Sixteen
Spread out over the boardroom table was Ryder’s copy of the murder file. He’d re-read each interview, each witness statement, and the officer’s investigation reports while making his own notes. But what held his attention the most were the various images of the actual murder scene itself. Together, it just didn’t add up.
Through the open windows, Ryder heard loud rock music as if it were coming from the clouds.
‘Do you hear that?’ Ryder called out to Dex, who was working on the harvester inside the mechanical workshop.
‘Yeah.’ Using a rag, Dex wiped the grease from his hands as he walked out to meet the sun. ‘You won’t believe who it is, brother.’ Dex pointed to the air, his cheesy grin growing, as a red plane skimmed above the shed’s roof with a straw broom painted on its undercarriage. ‘It’s the Wicked Witch of the Westerly Winds .’
It was their cousin, Monet.
‘Where’s she going to land?’ Dex asked, as rock music bellowed out of the plane as it circled wide over the homestead.
‘On our driveway.’
‘Since when is our driveway an airstrip?’
‘Since you graded it. Apparently, our driveway doubles up as an airstrip when Leviathan Creek floods in the wet season.’ Ryder couldn’t imagine the dust bowl turning green and the dry Leviathan Creek flooding. But he was looking forward to it.
‘Who told you that?’ Dex asked.
‘Monet did, when she flew in our parents, while you were having that brief vacation in the hospital. Our cousin has the wet season contract to make mail deliveries to remote cattle stations and said we’re on the list.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Both Charlie and Monet have warned me that Leviathan Creek gets big and it’s notorious for flash flooding. You remember Leviathan? It’s where I picked up your car where you got that lift into town with Bree, in the Kombi van you said you’d never get into.’ Ryder grinned at Dex, who scowled.
‘The monstrosity that Bree had lacquered into my wall.’
Ryder chuckled. Only Bree would take a photo of the one and only vehicle his rev-head brother hated and use it as wallpaper to cover an entire wall in Dex’s house. That woman knew exactly what she was doing, always stirring up his brother in their game.
‘I’ve told Sophie to cover that picture of the Kombi with something else. Wish I hadn’t. Every night there’s over a hundred photos she wants me to look at.’
‘How long do you think it’ll be before Sophie stops playing paparazzi?’ It was irritating.
‘Listen, brother.’ Dex stopped and faced Ryder. ‘Sophie is just so excited over everything, and I don’t want her to stop doing what she loves. In such a short time, I’ve seen how much she’s improved. But Sophie is also sorry for what she did on the muster, and for getting into everyone’s face with her camera. I know Harper and Mia told Sophie, on their ride back to the homestead yesterday. And well, Bree threatened to punch her out, just like you threatened to destroy her camera. Do you hate Sophie?’
Ryder shrugged. ‘No, she’s just annoying.’
‘Bree said the same thing.’
Which would have to be one of the rare times Bree and Ryder agreed on anything.
‘Bree reckons the only thing she has in common with Sophie is me.’
‘That’s true.’ Ryder patted his brother’s shoulder and held it for a moment. ‘I only want to see you happy.’
‘Sophie makes me happy.’
‘I know that.’ It’s why he put up with the blonde and her camera.
‘Enough about my love life, how’s yours going?’
‘Hmph.’ Ryder frowned as they continued walking across the homestead, as the buzz of the red plane grew closer with Monet preparing to land.
‘What’s going on between you and Bree?’
‘Nothing.’
Dex tilted his head at Ryder. ‘You sure?’
Ryder said nothing, as per usual.
‘I know you like her.’
As if he’d share how deeply he cared for Bree with Dex.
‘Brother, I should warn you, Bree doesn’t like anyone.’
‘Yes, she does. Bree loves Charlie. She’s nice to Harper and Mia, even Cap and his dogs. She spoils Mason, and you are like a brother to her. As for me…’ He sighed, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans as they stood on the side of the track to watch the plane make its descent. ‘All we do is argue.’
‘It’s almost the same as how you used to argue with me until we made our peace.’ This time it was Dex’s turn to pat his shoulder.
But Ryder didn’t think Bree would accept the type of peace he was willing to offer her.
