs. They appeared to be heading up to a night club called Bliss. It was a new club and Ryan had yet to go there. He trailed them up, hoping the bouncers on the door considered him well enough attired to enter.

He deliberately hung back and waited until Brad and the woman were ushered inside, then he casually scaled the remainder of the stairs and stood eye to eye with the bulky, all-dressed-in-black security guy guarding the door. Pulsing techno music came from within, the subwoofer vibrating the very ground Ryan stood on. The bouncer, who looked to be of Polynesian descent - as was common in Gold Coast clubs - scanned Ryan from head to toe with his keen dark eyes. He hesitated a moment, gave Ryan the once over again, and then nodded towards a counter just inside the door.

Ten dollar cover charge, the man grunted.

But I’m a local, Ryan protested.

Ten dollars or you don’t go in.

Ryan decided not to push the issue, although he usually refused to pay to get into local clubs. Tonight he had an agenda that he didn’t want to blow, so he succumbed, stepped inside, withdrew a tenner from his wallet and handed it to the pretty young woman manning the counter. She stamped his wrist and he went on through.

Inside the crowd was an eclectic mix of ages and dress styles. Being a new club many people were obviously trying it out for the first time. After a while it would naturally self-define its clientele. Ryan edged over to the bar and waited ten minutes to get served. In the meantime he tried in vain to search for Brad Davis, but it was just way too crowded to spot him.

The bar ran two thirds of the length of the right wall. It was lit up with blue and pink neon strips of lighting around the edges of the serving area, and a section of alcohol storage space that hung down from above. Wine glasses and champagne flutes dangled upside down from racks bolted to the overhang. Ryan counted ten people working behind the bar, either serving customers, or washing glasses and refilling the ice tubs. The place was a buzz of activity, spurred on by the thumping beat of the music.

Bliss was basically a large rectangle of floor space with the bar on one side and the dance floor down the opposite end from the entry foyer. All the fittings and floor coverings were new, the place having recently been transformed from a large restaurant into a night club. The wall on the left side of the club and a part of the front wall were virtually all glass, apart from a metre high section of painted concrete at the bottom. The windows afforded a great view of the Surfers skyline by night and the beach below.

Ryan finally got served and had to yell above the music to be heard. Bourbon and Coke.

The barman held up a bottle of Jim Beam White Label and Ryan nodded. The drink was poured and Ryan slid ten dollars across the bar, receiving a couple of coins in change. He pocketed the coins, took a sip from his glass, then went to find Brad.

As he searched, he took in more of his surrounds. Round tables with matching stools were scattered frequently throughout the floor space. On the far side where all the windows were there was a series of comfortable, low-set lounges lined up just below the glass. Somehow, despite the crowds, Brad Davis and date had managed to snare one of those lounges and sat close together while people-watching. Brad had his hand on the woman’s thigh. She was wearing black pants so there was no direct skin contact, but the gesture was certainly an intimate one. And she certainly wasn’t objecting.

Ryan only casually glanced their way, then edged through the sea of people towards the dance floor, where he spent a moment checking out the girls as they moved to the rhythm of the music. Some danced well, some not so well, but it was always interesting to watch. There were several small podiums around the floor for people to dance on and all were packed with gyrating bodies. After a few minutes of idle skirt gazing, he forced himself to get his mind back on the job and returned to the rear of the club, hoping he might be able to find somewhere to sit down. As fate would have it he lucked out and snared a table right at the back, just as a couple were vacating it. He took a seat in a position where he could keep an eye on his subject. This time he slipped the iPhone out of his pocket and pretended to be typing a text message, while in actual fact he was taking several photos of Brad nestled in close and cosy with the blonde. He then put the phone away and finished his drink, wondering if that was enough evidence gathered to satisfy his client that her husband was indeed being unfaithful. He was just about to get up to leave when a very attractive woman approached the table.

