Chapter 14
Cassidy
I couldn't stop staring at the money scattered across the wooden floor.
Hundreds of these foil packets had been stuffed into the walls.
Whoever had done it had gone to a lot of trouble to conceal them and then match all the interior walls again.
More packets were visible deeper in the cavity. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.
How much was here? Hundreds of thousands of dollars? Millions?
"Cassidy," Xavier said again, resting his warm hand on my shoulder. "Talk to me."
I met his gaze, and I must have looked scared shitless because his expression shifted from anger to something I rarely saw in a man … concern.
My brain was moving too slowly, struggling to catch up. "When I was looking for the hose under the cottage, I found a pallet stacked with plasterboard. Most of it looked new. I thought it was weird, but I would never have guessed this."
He peered inside the cavity again. "At least we know why the cottage didn't go up in flames. These foil packets provided insulation." Xavier pushed his hand into the cavity and pulled out more.
"There's a fortune in here, Cassidy." He turned to me, his face hard. "Whose is it?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. My hands shook.
"Cassidy, is this drug money?"
"What?" I jerked back. "Hell, no." Though I didn't actually know. I had no bloody idea.
"Then it's money laundering." He tore open another packet, spilling out hundreds of fifty-dollar bills. "On a massive scale. This isn't some small-time operation."
"It makes no sense. The farm's in trouble. Declan says we're always struggling to pay the feed bills and a heap of other stuff. We don't have this kind of money."
"Well, somebody's hiding it here."
"Yeah. No shit." I rolled my eyes.
"Who comes out here?"
"Nobody. You saw it when we got here. Dust and cobwebs. Nobody's been here in months. Maybe years. We only use these outstations in emergencies."
He frowned, scanning the room like the walls might give him answers. "Could it be those Henderson brothers?"
"Fuck no.” I huffed. “They're too dumb for something like this, and they sure as shit wouldn't stash cash on our property. Trust me, they'd spend it faster than they could steal it."
A strained laugh escaped him. "Then it has to be someone who lives here. On Koolaroo."
The words felt like they were coming from underwater. "Yeah, and my guess is it's my fucking father."
“What?” Xavier gasped. "Frank? Why would you think that?"
I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to organize the chaos in my head. When I dropped my hands, I met his gaze. "My father's been missing for over two weeks."
"So you said last night." He sat back, shoving a foil packet away like he hated the sight of it. "How did he go missing?"
"He just vanished. No one's seen him, no one's heard from him.
" The words tumbled out faster now. "My brothers and I have been searching for him, but all we keep finding are more mysteries and secrets.
And now—" I picked up a wad of hundred-dollar notes and threw it against the wall. "Now this bullshit.”
Xavier stood and reached for my hand. "Come on, let's get some fresh air, and you can tell me what’s going on from the beginning."
I took his hand and let him help me to my feet.
"Don't know about you, but I'd kill for a coffee," he said, his eyes softening like we were just having a normal morning. Like we hadn't just discovered evidence that someone in my family was a criminal. Like casual conversation could make any of this okay.
I huffed. He was probably used to fancy coffee shops on every corner, and staff who knew his order by heart. Poor bastard was in for a rude shock. He'd wish he'd never come to Koolaroo.
Shit, he probably wished he'd never come to Australia or heard of Frank Branson.
I leaned over to scan the jars and cans that had survived the fire. "It might be your lucky day."
"It already is."
I turned to glance at him, and he jerked back. Was he checking out my ass ? I cocked my head. "You all right there?"
"What? I was just searching for a coffee machine."
I laughed. "A coffee machine. Wow, you really have come from a different universe." I pulled out a massive tin. "In the Outback, we have Nescafé Blend 43."
"Blend 43. I’ve never heard of it."
"Of course, you haven't. Here, take this." I shoved the tin toward him. "And will you put your damn shirt on? Your hairless chest is blinding me."
He cocked his head. "You don't like a hairless chest?"
"Hell no. You look like a twelve-year-old. Now, will you just ..." I shoved him away.
He chuckled, and as he walked toward the bunks, it was my turn to check out his butt.
Scowling, I yanked my gaze back to the scorched kitchen cupboards.
Only one tin cup had survived the fire, but several cans of food hadn't exploded.