Last night had been his first time sharing dinner with Bree and Charlie. The only other time they were seated at the same table was when her ex-husband Finn and Marcus, the local police sergeant, sat between them as they worked out a way to catch the cattle rustlers. She’d never fully forgiven him for accusing her of being a cattle thief. He couldn’t really blame her for that.
The red plane dangled as if by a piece of invisible string getting lower and lower, to then softly land on the red soil. The propellers created a dust storm that brushed against their skin like sandpaper. As the little red plane whizzed past, its wingspan took up the full width of the driveway, then raced down the length of the driveway, before it slowed down enough to turn and taxi towards them.
The engine silenced, and the twin propellers became still. The plane’s door opened and out jumped Monet in her workboots, denim shorts and white workman’s singlet. Her blonde pixie haircut ruffled in the wind, wearing her aviator shades that made her look effortlessly cool. ‘You won’t believe what your mongrel neighbour just did.’
‘Hello to you too, Monet.’ Dex gave her a hug. ‘Jeez, I remember when you were this—Nah, you never did grow, eh?’
‘Leave off.’ She playfully shoved Dex aside and nodded at Ryder. ‘Hey, Ryder. How come you never age?’
‘Monet.’ He gave his little cousin a brotherly peck on her cheek. ‘What did you say about the neighbours?’
‘The prick shot at me. I’m taking Leo and his station off my Christmas mail run this year.’
‘ What the flip! ’ Dex scowled with open anger.
While Ryder’s well-trained defence mechanism kicked in, protecting him from feeling the fear and concern that he didn’t allow himself to show easily. It’s what earned him the title of having ice in his veins. ‘Are you sure it was Leo who shot at you?’ Leo wouldn’t be stupid enough to take pot shots like that, would he? It was so unlike Leo to do this.‘You actually saw Leo raise a weapon?’
‘I know Leo Travers. He’s the sweet-talking, Armani suit–wearing, black-hatted mongrel who shot at my plane.’ Monet tenderly patted the body of the red plane as if walking around a horse. ‘I was cutting through on my way back home after doing mail deliveries—’
‘And you thought you’d check out the neighbour’s yard?’ Dex cocked an eyebrow at their cheeky cousin.
Monet ripped off her glasses. ‘I knew it.’ She pointed to the edge of the wing, where the shattered carbon-poly fibres splintered like timber. ‘That prick shot me.’
‘You could have been killed! ’ Dex’s voice echoed around the plane.
It was enough for the blood to pump a little harder inside Ryder’s chest, even while outwardly he remained tightly controlled. Yet his body became tense, with his jaw clenched, to avoid a rare explosion of emotion.
‘I’m okay. Don’t sweat it guys. I’m just looking for a quick patch up and a cup of tea?’ Monet seemed completely unbothered by it all.
It was enough to simmer the edge off Ryder’s temper. But it didn’t stop his mind from channelling that unwanted emotion into formulating a plan, by leaning into his military training—that was calculated, efficient, and protective. It made it easier to keep his emotions at bay, by focusing on a strategy to defend or attack.
‘I’ve got some epoxy in the shed to fix that,’ said Dex, looking at the damage.
‘No. It’s not a car, it’s a plane. Grab the foam gap filler, duct tape, a couple of clamps, sandpaper and that bathroom sealant we used for your place,’ ordered Ryder, inspecting the wing. ‘We’ll patch it up enough to get you home.’
‘I’ll be right back.’ Dex ran back to the shed with the same easy gait. Even though he’d retired from professional street fighting, Dex still trained in the mornings, keeping in fighting shape.
‘I’d better ring Tim and tell him I’m going to be home late.’ Monet dragged out her mobile phone.
Ryder leaned in closer to check the plane’s underbelly. The wing might not have much damage, but they could’ve hit the fuel tank, or damaged one of the propellers, making her lose control.
On the landing gear, he pulled out a thick bunch of leafy twigs.
‘How low were you flying, Monet?’ Fully aware of her daredevil antics in the sky.
‘Um, you know…’ She shrugged. ‘And before you ask, I didn’t see anything. I heard the shots and got out of there quick.’
‘How many shots were fired.’
‘Two.’
‘A warning shot and then this.’ He tapped on the wing. Again, rage bubbled inside, urging him to confront Leo.
