I SWUNG AROUND. This guy had picked the wrong day to tick me off. ‘I don’t answer to threats.’ I took a step forward. ‘Or deal with liars.’

Finch now stood and his wife quickly stepped between us. The guy was volatile and she knew it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she interjected. ‘We’re not being truthful. I – we – can’t have children so we’re looking at a surrogate.’

Suddenly the couple’s questions made sense. I relaxed a little.

Finch’s bluster evaporated. ‘We didn’t know if you’d agree to help us if we told you the truth. We have to know if she’s likely to extort us for more money, and that we won’t be dragged into legal fights down the track.’

This was obviously difficult for them, but there was no point continuing the conversation. Commercial surrogacy was illegal in every Australian state. Carrying a baby out of kindness, known as altruistic surrogacy, was permitted but fraught with potential legal complications.

‘We didn’t mean to threaten you,’ she added. ‘It’s just that there are many of us in the same situation and we could bring you a lot of business. Most of us would pay whatever it took to have our own children.’

‘We work closely with law enforcement,’ I explained, ‘and what you’re proposing is illegal. You’re obviously planning on paying for this baby. I’m sorry.’

‘Mr Gisto.’ The woman touched my arm. ‘Do you have children?’

The question stopped me cold.

‘I’ve had eight miscarriages and we had a daughter, Caroline …’

‘Stillborn,’ the husband almost whispered.

She held my gaze. ‘We’ve tried everything natural, multiple rounds of IVF. And now my husband’s too old at forty-eight to adopt. This isn’t a whim. We can give a child a wonderful life.’

It was impossible not to feel for what they had been through, but I was responsible for this business. I certainly couldn’t let emotion sway my decision.

She paused. ‘Doctors have told us it isn’t possible, so we are turning to a surrogate who says she just wants medical costs covered. That’s all.’

A stranger becoming pregnant and not wanting anything in return sounded risky.

‘We could have gone to somewhere like India or Thailand, but that doesn’t seem right.’

Not to mention the practice was outlawed there now too, I thought. We moved back inside the office. ‘How did you hear about this woman?’

‘Her name’s Louise Simpson. She advertised on a surrogacy website. We just want to know if she’s genuine.’

A background check could only give her credit rating and criminal history. She would have to approve of them accessing her medical information, and I told them that.

‘We understand. But this is our last chance,’ Mrs Finch pleaded.

Despite reservations, I agreed to help.

Chapter 6

HE WAS WOKEN by burning in his wrist and forearm, and a deeper, bone-like pain in his right shoulder. He took a gasp and inhaled smoke, as sun peeked through the canopy directly above.

Disorientated, he struggled to sit up. Sweat dripped off him. He cradled his right arm, which provided some relief. The shoulder was out of its socket, down and forward. Then he remembered something had brushed him when he’d reached for the sensor device.

Peeling off the right glove, he saw the curled-up body of a spider. A centimetre long, black with a red patch on its back. A red-back.

The welt on his wrist was unlike anything he’d experienced before. Hospitals had antivenom, but it had to be administered quickly to be effective. That wasn’t an option given the nearest hospital was two hours by road. He moved his other limbs and ankles. The shoulder had taken the brunt of the fall. It had to be put back in place. Then he could at least get to safety and take his chances with the bite.

The sound of a distant siren echoed in the valley. The cabin had gone up in flames and the flames must have spread to surrounding bush. The ‘cleaners’ should be long gone, but the area would be swarming with locals and emergency services volunteers, and the police.

He pulled himself to his feet and took some breaths. It was now or never. With all the strength he could muster, he ran and slammed his shoulder into a tree. Pain exploded through his shoulder and arm as he suppressed a scream. A few seconds later, it eased. The shoulder was in place but he could feel the lymph nodes under the arm were swollen and tender. The poison was spreading.

Using a spare shirt as a sling, he struggled to recall everything he’d ever learnt about red-back spiders. No one had died from their bite in years. But if the toxin didn’t kill, it could debilitate and affect nerves for up to a week.

Tags: James Patterson Private Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net