She was quite tall for a female, maybe only a few inches shorter that Ryan’s six foot frame. The woman looked to be somewhere in her mid-twenties with long, lustrous and silky black hair that fell well past her shoulders. Her face was only lightly made up, the skin pale and almost translucent looking; but not in a sickly way. Ryan found it quite appealing, actually. She had full lips coated in red gloss and black eyeliner to enhance her very dark eyes. Her face was oval shaped, tapering towards a proud chin and jaw, high cheekbones and a slightly pointed nose. She moved with an air of grace and confidence, the long black evening gown clinging to a perfect and classic hourglass figure. The woman was very slim without being skinny. On her hands she wore black silk gloves that ran halfway up her forearms. She smiled as she drew alongside Ryan’s table, exposing a perfect set of teeth.

Before she introduced herself she signalled over a waitress, who quickly scurried over. It became obvious to Ryan then that this woman either managed or owned the club.

I’d like to buy you a drink, she said close to Ryan’s ear. He got a whiff of expensive perfume that he couldn’t name. It smelled delicious. She eyed his empty glass. Are you drinking bourbon?

Good guess, he said, offering her his best smile. Thank you.

My pleasure. The woman instructed the waitress to hurry back with a bourbon and Coke, then she took a seat beside Ryan. My name’s Selena Thorne, she said and extended a hand to him. Ryan took it lightly in his, the feel of the silk somewhat sexy to the touch, and shook it once.

Ryan Fox, he said. Do you manage this club?

She nodded. Manage and own.

You’ve done a good job with the décor. Ryan looked into her eyes. They were dark to the point of almost being black. He could barely separate the irises from the pupils. It made them hard to read. They were nice eyes, though.

I’m afraid I can’t take the credit for that. The original owners ran out of funds just as they finished refurbishing. Which was bad luck for them, but fortuitous for me. I took over the lease and the license at a very reasonable price.

How long have you been open?

Two weeks tonight.

Ryan grinned. Excellent. Your two week anniversary. It looks like business is going well. He scanned the crowded club once more.

I’m happy, she said. Selena ran her eyes over him briefly before returning her attention to his face. So what’s a handsome young guy like yourself doing sitting here drinking alone?

He held her gaze. I didn’t think I was alone. He saw a twinkle in her eyes then. Actually, I’m working right now.

Selena chuckled. Where do I get a job like yours? Sitting in a night club, drinking for a living.

It’s not quite like that, Ryan explained. I’m working on a case. He pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to her.

When she read it her eyebrows raised, her interest piqued. Foxhunt Investigation and Detection Agency. So you’re a private detective.

He nodded, cringing at the sound of his business name. He still wasn’t sure if he liked it or despised it. Right now I’m working an infidelity case.

Sounds intriguing.

Not really. They’re quite boring. He nodded subtly in the direction of Brad and company. That’s the errant husband right there with his mistress. Brad and the woman were now affectionately pecking each other on the lips. I think I’ve gathered enough information and evidence now to satisfy my client that her husband is being unfaithful. It’s unfortunate, but the truth often is.

Well put, Selena agreed. She looked at Ryan’s business card again, her brow slightly furrowed. Mind if I keep this?

Not at all. That’s what they’re for.

I just may require your services in the near future. She stood up, leaned in close and added, Enjoy the rest of your evening, Ryan. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. Good luck with your case and I’ll talk to you soon.

He smiled up at her. It’s been a pleasure to meet you too. And, he raised his glass, thanks again for the drink.

Selena Thorne gracefully melded back into the crowd and was gone. Ryan watched her until she’d disappeared. He definitely hoped to hear from her, even if it was just work related. When he looked back in Brad’s direction, he saw Brad and the blonde on their feet preparing to leave.

Ryan tailed them back to the car park, where the mystery woman got in behind the wheel of a blue Nissan Pulsar. Hanging back in the shadows, Ryan couldn’t hear any of the conversation that ensued. She drove off and Brad headed back to his Camry. Ryan trailed him out of the car park and expected him to turn north on the highway. Instead, he indicated left and drove south. Ten minutes later they were in the backstreets of Mermaid Beach. Brad came to a stop outside an old brick home, where a blue Nissan Pulsar was parked in the carport. Ryan continued down the street, performed a U-turn, switched off the Ford’s headlights and cruised to a stop just south of Brad’s car, another parked car between them.

