By the next morning, Jack’s mood had shifted to tetchy. He never got tetchy. Pissed off, yes, but arbitrary tetchiness got a person nowhere fast.
Today, Mr Bernardo’s son, the local odd-job man, would be fixing Jax’s fence. He’d texted her early, before 6 am, to ask if anything had happened overnight. He’d almost got into the wagon after waiting for a response for twenty-five minutes as two scenarios flew through his mind. One, she’d been attacked and hurt. Two, she was still in bed with the big guy. But she’d texted back with a curt response, saying if something had happened she’d have called it in and she was out feeding the dogs and would he kindly disappear.
He pushed back in his chair and swivelled it, refocusing on a conversation he’d had with Will yesterday.
After the scones had been devoured, they’d taken a drive to meet the Baxter parents. Nice sort. Decent folk. Hardworking. No spare cash—it had been obvious. He’d mentioned the bull, bringing it into general conversation. Mrs Baxter had been keen to hear the latest. Will had told him that she hardly ever came into town. Too busy farming, cooking, cleaning, caring. Jack felt sorry for her, but he supposed it was the way of things out here.
‘Mr Baxter was quiet when we mentioned Tonto,’ Will had said on the drive back. Jack was driving, for which he was grateful, as the steady concentration required to drive on nothing but a stretch of red dirt road and the odd camel crossing here and there gave him the opportunity to think things through on issues regarding the op.
‘Yes, he was,’ he admitted to Will. Mr Baxter’s silence, and his seeming inability to meet Jack’s eye, indicated he might know something about the bull, or maybe about his sons. But Jack didn’t think he had detailed info. Maybe he was just a man in despair. And who could blame him, the way his eldest two had turned out.
‘Might want to talk to the older Baxter boys,’ Will said.
‘Not yet.’
‘What’s going on, Jack?’
Jack took a breath. ‘I’m not going in hard,’ he explained. ‘I want to know more.’
‘I caught the look on your face when Mrs Baxter told us her two boys were working as cleaners at Lizard Claws.’
Will was right about that. He hadn’t known, and it put them in Bivic’s reach, if not his circle. ‘Yeah? I was planning on visiting the manager, that’s all. I’m surprised those two got a job there, given their employment record.’
‘They won’t last out there any longer than they lasted working for Jax.’
‘Have you met Roper’s nephew?’
‘No. Why?’
‘Just wondering what sort he is.’
‘The kind who got the Baxters a job, I guess. You can chat to him when you visit the mine.’
‘No need for that. I’m only popping out there to introduce myself. When was the last time we were invited over to review their airport security?’
‘Two months ago. Problem?’
‘No.’
Will didn’t question him again for another five minutes.
‘So,’ he said. ‘We’ve got graffiti at Roper’s place along with two stolen goats, we’ve got similar drawings at Jax’s place along with a rammed fence, and we’ve got a bull.’
‘Odd, huh?’ Jack said, throwing Will a look. ‘I haven’t got a thread yet. Have you?’
‘I’m currently working on why you’re making visiting the mine a priority.’
‘No priority. Just a friendly, like I said.’
Will looked away. ‘I think you’ve got more of an idea of what might be going on than I have and that worries me.’
Jack said nothing. It felt like he was letting Will down by not telling him about the op, but he was under orders.
‘Those two we’ve got on curfew work out at Lizard Claws too,’ Will said, in a tone that stated he was still fishing and he didn’t care that Jack knew it. ‘I suppose that also interests you.’
‘They had canvas sheeting and rope in the back of their vehicle. I’m interested, but only in why nick items like that in the first place.’
‘Plus all the electronic gear.’
‘Yeah, that too.’ There was no evidence yet to support that the two on curfew were given these items as payment for drugs, but that’s what Jack’s op believed had happened. In which case, had those items been stolen in the first place, in order to pay for the drugs? The men had been stood down from Lizard Claws mine site until an investigation was undertaken and completed, and they were living at the motel in town.
‘So why have detectives in Kalgirri taken this off us?’ Will asked.
‘Not sure.’
‘But it’s another connection to Lizard Claws.’
‘Let’s take it as it happens,’ Jack advised.
‘Right,’ Will said. ‘Let’s do that.’
Jack took a breath and brought his mind off the conversation with Will yesterday, and back to the present and his office, with the smell of antiseptic, air freshener and his third cup of coffee that morning, which had gone cold.
