Chapter 19 #3
The TAB was dim and smoky despite the early hour, ceiling fans pushing around the scent of old beer and sweat.
A handful of locals clustered around screens and betting slips, some already halfway through their first schooner.
Logan stepped in first, Hayden at his shoulder, both of them scanning the room with a practised ease.
Logan kept his posture casual; as he’d told Hayden, no one there knew he was a cop – not yet.
Trev and Joe were exactly where Hayden had hoped they’d be, slouched in cracked vinyl chairs by the far wall, eyes on the horses but their mouths still. Len, however, wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Logan leant towards Hayden. ‘You take the bar, see if anyone’s seen Len.’
Hayden gave a nod and peeled off. Logan didn’t approach anyone directly.
Instead, he angled himself nearby, pretending to scan the racing odds on the wall while keeping an ear tuned to the low, tense conversation between Trev and Joe.
About a minute later, Joe spotted him lingering, brow furrowing, but said nothing.
Trev gave Logan a longer look, clearly clocking the unfamiliar face.
Hayden stepped in quickly, a relaxed smile on his face and two drinks in hand. ‘Oh, hey, you two, this here is Mark. Old mate from Rockhampton. Big on racing. Thought I’d show him the local scene while he’s up.’
Trev grunted. ‘Don’t see many new faces in here.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Logan said with a disarming nod. ‘I’m just here for the horses.’
Trev and Joe seemed to accept it, though their eyes lingered a moment longer.
Logan and Hayden grabbed seats nearby, feigning interest in the horses onscreen.
Logan sipped from a glass of soda water, eyes occasionally drifting to Trev and Joe.
Hayden took tentative sips of a Coke. Ten minutes passed.
Then Trev’s phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and his face went still. The blood drained from his cheeks.
‘What is it?’ Joe asked.
Trev leant in, whispered something low and clipped, then shot to his feet. Whatever it was, it had Joe scrambling up after him, abandoning their half-filled slips on the table.
Logan leant towards Hayden and murmured, ‘Middle of the night, I went back out there. Made the soil above the toolbox look a little disturbed, but just enough to make someone nervous if they checked. Looks like it worked.’
Hayden gave a low whistle. ‘Clever. Mess with their heads before we even show up. I like it.’
Logan gave a faint smile. ‘Criminals can always be manipulated, one way or another. You just have to think like a copper when it counts.’
Hayden leant over and murmured, ‘I reckon this is us catching them in the act.’
‘We shall see,’ Logan replied as he stood. ‘Come on, let’s go check out what they’re up to.’
They slipped out after them, keeping their distance as Trev and Joe rushed to Trev’s ute, engine firing and tyres spinning as they took off.
Logan and Hayden climbed back into the Prado and fell in behind.
Breaking off at a junction that led down to the old cattle yards, they parked a few paddocks back, behind a line of ironbark trees, where the vehicle couldn’t be seen.
From there they continued on foot, traversing a scrubby fence line, pushing through tangled undergrowth, past lowing cattle and the dry rustle of cane.
The heat pressed down on Hayden’s back, cicadas screaming above them, sweat beading under his collar. Every few steps they paused, listening.
Eventually, they reached a patch of flattened grass nearer the spot Jack had circled on the mud map, close enough to see and hear without being spotted.
They crouched low behind a pile of discarded wire mesh and Logan reached into his back pocket, pulling out a slim digital recorder.
He clicked it on and aimed it, the red light blinking softly.
‘We’ve got them,’ he whispered.
Trev and Joe were out by an old, rusted trough, joined now by Len.
He was wide-eyed, frantic, his movements jerky and uncertain.
Trev paced like a caged dog, while Joe lingered on the edge, visibly rattled.
The scene already stank of desperation. Len kicked violently at the dirt, then said something too low to hear.
Trev grabbed his arm, trying to calm him.
Joe stepped back, glancing around like he could feel the walls closing in.
Then another vehicle crested the ridge. An old four-wheel drive, its body dusty.
Hayden stiffened, recognition flashing across his face as he read the number plate. ‘That’s Craig’s car,’ he murmured.
‘You sure?’ Logan’s voice was hushed.
‘One hundred percent.’
The vehicle rolled to a stop. A long pause.
Then the driver’s door opened. Craig stepped out, and to Hayden’s shock, Sharon emerged from the passenger side.
He watched as Craig moved close beside her, his hand resting briefly on the small of her back.
The ease between them wasn’t professional, it was personal. Intimate. Repulsive.
Hayden’s eyes narrowed. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered. ‘That explains a lot.’
Even from a distance, her presence hit like a slap – cool, poised, dangerous. She wore a white blouse over jeans, sunglasses perched like armour. Her low boot heels bit into the dirt with every step.
He and Logan crouched lower still, the heat and tension closing in like a vice.
‘Boys.’ Sharon’s voice carried, sharp and commanding.
‘You three were supposed to keep this clean. I told you to make sure the box was buried nice and deep. Now it looks like it’s been dug up, and not by us.
If anyone’s found it, we’re not just in trouble, we’re done.
Prison, headlines, the whole bloody town turning on us.
For all our sakes, it better have been a bloody feral pig rooting through the dirt. ’
Len’s wrinkled face was pale, with sweat slicking his temples. ‘We did what you said. No one’s been near it until …’ He paused, swore. ‘… until people started sniffing around again.’
Craig crossed his arms. ‘I told you we should’ve torched the whole site. You idiots left loose ends everywhere.’
Joe’s voice cracked. ‘Jack threatened to go public. Said if we didn’t let him walk away clean, he’d blow the whole thing wide open.
Names, dates, everything. We told him fine, then let him think he was in the clear.
Next thing I know, he’s wrapped around a gum tree. Don’t tell me that’s a coincidence.’
‘Yeah?’ Sharon snapped, rounding on Joe. ‘So, you thought letting him walk was smart? That he’d just disappear quietly? Now he’s dead and you’re all pointing fingers like you didn’t know how this was going to end.’
Len stepped forwards with his fists clenched. ‘You all owe me. I’m the one who messed with his brakes. Me. I did what none of you had the guts to. And don’t pretend you didn’t know.’
Trev flinched. ‘You were only meant to scare him, Len.’
‘There’s no scaring someone like Jack,’ Len hissed. ‘He was going to blow the whole thing open. So I bloody stopped him.’
Sharon froze. ‘You didn’t tell me that.’
‘I didn’t think I had to,’ Len said, voice hoarse. ‘You wanted him quiet. He’s quiet. For good.’
Craig looked like he might vomit. ‘We’re all going down if we’re not smart here, and not just for selling illegal weapons and drugging racehorses, but for possible murder now, too.’
Sharon lifted her hands, palms out, trying to steady the moment. ‘All right. Enough. Panicking’s not going to fix anything. We keep our heads, we keep our story straight, and we make damn sure no one else gets curious. Got it?’
Nobody answered her.