But Ryder never allowed his temper to take control. The only time he’d ever reacted with heat that he could barely contain, was when he’d learned Bree had been attacked by a crocodile. In that instance, he was ready to load up his assault rifles and go hunting with a grenade launcher. Even though his brother Dex had assured him Bree was fine, it was then Ryder had realised how deeply he cared for Bree.
Oh, and then there was the time he’d accused Bree of stealing their cattle. He deserved that slap that had stung for hours. At the time, he’d been so furious about losing his stock, overwhelmed by helplessness, and Bree, who’d been out all night, and not knowing where she was, the worry hit him harder than expected, forcing him to realise just how deeply he did care for her. Accusing her of stealing their cattle had been a dumb move. Not telling her sooner how much she meant to him—even dumber. But what really stung was how long it had taken him to figure it out.
‘Don’t stress, cousin, I’m good. I swear it.’ Pushing her sunglasses higher through her short blonde hair, Monet gave him a cheeky smile, raising her phone in the air. ‘No bars… Your intranet isn’t set up yet?’
‘Soon. It’ll be fully functioning before the wet season—we’re just waiting on the steel to build the towers. Then we’ll have internet through the system, but mobile reception is still a no-go out here.’ Ryder continued to inspect the red plane’s outer shell to ensure there was no other damage. ‘Harper has a landline in the house you can use to call Tim. And you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner? Or overnight?’
‘Is Charlie and Bree home? Charlie makes the best cuppa and Bree’s always good for a chinwag and some cake.’
‘It might be best to leave them be for a bit.’ Ryder peered back to the silent cottage. No smoke filtered from the blacksmith’s forge.
‘Why? What’s going on? Are they okay?’
He slid his hand into the pockets of his jeans, and sighed, successfully putting a lid on his temper. ‘We found Charlie’s brother yesterday.’
‘Is that the one who murdered this station’s head stockman over sixty years ago?’
‘You obviously know the story.’ It didn’t surprise him, because Monet knew all the gossip in this region. ‘We found his remains out near Rijidij Dugout.’
‘Oh, man, that’s rough. How is Charlie taking it?’
‘He’s pretty upset.’
Monet sighed. ‘Well, according to Mickey, the master of all things mechanical, his number one hobby is listening in on the airwaves at the town’s airstrip, and he told me he’d heard the cops had been called out to Elsie Creek Station.’
‘Which is why you’re here to find out what’s going on.’
‘No.’ But her cheesy grin said yes . ‘Your mother said for me to keep an eye on you guys.’
‘Monet, I’m pretty sure we’re big enough and ugly enough to look after ourselves.’ He messed up her hair like the little girl he remembered.
‘Hey, I’m not six, you know.’ She straightened up her hair. ‘I honestly was on my way back from making deliveries, and ever since Jonathan told me how your neighbour was after your water, I make a point of doing a fly-by whenever I can. I guess this time I got a bit too close, eh?’
‘If I were you, I’d take photos of the damage before Dex repairs it.’
‘It’s just a scratch.’
He frowned at his petite cousin. ‘Monet, the prick shot at your plane . If you don’t make a report, I will.’ She was family.
‘Okay, okay. I usually only take photos of my plane for my social media accounts, not this. But hey, I’m sure this will generate some public interest, right? Not every day I get shot at.’ With camera in hand, she took selfies of her and her plane. Nothing like crime scene shots at all.
After scouring the police murder file all morning, he was learning fast how they liked to keep it all neatly compiled, so he took out his own phone, to take detailed photos that included the date and time for evidence. ‘Please tell Tim about the plane being shot at before you post those images to social media.’
‘Aw, yeah…’ Monet screwed up her button nose. ‘Tim got cranky at me last time. Hey, how did the muster go?’
‘How did you know about that?’ Nice change of subject, cousin.
‘I spotted Charlie in the pub with Bree the other day when they were getting supplies. Charlie was excited. I like how you take Charlie with you. You know he’s got the best stories.’
‘I’ve noticed. Bree and my brothers finished the muster yesterday.’ While Ryder spent the day with Charlie and the police. He’d felt bad for Charlie, who’d been quiet all day at the cave, watching the coming and goings of the police, while standing guard over his brother’s skeleton.