He gave thought to his current situation. He had twelve officers. A lot for a town with only 350 residents, but they had another 700 or so living in the communities or on the dozen pastoral stations, and they patrolled 133,000 square kilometres all up. Most of it red dirt, a lot of it old tracks and low, seemingly never-ending bushland. Not that they could patrol that distance anywhere close to regularly.
They kept an eye on the eleven mine sites in the area and an even closer eye on the workers who popped into town for some rest and relaxation, which usually meant trouble for the cops. They had one of the only pubs within a four-hour drive.
Plus pension day on Thursdays.
The amused thought he’d had about doubling rosters that day made him think more about his officers. Louie and the cocky one, Johnson, who’d nicked a scone, weren’t Jack’s type although he gave them their due: they were decent cops but he doubted Louie would get anywhere above sergeant rank. Donna was a different kettle of fish entirely, and he wanted to talk to her about where she was heading.
Then there was Will Bennett. Sergeant for the last eight years and seemingly with no hankering to move up. He’d been acting senior sergeant a couple of times when Luke was on leave. Donna had done a couple of stints acting up as sergeant when Will went on leave.
Will would only be in Mt Maria another year. How would he feel when his tenure was up? He was fully ensconced in the town as far as Jack knew. What would Barbara do, having to pack up house and take two children out of school? Probably just get on with it. She’d married into the department.
How would Jax cope if they got it together? It was a worry, because Jack wouldn’t want to take her out of her known and loved environment, but what the hell would Jack do if they stayed in town?
Become a snake wrangler. Pram fixer. Or trade camels. He’d never seen so many feral camels as he had out here.
The strangest thing occurred to him. Throughout his career, he’d been used to working with a team, but always knew that when he was undercover he was on his own. He preferred it that way. He didn’t trust many people in the first place. Knowing that Luke had Will as a backup and decent offsider made him realise for the first time that he had nobody.
‘Sarge!’ Jimmy called, breaking Jack’s reverie.
‘Mary’s on line three,’ Jimmy said. ‘She and the ladies have a flat battery and they’re asking if we can kindly assist.’
‘Where are they?’
‘About quarter of a mile from the museum.’
He thought about it for a second, glancing at the multitude of files strewn across his desk. Most of yesterday’s policing had been sorted. Today he was faced with paperwork or rescuing the Agatha Girls. Tough call.
He checked his watch: 11 am. Will would be in soon, and he wanted to ensure Will was around when he called the mine manager. Best to make it all look aboveboard.
His attention was caught when someone crossed the doorway to the office. ‘Louie.’
Louie halted.
‘Jimmy!’ Jack called. ‘Tell Mary I’m sending Sergeant Lee and tell them I’ve had a word with him regarding their concerns.’
‘What’s this?’ Louie asked, stepping into the office, cap in hand. Jack wondered if it pissed him off having to wear the cap because it must mess up the short, manicured spikes on the top of his head.
Plus, he chose to wear the load-bearing vest instead of the belt. What idiot would choose to wear the vest in this heat? The belt was bad enough. ‘The Agatha Girls have a flat battery. I presume it’s Mary’s vehicle. You and Johnson can sort them out since we’re a bit slack. Jimmy will give you their position.’
‘I’m supposed to be out with Donna.’
‘Next time, check the roster before you leave your shift.’
Louie walked into the office and checked. ‘Why aren’t I with Donna? We’re usually paired up.’
‘Because you’re taking too much interest in her.’
‘So? And what’s all that about having had a word with me? What concerns have the old birds got now?’
Louie took note of Jack’s stillness, obviously unsure about whether to head in with his backchat. He wanted to; Jack could see it in his eyes. What was it? Boredom? Perhaps he was the kind of copper intended for the city streets, or more likely, he’d make a better detective than a police officer.
‘The ladies told me they thought you were out to get them in some way. Said you told them to stop making trouble when they advised you they thought they were followed.’
‘Who would follow them?’
‘According to them, somebody did.’
‘We can’t rely on them. Especially Mrs Frith.’
‘Do you have something against her? Or any of them?’
‘Only that they’re a pain in our backsides.’
‘Let me worry about that.’ No-one was on overtime at the moment, they were all working normal hours, and maybe getting a bit slack because of it. He needed to energise them with more than a buckled pram wheel and a flat battery. The district training officer from Kalgirri was due out next week so they’d all get weapons training. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted them to come together a bit more, build rapport. They probably felt like they’d lost it this week, with Luke gone and an ex-detective in the hot seat.
