I’d just lifted Gaby’s documents onto the passenger seat when the crackle of gravel under rubber announced the arrival of another vehicle. I looked up in time to see Cole pull alongside. He wound down his window and leaned out with his elbow over the side. He had a strange expression on his face.
‘Sam,’ he said, his usual spartan salutation.
‘Hi Cole.’ I tugged the bottom of my T-shirt down over the top of my jeans. ‘I’m just borrowing Lockie’s truck for a while, until I get a work one back again.’ Why did I always feel the need to explain myself?
He looked at the pile of papers and folders I’d arranged on the seat. ‘What’s all that for?’ he asked.
‘Just some of Gaby’s things. Lockie said I could take them to have a look through, see if I can find some new leads on the case. There haven’t been many so far.’
He looked at me for several moments, and I could feel the heat gradually work its way up my face. ‘Should you be doing that?’ he asked. It was a perfectly valid question, but I couldn’t help but feel chastised.
‘Officially, no, but unofficially I think I’m more in a position of trust with Lockie and the locals than any of the flash detectives they’ve brought into town. I might find some scrap of significant information where they wouldn’t – local knowledge and all. Anyway, if they thought it was of any consequence, I’m sure they would have taken it all away for examination by now.’
My, how I jumped on the defensive, and I felt damned annoyed with myself for it. I didn’t have to justify myself to Cole. Lockie was the one who counted.
‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Good luck, then.’
‘Yeah, thanks, Cole.’
I shut the door and slunk around to the driver’s side, face still aglow. Bugger it. Why should I feel like the criminal? I could be a stupid cow sometimes.