As soon as we were out of sight, I pecked Mum on the cheek, picked up Herbert, and raced as quickly as I could through the difficult terrain. Herbert bounced along in my arms, his ears flopping with each stride, and an uncertain expression on his fluffy face.
I clutched him tight, determined to shield him from any wayward branches or my own possible fall. At least his bewilderment over his current situation prevented him from crying out. Well, that and he rather enjoyed being cuddled.
I usually enjoyed cuddling him too, but I was enjoying it less right now. My arms and the part of my chest where I held him tight was hot and wet with sweat. My bruised abdomen didn’t appreciate the exertion much either.
Ugh, it was too humid for this.
I ran as far as I could in the minutes we’d allotted—before Mum returned to camp with the worrisome news that she’d lost Herbert. I was supposedly looking for him now, but she was hoping everyone else might join us so we could find him faster. Before it got dark and he could wander onto the road or down to the stingers at the beach.
In reality, I was trying to locate a sheltered hiding place where I might recover my breath and, more importantly, stop thrashing through the scrub like an ungainly kangaroo. My limbs trembled with exertion, but I found an extra-large shrub to shelter behind. Sizable and thick enough that I might be able to creep around it without being spotted if a nomad did happen to come across my hiding place before I could allow myself to be discovered.
Herbert tried some of the shrub’s leaves but didn’t seem impressed. I pulled out a palmful of pellets from my bag and offered them to him. Those he was a lot keener on. Now I just had to make them last long enough to stop him crying out for Mum until our big distraction had served its purpose.
I plied him with pellets for a while, and briefly wished I’d chosen a spot with an ocean view instead of prickly green bush and spiky brown grass. Then I heard people calling.
“Herbert?” The voice was low and gravelly. “Come here, boy.”
I fought a snicker as I recognized Ray hollering after Herbert as if he were a well-behaved dog.
“Heeerbieeeeee,” a woman called in a much higher note. I couldn’t tell if that one was Ginger or Misti.
Boots crunched and Herbert struggled to be let down. Awkwardly holding him tight with one arm, I stuck my entire pellet-laden bag over his head. With him distracted for a short time, I checked my phone. No messages.
Come on, Etta. Hurry up.
More crunching noises sounded, getting closer. Enough that I could almost pick out individual footfalls. Should I have gone farther out? Should I try now?
No. If I could hear them, they would hear me.
Despite my resting position, my heartbeat picked up. It was like the adrenaline boost from a game of hide-and-seek, except with much higher stakes.
I wriggled the bag to get more pellets under Herbert’s searching nose and checked my phone again. Still nothing.
I sent a message to Connor.
You’re nearing my hiding spot—by the big dead tree. Can you stall?
He was sticking close to Mum, ostensibly to help her search, but really to protect her. Mum shouldn’t be a target. Kirk—if not her lack of involvement with the satchel—should make sure of that. But we weren’t taking chances. Connor was the best bodyguard among us.
I heard him raise his voice. “Did you see that? A flash of black and white! Over there.”
The nearing footsteps changed direction, and I let out a quick breath.
Unfortunately, Herbert had demolished the pellet supply without my careful rationing. I looked around for something to distract him. Offered him a piece of bark from the ground. He snatched it eagerly, but his chewing slowed when he discovered it wasn’t nearly as yummy as pellets. I offered him another piece, and he turned his head in clear refusal. Then struggled again to be put down.
Crap.
I released him, hoping his newfound freedom would keep him quiet and preoccupied for a few more minutes.
Still no message from Etta.
Herbert took a few tottering steps. One side of his nappy had come undone from our bouncy run through the rough terrain. I resisted the urge to fix it since it added a woeful, bedraggled air which suited his poor lost little goat story.
In contrast to that picture, he leaped onto a small rock and tossed his head in gleeful challenge. His tail, pulled to one side by the hanging nappy, still managed to wiggle.
“I think you must’ve been hallucinating,” someone grumbled farther up the slope.
“Goodness,” Mum said. “I hope Herbert’s all right.”