Maybe he’d throw a barbecue for them all, if he got time to go out and buy the sausages.
He glanced at the wall clock. ‘You’re on shift in three minutes. Get kitted up and get going—and Louie,’ he added, ‘any further complaints about you and we’ll be having a little chat.’
‘What has Donna said?’
‘Why would Donna say anything? Have you given her cause to make a complaint?’
‘Of course not.’
‘So we’re done.’ Jack went back to his paperwork.
Louie stood in the office for a few moments before moving off, but Jack ignored him.
For the next half-hour, time ticked by as Jack studied rosters and human resources reports. He was waiting for Will to arrive so he could call the mine and begin his unobtrusive enquiries about Bivic, and he needed Will to hear that conversation. At some point he was going to have to bring Will into the op, but not yet. If word got out that Jack was undercover, it’d not only blow his cover, but Bivic would scarper, the op would be pissed off and Jack would be pushing paper for another year. He was under orders to tell no-one, but he wanted Will to get a taste of what was going on. He had a feeling he’d be needing backup sooner than he’d anticipated.
The office was quiet, the front desk was quiet, the phones weren’t ringing and his mind was full of Bivic, the op—and any likely danger for Jax.
Jax gathered the empty espresso cups from her friends and put them onto the verandah railing. Rachel was leaving that afternoon, heading for her long, restful holiday by the beach. Donna had popped over on her way to work.
Jax leaned against the railing, not wanting this time with her friends to end, but they’d both only come over to get together quickly one last time before Rachel left.
‘How come you’re not with Louie?’ she asked after Donna said she’d be out with one of the other officers today, and from now on, or so it appeared.
‘Jack changed the rosters. I’m a bit pissed at him actually.’
‘Jack? Why?’ Rachel asked.
‘He’s got to be doing the man thing. The protect the little woman thing. You know how much I hate that when it goes overboard.’
‘Isn’t he supposed to do that because he’s OIC?’ Jax asked gently.
Donna scowled. ‘I can handle Louie. In fact, I was enjoying handling him.’
Jax’s mobile rang and startled her. She wasn’t used to having it with her and she must have upped the ring volume because the bird trill warbled so loudly that her friends winced.
She checked the caller ID then slipped the mobile back into her pocket, unanswered.
‘Who was that?’ Donna asked.
‘Jack. He’s pestering me.’
‘Isn’t he supposed to do that because he’s OIC and you have a problem with intruders?’ Donna asked, brow raised.
Touché. ‘It’s because he saw Solomon kissing me. My cheek!’ she added quickly when both friends stared at her.
‘What did happen between you and Jack?’ Rachel asked.
‘She won’t say.’
‘I’m going to keep prying.’
‘Let me know when she opens up. He’s a good cop,’ Donna added. ‘He’s a good boss too, apart from taking away my fun times with Louie.’
Jax had hoped Donna would go for promotion and felt sure she’d get it over Louie Lee, if that had been an issue with them both being tenured at Mt Maria. She wasn’t sure how it worked. But Donna hadn’t wanted to leave town before the end of her tenure. Not that this was likely to have happened straight away. It would probably take months for her to get a city location close to where her mother lived. Plus, Donna wasn’t a city cop anymore. She’d done all that and seen more than Jax liked to think about. But it was her nine-year-old daughter, Claire, or Clarrie as she was mostly known as, that Donna worried about. She felt she’d get better chances of childcare and so forth if she was in a city. Clarrie’s father had hit Donna. Just the once—more than enough. He’d packed up and left. Donna refused to press charges, which surprised Jax, although, strangely, Rachel had understood. Possibly because it had all happened to her, but on a much bigger scale.
Jax took a look at her new best friend. Luke had done so much good for Rachel since they’d met. Sticking by her and not pressuring her for anything more than just loving him and being with him. Luke wanted marriage. Rachel was still unsure. Not about her love for Luke—that was all-consuming—but about herself, her persona. She’d had four names in her life. Four—just to stay hidden from her criminal ex. She was still finding herself, she’d told Jax. Still getting used to being Rachel Meade, a woman who was in a healthy relationship, a woman who didn’t have to look over her shoulder.
‘I can’t help but like Jack,’ Rachel said. ‘He’s built like a footie player, but he can wear a suit and not look out of place in it. He’s kind. He’s funny. He can look after himself. He’s armed—and he’s got sex appeal.’
