Chapter 21
Twenty-one
Lydia.
Finn slipped out of the room fast, with Taryn giving him a look. They both knew no one was supposed to see that wall. That was the whole point of doing it here, away from the station and prying eyes, and the possibility of something making it back to Red.
Also, this place was the safe house, should things go wrong for Lydia and Brodie. And with Lydia showing up unannounced meant something was wrong.
He scanned over Lydia’s posture, checking for any wounds. Catching the tension in her jaw, and the way she clutched her bag to her chest like a lifeline.
There was no sign of Brodie.
‘Everything alright?’
Lydia didn’t answer right away, just peered over his shoulder towards the hallway. ‘Are you alone?’
‘No. Taryn Hayes. The federal investigator.’ He shifted his stance, blocking Lydia’s view of the spare room. ‘She’s here helping with a case.’
Lydia’s brow lifted. ‘Brodie said he saw her yesterday, in the passenger seat of your troopy. Is this the Fed who came to shut you down? Is she helping now?’
‘Looks that way.’ He rubbed the back of his neck, still not making heads or tails of it, but it was working in ways he’d never expected. ‘Just no one really knows about it. So, I’d appreciate it if…’
‘I get it.’ Lydia casually swatted at the air between them. ‘Like no one knows I’m here.’
Behind him, the door creaked open. Of course, Taryn stepped out, calm as you please. ‘I’m making coffee. Who wants one?’ She held up the kettle, like this was her kitchen. ‘I promise it’ll be an improvement on Finn’s—his brews are so strong the spoon wants to run away with the cracked mug.’
Lydia gave a surprised laugh. ‘That’d be good, thanks.’ She headed for the table, only to pause on the other side of the kitchen bench. ‘Lydia Galloway.’ She offered a hand to Taryn. ‘I’m the clerk at the Elsie Creek Stockyards.’
Taryn shifted two mugs into one hand to shake with the other. ‘Taryn Hayes. I rearrange paperwork and occasionally tick off Stock Squad agents, especially their leader.’
Lydia grinned, clearly amused.
‘Not wrong,’ mumbled Finn, but it was seamless—Taryn filling the mugs, Finn dragging out chairs, Lydia settling down.
‘Alright,’ Finn said, wrapping his hand around the steaming mug of coffee, which was better than his mud. ‘Talk to me. What’s wrong?’
Lydia took a slow sip of coffee, like she was buying time, her eyes darting to Taryn.
‘Don’t worry about the Fed, I’ll end up telling her anyway.’ Which was true. And it wasn’t the first time he’d worked with a partner, it’d just been a while. ‘So, shoot.’
‘Red’s been on edge all week… Today was the worst, on account of a truck that didn’t show up this morning.
’ She glanced between Finn and Taryn. ‘Tooley was the driver. He’s a regular, who is very reliable.
He runs the route from Tinderflats Station, like he’s done for over a year, and normally arrives before first light. But today, he didn’t.’
‘How do you know it’s missing?’ Taryn asked.
‘The paperwork was lodged in advance, and Tooley radioed Brodie to have the yards prepped to unload that truck. Only, Tooley never arrived.’ Lydia paused, tapping the side of her mug.
‘And out here, when a triple-deck of cattle doesn’t turn up, people take notice.
We’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars of stock.
I always send out a few stockmen to check the truck didn’t get bogged, or worse.
’ She looked directly at Finn. ‘But this truck… It’s gone gone.
And I haven’t been able to reach Tooley on the radio, or on the phone, all day. ’
Finn and Taryn exchanged a look.
The bush telegraph hadn’t caught up yet. Which meant no one knew the Stock Squad had pulled the truck over and arrested Tooley at dawn.
Did that mean Lydia was here for confirmation? Or she already knew and was waiting for Finn to say something he couldn’t.
Finn leaned back, toying with the handle of his coffee mug. ‘You know I can’t comment on active cases, Lydia.’
Lydia gave a small nod, the kind that said she’d expected that answer.
‘What did Red do?’
‘Red has been circling the stockyards all day. Hassling poor Brodie with demands, in such a foul mood—and now this. Red’s gotten…’ Lydia exhaled, long and tired. ‘…worse.’
