‘Jack.’
Jack looked up from his desk.
Donna walked into the office, thumbs hooked in her equipment belt. ‘There’s an issue you need to know about.’
He closed a tab on his computer monitor and swivelled his chair to one side.
Donna closed the office door then perched on the edge of Will’s desk. ‘I’ve been asked not to tell you, but I can’t do that, and I told the person so. Jax,’ she said, then closed her mouth and waited.
Jack didn’t move.
‘I got a call from her last night, while I was off duty. She wanted me to drive out to her place. The fence in the paddock where they’re going to keep the bull has been mowed down. I reckon by a large four-wheel drive.’
‘Purposefully?’
Donna nodded. ‘There’s an old mine track at the far end of the paddock. One of many. Jax says it was likely joyriders, out for a spin and deciding to do some damage while they were having fun.’
‘But?’
‘Going by the tyre marks, they knocked it down, reversed, and hit it again. Four times. It’s a big, strong fence.’
Jack inhaled, and pushed to stand. ‘Why didn’t she report it?’
‘Because it’s you.’
He didn’t wince, but Donna might have noticed a muscle spasm around his mouth.
‘Okay.’ He grabbed his cap and keys. ‘I’ll take a drive out there.’
‘She’ll be pissed.’
‘I’m not worried about that.’
He logged off his computer and moved to the door. ‘Davidson!’ he called. ‘Buckle up. You’re coming out with me.’ He turned to Donna. ‘This isn’t personal. I’m going out there because I’d do the same for anyone in this situation. Best I get out and be seen as often as I can anyway.’ He indicated his desk and the folders and paperwork piled high. ‘While I can.’
‘I wouldn’t question you,’ Donna said. ‘Just doing my job.’
‘Thanks. Me too.’ He wondered what form his name had taken in their conversation last night when Donna advised she was going to tell Jack, but he didn’t ask.
He left the office and headed for Jimmy to tell him where he was going.
Jax lived ten minutes out of town and as Jack sat in the passenger seat while Davidson drove, his thoughts were on any number of scenarios but mostly, the artwork on the bull, on the enamel water trough where Roper’s goats had been stolen, and how it might all fit in. Plus, there was that kick-in-the-gut instinct that told him to be careful, to think through the facts.
‘Get much trouble from Lizard Claws?’ he asked Davidson, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He was used to driving himself, unless he was in the back of an op van. Having Davidson in charge of the troop wagon was slightly discomforting. But the rookie needed to learn as he did his job and Jack was in charge of ensuring that happened.
‘Not much trouble from them, Sarge. It was a small mine anyway, even before it closed. They’ve got about thirty, maybe thirty-five people out there now.’
Lizard Claws mine had underperformed continually in its first three years of operation and had been forced to come to a trading halt a few months ago. Over 200 workers had been made redundant, which had made Mt Maria a lively place for a while.
‘And their security?’ Jack would be in contact with the mine manager soon and he’d prefer it to look like official business, keeping interest well away from the op.
‘Zenith Security Management do it,’ Davidson said. ‘They do most of the security out here. But they won’t be needed much now, I suppose, with it more or less closed down.’
Each of the eleven mines in the district had their own risk factors dependent on operation, but common security issues challenged the entire mining and resource sector. Lizard Claws had its own airport. It serviced two mines and was thirty kilometres east of the mine. Workers for Lizard and for Bob Tail, its sister mine which was still working, were flown in from Perth or Kalgirri, and buses serviced each mine. It was the airport activity the op was most interested in. The op knew that drugs weren’t being transported from the site via the aircrafts, but cash obviously was. Large amounts. So where did it come from?
The options for getting drugs from the WA coast to the other states were a maze of easy pathways. Tourists, road train drivers, mine-site workers, incoming and outgoing shearers, backpackers working on the various stations. The paths were endless.
The routes Jack’s op was working on were around the tri-border area. The op felt the influx of drugs in Kalgirri was mainly from this spot. The tri-border was over a thousand kilometres away, but close enough in this vast district to have them put a detective undercover in Mt Maria, the largest town in the vicinity.
So far there weren’t any victims. No murders, no beatings, no gunshot wounds. Then the op, named Operation Blue Tongue by some bright spark, had shifted focus from South Australia to Kalgirri, then to Lizard Claws mine forty-seven kilometres north-east of Mt Maria.
They had their eye on one guy in particular, Joseph Bivic—Biv, as he was known. Jack knew of him and probably knew more about him than the guy himself. Six foot tall. Two hundred and five pounds. Tough—muscle and attitude. Age thirty-four. Didn’t smile. From his various ID photos it looked like his face had been set to a hard grimace a decade ago or more. He had no compunction to appear decent or friendly. He was hard and he was fine with the world knowing it. He was also now working at Lizard Claws on the decommissioning crew.
Bivic had been inside a number of times, mostly in his younger days, but hadn’t been emotionally hurt by his stints in jail. Rather, he’d grown from them, hardening, as though he’d been given an opportunity to engage with even more criminally minded citizens.