‘He’s definitely worth looking at,’ Donna said with a grin at Jax, egging her on to agree or at least say something.
‘Has he asked about Frances?’ Rachel said. ‘Or have you told him?’
Jax shook her head. ‘Only you two, Luke and Rosie know about Michael.’
‘Don’t you think he needs to know?’ Rachel persisted.
‘Why? He’s not staying.’
‘Do you know that for sure?’
‘She hasn’t let him in yet; how can she know for sure?’ Donna said. ‘She hardly looked at him when he was town three months ago, let alone spoke to him.’
Jax pursed her lips. Should she tell them what he’d done in Kalgirri—or what she’d seen? Somehow, it felt like a betrayal to Jack if she did that. He was here again, and still wanting to make his explanations—or excuses. Should she give him the chance? But how to do that while still making it clear she couldn’t have any relationship with him—if that’s what he was looking for. ‘He doesn’t need to know about Frances, or Michael, because we’re not getting close in a personal way. But he is okay to look at,’ she added with a cheeky smile she hoped would lead both of them off the subject of how good-looking, big, tough and strong Jack Maxwell was.
‘I heard about him calling you Isabelle. It’s lovely.’
‘He’s teasing me.’
‘No, really,’ Rachel insisted, ‘it’s the way he pronounces it. Like it’s the name of his favourite poem or classical music piece.’
Jax felt herself flush. He did say it tenderly, but it was a romantic-sounding name to begin with, and would probably sound tender no matter what man spoke it. Except there was an underlying sensitivity in Jack’s tone when he pronounced it.
‘I like the name too,’ Donna added. ‘I’d use it.’
‘You would?’ Jax asked, astonished that down-to-earth Officer Donna would want to be known by a name so romantic.
‘Damn right,’ Donna said. ‘I don’t often get the chance to be a real womanly woman. Not with a Glock and a Taser on my belt,’ she added, with a wide smile.
‘I thought that was how you liked it?’ Rachel said.
‘Not always,’ Donna said, her smile slipping enough to make Jax take a deeper look at her friend.
Was she lonely? It must be hard, now that she was on her own and had sole care of her daughter.
‘Better get going,’ Donna said, pulling her car keys out of her jeans. ‘By the way, did Frances come home with youth centre brochures yesterday?’
‘No. Why? Was she asking about the youth centre?’ It would be fantastic if she was beginning to take some interest in what was available in the town.
Donna shook her head. ‘Said Billy was going to get her some. Don’t worry about it.’
Something about the way Donna dismissed it had the opposite effect. ‘What’s the problem? Is it Billy? Or was Frances rude to you?’ She braced for the answer.
Donna’s smile appeared so fast it lit up her face and her eyes. ‘She’s just like you in many ways.’
‘How?’
‘Fires up quick.’
‘I’m sorry, Donna. I’ll have a word with her.’
‘Don’t. I like her as she is. She’s doing okay, Jax, and so are you.’ Donna opened her arms and took a step forward. ‘Come on, then. I’ve got to get to work, Rachel has to get to the beach and Jax has to ponder her feelings for my OIC.’
Rachel and Jax joined her for a communal hug.
‘Have a wonderful time,’ Jax said quietly to Rachel. ‘I’ll miss you.’ Love for her friends consumed her, squashing all the gaps that had filled with worry. ‘Love you both so much.’
‘Me too,’ Rachel said, choked up.
Donna broke the hug. ‘I love you both very hard.’ She looked at Rachel, holding her composure together so tightly a person might easily miss the emotion in her eyes. ‘Have a good time. Keep Luke in line and don’t come back married because Jax will never forgive you for not being at the wedding.’
Rachel laughed, a soft light in her eyes. ‘Not sure what’ll happen, but I think I’m open to some persuasion.’
‘Oh my God!’ Jax said on a shocked laugh. ‘No secret wedding! Donna’s right. I’d kill you if I couldn’t be there.’
Half an hour later, Jax was in her office doing her accounts, having said goodbye to Rachel for the next few weeks. Her thoughts were a maze and she’d already made two errors resulting in a loss in the profit and loss column instead of the small but rewarding profit the café had made in the last quarter. As soon as she had enough money, she was hiring a bookkeeper. That wouldn’t happen fast though, not with the new education bills that had already started to pile up.