Brad was in the house for several hours before finally emerging. Ryan could only guess what had been happening inside, but he had a pretty fair idea. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were having sex. Ryan’s stomach felt hollow. He didn’t know his client, Julia, but he felt for her, and wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news to her; and possibly her heart. But what could he do? He was hired to find out the facts, and the facts were what they were.

Ryan waited until Brad’s car had turned right at the end of the street before starting the engine and getting back on his tail. Brad ended up driving straight home. No sooner had he entered his house and all the lights went out, obviously going to bed and pretending he’d been there all night.

You’re days of cheating are numbered, Brad, Ryan thought with satisfaction as he headed for home.

Three

On Monday morning Ryan met up with Julia Davis at a café in Main Beach. It was a clear, sunny day with just the hint of a breeze about to keep the ambient temperature pleasant. He was dressed in jeans again, wearing the same shoes and had on a red polo shirt. His eyes were hidden behind the dark lenses of cheap sunglasses

Julia’s expression was forlorn as she scrolled through the images of Saturday night on Ryan’s compact camera. When she was done she repeated the process before handing the camera back.

I’d like copies of those, she said and stared down into her coffee mug. She toyed with the froth of her cappuccino with a spoon while Ryan brought up the images from inside Bliss Night Club on his iPhone. He slid the phone across the table to her and the woman reluctantly picked it up. And these as well, she said after viewing the images of her husband cuddling on the lounge with the blonde woman. I might need them in the case of a divorce settlement.

Ryan nodded. I’ll send copies through to your email address this afternoon.

Thank you, she offered, though Ryan hardly felt like he was doing her a great favour. He felt like shit right now, having just all but proven to Julia that her husband was getting laid elsewhere. And with a younger woman, to rub a little more salt in. He really wasn’t sure what to say to her.

What else happened the other night? she wanted to know. After they left this night club. She handed the phone back.

Ryan took a deep breath and said, He went back to her house.

And? she prompted.

He shrugged. Well, I can’t say for certain what he was doing in there, but he was inside for several hours. Then he went home.

Julia’s sombre expression now transformed into one of anger. Her face reddened as scenarios of Brad bonking another female obviously flooded her mind. Ryan saw her visibly shudder. Once again he didn’t know what to say to her. Everything he thought of just sounded lame or patronizing, so in the end he kept his mouth shut. After all, he was a detective and not a counsellor.

Ryan had so far never experienced the cheating partner situation and he hoped he never would. Right now he was single and life seemed simpler that way. He’d had girlfriends ever since the early high school years, but nothing very serious and nothing for quite some time.

A sealed envelope was slid across the table. Ryan didn’t immediately pick it up. He drank the rest of his flat white coffee and clinked the cup back down onto the saucer.

That’s the remainder of your fee, Julia said, her pale blue eyes reflecting the sunlight. I don’t think I’ll be needing your services any further. You’ve shown me and told me all I need to know. She looked at him. Do I owe you any other expenses?

Ryan shook his head and stuffed the envelope of cash into the back pocket of his jeans.

Can I order you another coffee? he asked her.

She considered it. I feel like getting drunk, but that wouldn’t help, would it.

Probably not, he agreed and thought silently: But it would numb the pain. The urge for a cigarette suddenly gripped him. Habit by association, so used to smoking with a coffee; especially at an outdoor cafe.

I wonder what went wrong? Julia said, more to herself than to Ryan. Her expression looked vacant as she drifted off somewhere. Abruptly she sat up straight, leaned forward with her elbows on the table and looked him hard in the face. Do you think I’m attractive?

Ryan was momentarily thrown by the unexpected request to appraise her level of sex appeal. He cleared his throat, preparing to answer. While she wasn’t ugly, he didn’t really find her attractive either. She was okay. Nondescript.