‘Do we have a problem out at Lizard Claws?’ Davidson asked.
‘I’ve just been looking at the latest security checks we’ve had out there.’
Bivic was working as part of the crew taking apart the mining processing facilities and equipment. He’d been working for some years as an overseer, taking care of idle plant and machinery on such sites. But it was a ruse. He didn’t take many jobs, just enough to ensure the police saw him working and earning a living. He no doubt had a stash of illegally gained cash hidden somewhere in WA—or elsewhere.
‘Sergeant Luke was invited to the last emergency response exercise out at the airport,’ Davidson said. ‘No drama as far as I know.’
‘No problem then.’ He wasn’t going to rush into things. He wanted to take it steady, appear genuine. Luke was going away for six weeks. Jack reckoned he could have this wrapped up in five. Possibly four, depending on what he found out and how soon he discovered it. He was on his own out here; no need to run. He could walk. He’d crawl if he had to.
‘I guess you’re taking a bit of personal time here, Sarge, going out to Jax’s place. Word on the street is you’re after her.’
Something about the smile in Davidson’s tone had Jack turn his head to peer at him, OIC style.
‘How dumb are you, Davidson?’
‘Huh?’ the youngster said, paling.
‘I’m just getting it right so I know the best way to handle you. On a scale of one to ten—how dumb are you?’
Davidson squirmed on his seat and gripped the steering wheel more firmly, but Jack was happy to see repentance in his expression. ‘Sorry, Sarge. Didn’t mean to get personal.’
‘So it’s currently around five on the chart?’
Davidson pulled his mouth into a chagrined grimace. ‘Maybe four.’
Jack smiled. ‘Let’s try to make it an even eight by the time we get to Miss Brown’s place, shall we?’
‘Got it. Sorry, Sarge.’
Jack settled back in his seat with a sigh, then noted a turn-off ahead. ‘Where does that go?’
‘Solomon Jones’s stables. He’s ex-Commando. He’s Sergeant Luke’s best buddy though, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
Jack sighed again. ‘I’m not worried. Take the turn.’ There was a fair amount to absorb regarding his new position, but it wasn’t as if he was devoid of experience. The majority of people thought it all happened in the big cities and, mostly, it did. But Jack had seen it all while he’d been in Kalgirri too—a mere 400 kilometres from Mt Maria. No distance at all out here. Murder, drug trafficking, organised crime, theft, the lot—from prostitution to search and rescue for missing tourists and prospectors. Cops had a front row seat on the best and worst of the human condition. Davidson hadn’t learned this yet of course, but neither had he taken much notice of whatever experience he thought his superiors might have.
‘Is there some reason for this visit to Solomon Jones I should know about, Sarge?’ Davidson asked.
‘I’d like a word about the bull before we get to the Brown place, that’s all.’
In the few minutes they’d been driving Jack had been contemplating how to approach Jax without disturbing any relationship they had yet to determine was between them. He’d worry her by just turning up on her doorstep, on police business or otherwise. Having two official issues he needed to clarify and chat to her about—the fence, plus rehousing Tonto—meant he’d feel on a better footing. He had every authority to visit, but having two reasons somehow made it more plausible. More like policing than a desire to see her and talk on a personal level.
The last thing he wanted was to be the person who caused her concern. If it wasn’t for that miracle thing happening in his chest—okay, his heart—he’d be tempted to advise himself to leave it be and move on. But the miracle thing had taken him off course for the first time in his life. If he were truthful with himself he wasn’t here because of the op. He was in Mt Maria for Isabelle Jaxine Brown, and if that wasn’t being truthful with himself, he didn’t know what was.
Five minutes later he made Davidson wait in the wagon while he unlocked the gate to Solomon’s property, closing it behind him.
Solomon paused at the far end of the stable block, clocked Jack, then went back to shovelling something from a wheelbarrow into a stall.
It was peaceful, if a little warm, walking up the rough earth track. Rough it might be, but it was pristine in that countrified way; the earth packed down, the verges whipper-snipped, and even the smell of horses didn’t over-permeate the air with that livestock aroma. Paddocks either side were green and horses with flynets over their eyes grazed on the grass or stood quietly beneath gum trees.
‘How are you, Solomon? Good to see you again.’ Jack held out his hand and Solomon threw his shovel into the wheelbarrow.
Solomon accepted the handshake. ‘You’re here about the bull.’
Interesting to note Solomon was the first person not to ask up-front and outright why he was in town as a police officer. ‘I’d like it moved as soon as. Vet can’t get up here until the end of the week.’
‘It was too sick to move before now. I’ve spoken to Jax. We’ll move it in my horse van.’
‘I’ll help.’
‘Are you good with animals?’
‘I’m hoping you’re good with bulls because I don’t want Jax getting close to it.’
‘You think she’s not capable? Or are you being over-protective?’
Jack paused. Why the rapid-fire questions? ‘I’m being careful.’
Solomon nodded at Jack’s shirt and glanced at the epaulettes on his shoulders. ‘Are you here for a change in lifestyle? Or for Jax?’