She paused, listening for the sound of a car, but there was nothing but silence. She couldn’t see out the front of the house from here, in the back spare bedroom-cum-office, but Billy was on his way to pick up Frances and take her to the stables for a look around. Frances had simply shrugged when Jax asked if she wanted to go. Jax had presumed the shrug meant yes.
She’d have to ask Frances about the youth centre brochures too, but she wouldn’t ask in front of Billy. Something was up and Billy would easily lie. Frances, she wasn’t so sure about.
Pushing the P&L paperwork to one side and picking up the School of Distance Education Year 7–Year 10 handbook, she thought back to four months ago.
After discovering that Michael and then Linda had abandoned Frances, she had contacted the authorities, advising them she wanted to take the child; she’d then been treated similarly to those who were interested in being foster carers: under the eye of counsellors and of child protection. Jax had spoken to people from the Department of Child Protection on the phone, and agents had been out to Mt Maria to see her home. That’s when she’d had to tell Rosie. Rosita had been younger than Frances was now when Jax got pregnant. Their mother had tried to hide the sordidness from Rosie, but the kid was smart and worked it out. She hadn’t said much but after Jax came home from the hospital, she’d stuck even closer to Jax’s side than before. Almost like she was backing her up. Or maybe it had been because their mother had been so bitter about everything in her life not being good enough and had taken it out on her daughters.
The Department of Child Protection had done background checks on everyone from her deceased mother to Rosie. They’d even gone into Jax’s health records. They knew she was the biological mother, but they still had to screen her thoroughly. The assessment had been fast-tracked due to Linda wanting to get rid of Frances and Michael already having had a punch-up with a man who accused him of being a pervert. Franca had been hurt in that altercation.
Jax had also undergone around twenty hours of preparation training. It had been different for her though, because she was the real mother, and yet she knew nothing about the child.
She jumped when Frances suddenly appeared at the door.
‘So what time am I going to the stables?’
‘Billy is probably on his way.’ Jax stood, wiping her hands down the front of her jeans and smiling. ‘Have you thought more about the language you want to learn?’ They’d sat at the table last night after dinner, having an almost one-sided conversation about the schooling and what was expected of both of them. Jax was waiting on a student coordinator to contact her, since Frances had been enrolled late in the term, and they had to make decisions and set a timetable for the subjects Year 7s would be studying.
Frances gave a throwaway shrug, looking out the window behind Jax. ‘Italian, I suppose.’
‘Okay.’ They hadn’t covered any more ground on the conversation they’d had regarding Michael, but Jax felt intuitively that the matter would come up again when Frances was ready to ask a question or make a comment. It was a big, painful subject for her, and there was more than one new and frightening issue her daughter was having to deal with. School. Who she was. Living a whole new lifestyle.
‘I’ve got our timetable sorted out.’ Jax had filled out the forms and jotted down notes for a timetable for all the subjects Frances would be studying for a minimum of twenty-four hours a week. ‘Shame Spanish isn’t a choice,’ she said, hoping that a gentle reference to Frances’s heritage might help, should Frances want to ask a question about it. ‘I speak a little Spanish but I’m not fluent, although your great grandmother was.’
Frances blushed in acute embarrassment as though the thought of being a family member simply reminded her of everything that had happened to her. ‘Italian’s fine. I’ll go wait on the front verandah.’
‘Don’t go off without saying goodbye!’ Jax called after her. ‘I’ve got some things I want Billy to take to Solomon.’ Solomon often helped her with the big dogs that were so fearful and strung up that Jax couldn’t handle them on her own without risk, and she thanked him by making homemade meals every now and again, freezing them so he could have them whenever he wanted.
She heard the front door open and slam closed.
She put the school handbook down and sat back in her desk chair, reflecting on the tentative and highly strung relationship with her daughter.
They said good morning, goodnight, thank you, no thank you. They ate all meals together in the kitchen. Jax cooked and Frances cleaned up. Mostly in silence, unless Jax was throwing comments around, attempting to bridge the seemingly eternal gap. They’d been together in the house for nearly a week. They were communicating, but they weren’t yet living together comfortably. Was this how it was going to work? Slowly. Delicately. Would they get to the point where they laughed together about something?
Jax had broached the idea of bringing the dogs in at night and had been amazed when Frances shrugged and mumbled something about Bella being funny.
Tonight, she’d let Bella inside. Frances wouldn’t be frightened of one little Jack Russell. They might laugh together over Bella’s antics. They might get closer, as mother and daughter or even just as two females in the one house. Tomorrow she’d suggest walking Kirby and Bella. The next day she’d add Winston into the mix. By the end of next week, they might have more to chat about. They might feel more companionable, if not totally comfortable, and find themselves in a position where they were able to talk about each of the emotional issues Frances faced.
