Alarm bells rang in Baxter’s head.
‘And your name, sir?’ Cross asked, his blue eyes cold and hard.
‘Greg Baxter.’
Cross took out a notepad and pen, writing it down. ‘Well, Mr Baxter, you can either explain yourself here or down at the station.’
Baxter called out to Liz, who was sitting in the car with the door open. ‘Excuse me, Mrs Drew? This officer needs to talk to both of us.’
‘No worries,’ Liz called back, and gestured for the two men to walk over.
She gave Cross a wary half-smile as he nodded a curt greeting and asked for her statement. Once she’d laid out the facts, an amused twinkle appeared in her good eye. ‘This man also kicked Mr Campanelli in the backside, Sergeant.’
‘I see,’ Cross said, staring at Baxter with respect, but also a challenge. ‘Do you have anything to add?’
When Baxter shook his head, Cross asked how he could be contacted. Baxter provided his phone number and said, ‘I’m out at the old Carpenter place, working away at a novel, so you can reach me there pretty much anytime.’
If Cross was on the take, the whole drug ring would now be aware of exactly the kind of man who’d bought their coveted property. They weren’t likely to approach Baxter now—well, not in a friendly way.
•
As he pulled his car out of the courtyard, Baxter smiled across at Liz Drew. ‘Well, now, the fat is well and truly in the fire. And by the way, I’m Greg Baxter.’
‘Liz Drew,’ she said. ‘But you seem to know that already.’
‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘What have you heard, Mr Baxter?’
‘Greg, please. What have I heard?’ He didn’t want to bring up Jack. ‘Mostly that you’re a great-looking woman. But they haven’t done you justice.’
She smiled and winced, pressing the half-melted ice against her face.
They were driving down Moondilla’s main street. ‘Where do I take you?’ Baxter asked, and she gave him some directions.
‘It really is very sweet of you to go to this bother,’ she added.
‘It’s no bother. None at all.’
‘I meant intervening with Jack.’
‘That was no bother either,’ Baxter said, and then couldn’t help asking, ‘How did you get mixed up with a boozy husband like that?’
‘It’s too long a story to tell now.’
He’d thought she might say that. ‘That’s fine. Ah, here we are.’ He pulled up outside a well-presented timber home.
‘Would you like to come in for lunch or a cup of coffee?’ Liz asked.
‘No thanks, I’ve got to get back to my writing.’ The truth was, he didn’t feel comfortable being alone with a married woman in her house, even though her husband was a creep. Baxter had very strict rules about that sort of thing. He also didn’t want Liz to act the hostess when she needed some peace.
‘Fair enough.’ Liz started to get out of the car, then turned back to him. She seemed flustered. ‘Look, again, thanks very much for taking my part. Nobody in town has ever opposed Jack.’ She paused, frowning. ‘Well, that’s not exactly true. Jack and Campanelli had a big fight once.’
‘What about?’
‘Me. Campanelli’s always been crooked on me marrying Jack. He wanted me when I was with the country and western troupe—he came to all of our shows.’
Baxter raised a querying eyebrow.
‘I used to sing,’ she explained, a sad and faraway look in her eyes that reminded him of Julie. ‘Anyway, Campanelli wouldn’t have married me. He wanted me for . . . well, other reasons.’ She seemed very uncomfortable.
‘You don’t have to explain anything.’
‘I feel I do,’ she said.
‘Not today, anyway. You should rest.’ Baxter grinned reassuringly. ‘The other thing is, I’ve got a big dog I left at home, Chief. He’ll be getting worried about me.’
Liz laughed. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard that excuse. He must be some dog. What kind is he?’
‘A German Shepherd bred from imported stock.’
‘Ah, I love that breed. We had mostly kelpie and cattle dog cross at home in Queensland. We needed them for the herd.’
It sounded like she was an Outback girl, raised on a station. ‘I should think a cattle dog would be a very handy acquisition. Keep the likes of Campanelli in line,’ Baxter said and smiled.
Liz smiled too. ‘I’m very pleased to have met you, Greg. In fact, I’d say you’re the most interesting man I’ve ever met in Moondilla. And that includes my husband.’
‘Thanks,’ Baxter said, ‘but I’m also sorry to hear that.’
‘Well.’ Liz sighed. ‘Jack’s not bad when he’s not drinking. He helps keep the place tidy and all. The problem is, it’s not too often these days that he isn’t drinking.’ She dabbed at her sore face, checking the damage in the car mirror. ‘I’d be much happier if he just went off and fished. He’s got a little boat and he’s a good mechanic. Maybe not as good as Steve Lewis, but good enough. He can fix just about anything, from lawnmowers to council bulldozers. Why he’s on the grog beats me. But that’s men for you.’
Baxter shook his head firmly. ‘I don’t know the first thing about engines, but I don’t drink. When you’re ranked as high as I am in martial arts, you’re supposed to lead an exemplary life. That’s according to Eastern teaching. Can’t say I do it perfectly—it’s hard in Western society—but I do my best. No smoking, no drinking and no junk food.’
Liz grinned as she got out of the car. ‘You sound too good to be true.’