Chapter 10
Ten
The next morning, Taryn paused outside the Batcave, her workbag over her shoulder, her coffee and breakfast in hand, as a familiar voice echoed from inside the large room.
Amara’s.
‘That’s good to hear, Constable. I appreciate the update,’ came an authoritative male voice over a speaker.
It was the kind of smooth voice designed to reassure a crowd, where every syllable was deliberate and polished to the point of feeling rehearsed.
Like someone used to giving speeches or press briefings, not orders.
Taryn’s spine stiffened. She knew that voice.
Commissioner Andrew Bannon.
‘I’d appreciate it if you could monitor the team, and Finn, for me,’ he said. ‘I trust you’ll raise anything if it looks off?’
‘But—’
‘Any concerns, you come straight to me, Constable. Don’t wait. Understood?’
‘Yes, Commissioner.’
The video call ended with a faint beep.
Taryn waited a beat, then pushed the door open like she hadn’t overheard them.
Amara, rising from her desk with her trusty tablet in hand, stiffened.
‘Morning.’ Taryn offered a polite smile. ‘Would it be okay to use this big table instead of the interrogation room? The Batcave feels more appropriate today. Less hostile.’
Amara gave a half-smile. ‘Romy will appreciate that.’
Taryn began setting up the table, and casually dropped, ‘Commissioner Bannon rarely calls constables directly. Especially not during an active audit. That’s… unusual.’
Amara squeezed her tablet tighter. ‘I—he…’ She cleared her throat. ‘The Commissioner just wanted an update.’
‘Then he should ask the superior officer directly,’ Taryn said, keeping her tone light. ‘They’re the ones paid to carry the responsibility.’
Amara chewed on her bottom lip, clearly caught in the middle of something. ‘I agree. But…’ She shrugged, full of unease. ‘The Commissioner asked me, like it was a direct order.’
Taryn saw it then—the tightrope of blurred lines that poor Amara was walking. Still new to the job, torn between the chain of command, and her loyalty to the man who’d built this squad from nothing.
Thanks to her parents, Taryn was well-schooled about ranks, especially the power and danger of command. A Federal Commissioner had no business placing that kind of weight on the constable’s shoulders.
‘You should let Finn know. He is your OIC. With a team this small, the chain of command matters—especially during an audit.’ She waved her hand over the piles of files she’d been trudging her way through.
Amara pressed her lips tight. Then finally, quietly, she said, ‘I will.’
‘You’re not in trouble, Amara. I’m only saying this as a friendly warning, female officer to female officer. When someone that high up goes around your OIC to pressure you for information… it’s not just bending the rules—it’s putting you in the firing line.’
Amara’s frown flickered, full of uncertainty.
‘My mother’s in the military. And she always says the higher the rank, the heavier the consequences if things go sideways—especially when the chain of command isn’t followed…
Guess who takes the hit when something leaks or paperwork doesn’t line up?
Not the Commissioner. The constable who answered a call she shouldn’t have. ’
Amara swallowed hard.
‘I don’t mean to harp on about protocols, when I know you see me as the bad guy.
I get it.’ But Taryn was hoping Amara understood the gravity of the situation and the potential risks.
‘But I believe in protocols because they were created to protect you. All of you, from being manipulated.’ And the Commissioner knew better.
Enough said, Taryn gave the young officer a soft smile, then went over her notes for this morning’s interview.
Yet, Amara lingered by the door. ‘Porter mentioned he spoke with you yesterday… Something about glitter cannons and cocktails?’
Taryn grinned. ‘Tanisha was telling us how she’s making glitter cannons to surprise her friend Felix for their next cocktail party, but her cats keep setting them off. And how Stone did that one time... She’s a force of nature that woman is.’
Amara smiled at that. ‘It took me weeks to figure out whether Tanisha was joking or testing me. Turns out it was both. And Stone, well…’
Taryn gave a knowing smirk. She’d witnessed Stone teasing Amara like an annoying big brother.
But underneath the cheek and charm was some healthy respect, too.
It was just that Stone’s way of showing it was loud.
‘One day, you’re gonna stop curtsying and actually bite back with the boys, Amara.
I just hope I’m around to bring the popcorn.
’ And she’d be cheering for the Tiny Titan from the sidelines too.
Taryn had grown up around lots of men like that—the uniforms, the banter, and the hierarchy. Luckily, her mum had taught her how to hold her ground with a smile and a spine. The constable was still learning, but she’d get there.
Amara glanced toward the doorway, then back again. ‘How are you going at the pub?’
Taryn shrugged. ‘The staff seem like nice people.’
‘They really are. The chef used to have Michelin stars in his restaurant in Europe, and you can taste it in his meals. But don’t order breakfast or talk to him before midday. He’s a real grouch…’
‘Duly noted. Any other tips?’
