Miranda Jones, Book 5. Vanquished

By B C Austen

The only sound in the room is the steady beat of the life support machine that was keeping Miranda alive. Joel blames himself for her dire situation. Peter, his rival, had saved her life while he’d been away on an undercover mission that had proved to be pointless. Given a leave pass he was furious at finding Peter at the house and flew into a rage. But his rival has worse things planned for him. Joel needs to step up his game in order to overcome the drama that's in store for him, because Peter is going to take away everything that Joel holds dear. He stands to lose his wife and his freedom. He receives unexpected news from the doctor, but this is quickly expunged when he gets arrested and finds himself in a race against time to prove his innocence. Follow the twists and turns as Joel attempts to sort out the minefield that Peter has created for him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B C Austen
• Release date: Jul 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370966516

B C Austen

Barbara is a retired medical receptionist and a learner blogger. She is a native of Western Australian country towns, but has now joined the city rat race. Among her hobbies she has a small but fascinating collection of weird and wonderful teapots.She has been learning creative writing for a few years now and her first novel has just hit the ebook market.Her family is her life, but movies and coffee with friends are all important.

Book preview

Miranda Jones

Book 5

Vanquished

B C Austen

Miranda Jones

Book 5

Vanquished

by B C Austen

Copyright 2017 B C Austen

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover - Vector image attributed to artist

Teni/Shutterstock.com

Cover designed by the author.

I would love to hear your thoughts on the book, good or not so good.

I would be most appreciative if you could provide a review.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

About the Author

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Writing the Miranda Jones books has taken me on an interesting odyssey. I’ve learned to believe in myself and that you are never too old to learn. I set myself a challenge to publish a book after taking some writing classes and then one book became five.

It wouldn’t have been possible without all the following wonderful people at my side.

My beta readers have been invaluable. A personal thanks to Val, Laurel, Jo, and Pam, for providing new eyes to the manuscript and adding your queries, suggestions and advice, too numerous to mention. You have been a constant source of strength.

A special thanks to my many family members for their contributions. I would not have been able to get this far without your continued love and support. I encountered many trials along the way and at times they felt like enormous mountains, but were all nullified thanks to just being able to talk to someone. You all made it possible, in your own unobtrusive ways, to getting the books published.

Prologue

Miranda’s world had come crashing down hard. The events of that night had been devastating and there was no telling how it would end.

It had been a busy six weeks since Joel had gone on his secret mission and she hadn’t heard from him since he’d walked out that early Sunday morning. The emptiness that followed was hard to bear and she turned to Clover, her beloved neighbour, for company. She became her rock through it all, but she was no replacement for Joel. She missed him, but she didn’t have time to wallow in self pity.

In his absence she was going to run the hair salon for him, negotiate the sale of the nightclub and go on a daunting trip to Western Australia to meet Joel’s sister, Cathy, and attempt to re-connect with his daughter, Simone.

At her first encounter with Simone there was no love lost between the two. Their hostility towards each other was palpable. Miranda could only hope she’d outgrown it and that they could work together. She’d been alienated from her father for some time and Miranda thought she had a nerve asking him to buy her a hair salon. Cathy on the other hand was someone Miranda knew she would bond with.

But meeting up with Simone was the easy part. The sale of the Warthog to Peter became much more complex when it became obvious that Peter wanted more than the Warthog. He wanted Miranda and with Joel away he was determined to take advantage of the opportunity and declare his attraction to her. Peter was Miranda’s first love and she still had long buried fantasies of him. They quickly came to the surface when he kissed her and she felt a fire re-ignite deep within. She felt herself succumbing and she wanted more.

Clover’s house became a portal for an uninvited paranormal guest, who terrified her. It wreaked havoc and Miranda and Clover attempted to perform an exorcism. They followed the instructions from Clover’s grimoire but struck trouble at the first hurdle, causing Clover to fall victim. At Miranda’s second attempt to expel the demon an unexpected visitor intervened and not only was she fighting the hideous apparition, but also the new enemy.

Peter wanted Devon gone from the Warthog, but Miranda had more to say about that. He relented when she refused to sell to him unless he was kept on in his capacity as manager.

Now as the new owner of the Warthog, Peter started off with a grand opening, inviting all his up-market friends and associates from the legal profession. It was to start a new era for the nightclub and with his business acumen it was bound to succeed. Peter had invited Miranda to attend, but she was reluctant to go. At the last minute she relented as it was an opportunity to thank her workers and chat with the regulars. She took Clover with her for moral support.

Lurking underneath was the confusing, yet exciting, passionate embrace she’d had with Peter. One small ounce of encouragement from her would have started an affair. She was shocked that she had welcomed his touch, but on this night she had to play her cards carefully and let him know that she wasn’t available to him. But the night took on a different tack when Miranda became troubled with severe internal pain and unwittingly she was headed for a life changing experience. The ambulance was called, but her survival was not guaranteed.

