Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Declan
Bella looked terrified, yet she was fighting like hell not to show it. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and take away whatever horror she was imagining.
“Hey.” I cupped her chin, tilting her face up so she couldn't look away. “Talk to me.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. For a long moment, she just stared at me, and I saw a war between desperation and fear raging behind those incredible blue eyes.
A single tear spilled over her lashes, and her expression shifted, as though she'd just made a decision that was going to ruin her.
She cleared her throat. “I came to Koolaroo Ranch to see your father.”
What the hell? I hadn't been expecting that. The words hit me like one of Kayden's gut punches. My thumb stilled against her chin, but I didn't let go or step back. “Keep talking.”
She took a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the wet fabric of her tattered dress. “A long time ago, my mother, Rebecca Hartley, worked here at Koolaroo Ranch. She did bookkeeping and admin work.”
My jaw tightened. Koolaroo Ranch had employed hundreds of workers over the decades. Jackaroos, ringers, ranch hands, and homestead staff like Bella. Most of them drifted through like tumbleweeds, stayed a season or two, then moved on to the next cattle station or the next adventure.
But the tremor in Bella's voice and the haunted look in her eyes told me her mother hadn't just moved on.
She'd run.
And I had a sick feeling she'd run because of something my fucking father had done.
Releasing her chin, I eased back slightly, giving her space to breathe but keeping my eyes locked on hers. I needed to see her face. Needed to know if she was telling me the truth or feeding me a story she'd rehearsed a hundred times before coming here.
“Mom was on her deathbed when she told me about her time here.” Bella's voice cracked, and her gaze dropped to her bandaged hands.
“She was heavily drugged with morphine, and God knows what else. Barely conscious.” She paused, her breath hitching.
“But the fear in her eyes when she said Frank Branson's name—”
She sucked in a shaky breath, and her throat worked as she fought her tears. “Her fear was so real, Declan. Like she was back there. Like just remembering it scared the hell out of her all over again.”
Dread pooled in my gut, spreading through my chest like ice water.
Bella swallowed hard, as though every damn word hurt. “She said Frank Branson wasn't a good man. That she'd seen things she shouldn't have. Things that made her run in the middle of the night without even collecting her last paycheck or saying goodbye to the friends she'd made.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides. Of course, Frank was the fucking reason. “What kinds of things?” My voice came out rough.
Bella twisted her bandaged hands in her lap. “She found things in the books that didn't add up. Money going missing. Figures inflated or just wrong.”
“That doesn't surprise me,” I said, my jaw tight. “I've been doing the accounting at Koolaroo for over ten years. There's plenty that doesn't add up. Frank's creative with record-keeping when it suits him.”
Bella shook her head like I was missing the point entirely. Her whole body tensed, and she swallowed so hard I heard it. “She, um...” Her voice faltered. “Oh God.”
“Bella.” I held my ground, resisting the urge to step closer again. “Just tell me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut like she couldn't bear to look at me while she said it. “Mom caught Frank having sex with a woman.”
The words hung between us like a grenade with the pin pulled.
When Bella forced her eyes open, her gaze fixed somewhere past my shoulder, like she couldn't bear to watch my reaction.
“The woman wasn't his wife.”
My stomach dropped.
I wanted to defend Dad and say he’d done a lot of messed-up things, but cheating hadn't been one of them. Despite all his faults, I'd always believed Dad had been faithful to Mom.
But the words died in my throat.
Was that why Mom left? Did she find out Dad was screwing around? Was that what finally broke her?
It would make sense. It would explain her sudden disappearance and explain why she'd just vanished one day without warning or saying goodbye to her own kids.
No. I shook my head. That made no bloody sense. Mom hadn't just left Dad—she’d abandoned us. Me, Mitch, Cassidy, and Kayden. Four kids who'd needed her. Kids she’d loved with her soul. You don't walk away from your children because your husband cheated. You take your kids with you.
Unless Frank had stopped her from leaving with us. Permanently.
The blood drained from my veins. Did Dad kill Mom?
The thought slammed into me like a freight train. Twenty years of believing she'd abandoned us. Twenty years of anger and grief and feeling like we weren't good enough to make her stay. What if none of it was true? What if she’d tried to take us from him?
Would Frank have made sure she never could?
A vise clamped around my chest, crushing the air from my lungs. I couldn't think. Couldn't process. My mind careened between rage, horror, and a grief so sharp it felt like it would split me open.
Christ! I needed to focus on facts. Not speculation.
I unclenched my jaw. “What year did your mother work here?”
Bella shook her head, still not meeting my eyes. “I don't know exactly, but it was before I was born, so... at least twenty-seven years ago.”
Relief blazed through me like wildfire.
Mom had vanished twenty years ago. So, if this affair had happened, it was years before that. So that couldn't have been the reason she’d left.
But my relief was as brittle as old bone.
If Bella's mom was right, Dad had still been a cheating bastard.
On top of that, since Dad had vanished, I'd found mountains of evidence that proved Frank Branson had been a damn good liar.
Doctored books with costs or income that didn't add up.
That hundred grand he'd borrowed from that slimy loan shark who made my skin crawl.
Payments to people or companies whose names meant nothing to me.
Frank was up to his eyeballs in shit he'd kept hidden from me, the son he'd forced to manage the books.
He's probably been lying his whole goddamn life.
