Chapter 14
The following day, after collecting her Hilux from Ray, then spending a long morning on farm calls and a detour to pick up a delivery from the feed store, Brianna crouched beside a drowsy kelpie, one hand gently pressing the dog’s flank while she checked for the telltale bloat signs the farmer had described.
The sheepdog licked her arm once before settling with a heavy sigh.
The farmer, a wiry man in his sixties named Murray, stood nearby with his thumbs hooked into his belt loops. ‘He was fine last night. Then this morning, just wouldn’t touch his food. Wouldn’t move much either.’
‘Looks to me like he just overdid it,’ Brianna said, straightening and brushing off her hands. ‘Give him a day or two. Small meals. Lots of rest. He’ll bounce back.’
Murray nodded gratefully and headed off to grab his wallet.
Brianna began packing up her gear when movement caught her eye.
Across the yard, near the equipment sheds, Trev stood partially obscured by a water tank.
He wasn’t fixing anything, wasn’t loading gear; he was just watching her watching him.
She froze a moment, heart ticking faster, then forced herself to give a small, polite wave.
Trev nodded, too quickly, then ducked behind the shed like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
What in the hell?
Thanking Murray for his prompt payment, she then loaded her bag into the Hilux and climbed behind the wheel, her thoughts churning as she revved the engine to life.
Sharon’s words to Hayden echoed. Trev. Joe.
Bent police officer. Close to Jack. Always around.
Always quiet. Her instincts pinged hard now. Something was off.
Leaving the engine idle, she sat behind the wheel for a moment longer than necessary, her fingers resting on the sun-warmed plastic, gaze unfocused.
The night before, Hayden had filled her in about Sharon’s visit and the unexpected, unsettling arrival of Sergeant Craig Dunlop.
His voice had been clipped, words measured, but underneath it all she could hear the flint of real concern. Real danger.
She exhaled slowly and reached for her water bottle, trying to shake off the image of Trev’s too-quick wave.
The pieces were starting to edge closer together, and she didn’t like the picture they were forming.
Didn’t like the way it was all making her feel.
As if she might be next. As if she might be a target if she didn’t back away from whoever was threatening Molly.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen, because just like Hayden, she felt compelled to protect her beautiful friend.
The kelpie gave a short sharp bark from where it now sat on the verandah of the ramshackle workers cottage. She leant out the window and offered it a soft smile. ‘You’ll be all right, mate, as long as you take it easy.’
It’s the rest of us I’m not so sure about.
Putting the Hilux into first gear, she pulled away, dust curling in the rear-view mirror like a warning whisper. On the way home, she rang and invited Molly over for dinner.
A couple of hours later, showered and with her portable speaker serenading her with Hank Williams’ honky-tonk voice, she cooked one of her go-to comfort meals – creamy garlic chicken with roasted sweet potatoes and a parmesan and rocket salad.
The cosy kitchen filled with the rich smell of herbs and garlic, and by the time Molly arrived with a bottle of red and a half-laughed apology for not having arrived earlier to help – not that she should have felt the need to, being a guest – the tension of the last few days had started to ease.
With the full moon to admire, they decided to sit out on the back verandah under the string of fairy lights, glasses of wine resting on the banister, their plates balanced on their knees.
Sherlock lay sprawled at their feet, snoring lightly.
Molly recounted her week between mouthfuls, the good, the frustrating, and the weirdly sweet old couple who argued every morning at the café about whose turn it was to feed their cat.
Brianna listened, laughed, topped up their glasses.
Then, with a comfortable lull settling, she chose her moment to tell Molly about Sharon’s visit to Hayden’s.
And Craig Dunlop’s unnerving comments.
Molly went still, her glass of wine halfway to her mouth. ‘He showed up at Hayden’s place? Just like that?’
‘He sure did.’ Brianna nodded. ‘He didn’t say much about anything in particular, but what he did say was odd. And the way he looked around, the way he mentioned Sharon being there, Hayden said it felt very much like a warning.’
Molly was quiet a long time. Then she said softly, ‘Jack used to say someone inside the system was playing both sides. I always thought it was just talk. The kind of thing people say when they’re scared. But now, I …’ She blinked faster, shook her head slowly.
Brianna waited.
‘There were times Jack said he paid in cash. Lots of it. Too much. Said it was part of “keeping things smooth”. I thought he meant with lenders. But what if it wasn’t just them?’
Brianna instinctively sat up straighter. ‘You think the copper’s involved in something shady?’