‘So, you’ll be doing the drafting next, huh?’
Ryder nodded. ‘Do you know of any kid who wants a job as a station hand. We need someone to help in the drafting yards. You know the usual jobs of cleaning troughs, fencing, and looking after the stockhorses.’
‘You should ask Bree. She’s always getting applications for station workers emailed to the official Elsie Creek Station email address.’
‘The what?’ It’s the first he’d heard about this.
‘It’s the one Bree uses to get included in my wet season mail runs when the front creek gets flooded. Don’t you talk to Bree?’
Not as much as he’d like to. ‘I talk to Charlie, or should I say Charlie’s always talking to me?’
‘You should talk to Bree.’
‘And how do I keep Bree still long enough for a conversation, that doesn’t involve gin? Where Bree then says she’s off the clock and won’t talk about work.’
‘Cupcakes. Everyone knows Bree likes her cupcakes.’
He hated that word!
Dex roared towards them on the quad bike with assorted tools sitting in the crate strapped to the back. ‘Ready to give this plane a bit of a tickle?’
‘I’m so sorry, Gertrude.’ Monet tenderly stroked the wing of her plane as if it were an injured animal.
‘Don’t worry, Monet, your plane is in good hands,’ said Ryder. ‘I’m going to call Harper.’
‘What for?’ Dex dragged out the orbital sander.
‘I want her to bring something back from town. Monet, I’ll also be calling the police and emailing them my photos of this incident.’
‘Say hi to Marcus for me and tell him not to stress.’ Monet was so casual about the shooting. She was more interested in assisting Dex patching up her plane.
‘Do you want to talk to the police?’
‘No. You can. Then you can tell me what they want me to do. If I need to make a statement, I’ll email them, or Marcus can meet me at the town’s airstrip later in the week.’
At the farmhouse’s front steps, the large shepherd eagerly greeted him. ‘G’day Sarge.’ Ryder patted the staunch soldier who often kept him company long after the others had gone to bed.
As he opened the front screen door, the pitter-patter of another ex-police dog greeted him. It was the beagle traipsing down the corridor. ‘Hey, Scout.’ He patted the friendly beagle.
Nearby, the fat cream labrador thumped her tail from her fancy dog bed. ‘Ruby, I see you’re off the clock.’
Scout and Ruby had become pampered house pets, with Harper giving them fancy-smelling shampoos, leads, and collars, probably as a reward for enjoying Harper’s regular gastronomical failures.
But not the shepherd. Sarge never came inside, dutifully manning his post on the front corner of the verandah. He wasn’t a pet. He was a soldier.
The screen door shut behind him, the childproof latch clamping down in place. The lounge room was free from the boxes that used to crowd this space, now held a lounge suite, a large mat, along with a set of dog beds, Dex’s old TV, and a big box full of toys for the toddler.
The kitchen had a dining table Bree had found for Harper. The old kitchen table, which they’d pinched from day one, still sat out the front of the house, even though they rarely used it now, preferring their new boardroom and bar space in the shed.
Unlike the caretaker’s cottage—where the walls were covered in various historical images, rodeo paraphernalia and branding irons—the farmhouse didn’t have a single painting or a picture hanging on the faded walls to show it housed a family. But they had a hallway lined with assorted wide-brimmed hats. All of them were Harper’s.
With the large kitchen on his left, the bedrooms ran along the right. At the end of the hall was Ryder’s room.
Inside, his large bed was made every day, a habit from the Army. A desk stood in the corner, but he rarely used it now that Bree had made him his office. He only came in here to sleep—if he slept—or to use the spare cordless phone. He didn’t know where the other handset was, and didn’t want to spend the next hour looking for the thing.
He dialled a number, as he uploaded his images of Monet’s plane.
‘Elsie Creek Police.’ The deep voice over the phone’s speaker was stern, as if prepared for bad news.
‘G’day, Marcus.’
‘Hey, Ryder, thanks for emailing me that letter last night. We found the paperwork inside the suitcase’s lining, just like it said.’
‘How is the investigation going?’
‘I pulled Porter off road duties to work on the case full-time. He’s got a lot of evidence to crawl through.’