One day at a time. One dog at a time.
She glanced through the bedroom-cum-office door at Frances’s bedroom opposite. The door was open, and she saw the bed, perfectly made with two cushions plumped on top. She’d expected loud music but there was never a sound from Frances’s room when she was in it.
She always cleaned up after herself too, which made Jax proud. She’d been prepared for teenage mess, with days’ old toast under the bed and empty biscuit or sweet wrappers overflowing in the wastepaper basket. But no. Frances was the tidiest little thing ever.
She halted as a thought tripped her up. Was that normal?
‘How come you’ve changed my partner?’ Donna asked as she sat at Will’s desk, doing something on the cop shop’s Twitter account.
Jack continued reading the report Davidson had filed for the DUI without a licence who’d been in custody and hadn’t liked it—requiring an overnight stay. There’d been a scuffle when he was given a meat pie for dinner and one of Jack’s younger officers had copped a backhander and a cup of hot tea. The offender was also wanted in his home town, suspected of animal theft: two cats—and a ram, for some unknown reason—so today he’d been extradited back to Boondurra. As it was 470 kilometres north, this had been a joint effort with two of Jack’s officers driving him halfway northward bound and two from the Boondurra station driving the same distance southward. He’d been handed over on the roadside with nothing around but camels and red dirt.
‘Because I want Louie to work with those officers who haven’t got as much experience as you,’ he told Donna.
He surreptitiously opened up Twitter and searched for @MtMariaPD.
‘You’re not playing look after the woman cop here, are you?’ Donna asked.
‘You can handle yourself, Murray,’ he told her, reading her tweet. ‘If you couldn’t, I’d be having a word with you.’
1 male DUI ex 08. No licence. Attacking pc with hot tea + meat pie. Disorderly! #sleepover #datewithamagistrate #flyingtoprison
Nice one. It’d be fun, handling the Twitter account. He wondered if he could guess the password.
‘So why the changes?’ she asked, shutting down the tab on Will’s computer and picking up the roster sheets.
‘Because Louie’s role is to offer support and learning curves to others. He’s sergeant now.’
She flipped a page, a frown forming.
It wasn’t an ideal situation not having more female officers, but circumstances dictated and it was still, generally, a male-dominated workforce. One female sergeant who’d been here for nearly two years had become pregnant and retired from the force. Johnson and Edwards couldn’t hack the remoteness so had been looking for placements in the city and as Johnson’s girlfriend was also an officer, she’d wanted out too and had left just before Jack got here.
He leaned back in his chair. ‘I’ve put Louie with Johnson, and Edwards with Eddie.’ Pip Edwards and Mike Edwards—no relation, but due to the same surname, Pip was known as Edwards and Mike, the newer officer, as Eddie. ‘We’ve got two female officers scheduled for a tenure here. As soon as Johnson and Edwards piss off.’ That was happening in two months’ time.
‘Good,’ Donna said. ‘I need some female company. Breaking a nail on the job is a hazard you guys don’t seem to appreciate.’
Jack smiled. ‘Donna,’ he said when she got up and made to leave. ‘Why didn’t you go for Sergeant?’
She gave him a shrug. ‘I need to be in Sydney eventually, close to where my mother lives, so I have childcare backup. I didn’t want to have to agree to moving to any old place.’
‘You’d likely have got the promotion,’ he pressed. ‘One, you’ve been on the force six years longer than slick-haired Louie.’ That dragged a smile out of her. ‘Two, you’ve already had acting sergeant experience and three, you’re female. So go apply.’
‘Jack,’ she said, standing tall, shoulders squared. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to be a single parent. Whatever I end up doing, I have to think about Clarrie first and foremost.’
‘You’ve got it about face,’ Jack said, leaning back in his chair and swivelling it a little. ‘I don’t know what it’s like to have a dependant but I do know that if it was me, the more I could progress myself, my career and my income, the better off any child I had would be.’
She frowned at what she obviously thought was interference, but he hadn’t finished.
‘I understand it must be difficult getting the childcare thing sorted,’ he said. ‘Especially when it’s busy and when we’re all doing overtime. But if you were to take a nine-to-five job you wouldn’t be doing right by yourself. Your soul would die in a desk job, Murray. To my way of thinking, if you’re not doing the best for yourself, how can you possibly be doing the ultimate best for your kid?’