They didn't have labels anymore, so it was a potluck as to what was inside them.
I put it in the bucket with a saucepan, spoon, and the matches, and strode outside.
The morning sun was fully up now, painting the burned landscape in shades of gold and gray.
Xavier followed me out a moment later, tugging his shirt on, and his ruined shoes squelched as he crossed the verandah. He caught me looking at his shoes. "Don't say it," he warned.
"I wasn't going to say anything." I dumped out the bucket. "Can you grab some water?"
"Sure." He took the bucket and squelched his way around the corner.
The cottage campfire, with rocks set in a circle, was a short distance from the steps. There were a few tufts of long grass around that had survived the inferno, but other than that, we needed to tear off parts of the verandah railing to use for fuel.
Xavier returned with a bucket of water, and working together, we used the ax to cut sections of the timber railing, broke them into pieces, and stacked the smaller bits on top of one another.
"Now if only we had some paper to start the fire," I said, wriggling my eyebrows at him.
He gasped. "You're not serious."
"Hell, yes, I am." I strode inside, grabbed handfuls of money, and returned to the firepit. "I've always been good at burning through cash." I stuffed the money among the timber stack.
He chuckled. "You're such a badass."
The flames took, and I set the saucepan full of water over them. We sat on the step side by side, and I was surprised he didn't ask more questions. Maybe he needed the coffee to kick his brain into gear.
After the water boiled, I heaped two spoons of dried instant coffee into our only tin cup and added the water. "Here you go,” I said, holding the coffee toward him. “Café alla Koolaroo."
He flashed a grin at me that stole my breath. Holy hell, he’s handsome .
He took a sip and scowled. "Christ. That's rough."
"It'll put hair on your chest."
He burst out laughing. "Now, that was funny."
"Thanks." I returned to the fire and opened the food tin. "Hey, you're in luck again. Baked beans."
"Yum. My favorite."
"Liar." I poured the contents into the pot.
"Actually, just so you know,” he said, “I don't lie. I promise you, Cassidy, I would never lie to you."
I blinked at him. "Okay ... so, why do I feel like that's a loaded statement?"
"I'm just saying, after everything we've been through, we should be honest with each other."
I stiffened. "If you think I'm lying about that money?—"
"What? No." He held up his hands. "That's not what I meant at all. I believe you. I just meant ... I want you to trust me. That's all."
The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. I didn't know what to do with that kind of honesty. Every guy I'd known had said some bullshit like that before they’d screwed me over.
I'd never lie to you, sweetheart. Trust me. Famous last words.
But the scary thing was, I believed him. Or maybe I just needed someone who didn’t hide behind rotten secrets.
I snorted. "You picked a hell of a family to want honesty from. We're basically a crime drama waiting to happen."
"I'm beginning to think that. It's been one hell of a ride since I met you."
"Yeah, well, speaking of rides, here's some brutal honesty for you. We're about ninety miles from the homestead, and at this stage, I have absolutely no desire to walk there. So we're going to ration our food and hope that someone finds us."
He squinted into the distance. "And how would they do that?"
"With a bit of luck, they'll have seen the smoke and come investigate."
"Luck, huh?"
"Yep. Just like surviving that inferno."
"And those dumb Henderson brothers," he said, with a deadpan expression.
I giggled. "Yeah. And them." I brought over the heated beans and handed him the spoon. "Breakfast is served."
"You go first."
I cocked my head. "You worried these are past their expiry date?"
He shook his head and gave me a look like he was so disappointed in me. "No, Cassidy. That's what gentlemen do."
"Oh." I had absolutely no idea what to say, and that was messed up. I always had something to say. I sat beside him and ate some beans while he sipped the coffee. Neither of us spoke for a few beats.
"So, Mr. Honesty. Do you really think you're related to Frank?"
He nodded. "That's what my mother says."
"If that's true, then she, umm, slept with my dad while he was married to my mom."
He nodded. "Mom admitted to having an affair with Frank."
I shuddered just thinking about it. But I shouldn't have been surprised. I already knew Frank had been a cheating bastard, and it had been eating me up for years, having to keep that secret from my brothers.