Sure, he lied, trying hard to inject some enthusiasm into the word. Many men would find you attractive. But he could tell by the dubious look on her face that she wasn’t buying what he was selling. "Look, maybe you’re not my type, but that doesn’t mean you’re not appealing to plenty of other men out there.

I don’t know anything about you or your husband, so I’m not even going to attempt to touch on what might be wrong, or has gone wrong, in your relationship. Chances are you’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t blame yourself for Brad’s weaknesses. That’s his problem. The way I see it, Julia, is that you’re too good for him. I know this sucks and I know it hurts and that anything I say right now isn’t going to make the situation better, but in time you’ll know it’s true. Trust me on that. He shrugged. Maybe you can mend your marriage, but if you can’t, chances are down the line, you’ll be better off without him.

You’re probably right, she said, although she still didn’t looked convinced.

Time would sort it out.

Ryan got up from his seat and Julia did the same. They shook hands and Julia managed a strained smile.

Thank you, Mr Fox, she said.

Ryan nodded. I wish I only had better news for you. Good luck with everything.

They then went their separate ways.

* * *

Sean and Stacey arrived back at their home in Riverstone Crossing late Monday afternoon. He parked the car in the driveway and he and his wife got out. Summer was coming so the sun was still quite high in the cloudless sky. They’d just experienced a great weekend at a health retreat in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. Both felt tired, but at the same time rejuvenated.

Once inside the home Stacey called out to her daughter, Amanda? We’re back!

There was no reply.

She’s probably still at work, Babe, her husband said casually.

A look of confusion crossed Stacey’s features. She normally has Monday off. Having a thought then, Stacey opened a door on the opposite wall to the kitchen. Her car’s here, she reported, staring into the gloomy double garage.

Sean replied, Then she’s probably gone visiting friends.

Without her car?

He shrugged. Maybe a friend came by and picked her up? Sean took a beer from the fridge and cracked it open, taking a long swallow of the amber fluid. Ahh! he said with satisfaction. Those health retreats don’t understand the positive benefits of a good, cold beer.

Stacey went down back to Amanda’s room. A moment later she returned to the kitchen, looking and feeling even more confused.

The quilt’s gone from her bed, and the bed’s all messed up, she said in a strained voice.

What are you so worried about? Sean wanted to know. She’s a big girl now and she can take care of herself. She probably had a sleepover at one of her friend’s places.

Stacey shook her head. I’m not so sure. She looked into her husband’s eyes. Sean? I have a bad feeling about this.

Four

After returning home for a sleep, the consecutive late nights having drained him, Ryan did as promised and emailed Julia Davis copies of all the photographs he had taken. He pulled the money from the envelope she had given him, counted it, then stuffed the bills into his wallet. He’d made a much-needed couple of grand from the gig. Some bills would be getting paid.

He tugged on his ear a few times, then sat back in his chair at the computer desk and gazed out the full-length glass windows of his large bedroom, where he took in the late afternoon view of Surfers Paradise and the placid blue of the ocean beyond.

Ryan lived in a two bedroom, two bathroom highrise apartment in the centre of Surfers. It was an older style apartment, which meant it was quite spacious and roomy, unlike many of the modern places. The rent was also surprisingly cheap, and had virtually stayed the same for the four years he’d lived there. He used to share the place with a mate and they halved all expenses, but that all changed a year ago.

On the desk he saw a business card for a real estate agent up on the Sunshine Coast. He picked up the card and dialled the number on his mobile. It was answered on the third ring.

Hi, Tessa. It’s Ryan Fox here. Just wondering if you’ve had any interest in the house?

The estate agent spoke so loudly, he was always forced to hold the phone away from his ear so he didn’t risk perforating an ear drum.

Hi, Ryan! she bellowed. No, no luck so far.

Is anyone interested? Anyone put any offers in?

Not yet, but I had quite a successful open home on Saturday morning, so I’m expecting some offers to flood in from that.

Really? He was more than a little surprised. That does sound promising. He took a deep breath and said, Look, I know times are tough and the market is way down, but I really need to get that house sold. I’m willing to look at any reasonable offer.

