With Murderous Intent

By Maggi Andersen

She fled Ireland because her life was in danger, now her troubles are worse...

To escape a murderous stalker, Caitlin Fitzgerald flees her home in Ireland and takes a governess job in the top end of Australia, determined to guard her heart against further hurt. In her chosen safe haven, she has poisonous snakes, wild boar and crocodiles to contend with. She learns to deal with those. But there are two men at Tall Trees cattle station who test her resolve. The very handsome and moody station owner, Jake Monterey, who has issues of his own, and Harry Phillips, the big, easy-going station hand.
Jake has two adorable children, and Caitlin loves her job, but when danger follows, must she flee again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maggi Andersen
• Release date: Jan 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9780994229168

Maggi Andersen

Maggi is a USA TODAY bestselling and award winning author of historical romance.She fell in love with the Regency era while reading the wonderful novels of Georgette Heyer and Jane Austen, the fascinating Victorian era of Jane Eyre, and those great novels of the Bronte sister’s as well as Victoria Holt’s Gothics. After gaining a BA and an MA in Creative Writing, she decided to write her own book. She haven’t stopped since and has 50+ novels published!She lives with her husband in the beautiful Dandenong ranges of Australia. Their free time is spent in the garden – they love the birds and the local wildlife.Improper LadiesThe Mysterious Lord Ballantine (Coming soon!)Falling for the EarlRavished by the RakeImproper LordsThe Duke's MasqueradeThe Marquess Takes a MisstepThe Earl's Brazen BargainThe Never Series:Never Doubt a DukeNever Dance With a MarquessNever Trust and EarlOnce a Wallflower Series:Presenting Miss LetitiaIntroducing Miss JoannaAnnouncing Miss TheodosiaThe Baxendale Sisters: Five sisters find love in their first London SeasonLady Honor’s DebtLady Faith Takes a LeapLady Hope and the Duke of DarknessThe Seduction of Lady CharityThe Scandalous Lady MercyDangerous Lords:The Baron’s BetrothalSeducing the EarlThe Viscount’s Widowed LadyGoverness to the Duke’s HeirEleanor Fitzherbert’s Christmas MiracleBethMost are available in print, and some in audio.Enjoy a Victorian gothic mystery? The Baron’s WifeA Victorian ghost story? White Lady LostA Victorian mystery romance? The Mystery at Falconbridge Hall—a RONE nominee.Some books from the Leabhar Books are available in Portuguese.Coming soon in Portuguese: The Baxendale SistersLike a chilling ghost story? White Lady LostNo. 1 Amazon bestselling historical romance listThe Marquess Meets His MatchCheck out my contemporary romantic suspense stories, children's books, and young adult novels.I support the wonderful work of the RSPCA and the wildlife services in Australia.

Book preview

WITH MURDEROUS INTENT

by

Maggi Andersen

Copyright

Copyright 2015 With Murderous Intent by Maggi Andersen Refreshed

Copyright 2013 by Maggi Andersen

Published by Maggi Andersen

Cover Artist: Melody Simmons

By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book. All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.

Please Note

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is coincidental and are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9942291-6-8

Contents

PROLOGUE

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

MAGGI

PROLOGUE

Dublin, Ireland:

Caitlin had to get her life back. Return to the human race. It seemed a good beginning when Blain, another teacher at her school, invited her to see the new production of Hamlet. They enjoyed the play and parted after coffee, with him expressing a desire to do it again. Soon.

Her spirits buoyed, Caitlin went in search of a cab. Twenty minutes passed and not one appeared. Aware that she had school the next day, she began to walk home. As she hurried along, shadows reached out to her across the pavement in the silent, poorly lit streets.

After she’d walked the length of one block, footsteps sounded behind her. Why hadn’t she waited for a cab? She tried to penetrate the darkness, but couldn’t see a soul in the dark street. Her heart banged against her ribs. Annoyed, she admitted she was being foolish; it was because her nerves were bad that she reacted unreasonably. At least she wore low-heeled boots. She increased her pace.

