Jack was sitting at his desk and had no need to get closer to the barred window in his office that looked out on the exercise pen. The sun was on his side. Nobody could see in, but he could see out. More than just silhouettes too; the blind was nothing more than shade cloth.
He blinked, his thoughts stilled. He could do that—put his reactive thoughts on hold. It came from practice and experience—but it was harder to still his imagination after what he’d just seen.
It was a kiss on the cheek from one friend to another, he told himself. Except there was more to it. He even thought that perhaps Solomon knew he was watching them and had done it on purpose.
Solomon’s words ‘she was hurt, Jack’ still rang in his head, as they had most of the restless night. Part of the reason he’d asked about her daughter yesterday—and got her offside—was because he needed to ensure it wasn’t the child’s father who was causing trouble on her property. She’d refused to answer when he’d asked where Frances’s father was; instead, closing the conversation and shutting him out, which effectively told him much more than she thought. She was scared, but he didn’t think it was of Frances’s father, more like something within her, something she was struggling with.
The phone rang in the front office and Jimmy’s voice, robust through the partition wall, brought him round.
‘Mt Maria Police Department, how can we help you?’
There was a pause while whoever had rung was speaking.
‘Not possible,’ Jimmy said. ‘You need to call the new CEO at the town hall. She sorts out rubbish issues, not the police. If you forgot to put your bin out on the designated collection day I’m afraid we can’t assist by taking it for you. We can only send a vehicle if you’re about to get shot.’
Jack found a grim smile as he heard the phone crash down on its receiver. He rolled back his chair to stand. He was slowly getting used to Jimmy’s gruffness. He had no choice. As it happened, Jimmy was good at handling those who wasted police time, although his backchat needed constant monitoring.
He went to the office door and opened it. ‘Take it easy on the public, Jimmy,’ he called.
‘My first duty is the care of you lot, Sarge,’ came the response. ‘Unless you want to personally dispose of rubbish. Things are a bit slow around town.’
Slow? It wasn’t even 10 am on his fourth full day yet he felt like he’d left real policing behind. He was up to his eyes in paperwork but he’d already had to deal with a fallen tree, a snake in someone’s garden shed and a call from someone who’d let their kid’s pram roll down a hill and the wheels had buckled. That last one had given him a fright, but thankfully the pram had been empty.
He swung back to the office and stopped still as Jax came from the lockup area and headed down the hallway.
He waited for her to get closer to him, expecting her to stop.
She nodded as she reached him, not meeting his eye and not pausing.
‘Jax!’ he said, but not loudly.
She halted and turned.
‘Can I talk to you for a moment?’ he asked, indicating he’d like her to step into his office.
She hesitated.
‘Sarge,’ Jimmy called. ‘Luke’s on line one.’
‘Tell him to go away.’ He looked at Jax again. ‘I just want to ask a few questions about the Baxter boys.’ He could have added ‘nothing more’ but he didn’t. He had a dozen questions for her, all personal, and if he got a chance he was going to take it. How else was he going to find out what had happened to her? How a daughter had appeared out of the blue yonder. Who had hurt her—and when—and whether or not she and Solomon had a thing happening.
She moved into his office and he pushed the door open, leaving it that way so she didn’t feel trapped.
He pulled out a chair for her but she shook her head, obviously preferring to stand. Maybe in case she had to make a quick getaway.
Her fragrance wafted in front of him as he passed her. It was soft and sexy as hell, just like Jax—even dressed in jeans and T-shirts, she couldn’t hide the curves. Not that she tried to hide them; she just didn’t realise how well she wore them. That made him wonder about the men out here. How many of them had tried it on with her? Even casually dressed, she had that aura of sensual appeal, although it wasn’t the sexy look that had got to him when he’d first seen her. It was just her, the woman, all of her. Persona and appeal—the lot.
‘Everything all right with the bull?’ he asked.
She didn’t exactly blush but her face took on a look of surprise for a moment. ‘Fine. Solomon thinks we can back the horse truck up to the gated side, open the gate bit by bit as the truck’s tailgate moves into place, and just wait for him to get on the truck in his own time.’
‘I know. He told me.’
‘What was that with Luke?’ she asked.
Jack smiled. ‘I’ve already taken three calls from him yesterday and today. The sooner he and Rachel get out of town, the easier my life is going to be.’
A shadow of a smile crossed her features. ‘Is he being OIC-ish with you?’