‘Samantha is a lot more switched on than any of us realise, but she won’t interfere. Billy’s great for gossip and as a chaperone should you ever want to sit at the front bar. And Mean-Rene, she’s a mother of four boys, who’s really a sweetheart under all that black leather and ink.’
‘Four boys?’
‘I know, right?’ Amara playfully rolled her eyes, the grin friendlier now. ‘Did they tease you about poking the possums in the roof for the night-time ambience?’
Taryn laughed as she nodded. ‘Did you stay there, too?
‘A lot longer that I should have. Living out of a suitcase, assuming that this was all temporary.’ Amara glanced around the office.
‘Eventually, it wears you down. This place… it doesn’t open up easily to strangers.
The locals take their time to see if you’re a good fit for them.
Finn knew that. That’s why he got Craig and Stone involved, to get an in with the station owners, the stockmen, and the rest of the locals.
And it worked. Showing them he wasn’t here to judge or interfere but to help…
But it was Porter who helped me see that there’s more to this place than just a job—along with a big lesson on teamwork. Porter is big on teamwork.’
‘I noticed.’ And she’d noticed how much Amara loved her job, the team, and her partner.
‘Porter not only showed me this town’s incredible depths of community spirit, but he also helped me find… home.’ The smile was adorable, full, wide and beautiful as she shared a nod, then left the room.
But the word home landed heavier than Amara probably meant it to, shifting something inside Taryn’s chest. A word that still felt intangible, like a dream she used to have when she’d stay at her grandfather’s for the summer, chasing shade on his old verandah, sipping sodas and swapping girlish secrets with her cousin—when they were still alive.
Everywhere else had just been a posting. Just another military base on another rotation to not settle into a home. Only her grandfather’s had been the place that felt constant.
Taryn tucked the thought away, to sort out her notes, just as the Batcave door swung open and in walked Romy.
Stronger and shorter than expected, wearing a big friendly smile while lugging a heavy camera case over one shoulder. Dressed in cargo pants and hiking boots, Romy looked like she’d just stepped off the set of a wildlife documentary.
David Attenborough, eat your heart out.
‘Morning,’ she chirped. ‘You must be the one poking around all our secrets. I’ve been warned.’
Taryn raised an eyebrow. ‘Warned?’
Romy grinned, stepping around the table.
‘Stone said not to flirt, unless I’m getting tasered.
Izzy said not to overshare. And Amara just gave me a look that could be interpreted in so many ways—knowing my luck, all wrong.
As for Finn? He just grunted and walked off muttering something about not bleeding on the carpet.
So naturally, I came to talk.’ Romy set down her case with a thud, then offered a hand.
‘Romy Radford. Consultant-slash-drone-wrangler, so says Stone, but mostly I’m a wildlife videographer. And you are?’
‘Taryn Hayes.’
‘Lovely to meet you. Do you prefer Taryn, Hayes, or just the Fed?’
‘Taryn’s fine,’ she replied, half-smiling at the newcomer.
Romy casually flopped into a chair like she owned it. ‘Great. So, the short version is, I came up here to film a documentary about crocodiles, met Stone, and accidentally helped the team crack the Cold Stock Case by using my drone.’
‘Cold stock?’
‘Crocodiles. Hatchlings and eggs—over a hundred. Huge scandal. Big bucks. French fashion houses. Family legacies. Generational drama.’ Romy waved her arms wide, eyes sparkling, with an excited energy that was addictive.
‘As much as I was ticked off that I couldn’t use any of my drone footage at the time for my own films, and we’re talking incredible cinematic imagery gone, all because Finn made me sign an NDA. But he did pay for the footage—’
‘I’ve got the invoices.’ Taryn tapped the paperwork resting on the table.
‘So you’ll know that I’m technically a consultant. Whenever Finn calls, I follow Stone.’ Romy leaned in, all conspiratorial. ‘The camera loves Stone.’
Did Romy just purr?
‘Anyway, we’re on the hunt to explore the mysterious Spinifex Highway, so I can’t stay long.
Like I said, I mostly film wildlife documentaries when not helping Finn, and I cannot wait to do one on the banteng.
Especially after that last bust, when Amara got lost with Porter and nearly died with that super expensive stolen horse, which ended up shutting down their illegal way station and recovering all that wild stock. ’
Taryn blinked. ‘What?’
Did the woman even breathe?
‘Oh, wait. Was I supposed to tell you that? Izzy mentioned confidentiality.’ Romy tapped her chin. ‘Stone said not to give away too many company secrets.’ She winced. ‘Oops.’
Taryn blinked again. Once. Twice.
‘You’ll need to talk to Finn for the details.’
‘Naturally,’ Taryn murmured.
Romy beamed.
Interview over.