And I'm the damn fool for believing any of it.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look at Bella. “So, what did your mother do when she caught Frank—” I couldn't say the words screwing another woman out loud.
“Mom stupidly threatened to tell his wife.” Bella's voice was flat, emotionless. “But Frank threatened to kill her if she uttered a word.”
My blood went cold. “To kill her? You're sure that's what she said?”
“That's what Mom told me. But...” Bella hesitated, biting her lip. “She was in pain and had a lot of drugs in her system.”
“So, what did your mom do?”
“Mom left Koolaroo in the middle of the night and hitched a ride with a supply truck heading to Brisbane.”
I nodded slowly, trying to piece it together. “But I still don't understand why you came here now. Why do you need to see Frank?”
Bella studied me for a long moment, her blue eyes searching my face like she was trying to calculate exactly how much damage her next words would do.
Too late for that. Frank had been screwing with my head for years. And apparently, he'd been screwing with a lot more than that.
She cleared her throat. “Did you know Frank grew tea trees?”
The question threw me. “What? No.”
“What about olive trees?”
“No. We’re a cattle ranch, so only—”
“He did, Declan. Tea trees first, decades ago. Then olive trees.”
“That can't be true, Bella.” I shook my head, frowning. “Dad always said Koolaroo was cattle country. Prime grazing land. It was his main argument against my reopening this mine.”
Stick to cattle, not fucking pipe dreams. Man, if I had a dollar for every time he’d said that.
“It's true.” Her tone was adamant. “When Mom worked for him, he grew tea trees for the oil.”
“Tea trees?” I stared at her. “Are you sure it was here? At Koolaroo?”
She nodded. “That's what Mom said.”
My shoulders softened slightly. I gentled my voice, trying not to sound like I was calling her a liar. “But your mom was heavily medicated, Bella. Maybe she was confused. Maybe she mixed up the places she worked at over the years.”
“No.” Bella's body went rigid, trembling with frustration. “Just listen to me, Declan.”
The edge in her voice matched the fire in her eyes.
“Okay.” I raised both hands in a peace gesture, backing off. “I'm listening. I'm sorry. Tell me.”
She grabbed a thick strand of her red hair, and as she twisted it over her shoulder, water dripped onto her chest and trickled down her cleavage. “When Mom worked for Frank, he grew tea trees for the oil. She said something about the Hendersons being involved, but I'm not sure who they are.”
I forced my gaze to her lips, rather than the glistening trail to her breasts. “The Hendersons are our neighbors, but there's bad blood between our families that goes back decades. Dad never told me why, but his hatred for them went damn deep.”
“Maybe it was because of those tea trees.”
“Maybe. Did the tea trees have anything to do with the books that didn't add up?” I asked, trying to connect the dots.
“I don't know.” She shook her head, frustrated. “Mom never got that specific. But that's not the important part.” She inhaled like she was summoning the courage to continue. “What matters is that years later, when I was about seven, Mom mentioned the tea tree farm at Koolaroo to my Uncle Paolo.”
I frowned, still not seeing where this was headed.
Her gaze slid to the side. “You remember how I told you my dad and Uncle Paolo were murdered?”
“Yes.” My chest tightened. “By Vincenzo.”
She released an agonized sound. “Yes. Well, Uncle Paolo was importing olive oil. Premium Australian olive oil, or so he thought.” Her hands twisted together. “The oil came from here. From this ranch.”
“What?” I stared at her. “That's impossible. I've never seen olive trees on Koolaroo.”
“Well, maybe the trees didn’t grow very well.” Bella's voice turned hard. “Because Frank made fake olive oil, and that's what he sold to Paolo. Passing it off as the real thing.”
My mind reeled. “Let me get this straight. He grew tea trees. Then, years later, he grew olive trees. Then he sold fake olive oil to your uncle?” None of that made sense.
“Yes. He cut real olive oil with cheaper oils. Vegetable oil, canola, whatever he could blend to make it look and taste like olive oil. Paolo was selling it as quality Australian olive oil and charging premium prices.” She swallowed hard. “Remember when I said the mafia needed to send a message?”
I nodded.
“Well, the mafia was doing the exact same thing—selling fake oil. They weren't happy that Paolo was cutting into their territory with a cheaper product.”
I drove my hands through my wet hair as I tried to process all the details.
“That's why Vincenzo was sent to kill Paolo.” Bella's voice broke. “To eliminate the competition.”
My jaw dropped. “They were murdered over fake olive oil?”
She nodded, and tears spilled over her lashes. “Oil that your father made. Mom had no idea that Paolo had even contacted Frank.” Bella's voice cracked. “She found out after they were murdered. The police investigation revealed the fake oil scheme.”
Jesus Christ. My stomach turned to ice.
“She said if she'd never said anything to Paolo about Koolaroo and the tea trees, my father would still be alive.”
“It wasn't your mom's fault.”
“She blamed herself for telling Paolo about Frank.
That's what ate her up, Declan. That guilt poisoned her … gave her stomach cancer. I overheard Vincenzo telling Rocco that Paolo and Dad claimed they knew nothing about the olive oil being fake until the night they were murdered.” A sob burst from her throat.
I closed the distance between us and crushed her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her shaking body. She collapsed into me, her sobs muffled against my shirt as her hands clutched at my back like I was the only thing keeping her upright.
As she fell apart in my arms, my mind raced, piecing together fragments about my asshole father that were finally starting to make horrifying sense.