Jack nodded. ‘Frightened I’m going to mess up something in his town.’ His smile widened as he looked at his desk. ‘Haven’t got a chance of that happening with this lot waiting for my attention.’
She glanced at the folders and notepads strewn across his desk. ‘It is odd that you’ve taken this job.’
Here we go. He was going to have to lie. ‘I wanted out of the detective ranks for a while, that’s all. I wanted to give myself a breather.’ And I want you. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d clapped eyes on her. But he hadn’t known to what extent until he’d returned here briefly three months ago. That’s when the intense feelings he’d experienced when he first saw her had taken over and plagued him. What he wanted to know now was whether it was the real deal—the full-time, long-term deal, or just a moment in life.
‘I originally requested leave.’
‘Why?’ she asked.
He hated doing this. ‘Told them I might start getting emotional on the job. They wanted to kick me out the door as fast as they opened it.’
Her features fell, as though sudden worry had been thrust in her face.
‘But my DI sussed me out,’ he carried on quickly. ‘Said I just needed a change of scene for a while.’
Don’t be. It’s not the truth. He brushed off her concern with a grin. ‘Don’t worry about it. I was just bored. My DI recognised it and suggested this—’ He tipped his chin, indicating the office. ‘Felt like a good move, so here I am. I like this town,’ he added. ‘It’s got a lot of charm. A lot of appeal.’
He was in love with her. Of that he was almost certain. Especially after the rush of jealousy that had shot through him a few minutes ago when Solomon had kissed her cheek. He hadn’t expected to have an opponent—not out here. It had made him think more deeply about what was going on inside him.
Love affairs weren’t always meant to go the distance. You could fall in love with a person and then out of love—not that he had personal experience of this but he’d seen it happen. If he was in the long-term, forever kind of love, it was going to change his life. That was the issue bothering him. How would it work? How much change was involved? Once he had those facts, he figured he’d have a way forward.
He also realised that he’d come here to Mt Maria without giving any thought to how far he was heading into the unknown. It pissed him off that he’d missed the clues and the signs. Too eager to see her. Too eager to get her in his arms.
‘I wanted to ask you about the Baxter family,’ he said, resting against the front edge of his desk and crossing his arms over his chest. ‘I’d like to know a bit more about them but don’t want to start asking questions on the street because there’s nothing to go on yet.’ He’d decided not to visit either boys. Not until he knew a little more. Although he was on the lookout for any damage to either of their vehicles, but both Baxters drove old utes, not large, powerful four-wheel drives.
‘Of course.’ She relaxed a little now he’d started in on the official side of things. ‘The parents run a farm about fifty kilometres north. Sheep mainly, some goats. Old Hugh Baxter, Mr Baxter’s father, is a …’ She paused. ‘Well, he’s a drunk. I’m afraid there’s no way to say it kindly.’
‘I’ve read about him. He hasn’t been bothering the town for a few weeks though.’ Old Hugh Baxter liked swinging an axe after he’d downed a bottle or two of Jack Daniels and he liked to show off his skills the length of High Street. Luke had confiscated the axe head months ago, and Hugh had taken to swinging the handle.
‘He’s getting worse, health-wise,’ Jax said.
‘So he’s been no use on the family farm for some time.’
‘Neither have the older boys. They live on an acre of Baxter land about a kilometre from the family house. They’ve each got a small house.’
‘I know they cause trouble, but so far it’s been between themselves.’ They hadn’t been nabbed for burglary, destruction to property or car theft unless it was from each other or on each other’s property—and then whichever brother had brought the charge against the other would drop it a couple of days later. ‘So where does the bad gene come from?’ he asked.
‘Hugh, probably. But now it’s them who spur him on to do stupid things, like lighting a camp fire in the bush in the middle of summer. They used to drive him into town so he could do the axe routine.’
‘Stupid boys.’
‘Young men now. They’re twenty-three and twenty-five.’
‘Do you think it likely the Baxter boys set fire to Mrs Arnold’s shed?’
She took a breath, thinking about it. ‘Up until I fired them, I’d have said no. I’d have said they’d be too scared to actually hurt anyone or do damage.’
‘We haven’t been able to find any evidence of who it might have been,’ he told her. ‘Whoever did it, they knew what they were doing.’ They’d found no prints, not even a footprint. It had been a swift and professional execution, the shed and its equipment burned to the ground.