Chapter One

Clover stood at her front gate looking in the direction of Miranda’s house.

The street was quiet again after the ambulance had left. The stark picture of seeing Miranda lying in a pool of blood was still vivid and raw in her head. The sticky mess told its own story of how frightened she must have been, not knowing why it had happened.

In her pocket she had her hand around a pack of tarot cards and to herself she repeated her favourite mantra, hoping it would help her concentrate.

‘Omm, shanti, shanti, shanti.’

She closed her eyes and let the weak sun warm her face.

The early morning was fresh and the weeds growing amid the cracks in the pathway were still covered in morning dew, accentuating the tiny hairs on their stems. Clover felt one underfoot, and when an unexpected, sharp pain, was felt in her instep she realised they were prickly. She raised her foot to brush the thorn off and cursed that she wasn’t wearing shoes. A fleeting thought ran through her head trying to remember where she had left them.

Miranda’s house was closed up and Clover wondered if she had been stabilised at the hospital. The blinds were down, the garage doors were closed. It gave off an air of mystery. Was Joel still at the hospital?

She tried not to dwell too much on whether Miranda was ok because she had no control over that. Her intuition gave her nothing, so she had to conclude that there was no change and that she was still in the coma. The deathly pallor of her face contrasted so starkly with the blood soaked nightie. Clover could almost count all the freckles across her cheeks as she lay on the gurney. She hoped that she’d manage to convey to Miranda that she was going to be ok.

Clover went back inside. She sat at the kitchen table and took the tarot cards out of her pocket. The clock above the stove showed it was ten minutes before eight.

She shuffled the pack and spread them out on the table. She closed her eyes and kept her hand on them, while continuing the chant. The inspirational wisdom she was hoping for was not forthcoming, but perhaps it was still too soon.

She gazed at a picture of her mother hanging on the wall and decided not to wait. What was the point. Confident that the cards would speak, she laid out a single tarot card, face down. She closed her eyes and held her breath, then gingerly turned it over. It was the Hanged Man. What did that mean? It was too ambiguous, and yes, it was too soon. Not to be put off, Clover let her mind go blank, focusing on the sky, the wispy clouds floating by. When she opened her eyes, she knew what it was telling her.

The Hanged Man signified it would likely be best if Miranda accepted what is. Everything is suspended. To live in the moment and not become a martyr. Could she do that? Clover didn’t know. Perhaps a new card tomorrow might make the message clearer.

~ # # # ~

Earlier that morning Peter had stormed out of Miranda’s house. Joel had taken him by surprise and left him at a disadvantage after they’d clashed. He was in shock after realising Joel wasn’t who he thought he was. Masquerading as a hairdresser gave him the persona of a mundane individual, but to learn he was an undercover policeman threw Peter completely. He thought himself as being reasonably fit, but he was no match for Joel. He was bulkier than the last time Peter had seen him and the fact he’d been deceived made him angrier still. He kicked one of the small plants out of the ground as he walked towards his car. He checked his pockets for his car keys.

He was in no mood to go home after the altercation but he needed a shower. His clothes and his hands smelled bloody. He looked back at the house before he unlocked his car and sat himself behind the wheel for a few minutes. The strange car parked in front of the garage distracted him. He got out again, wanting to look at it more closely. Seeing the keys in the ignition, he laughed and hurried back to his own car. His anger at Joel increased as he drove.

‘Bloody fool. This is the last time I’ll do anything for him. He can suffer the consequences of his idiotic leave of absence, or whatever he said it was.

‘I was the one who saved her life and I deserve some credit for that,’ thought Peter. ‘I almost had my hands on the prize and I don’t intend to stay out of the picture now. I’ll have to play a different hand though. See how he likes it after abusing me for trying to help.’

He drove straight to the Warthog, fuming all the way. There was a shower there that he could use and he had a spare set of clothing in his office. After showering he was surprised to find that Sergei was there.

‘What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve been here all night?’ asked Peter. He checked his watch at the same time. It was close to six o’clock.

‘I’ve just come in to do another check that everything is ok. I need to do a report before I forget what took place.’

‘Report about what? Those two fights that happened outside?’

‘Yes. One of them turned really ugly and you never know if the police will get involved. I like to keep on top of these things.’

Despite the early morning, Peter opened a beer and went into his office to drink it while Sergei went about his security duties. He checked his watch again and saw that the cleaning company he’d hired were due in an hour. He didn’t want to be there when they came.

The grand opening the previous night had been a gratifying success. His first venture into the nightclub scene had gone off well. It was tiring, but the satisfaction of entertaining people and seeing them spend their money was a boost to his ego.

He relived the night from the time Miranda had arrived.

He’d noticed that she was struggling with pain and at times appeared hunched over. It concerned him, but after the previous incident at his home when he’d let his feelings be known, she’d made it clear she didn’t want him near her. He felt it best to watch from afar without openly stalking her.