‘How bad?’ His voice dipped lower. He wanted names. Times. Heads to smack.
But then, he felt it.
A soft pressure against his leg.
Barely there. Yet, it surprisingly grounded him.
It was Taryn.
She didn’t say a word as she sipped from her mug. Didn’t look at him. Just that gentle pressure of her leg against his as a reminder to stay calm, and to listen first.
Lydia’s fingers trembled as she fiddled with the handle of her mug.
‘At home, Red’s been walking around at night like he’s checking for ghosts.
Then I found him flicking through loading dockets in my office—ones that had nothing to do with him.
And then he had a go at me when I asked what he was doing. ’
Finn’s jaw clenched. ‘He’d better not—’
Again, there was that gentle press against his leg, but this time Taryn leaned over and placed a hand on Lydia’s. Only for Lydia to grip it like a lifeline.
‘What was it about?’ Taryn asked gently.
‘Red said the numbers don’t match. That there’s stock unaccounted for.’ Lydia paused. ‘He’s right. But he’s blaming Brodie. Mocking him for his writing again. Saying he scrawls like a child and calling that poor boy useless.’
A protective fire built inside Finn over a kid who’d already been through hell and didn’t need this. ‘Do you think Red is going to use Brodie as a patsy for the missing stock, and put it down to clerical error?’
‘I hope not. Brodie’s just a boy. It’s not his fault what his parents did to him.
’ Lydia’s voice wavered. ‘He’s come so far.
Izzy’s been helping him, giving him tricks and tips to improve his reading and writing—and he’s trying so hard.
He really is… I don’t want Red pushing him.
Brodie doesn’t need to carry the weight of that. ’
And Finn was just another selfish bastard who’d added to that pressure, too.
Idiot.
Taryn squeezed Lydia’s hand again. ‘Hey, you shouldn’t have to carry it on your own, either.’
Lydia shared a soft look of someone who’d played their part of being strong for everyone else and was tired.
‘Some days, I wish I could build Brodie a flat at home. I’d happily let him take the guest room, if Red would only agree.
Because he’s…’ she trailed off. ‘Brodie is like a son to me, and I’d do anything for that boy. ’
Taryn pulled a small notebook from her back pocket. Ripped out a page and wrote a number on it. ‘That’s direct to me. If Finn’s out of range, or off chasing a lead, and you need backup, or just a chat—use it.’
Lydia took the slip of paper, as if it meant more than just digits, and laid it on the table. ‘You’re only in town for a few more days, right?’
‘That’s what the paperwork says,’ Taryn replied. ‘But let’s just say I don’t mind staying a little longer if the company’s decent.’
That earned a small, tired smile from Lydia.
Finn watched Taryn stepping into that space beside him like she belonged. Saying what he wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. Like she was his balance, like they were starting to find that place… And then the reminder that she was leaving.
‘You know where the spare key is,’ he said bluntly. ‘You’re welcome, anytime. Brodie, too. The food fairy hasn’t made a drop in a while, so you might have to bring your own tucker. But I don’t want you sleeping in that house if it’s not safe.’
Lydia offered him a tight smile, as her hand wrapped tightly around the mug. ‘Thanks, Finn. But that’s my home. I also know Red’s moods better than anyone, and I know he won’t hurt me. He’s just blowing off steam.’
Taryn said nothing, but Finn could feel her reading between the lines like he did: was Lydia truly safe with Red?
Lydia put her cup back on the table. ‘I know why Red is upset. I just don’t know what he’s doing it for.’
Finn exchanged a glance with Taryn. The motive.
‘No talk of a holiday? Land? House? Anything out of the ordinary?’ Taryn asked for the both of them.
Lydia shook her head. ‘Not a word. And trust me, I’d notice.’
Finn frowned. ‘Then what’s the play?’
Tooley had a mortgage and kids as a reason to drive that truck.
But Red?
‘If it’s not for the house,’ he said, ‘or a trip, or for some stud farm and herd out in the hills, then what the hell is he doing it for?’