‘Well, the Baxters are all talk,’ Jax said. ‘Or they act up out of town, either at their own places or in the bush—destroying vegetation, opening farm gates on purpose so stock gets out, hunting without a licence, getting drunk. Stuff like that.’
If they were responsible for Mrs Arnold’s shed, what had changed them? Or had it been someone else … ‘And what about Roper’s nephew? The Agatha Girls told me he was trouble but I’ve heard nothing else about him. How did the Baxters hook up with him?’
‘No idea. Never met him, although Rosie has. She didn’t like him.’
‘Does he work?’
‘He works at Lizard Claws.’
A bullet of caution hit Jack between the eyes. Joseph Bivic worked there too. ‘How old is he?’
‘I don’t know. I presume the same age as the Baxters. They’ve never had many friends before but they sometimes get together at the pub with men their age.’
‘What does Roper’s nephew do at the mine?’
‘Jack—I don’t know. He’s only been out here about a month, I think.’
Bivic had been at Lizard Claws for five weeks and three days. ‘Do you know what vehicle he drives?’
‘No,’ she said, looking at him with a keener interest. ‘Do you think it was the nephew who destroyed my fence?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ But he’d be looking into it. ‘Do you know where he was before he worked at the mine?’
‘No.’
He looked down as he thought through the puzzle; the case, the connection. His thoughts kept going back to the mowed down fence and the size of the vehicle that had been used to ram it. If Roper’s nephew was around the same age as the Baxters and driving a pricey vehicle, where had the money come from? Fly-in fly-out mine-site workers were no longer rewarded with a hefty wage packet, and Roper wasn’t anything above your average older farmer still trying to make a living.
The tags or drawings they’d found suggested the Baxters. It was the kind of irresponsible thing they’d do, like leaving gates open so stock wandered off. What concerned him, though, was why the Baxters were suddenly feeling brave enough to cause serious destruction and damage to others’ property. It was as though they’d changed overnight—or within the last five weeks and three days. That bullet that had hit Jack in the eye suddenly had a poison point. Roper’s nephew. Was it Bivic? But why the tags? What were they up to? Bivic was a professional criminal; the Baxter boys were idiots.
‘Did you see the drawing on the bull?’ he asked. ‘Before the Agatha Girls hosed it off?’
‘No. Why? Is that significant? Was it the same as the drawing at my place?’
‘I don’t know yet.’ He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Amelia Arnold because she was out at the museum sorting things out for the reopening, while he was stuck at his desk sorting out snake and buckled pram-wheel issues.
‘What was the drawing at Mr Roper’s place after his goats were stolen?’ Jax asked. ‘Was there a square frame, like the drawing at my place? Because if there was, then that’s a connection.’
The drawing at Roper’s place was similar to the one on her property but he wasn’t going to tell her. ‘If you want to do a more thorough interrogation you’ll have to go through twenty-eight weeks at the Academy first.’
She eased down, and even smiled again.
He unfolded his arms, and pushed from the desk. He wasn’t supposed to front up to Bivic; the op had said to play it easy and maintain a watch on him from afar, keeping eyes and ears open. They needed hard evidence about the suspected drug trafficking before they could swoop in and grab him.
This was getting serious. He didn’t know what kind of danger Jax was in yet, or even if she was in danger, but he wasn’t about to take chances. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he’d have to ensure she was alert to the situation—and safe. ‘I’ll talk to the Agatha Girls, and to the Baxter parents. I’ll advise you of anything I think you need to know. But I do want to insist, officially and otherwise, that you get those three dogs in the house at night.’
She sighed. ‘I understand.’
He paused, but she didn’t say more. ‘Is it Frances you’re worried about?’
She nodded then looked up at him. ‘Can I say something?’
‘Of course.’ He braced, wondering what she wanted to say and whether it was going to be on a personal level. He hoped to God it was about Frances, and wasn’t going to be about Solomon.
‘Take it easy on Mr and Mrs Baxter, Jack. They’re not bad people; they’re probably sad and sorry people about now. They’ve basically lost all three sons.’
‘Will do.’ He pushed away disappointment that she wasn’t going to tell him about Frances. ‘So will you get those dogs in the house at night?’
She shook her head, not in denial but more as though she was in a quandary. ‘I have to tease Frances into liking them first.’