The footsteps started up again their pace matching hers. Caitlin spun around. Nothing but the distant sound of traffic. Her mouth went dry her pulse racing. In this leafy district, the big houses were set back with long driveways. No one would hear her cry out. Should she run into one and ask for help, she would have to negotiate a dark garden. It was late, and so far, she hadn’t seen a light on anywhere. And what would she say?

Was she losing her mind?

Three blocks from home, and it felt like miles. She broke into a run and heard racing feet smacking the path behind her. Gasping, she fled full tilt for a block until she couldn’t run anymore. She pulled up, her breath rasping painfully in her throat. Volleyball had kept her fit or so she thought, but fear robbed her of breath and reduced her to a feeble wreck.

Bent double by a stitch in her side, she listened for those panic inducing sounds behind her, but it was quiet, with only the whisper of the breeze rustling the leaves. She didn’t trust the silence and took off again, trying to pace herself, pushing on through the pain which remained in her side, half bent over and stumbling.

Just when she’d convinced herself it had been her imagination, the footsteps started up again. Forcing down a rising hysteria, she muttered an anguished groan. It seemed as if someone was cruelly tormenting her. She turned a corner and stopped, looking out from behind a tree. There he was! Confirmation that she was not losing her mind. At the far end of the street, a man’s tall outline was briefly illuminated by the streetlight, before he melted back into the shadows. Knowing she was right only made her more terrified, and ignoring the pain of her protesting muscles, she pushed herself to race flat out for the last block and a half. She hadn’t heard him since she stopped. Maybe he’d gone away.

And she was home!

She was half way across the road when a car roared around the corner and headed straight for her.

One

Six Weeks Later

In ten hours, she would leave Ireland, possibly forever. Caitlin Fitzgerald eased her stiff shoulders and stirred the froth in her coffee with a spoon. The café was overheated, the air stuffy with the scents of the overdressed crowd, sheltering from the weather. A heavy downpour reduced the view through the window to a blur of moving shapes.

Caitlin’s best friend, Rebecca Dunton, a teacher at the school where Caitlin had taught until last week, furled her umbrella as she entered through the door, her short brown hair curling damply around her face.

She ordered a drink at the counter and came and sat down.

It’s bad news, she said without preamble.

Caitlin let out a breath. Somehow, she’d convinced herself there was nothing seriously wrong with Becky. Tell me.

It’s cancer.

Oh my God, Becky! Caitlin leapt up to hug her.

They’re sure?

Becky nodded and, with a shaky hand, picked up the coffee cup just delivered to the table. They plan to remove the lump. I go into the hospital next week.

I can’t leave now. I’ll cancel.

Becky slammed the cup down, spilling froth onto the table. She reached over the table and grabbed Caitlin’s hand. You will go. You must.

But you need support through this. Caitlin swiped away a tear. I want to be here for you.

Becky adjusted her glasses with a finger, a gesture so familiar it tore at Caitlin’s heart. No, my sweet. You will go as planned. You know you can’t stay here.

But—

If you stayed in Dublin, I’d be worried about you the whole time. Now that wouldn’t be good for me, would it?

I guess not, Caitlin said doubtfully.

Good, then it’s settled. We’ll keep in touch. She grinned. Send me snaps of those Aussie cowboys, especially the ones that look like Hugh Jackman.

I’ll be happy to. I’m not looking for romance though. I just want to work.

Becky frowned. I know you’ve been badly hurt Cat, but you can’t shut yourself off from life.

I doubt I can trust a man again.

Maybe not for a while. But you’re about to be surrounded by sexy Aussie males! At least try and enjoy it.

Cat shook her head. The last thing she wanted was a romantic entanglement. I believe there’s some mobile reception, although it’s unreliable. I’ll buy a new phone when I get there and ring you every chance I get.

You won’t. It would cost you a king’s ransom. Email or text me whenever you can.