‘Sermon over?’ she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. She spun on the tiled floor with a squeak of her rubber boots and headed for the door.
Jack sighed. ‘Wait!’
She turned.
‘I’m just telling you what I see. I’m not telling you how to live your life; I want the best for you.’ It was different for most guys, he knew that, but he really wanted Donna to get what she deserved, what she was more than capable of handling. Sergeant rank would only be the start; one day Donna Murray would make Superintendent, he was sure of it.
But maybe he wasn’t the one who should be pointing out to her what he felt would work for her in the long term. He was a single guy. A man responsible only for himself. No kid in the equation. He could basically do as he pleased, within reason.
So what was it like to fight to get the best for yourself when the end result was the betterment of not only yourself, but also any dependants? How much courage did it take to push yourself, and maybe your kid or kids, through the tough times so you could get to the rosier times?
He had no idea, and maybe he should get off the subject. ‘Donna, I don’t want to cross any lines here but I’d like to ask you something about Jax. It’s personal so you don’t have to answer.’
‘Interesting,’ she said, relaxing a bit and even producing a smile.
Jack cleared his throat. ‘Is there another man on the scene?’
She looked at him steadily for a few seconds, and he waited throughout the appraisal. ‘Well …’ She drew the word out and Jack couldn’t decide if it was because she was taking the piss or wondering how to tell him the truth.
‘She does have a lot to do with Mr Bernardo.’
‘The newsagent?’
‘She makes sure the café ladies make him a ham and tomato sandwich on rye every day, and has earned his undying love because she doesn’t charge him for it. He’s a lonely widower.’
He was also aged seventy-three. ‘I’m serious, Donna. I need to know.’
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘What will you do about it?’
‘That would be between me and Jax.’
‘What makes you think there’s a man on the scene? Not that I’m saying either way if there is or isn’t.’
‘Forget it.’ He picked up a file on the youth centre where he’d be giving a drugs talk to the kids next week.
‘Jack.’ Donna walked forwards, right to the end of his desk. ‘I’ve told her she ought to tell you.’ She wasn’t taking the piss now.
His gut clenched. Tell him about Solomon? About Frances? Or tell him she really wasn’t interested in him?
‘Frances?’ he asked, throwing his first guess into the ring.
Donna nodded. ‘Keep asking her.’
‘I’m pissing her off.’
‘So keep pissing her off. Oh, and by the way, Badass Billy is up to no good. Saw him hanging around Frances. Not sure what they were up to, but something didn’t make sense. Frances told me he was getting her brochures from the youth centre, but Jax said this morning that Frances didn’t have any brochures. Plus, Billy said he’s shifting gear.’
Jack took it all in. ‘You don’t know what?’
Donna shook her head. ‘He might have been exaggerating for Frances’s sake. Showing off. He does that a lot.’
Or it was true, and he’d been shifting this ‘gear’ for his brothers. But what gear?
‘Apparently,’ Donna continued, ‘Billy’s picking Frances up today. She’s going for a visit to the stables.’
‘You think we need to talk to her? Quietly.’
‘Billy’s a young fool at the moment, Jack, and I didn’t get a sense he’s doing something illegal—not that he knows of anyway. And I don’t want to worry Jax; she’s got enough on her plate. But I was thinking, maybe you could have a word with Frances.’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah. You. It’s a good way to get to know her.’ She smiled. ‘Might get yourself on the right side of Frances’s mother too.’
Donna left the office and Jack was left with his thoughts. Frances. He didn’t even know her surname. Was it Brown?
He glanced at his computer screen. Jax was from Victoria, around the Geelong area. The likelihood was that Frances had been born there. Easy to run a check, but he could only do that if he thought Jax was in harm’s way and he didn’t know that for sure. If she was in some danger from Frances’s father, Donna would have told him, as a cop. There was no reason to intrude on Jax’s past just because the Baxter boys might be causing trouble on her land, plus, everything he did officially was traceable. Running personal checks was a no-go area resulting in discipline, and maybe even dismissal. But how he wanted to do it …
Had she given up Frances for adoption? In which case why would she suddenly have responsibility of the girl? Where were the adoptive parents? Or had the kid been in foster care all these years?
‘Christ,’ he muttered. He could find out within minutes if he ran a check. Or if he called an old mate who now worked in child protection.