Due to a disturbance outside Sergei had asked him to come and provide assistance if it was needed, but it was all under control by the time he got there. When he came back inside he realised Miranda was nowhere to be seen. He went out to the carpark, hoping to find her there, but there was no sign of her. If it wasn’t his opening night he would have driven to her place and made sure she was ok. He wondered what would have happened had he done that.

He let his mind run away with a scenario that brought a smile to his face. Would she have invited him in? And what if he had been invited in, surely he would have stayed the night. His pleasant thoughts came to an abrupt halt knowing that Joel would have discovered them.

Armed with the knowledge that Joel was a highly trained police officer with a gun, Peter was certain that he’d have drawn it and fired. How could he not on finding a man with his wife in his own house. Wouldn’t he shoot first and ask questions later? He was thankful it never happened. It wasn’t the right time for them. Perhaps it was just as well the night played out as it had.

Peter realised he had some leverage by knowing about Joel’s undercover job and toyed with some thoughts on using it to his advantage, but common sense prevailed.

He found the beer wasn’t to his liking. It tasted too bitter and he poured it out. He took a bottle of water out of the fridge and opened it, taking a long drink.

He sorted through the takings and began to realise how successful the opening night had been. It helped him get over the emotions he’d felt after the altercation with Joel, although he still couldn’t get his concern for Miranda out of his head. He was powerless to help her now that Joel had returned, so he would have to take a back seat. It would be in his best interests to take some time out to plan his next move. This wasn’t something to leave to chance.

Once he’d completed all the balances Peter couldn’t help smiling. The profits were better than he’d expected. He left a note for Devon, congratulating him on a successful night.

Peter drove home not long after and by now was tired enough to crawl into bed and catch a bit of sleep. But expecting sleep to come easily was impossible. He kept seeing Miranda at the bottom of the stairs. If only he could wipe the whole thing away and make her better.

He found himself more in love with her than ever and he vowed to himself that he would do anything to win her away from Joel. He didn’t deserve her. There should be some kind of justice meted out to him for being such a selfish prick. Peter smirked as an idea came to him. He picked up the phone to call Sergei.

Chapter Two

Joel paced the quiet ward, his hand absentmindedly touching the end of Miranda’s bed as he passed it.

He felt he was in a vacuum with no escape. His adrenalin was sapping his energy and despite all his training in dealing with difficult situations, he had no idea how to control this. He could do nothing except wait till she came out of the coma and see what state she was in, mental or physical. Any future decisions would need to take into account her health and whatever repercussions came with it. He hoped there would be a future for them.

He concentrated on believing Miranda would recover, and how he was going to make it up to her afterwards. He needed to stop punishing himself for his fateful decision of the past few weeks as it was too exhausting. It wouldn’t help either of them.

He checked his watch. Nine o’clock. It seemed like a life time had passed since he’d been there, but it had only been a few hours. He had been due to have a meeting with the specialist in charge of Miranda’s recovery but that was an hour ago and he still hadn’t come. As far as Joel could tell there hadn’t been any improvement since she’d been brought in.

He tried to block out the continual sound of the rhythmic responses from the machines monitoring her and helping her breathe, but at the same time he found them reassuring. The blood bag hanging from the stand was all but empty. He desperately wanted to hear positive news and the waiting was driving him to distraction. He had to hope that a good report was forthcoming and that he might soon know some more.

The door opened abruptly and an orderly and two nurses entered the room.

‘Excuse us, Mr Pedrotti. Dr Randall-Booth has ordered some scans and more tests. We’re taking Miranda over to the radiology section.’

‘Ok,’ said Joel, his voice thick and toneless. ‘Does this mean he won’t be coming by to update me on her progress?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

Joel walked over to the window to get out of the way. He was so tired he tripped over the wheel of the bed table. He hobbled for a few steps and grabbed hold of the wall to steady himself. He gave a short groan as the pain went deep into his foot.

‘If the results are good we’re hoping to take her off these machines later today.’

A third nurse came into the room. ‘Mr Pedrotti. May I call you Joel?’

‘Sure, what is it?’ He looked towards the door, but struggled to focus his eyes. They were so tired and now his sore foot was sucking more energy from him.

‘Dr Randall-Booth has had another emergency, and has to cancel the meeting with you. He suggested you might prefer to go home and get some rest rather than wait. It’s going to be a long day, and your wife is unlikely to be aware that you are here. He’ll be in touch when he’s had time to check the scans and the new tests he’s ordered.’

‘No thanks. I’d prefer to wait here if you don’t mind.’

‘Joel, let me insist you take his advice. Miranda is stable, as you can see, and if you don’t get some rest you’ll be in no fit state to deal with anything the doctor has to tell you. Please, go and get a few hours sleep. Things’ll look different once you’ve rested. She’s going to be away for