Well, I did stress that you should have taken the last offer we had. I realize it was well under the asking price, but in the current economic climate-

I know, Ryan cut in, but I wasn’t as desperate to sell three months ago.

I understand. I’ll do my best.

Thanks, Tessa. Keep me informed. I’ll talk to you soon.

Will do. Bye, Ryan.

Ryan placed the phone down on the desk and glanced around the room. Basically there was just a queen-sized bed with four pillows. The pillowcases were all different. Nothing matched. Even the black and white quilt that covered the bed was a different colour and design from that of the pillows. There was a bedside table and lamp. A small TV with DVD player rested on a cabinet beside the bed near the windows. The room had built-in wardrobes and a small ensuite bathroom. The only other furniture in the room was the desk he was sitting at.

Now that Julia’s case was over he had no cases to work on, which wasn’t good. So far he’d heard nothing from night club owner, Selena Thorne. Possibly she was just being polite the other night when he’d met her, and didn’t really have anything for him to work on.

He shrugged. If she called, she called. If not, something else would come up.

He took a shower for something to do and shaved the stubble from his face for the first time in days. When he was done he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His short, dark-brown hair could probably use a bit of a tidy up with some scissors. The whites around the blue of his eyes were surprisingly clear, considering all the late nights he’d had recently. His body was lean and fit and chiselled, accentuated by his olive skin and a light sun tan. He slapped his flat stomach with satisfaction and put some clothes on.

Ryan left the bedroom and went into the old kitchen. He searched the refrigerator for something to make for dinner. He withdrew a container of leftover pasta from God knows how long ago. Through the clear plastic lid he could see flecks of green mould, so he tossed it in the bin.

Unable to find much to eat and making a mental note to do some grocery shopping, Ryan opted for sausages and fried eggs on toast in the end. As he was cooking up enough for two, he heard the entrance door open and close.

Dinner’s almost ready! he called out to his sister.

Not hungry, came her abrupt reply and he heard her bedroom door slam shut.

She sounds like she’s in a great mood. Again, he mumbled as he dished up plates for the pair of them, despite her saying she didn’t want any.

The air was filled with the salivating aroma of eggs, sausages and toast as Ryan sat down at the small dining table to eat. Before him was the living room with an LCD television in the corner near the full-length glass balcony doors. There was a three-seater lounge, beige in colour, and two matching armchairs. A square wooden coffee table rested on the carpet between the furniture. Some newspapers, remote controls and a chess board sat on top of it. Through the glass doors Ryan had a view of the ocean some three hundred metres away. The outlook was partially obstructed by other buildings, but he could still see the water and a stretch of sand. It was twilight out there now, just about everyone having left the beach for the day.

He tucked into his food and didn’t realize just how hungry he was until he’d swallowed the first bite. The food was washed down with a glass of water. When he was done, he washed his plate, cutlery and the frying pan.

His sister still hadn’t emerged from her bedroom, so he went to her door and knocked firmly on it. Chelsea? The only response he got was the sound of water running in her shower.

Ryan went out on the balcony and gazed out over the lights of Surfers Paradise by night. Twilight was succumbing to full dark now and he could no longer see the ocean. It was just an indistinct dark smudge beyond the line of buildings. Twenty floors below the highway cut a path through the concrete jungle. That road was never quiet. Even when he’d stood out there at three in the morning it was still relatively busy. Didn’t anyone ever sleep?

A half hour later Chelsea emerged from her room and stepped into the living room. When Ryan turned and looked at his seventeen year old sister, his jaw dropped.

Where the hell are you going looking like that? he demanded.

Chelsea was five feet, six tall and had bleached blonde hair, preferring that to her natural medium-brown hue. Her figure was fairly solid, but well-proportioned and quite curvaceous. Even though she was his sister, Ryan could see she was very pretty; a fact backed up by the amount of attention she’d received from guys ever since reaching adolescence. Her crystal blue eyes shone with