‘What if it’s all of that?’ said Taryn. ‘And none of it.’
Lydia frowned. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Men like Red… They’ve seen the shift in the industry, and in the way people talk to them. One day they’re the backbone of a town. Next, they’re being replaced with tablets, QR tags, or direct connection to clients via the internet.’
‘Progress,’ Finn grunted like it was an ugly word, that even had Lydia nodding.
‘I bet he started it for you,’ Taryn continued.
‘Something good, like an early retirement plan. Maybe for that extra security over the mortgage. But now, Red’s probably in so deep, he can’t get out.
’ She then sat higher in her chair. ‘And maybe the idea of you finding out, or if you were to look at him differently for doing this… That might be what’s eating him alive. ’
Lydia’s mouth pressed into a line. She didn’t deny it.
‘Shame makes people do stupid things…’ Taryn said under her breath, but it was loud enough.
Lydia looked away, as if feeling that shame for her husband. ‘No, he’s not like that. Red has always looked out for me, since I was eighteen. He fights for the people he loves.’
Finn didn’t interrupt her. But he watched the crack form. The protectiveness and loyalty Lydia carried for her husband was falling the way the first rain washes the caked-on dust from buildings and vehicles, to reveal the colours you forgot were underneath the dust.
She’d been holding on so tightly. But now?
Finn could see it—the truth was bleeding through now.
‘He just… gets overwhelmed sometimes,’ Lydia whispered. ‘Red doesn’t like change. He struggles with the way the industry’s shifting. Feeling like he’s unheard.’
Taryn shifted slightly as if to speak—but this time, Finn was the one who pressed a knee gently against hers to hold her back.
He knew what she was thinking.
‘Shame makes people do stupid things.’ He’d seen it before. In the prison yards, where men circled like well-behaved dogs, with their heads down and their rage tucked behind their teeth. Shame took the wheel, until fear took over to drive them somewhere they never thought they’d go.
‘And fear’s the worst of the lot,’ he hissed. ‘It doesn’t stop until there’s no way back from the brink. Only the fall.’ And Finn was gunning for Red’s arrest to ensure he’d fall. Families had been hurt, and people had died under Red’s command as the thieving Stock Agent.
Lydia stiffened her posture, the shade darkening the rings under her eyes. ‘No. He’s not like that. He’s not.’
Denial.
Finn felt that old splinter under the skin.
The way his mother used to say everything’s fine, while the bruises faded, and the excuses stacked up.
How his father sat on the porch cradling his whisky like silence was a virtue.
Both parents, grown-ups, living with a lie.
Pretending a man—or men—weren’t capable of something terrible, especially when you loved them.
Denial… It was just the devil dressed in a Sunday hat.
Taryn pushed the slip of paper closer to Lydia. ‘Still, if Red crosses a line, even just with words, you call me. You don’t have to carry this alone. Not anymore.’
Lydia slipped the note into her pocket, then fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger as if contemplating her next move. The silence didn’t last long. ‘He’s back on the road. Said he had to follow up on a missing trailer with Bob, or Rob, or something.’
Bob. The man with the burner phone. The lead from Tooley.
Finn stood. ‘Time to meet up with Stone and Romy. House is yours, Fed.’
Taryn frowned at him. ‘You haven’t checked in with them yet?’
‘Of course I have.’ He frowned at her for butting in.
As if he’d leave his team out on surveillance without checking on their welfare.
‘Besides, Stone knows to call if it turns sideways.’ They all did.
That’s why he’d chosen them as his team because he didn’t need to babysit them to do the job they all loved.
‘I’ll walk Lydia out.’ Taryn then passed him a brown paper bag. ‘Your dinner.’ She gave a small shrug. ‘It’s okay, I’m used to eating alone.’
Like he was.
Strangely, he’d been looking forward to sharing a meal with her. Not because he was lonely, as he’d long made peace with solitude, but because he wanted to hear her thoughts over the Gaps File and this case.
He’d also wanted to simply sit across from her and share that space and not have to explain a damn thing.
But she’d gone back to the dining room, and the silence filled in behind her like it always did. And he had a job to do.