Chapter 17
Cassidy
I couldn't think straight.
One side of my brain was focused on the mountain of cash we'd found hidden in the walls of this old cottage. The other side was trying to figure out this fancy New Yorker who was convinced my deadbeat father might also be his dad.
On top of that, his mother was somehow involved in a plane that crashed on Koolaroo land decades ago, and she might have slept with Frank while he was married to my mom.
It was all fucked.
I squinted at Xavier. He'd flown halfway around the world for answers.
But I needed answers, too.
Like, did he know about the gems and jewelry Mitch had found in the cave with the skeleton?
Were they his mother's? If so, why the hell had Pamela left them behind?
My head throbbed.
There was a whole lot more we needed to discuss, but I couldn't just sit out here and do nothing. And I needed to pee.
"Come on. We've got things to do." I collected the tin cup and stood.
"We do?" He winced as he stood. Maybe his ribs were reminding him of the beating he'd taken at the pub yesterday.
Had that been only yesterday? It felt like I'd known Xavier for a week already.
I found it hard to believe this was the same guy who'd taken on three Henderson brothers without backing down.
Those bastards had probably been just as shocked.
Most people didn't stand up to them, let alone take on all three at once.
Smiling at the memory of Xavier's fencing moves with the pool cue, I stepped into the cottage.
The air smelled of ash with a tang of burned tomato soup. In the middle of the room lay a dead mouse. Poor thing looked like it was sleeping. I picked it up by its tail and turned back toward Xavier.
"Jesus." He jumped back. "What are you doing?"
My smile grew bigger. "Calm down. It's just a mouse. I’m throwing it outside, unless you want to keep him?"
"Hell, no." He raised his hands and backed away from me.
I strode out to the verandah and tossed the mouse into the paddock.
An eagle, a snake, or the crows would get an easy feast. I searched the sky and spotted a wedge-tailed eagle riding the thermals above.
Fires were like dinner bells to the birds, and there would be plenty more rodents for them to feast on out there.
When I returned inside, Xavier was toward the back, peering into the bathroom. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"What about that snake?"
"You want to feed these dead mice to the python?"
"Ha-ha. No. I want to know where it is. Do you think it's still in the bath?"
"Don't know. Let's have a look." I strode toward the bathroom entrance.
Xavier stayed at the doorway, one hand braced on the frame like he was ready to bolt.
The bathroom was covered in ash, and the water was gray and disgusting.
"Can't see him," I said, turning back to Xavier. He hadn't moved an inch from the door.
"Don't worry about the snake," I said. "He's probably got a belly full of mice and is hiding somewhere cool."
"Yeah, well, I liked it better when I knew where it was."
"Ah, no, you didn't. You shot out of the bath like your ass was on fire. Remember?"
"Believe me, that's ingrained in my memory forever."
I picked up a singed branch from the floor and swirled it around the bath. Then, trying not to giggle, I jerked the branch out. “Shit!”
Xavier jumped back, his eyes just about popping out of his head.
I burst into laughter. "Got ya."
"Jesus. You scared the crap out of me."
I tossed the branch away. "Sorry, couldn't resist."
"You're mean." He barked out a short laugh.
"Oh, come on. That was funny." I leaned over the bath and pulled the plug. The water gurgled as it drained, dragging ash and soot with it. Xavier inched to my side, and as we both watched, he was as rigid as a surfboard, like he was expecting the snake to surge out of the water any second.
But the python wasn’t there.
"See? He's gone." I clapped Xavier's shoulder.
"Yeah, but where?" he murmured, looking at the long drop toilet behind us.
“Maybe we should have left the lid up,” I said. “He could have gone out that way.”
“Could he get out through the roof?” He looked up through the hole in the roof.
“Who knows?” I said, stepping out of the bathroom.
Xavier followed me, checked under the remaining bunk, then crouched low to peer into the shadows.
As he searched the sparse room, I tossed all the dead mice outside.
When I returned inside, Xavier was prodding the mountain of cash with his foot.
I stared at the cash and foil packets scattered across the floor.
All my life, my damn father had preached that the only honest thing in the world was a hard day's work for a hard day’s pay. Every dollar I made had been earned through sweat, sunburn, and damn determination.
Xavier crouched, picked up one of the packets, and turned it over in his hands, his expression unreadable.
Someone had hidden a fortune inside these walls like it was a goddammed surplus stash, and I'd bet my favorite horse, Jupiter, that it had been Frank.
A cold thought slid through me. Frank wouldn't hide this kind of money unless someone was looking for it, which meant whoever owned this fortune could be hunting for it.
Xavier set the packet down and straightened with a deep frown.
My jaw tightened as another ugly realization hit me. Frank's endless lies could kill us all.
First, the skeleton in the cave. Then, those mystery jewels. Now, a mountain of cash.
How many secrets had Frank buried across this land?