"You don't seem surprised." Xavier looked at me so hard, it was like he was trying to read my mind.
Thank Christ he couldn't. I had way too much bullshit going on in my brain.
I huffed. "It's just, Mom would've been pregnant at the same time."
He shifted on the step to look at me. "Pregnant? You sure?"
"You said you’re thirty-six. My oldest brother Mitch is the same age."
He whistled. "I have brothers? How many?"
"Whoa." I raised my hand. "Just hold up. I'm telling you now, it's highly unlikely that Frank's your dad. I mean, look at you—you don't even have chest hair."
"Well, I do have hair." He ran his hand over his chest. "But I get it waxed."
I pulled a face. "What the hell for?"
His mouth twisted like he was trying to hold back a smile, then shrugged. "Some women find it sexy."
"Well, not this woman. Bring on the hair, I say."
His eyebrows shot up. "So does that mean you, um, don't wax?"
"Mind your fucking business. I know we're being honest and all, but that's crossing the line."
"Shit. Yes, you're right. I'm sorry." He lowered his gaze like he'd truly offended me.
Bloody hell, he was making it hard to be mad at him. "Right, now what were we talking about?" I reached for the tin cup. "Want another?"
"Sure. I'll make it." He stood.
"Knock yourself out."
"You were going to tell me about Frank disappearing." He met my gaze, and the pleading in his eyes broke down all my barriers.
I sighed. "Yeah. That’s right."
He took the cup and the empty saucepan toward the fire.
"Frank rode out on his horse about two weeks ago, and nobody's seen him since."
He washed out the saucepan, swirled the contents around, and tossed them out. Then he turned to me and raised his eyebrows. "And?"
"And what? That's all we know."
"But ... but is that unusual for him to ride off like that?"
"Yes. Well, sort of. Dad would sometimes take off without telling us where he was going, but he was never gone for more than three days or so. We were organizing a cattle muster, and he's never missed one of those."
"Do you think he's alive?"
"Xavier, I just said nobody's seen him. If I knew he was dead, I would’ve said that."
"Right. Sorry." He returned to the step and sat. "And his horse hasn't turned?—"
"Oh, I forgot. Mitch found Razor. He had blood on the saddle, which could be Dad's, but there were no other signs."
"Huh. And what about the police? Have they gone through bank records and done other checks?"
I scrunched my nose.
His eyebrows shot up. "You haven't told the police? Why?"
"The water's boiling." I pointed at the pot.
He strode toward the fire and made the coffee. He kept silent, though I was certain his mind was racing over the next question he should ask.
He returned to the steps. "Ladies first." He handed me the cup.
"You obviously don't know me. I'm not a lady."
"I'm trying to get to know you."
Goddammit. Why does he have to be so nice?
I sipped the coffee. "Hmm, tastes good." I handed him the cup.
"Thanks." He sat and sipped the coffee.
I ran my hands down my jeans and heaved a sigh. "My brothers and I debated over telling the police. But we wanted to have answers first. Kayden is adamant that the moment people learn that Frank’s gone ... maybe dead ... that people will try to get their hands on Koolaroo property."
"But you don't agree?"
"Well, we don't exactly have investors knocking down the doors, especially as the books don't look so good at the moment."
He frowned. "Could the money trouble have something to do with Frank disappearing?"
I shrugged. "No idea."
"Right." He handed me the cup. "I guess that actually rules out Frank as having anything to do with that money inside the wall."
I sipped the coffee, thinking through that statement. About how Frank had always had secrets, and we'd discovered a few massive ones since he'd disappeared. However, this money thing was different. This amount of money was the kind of secret that got people killed.
"What?" Xavier said, leaning over to undo his laces.
"This hidden cash isn't the only weird thing we've found since Dad vanished."
"Okay ..." He pulled off his left shoe and settled it in the sunshine. "That sounds ominous." He pulled off his sock and squeezed out the water.
I put the tin cup down, pulled off my cowboy boot, tipped out a trickle of water, then set my boot in the sunshine, too. "Do you remember our call to you?"
"Of course. That's what started ..." He paused.
I frowned at him. "Started what?"
Xavier ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in dark spikes.
He looked at me like his throat had been ripped out. “That call lit a fuse that exploded my life to bits."