You can believe it. Caitlin pushed a piece of paper over the table. I’ve got a new email address. And I’m there at the end of the phone, anytime you want to talk.

Becky gave a wan smile. I know you will be, Cat. And God bless you for it. But I won’t relax until you’re safe. I wouldn’t relish that twenty-three hour flight!

Caitlin smiled back. The flight doesn’t worry me. I’ll catch up on reading and sleep a little.

Let me know when you land in Australia.

****

Australia:

Caitlin gazed out the window of the Greyhound tourist bus which had brought her up from Broome. Australia had been a shock from the moment she stepped off the plane. She’d spent a few days wandering around Perth, a modern city she quite liked. Then she’d headed north. The country seemed so vast and hot and arid after Ireland, the colors vivid under a bright blue sky. Had she done the right thing in coming here? She wanted so much to build a new life for herself, somewhere where she felt safe. If she couldn’t feel safe on the other side of the world, there was no hope for her. She wondered how Becky was. Caitlin had texted her when she reached Australia. Needing to hear her voice, she’d rung her from her Broome hotel room during the night. Although sick as a dog from the anesthetic, Becky had put on a cheerful front. It was so like her. She was to begin chemo immediately. The news frightened Caitlin, but she fought not to show it.

With a hiss of brakes, the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere. The driver leapt out and pulled Caitlin’s suitcase from the storage area. With a nod at her as she alighted, he jumped back behind the wheel and drove off in a swirl of dust.

Caitlin looked around. She might well be the last person on the earth. The oppressive heat was far worse than anything she had imagined. She put on her inadequate cotton sunhat. Moving to a straggly gum tree nearby, she sat on her suitcase in the tiny circle of shade, and began spreading sunscreen lotion on any exposed bits of skin. She was sweating in her jeans—she’d have to change as soon as she arrived at the house.

The minutes ticked by, and she kept craning her neck to look up and down the road. Nothing.

The mid-day sun rose to bleach the sky to a shimmery silver haze, distorting everything in the distance. She pulled her hair free of its band, and it settled like a warm damp towel on her neck. What if no one came? As she’d run out of water, she could die right here.

Down the road, a trail of dust rose. She gasped with relief at the sight of another human being. The truck rattled as it drove around her in a tight arc, pulling up with a spray of pebbles and red dirt.

The door flung open and a big man with a grin leapt out. You’ve got to be Caitlin. He grabbed her case and threw it in the back beside a panting, rusty-colored dog.

She climbed into the cab. It smelled of man, leather, cow dung, and smoke.

He nodded at her. Harry’s the name. Harry Phillips. Gee, you’re going to have to be careful with that skin of yours. A true English rose, aren’t you? He set the truck in motion with a noisy grinding of the gears.

Pleased to meet you, Harry. Caitlin was conscious that her face was probably flushed and sweaty. I’m Irish, from Dublin actually.

Harry might have been close to her age, but his skin was deeply tanned and laugh lines radiated from the corners of his hazel eyes. He wore khaki shorts and a sleeveless shirt that had seen better days, but his boots were polished until they gleamed like mirrors. He pushed his wide-brimmed hat back off his face with a callused finger and turned to look at her more than once as they sped along.

That’s a great head of red hair you have, Caitlin. Do you have the temper to go with it?

I’ve been accused of being fiery on occasion, she replied, anxious that he should watch the road.

I’ll have to stay on the right side of you then, he said with a laugh, turning again to peer out through the dusty windscreen at the unchanging landscape. What made you decide to come to the end of the earth to live?

She paused and chose to be evasive rather than tell a downright lie. Curiosity—I’ve read a lot about the Australian Outback and wanted to see it. How far to Tall Trees?

We’re already on it.

Did it start at that last gate?

Harry gave a hearty guffaw. Look to the horizon, east, west, north and south—all you can see is Tall Trees, and then some.

She peered through the window, struggling to grasp the sheer size of the landscape. She’d always felt at home in a crowd. Here, there was nothing but earth and sky for miles, and it made her feel a bit odd.