Something twisted hard in my chest.
"I can't believe this fucking money is here." I kicked a packet. The bundle shot across the floor and thumped into the wall next to the bathroom. Was there cash in that wall, too?
I strode out to the verandah, grabbed the ax, and marched back inside.
"Hey, what're you?—"
I swung the ax, buried it in the wall, and screaming my fury, I pulled out a chunk of plasterboard.
"Jesus, Cassidy, calm down."
But I couldn't calm down. I swung the ax over and over, tearing down the wall one chunk at a time. As plasterboard rained onto the wooden floor, foil packets appeared in the wall cavity. "Fucking hell! There's more."
Tears stung my eyes. All my life, I'd been lied to. Frank and his hard day's work bullshit. I swung the ax again, hitting the plasterboard hard.
"Cassidy, hey, stop."
"No. This is bullshit." I yanked out a slab of plasterboard.
"I know." He reached for me.
I dodged his hand, stepped to another section of the wall, and attacked it too.
"Hey." Xavier's tone was so gentle it just about ripped me in two.
Tears blurred my vision, and I could barely see.
He grabbed my wrist, halting my next swing. "Hey, it's okay."
"It's not fucking okay." I swiped the tears away, angry that they were even there.
"Yes, you're right." He gripped the handle. "Give me the ax."
"No." I tried to yank it from him, but his grip was too strong.
"Let me do this." He drilled his gaze into my eyes, like he was trying to reach right into my mind. "I'm pretty good with an ax," he said, smirking.
A shaky laugh wobbled up my throat. "What?"
"I am. Let me show you." He led me to a dining chair. "Sit down."
I slumped into the chair, and Xavier returned to the wall with the ax. He glanced at me once, then turned to the wall, and with a powerful swing, he buried the blade exactly where he intended. He swung the ax better than half the stockmen I'd trained over the years.
With each chunk of wall he demolished, more packets of cash were revealed. Christ! How much is here?
Xavier worked like a beast—steady, relentless, no wasted movement. Just the ax swinging again and again, demolishing the wall piece by piece, revealing towers of foil packets stacked inside the cavity. Someone had been stashing this cash here for a very long time.
This much money was dangerous, and it put a target on every one of our backs.
Plenty of people knew this place existed. Just about every stockman we'd ever hired had been to at least one of our outstations. Many had been here.
I tried to remember the last time I'd walked into this cottage.
It had been years ago—at least six or eight years, maybe ten.
Frank had dragged me out here after I'd mouthed off at the homestead. He’d said I needed to learn some respect.
I'd spent the entire day chopping wood and repairing railings while he’d sat on the verandah drinking beer, watching me with that flat look he had. The one that said he was enjoying it.
By sunset, my hands were blistered and bleeding.
He’d said it toughened me up.
I'd called it fucked up.
He hadn't broken me, though. I'd made damn sure of that. But those days had left marks he didn't get to take credit for. His punishment had just hardened me, even when I'd thought I couldn't take any more.
I couldn't think of a single stockman who'd hide cash here, especially if they’d planned to come back for it, and it sure as hell wasn't my brothers.
The answer was Frank. It was always Frank.
This cash must be tied to his disappearance. I'd stake everything on it. As much as I'd wished him dead over the years, I didn't want that now. I wanted him conscious and tied to a chair while my brothers and I stood over him and forced him to reveal all his crushing secrets.
What kind of man risked his children’s lives like this?
The kind who’d never considered his children at all.
Frank wouldn't give a shit.
He was an arrogant asshole, and the only person he cared about was himself.
"Want me to take out this wall?" Xavier pointed at the wall behind the bunk.
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
He dragged the bunk to the middle of the room, then undid his shirt buttons, removed it, and tossed it onto the canvas.
And I got a front-row seat to something I hadn't been prepared for.
Xavier wasn't brawny the way the men around Koolaroo were built, by years of hard physical labor under a punishing sun.
Xavier was lean but ripped, and as he swung the ax, every movement was powerful and precise.
I wondered if he was doing the same thing I'd been doing—taking out his anger at his mother by punishing the wall.
The irony sat heavily. Both of us had been lied to by a parent for decades. The difference was, I'd had years to build scar tissue around mine. Xavier's wound was still raw and bleeding.
With the last wall reduced to rubble, he stepped back, chest heaving, sweat running down his spine, and his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle jumped.
He looked wrecked, and furious. He nodded at me, and a fierce ache gripped my chest as I realized that this man might have come from a life of luxury, but it hadn't all been rosy.
"What next?" he said, dragging his forearm across his brow.
"Sit down before you fall down." I pulled out the chair beside me. "I'll get water."
I dodged through the plasterboard debris to the kitchen, grabbed the jug, and headed outside. As the water tank slowly filled the jug, I tried to arrange my thoughts into something useful.
What was next?
I had no fucking idea.