‘I think,’ Molly said carefully, ‘Jack was into something worse than gambling. And someone else was making sure it stayed quiet.’
‘I think,’ Brianna nodded, ‘you’re onto something.’
Molly swirled the wine in her glass, eyes thoughtful. ‘You know, I always liked Sharon. Even when she was with Jack. She could hold her own, never let him get away with too much. I was sad when they didn’t work out.’
Brianna glanced at her, surprised. ‘Really? You never mentioned that before.’
‘It was a while ago, and it was complicated,’ Molly said with a shrug.
‘Jack wasn’t an easy man. And Sharon, she wasn’t the type to forgive easily.
But when they were good, they were good.
And there was history there, more than most people realised.
They’d known each other for many, many years.
’ She paused, setting her glass down gently on the table.
‘Maybe that’s why she’s come forward now.
Maybe she’s finally ready to clear his name or at least point a finger at the people who ruined him. ’
Brianna nodded slowly. ‘Then I think we need to listen.’ She placed a gentle hand on Molly’s bobbing knee. ‘Really listen.’
‘Yes.’ As she cleared her throat, Molly’s gaze drifted out into the dark. ‘And start asking questions no one wants to answer, too.’
‘Maybe, if it’s safe to,’ was Brianna’s cautious reply.
‘I honestly don’t think it’s safe for me to stay quiet either, Bri.’ Molly shuddered. ‘Because I have, up until now, and look where that’s got me.’
‘Ransacked. Threatened,’ Brianna replied. ‘Paying back a debt that’s not yours.’
‘Exactly, and just for being a few days late on a payment, they wreck the only way I have to make an income.’ Drawing in a sharp breath, Molly looked to Brianna. ‘Imagine what they might do if I don’t pay at all – one day, god forbid, I might not be able to afford it.’
Lost for words that made any sense, Brianna sipped her wine, her heart knocking in her chest. The threads were tightening.
And this time, they might not snap – they might strangle.
* * *
Chapter One was its usual hum of clinks and chatter when Brianna slid into a seat opposite Tilly two days later.
Molly bustled behind the counter, sleeves rolled to her elbows and her hair tied up in a bright scarf, calling orders to the kitchen while expertly balancing a tray of cappuccinos.
She caught Brianna’s eye and gave a wink in greeting before disappearing through the staff door, already onto her next task.
Even though Brianna hadn’t been sleeping properly, the sun was warm, the coffee was strong, and it took only minutes to start laughing in Tilly’s company.
‘You should’ve seen Sherlock trying to jump into the bath.
’ Placing her cup back on the table, Brianna continued with her story.
‘I’d just run the water, turned my back for one second to grab a towel, and next thing I hear is this thunk and a splash.
He’d launched himself from the hallway like a cannonball.
Legs flailing. Missed the mat, hit the side of the tub, and slid straight in.
’ She laughed, shaking her head. ‘He came out looking like a drowned rat and sulked under the kitchen table for an hour.’ Tilly was laughing too much to respond.
‘He looked like a flying possum with legs,’ Brianna finished with a snort.
‘Oh, my goodness.’ Tilly wiped mirth-filled tears from her eyes. ‘I seriously need that image embroidered on a tea towel.’
Their plates arrived looking almost too pretty to eat.
Pumpkin scones with Molly’s house-made strawberry jam and a mountain of fluffy whipped cream for Tilly, and smashed avocado topped with crumbled feta and black sesame seeds on house-made sourdough for Brianna.
As they tucked in, the cackling laughter mellowed into comfortable chatter.
Brianna leant her chin on her hand, smiling. ‘So, tell me, how are the kids? And Gavin? I could imagine, with his sense of humour, your household might sometimes resemble a circus.’
Tilly groaned with a laugh. ‘Two toddlers under four? A husband who often acts like a child? Trust me when I say, it’s a full-blown rodeo.’
‘Ha, I could only imagine.’ Brianna shovelled a forkful of deliciousness into her mouth.
Wide-eyed and nodding, Tilly licked the cream from a fingertip.
‘Yesterday I found jelly beans in the washing machine, our little white poodle with stripes of my red lipstick all over it, and a pair of socks in the fridge.’ She chuckled like only a doting mother could.
‘Gavin’s good, though. Keeping busy at Hayden’s place.
And always trying to pretend he’s not as sleep deprived as I am. ’
Brianna tried to imagine it. ‘And when you actually get five minutes to yourself? What do you do?’