Jack sighed. So much for thinking he’d got away with not being questioned about why he was here … ‘What’s it to you?’
Solomon didn’t answer, but he was weighing him up and Jack let him do it, taking the opportunity to study him right back.
Solomon was a loner but that didn’t mean he was an oddity. He’d spent years in Special Forces and had returned to Mt Maria a while back to settle down and rescue horses. But he was also the nephew of Tani—an Aboriginal elder and sometime mind-reader, who still had some of those intuitive skills that Aboriginal people in this land had used for millennia.
‘Did you give Luke this much trouble?’ he asked, referring to the case Luke had been working on when Rachel had been in danger three months back. That was when he’d first met Solomon.
‘Not the kind I’m contemplating giving you.’
Was this some kind of challenge? ‘Do I need to be concerned?’
‘Depends how you handle it.’
Jack had a sudden reminder of how the bad guys who’d been after Rachel had been caught. Luke wouldn’t tell him who’d done it but Jack had his suspicions. Not a cop, but someone who could tie fancy knots and take charge of four big bad guys on his own.
Luke had talked a little about Solomon but not in-depth. As though he wanted to keep the deep friendship he had with the man undercover, or at least not shine a spotlight on it. Jack wondered why, but it had to be because Solomon had helped Luke. Maybe not quite on the right side of the law, but he was ex-Special Forces, and if Luke had reason to use his skills, Jack wasn’t going to question it. He didn’t want to get Solomon offside. There was no point.
‘Luke knew why Rachel was hiding out in Mt Maria almost from the start of the trouble she found herself in,’ Solomon said. ‘I didn’t need to interfere in that. He was looking out for her from the get-go.’
Jack reflected on this. So he was talking about that time, but what was the reference? ‘Are you telling me I have to look out for Isabelle?’ Is that where this zigzag conversation was going? ‘Or are you suggesting it’s unlikely I would look out for her?’ He had to force down anger at that.
‘Isabelle?’ Solomon asked.
‘It’s Jax’s first name.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Well now you do.’ On one hand, he was glad that the man hadn’t known; on the other, he was still boiling at the suggestion he wasn’t going to look out for her. ‘I happen to be on my way to her place now. Someone’s mowed down the fence on her back paddock.’
Solomon pursed his mouth as he considered this. ‘If I were you I’d be taking a drive to the Baxter boys’ places.’
‘If you were me you’d be wearing a badge on your sleeve.’
Solomon smiled, slow, like thick treacle seeped from a spoon—in its own time. ‘Whether you like it or not, Jack, I’ll be keeping my eye on her place.’
‘I’d prefer you didn’t do that. Leave it to us. The police.’
Solomon lost the smile almost as slowly as it had appeared and stared at Jack until his features became expressionless. ‘I care for her,’ he said after a few seconds.
This proclamation stunned Jack into silence.
Had he wrongly imagined that she was alone? First a child, now a man. Possibly an old lover, possibly a current lover, possibly a future lover.
He suddenly had trouble inhaling. ‘Are you after her?’ he asked. ‘Or already with her?’ Best if he got this intel up-front, because he’d be challenging Solomon Jones if—and Jesus if this didn’t push a spike into his chest—if he determined that Jax might be thinking along the lines of hooking up with Solomon. If they were already together it was clandestine, but Luke would have known. Luke would have told Jack—
‘It’s not what you think,’ Solomon said.
‘You don’t know what I’m thinking.’ Jack took a few seconds to make a measured appraisal of the man, not bothering to hide his interest. There was a sense of danger about Solomon but it sat so comfortably alongside a sense of worth that he understood it would take a long time to work the man out. If anyone ever managed to do that.
One thing Jack was good at was playing poker like a pro. He’d trained himself to show the world expressionless features whenever needed, but there was something going on here—something Solomon knew that Jack didn’t—and he felt a muscle twitch at the side of his mouth.
‘What are you telling me?’ he asked.
‘She was hurt, Jack.’
A sense of rage filled him as this information sank in. ‘When?’
‘Go figure it out. I’ll let you know when we intend to move the bull.’ Solomon turned and headed for his house, and Jack let him go.
Pointless getting pissed off without first knowing the reason for the anger. Facts. He needed facts. Emotion tore a person up and engulfed all reason. Jack couldn’t afford to let that happen. But he hadn’t got to the position he was in now in the force by being stupid.
Jax was the type of woman who was totally together. She looked after her animals, her business, her younger sister and her friends. She was the dependable type. People turned to her because they knew she could be trusted and that she’d always have good, solid, decent advice on how to handle any situation. But what did he know about Jax’s life out here?
Maybe not as much as he’d thought.
To begin with he hadn’t noticed the wariness in her during their first reunion yesterday—apart from her obvious concern about meeting up with him again. But when Frances had come into the café and interrupted them, she’d changed. She’d been out of her depth on a level he’d never seen before.
However she’d been hurt, he knew instinctively it was something to do with Frances. Or, more likely, Frances’s father.