‘How are you going to do that?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask Billy Baxter over. He’s good with animals, believe it or not. Although Solomon says he doesn’t fully realise how much yet.’
‘Why Billy?’
‘Solomon said Frances was talking to him on the street just now.’
Solomon. Again.
She shot a look at the door behind her. ‘I’d better go find her.’
‘Jax.’
She halted, her face set with a determined expression but there was caution in her eyes. ‘No questions,’ she said.
She meant about Frances. ‘Don’t you think it natural I’d want to know?’
She considered this. ‘I haven’t got my head around having my daughter live with me yet. I still have so much to do. We’re not getting on; you were right about that. I haven’t seen her for …’ She swallowed. ‘We have a lot of getting-to-know-each-other stuff to sort out.’
‘I told you I’d help you. How about I pop over when I’m off duty? I like dogs—most of them like me. I could start up a conversation with her.’
‘To pry?’
He pulled his shoulders back, a rush of frustration filling him. ‘No.’ Is that what she thought he’d do? Ask the girl outright why she was here and what had happened to her father? ‘Do you really think I’d do that?’
‘I don’t know what you’ll do. I don’t know why you’re here.’
‘I told you why I was here.’
‘So why don’t I believe you?’
Because she was too bloody smart, but what could he say? He couldn’t tell her why he was here until all this was over. ‘From what I’ve seen of Frances so far, I get the impression she’s hurting and she’s hiding. I understand about all that stuff.’
This got a little interest from her.
He was more than prepared to tell her about his own childhood and what it had done to him—if she wanted to hear it. ‘Look, I didn’t have the best upbringing. In fact, I didn’t have any upbringing until I was about ten. I saw things going on in your daughter’s head. Things I don’t know about, but that I understand. She is hurting.’ So was Jax. ‘If you want my opinion, at this stage I’d say she’ll do well making new acquaintances with others first—before she feels easy with you.’
She pushed out a laugh. ‘Solomon said more or less the same thing.’
Solomon. Jesus, the man was pissing him off. ‘Is that why he kissed you?’
She threw a look to the barred window, where the blind was still down but the image of Solomon watching the bull was fairly clear.
‘He’s a friend,’ she said, looking back at Jack.
‘Is that all?’
‘Is this the cop asking, or the man?’
‘The man.’ He released the tightness in his expression and spoke softly. ‘We had something, you and me.’
She blew out a breath.
‘We did,’ he persisted.
She shook her head.
‘You and Solomon,’ he said. ‘Have you got a thing going on?’
‘No!’
He pushed on. ‘I admit that when I saw him kiss you, I—’
‘It was a kiss on the cheek!’
‘It was a long, drawn-out kiss on your cheek. I got jealous.’ Instantly. It had fired through him like the blast from a grenade launcher.
She didn’t answer, but she kept her eyes on his. Something was going on in her head but he didn’t know if it was about Solomon or Frances.
A deep compassion for her drowned the frustration about Solomon and concern took over. She was obviously out of her depth with her daughter, and she hated being unable to control herself or her situation. She was used to being the capable one, sorting people’s lives if they wanted or needed it. ‘Isabelle,’ he said softly, using the name he often used in his head. ‘We need to talk about the night I took you to dinner and you disappeared.’
She came out of her reverie with a single blink. ‘You were the one to disappear and we don’t need to talk about that night.’
‘Isabelle—’
‘Jax.’
‘Jax—I can explain.’ He took a small step forwards. She didn’t move. She looked like she was glued to the spot. ‘I was away from you longer than I’d expected and there was a reason for it.’
‘Jack. If I hadn’t left nearly thirty minutes after you took that telephone call, I’d still be sitting there!’
‘I was on a case.’
‘And I was having a really nice time, until you took …’
‘Took what? The call?’ He frowned his concern, understanding suddenly. It was as he’d thought. ‘Did you see me?’ He hoped not, but if she had he couldn’t blame her for shunning him. ‘Is that why you left? Did you come outside to look for me?’ Did you see me with my arms around another woman?
‘None of it matters, Jack.’
‘It does.’
‘I have to find Frances.’ She turned and left the office.
Jack drew himself up. It did matter. It was the entire matter. But what could he say that she’d find believable? That it was a life or death situation? That he hadn’t wanted her drawn into it, because the woman he’d had his arms around had a homebuilt pistol in her shoulder bag and wouldn’t have been afraid to use it? On Jack, or his date.