Not afraid exactly—she was familiar with that emotion. Small, insignificant.

Tall Trees seems an incongruous name to me, she said.

Do you mean it doesn’t fit?

Not many trees around here, tall or otherwise.

Wait till we get there. Can you see that hill in the distance?

She leaned forward, rubbing ineffectually at the dusty windscreen. That’s where we’re heading?

Yep.

Her mouth felt horribly dry. She’d had nothing to drink since a bottle of water bought at the last whistle-stop. Does it ever rain here?

In the rainy season. When it does, look out.

It floods? she said, with a strong note of disbelief in her voice.

Harry laughed. If the river breaks its banks, it does. You wait.

Caitlin wasn’t at all sure she wanted to.

Harry noted her expression. The house is okay, it’s on top of a hill, he said, taking pity on her. But they do get cut off sometimes.

You can get mobile coverage though?

He glanced at her. It takes a while to get used to the isolation here.

I didn’t mean—I need to keep in contact with someone back in Ireland.

If you go up to the highest ridge, and the gods are smiling.

Let’s hope so. The words came out in an anxious strangled hiss.

We have a satellite phone. Don’t worry.

It relieved her somewhat although she couldn’t keep ringing Ireland from her boss’s phone.

So, you’re here to look after Jake Monterey’s kids.

That’s right.

He grimaced. Best of Irish luck to you.

Her heart sank. They’re difficult?

The boy’s okay, but the girl… He shook his head. She’s more willful than bad. Monterey’s let ’em run wild since his wife died.

How long is it since she passed away?

Close on two years. He goes off a lot these days—flies to Darwin on business. He has a girlfriend there.

He grabbed a crumpled pack from the door’s side pocket. Cigarette?

I don’t smoke thanks.

Caitlin held her breath as Harry took his hands off the wheel and, steering with his knees, lit a cigarette. Away now actually, he went on. Maybe he plans to marry her and bring her back here. That would be a real good idea. The kids need a mother.

Rattled that her job might collapse before she even started, she said, Wouldn’t he tell you of his plans?

He laughed and shook his head. Nope, Jake’s a bit of a closed shop.

What is it that you do, Harry?

Harry pushed back his hat and scratched his head. Muster the cattle. We send ’em off to one of the bigger stations for shipping to Asia and the Middle East. We also breed quarter horses. I’m a mechanic by trade. I maintain the machinery—keep it all in good working order. Jack of all trades, master of none, he said cheerfully.

That’s quite an impressive list of accomplishments, she said. You must be kept busy.

Oh, I get time off. He glanced at her. Saturday nights are always free. I’ll take you to the town dance, if you like.

She smiled and turned to gaze out of the window. "Just how big is Tall Trees?"

Tall Trees employs about thirty-five regulars and a fair number of itinerant workers come and go. We all manage to work as a team under Jake. He’s the station manager as well as the owner.

They arrived at the base of the cliff, glowing brilliant orange in the sun, and began to climb. Caitlin was amazed as the rocks and shrubs gave way to forest. What sort of trees are these?

Bloodwood, ghost gums, turpentine.

It appeared a little cooler here, but that might be wishful thinking. It wasn’t long before they were traveling through dense bush land and she heard her first kookaburra laugh. Then, a small, furry gray animal bounced across the track.

The truck swerved.

Effin wallabies, Harry cursed.

Where’s the nearest town? she asked, when he’d straightened up again. She was beginning to relax. He appeared to handle the difficult conditions with practiced ease.

Burrawong—not far, twenty kilometers or so down the other side of the hill.

She wouldn’t be walking into town then. The revelation brought a wave of inexplicable claustrophobia washing over her.

Do you ride? he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

No. I’m a bit scared of horses.

You’ll have to learn, he said. Can’t survive here, out of the saddle. Tell you what, he turned to her again, carelessly disregarding the slippery bush track the truck was negotiating. "I’ll teach