‘Why? It’s not an urgent matter.’ It was a sixty-year-old cold case in some ways. And the only reason Porter had reopened the file in the first place was to gain experience for his detective’s qualifications.
‘I’m doing it for Charlie and Bree. They’re good people, who’ve helped me and my family plenty of times over the years. Porter is a family friend of theirs, and I know he’s keen to give Charlie some answers.’
‘I’m calling on another matter…’ And he explained to Marcus about Leo shooting at Monet’s plane. ‘Monet isn’t upset about it, but that prick clipped her wing.’ Outwardly he may not show any emotion, inside it ticked him off big time. ‘I’m emailing you the photos I took of the damage. Monet has her own, that I think she’s going to post to social media.’
‘Monet would. She’s become an online influencer, and she never really takes things seriously.’
‘I know. Which is why I’m calling you myself.’ Ryder doubted Monet would take it any further, but her partner, Tim, wouldn’t hesitate to load up his guns once he heard about this and confront Leo—which is probably why Monet was playing down the incident.
‘You’re a pilot. Is that plane safe for Monet to fly?’ Marcus asked.
‘Dex is fixing the wing now. It’s mostly cosmetic damage. It won’t interfere with any of the plane’s capabilities to get her home. Otherwise, I’d ground her myself. But our little cousin is in good spirits, keen to get home.’
‘Well, I learned a long time ago that Monet plays by her own rules, but she always means well.’ Marcus exhaled heavily, and Ryder could picture the no-nonsense senior sergeant rubbing the back of his neck with concern. ‘So, I’m guessing you have a request over this plane shooting?’
‘I want Monet to file a complaint, but I’d like you to keep it off any official police action just for a bit.’ Ryder knew he’d get Monet to comply, but Marcus was another matter.
‘Why? You know I have a job to do, mate.’
‘I still haven’t worked out Leo’s endgame, but I know he’s up to something. He’s been trying to block us with his lawyers—’
‘But he’s taking pot shots at planes! ’
‘Bree does it here if Ash’s drone gets too close to her backyard.’
Marcus chuckled, defusing the heavy mood. ‘Bree would.’
‘And Leo could argue he was just protecting his property.’
‘Leo doesn’t own the airspace.’
‘Look, I found some leaf debris twisted around Monet’s landing gear, and how she pilots her plane—’
‘Pushing it to the limits, you mean.’
‘I’d say Monet flew that plane too low, and likely breached some Civil Aviation Safety Authority regulations. Leo could use that against her.’
‘Ah. Right. I see…’ Marcus paused. Something squeaked in the background, like he was rocking in his chair behind his desk.
Ryder inhaled before broaching his next sentence. ‘Have you spoken to Finn lately?’ Finn was involved with the Federal Stock Squad and had helped them catch the cattle rustlers and recover their stolen cattle.
‘No. Why?’
‘Finn mentioned he was going to do some digging about Leo. At the fights he mentioned that he knew who Leo was.’
‘I must have missed that conversation. Do you want me to reach out to Finn?’
‘If you could.’ Not that Ryder wanted to contact Bree’s ex-husband, but it’s all he had. ‘Finn told me that Leo works for some southern gang who smuggled drugs and other goods into the country through the docks.’
Whack! It had to be Marcus, sitting up in his chair. ‘I definitely missed that conversation. And you’re only telling me this now?’ In the background, Marcus shuffled paperwork across his desk, probably looking for Finn’s number or an email address. ‘What else did Finn say?’
‘That Leo had only gained the property from a debt that had to be paid. The thing is, Leo is cunning enough to trick a person into creating that debt in the first place. But Finn seemed to believe that Leo wasn’t here for the lithium mine.’
‘What do you think Leo is here for?’
‘Not sure. But we must be getting close if he’s shooting at planes. But it’s also not like Leo to be so clumsy like this, by drawing attention to himself. Leo is usually a lot more calculating than this.’ Ryder believed it.
‘Did Monet see anything?’
‘No.’
‘I know we didn’t see anything when Finn used the drone over the property.’
‘You guys were looking for cattle, and you used a heat-seeking drone.’ But he was going to get Ash to use his favourite toy to take another look.
‘Don’t do anything foolish, Ryder.’