Herbert’s head shot up, and his spine stiffened in alert attention all the way down to his lopsided tail. “Maaaaa!” he called.
Double crap.
“That was him, over there!”
Crashing footsteps rushed in our direction. I used the noise they were making to dart away, doubled over—which put my face in excellent range of the prickly shrubbery.
“Wendi, call him again,” Norma ordered. “He must recognize your voice.”
Mum obliged.
Judging I’d put enough distance between us, I called out too. “Any luck, Mum? I think I heard him a minute ago.”
“Yes, we did as well.”
Herbert maaed again, and I caught a glimpse of him bounding toward Mum, nappy dragging behind him like a grubby white flag of surrender.
“Oh, darling. There you are.”
I stood up to see Mum scoop him into her arms. “Thank goodness you’re all right, you silly thing.”
He nibbled on her hair, and I wondered if I should have offered him some of mine.
My phone screen was still blank. I emerged from the bushes and joined Mum in making a fuss of Herbert. How long could we stall in our apparent relief?
Finally, I felt a buzz in my pocket. Taking care to make sure no one else could see the screen, I checked it. From Etta:
The goose has been cooked.
Since cooking a goose had no part in our plan, I hoped that meant she’d succeeded in her task. I gave Mum and Connor an uncertain nod.
Our party headed to the camp, poor Herbert getting almost no exercise after all since Mum carried him back in keeping with our ruse.
As we walked, I noticed the lengths she’d gone to for our plan. Her hair was skewed and scattered with leaves and twigs. Dirt smudged one side of her cheek, and even her pants were ripped.
Wow. Mum was seriously good at this. I didn’t know whether to be more perturbed or impressed by the revelation.
We cleared the final prickly shrubs to see Etta lounging in one of the chairs, Peanut settled at her feet. That was the excuse we’d come up with for having her stay behind. To look after Peanut. An unfamiliar dog chasing a scared goat through the scrub might frighten Herbert more. Best to leave Peanut at the campsite.
We plonked into chairs, Ray selecting a fancy one with ample padding and two cupholders.
“New chair?” I asked loudly.
Ray beamed. Something I’d last seen him do just prior to crashing his drone. “Ain’t it a beauty? Misti picked it out for me this morning.”
Misti watched him for a moment, her expression soft. “Just try not to light this one on fire, hey, love?”
“Wasn’t my fault the wind changed.”
Misti sighed. “It’s never your fault.”
“What?”
With great forbearance, she shouted, “HOW MUCH BEER CAN IT HOLD?”
Ray smiled again. “Enough to start with.”
Gerrie and Ginger leaped up a touch too abruptly. “We’ll get drinks. What will everyone have?”
Connor and I looked at each other. None of us would be ingesting anything tonight. At least nothing the nomads gave us.
Misti spoke loudly again. Loud for her husband’s ears, but maybe also to distract us from what the others were doing. “Ray lost me once, you know.”
“I damn well did not!”
She flapped a hand at him. �
�We were at a petrol station in the middle of nowhere. Ray got out to get fuel, I got out to go to the bathroom. When I returned, Ray and the motorhome were gone. Totally gone.”
Despite myself, I was drawn into the story.
“I assumed you’d gone to nap in the back,” Ray protested.
“There’s no reception out there, so I couldn’t call him. And I had no idea how long it’d take him to realize he was missing his wife. I mean, he can be awful forgetful sometimes.”
Ray’s spine was straight in indignation. “This is horseshit blown completely out of proportion. Women are so dramatic.”
“Lucky for me, a police officer pulled into the servo a minute later. I flagged him down, explained my predicament, and he helped me chase Ray down, sirens and all.”
“That gave me a right scare, that did,” Ray grumbled. “But do you hear me complaining?”
“Well, the policeman and I gave Ray a good dressing down for losing his wife. Then—”
“It wasn’t my fault! We have a perfectly good toilet in Rusty. Beats me why you got out in the first place.”
“Because I was trying to make Rusty’s septic tank last longer. You’re the one who whinges all the time about having to empty it!”
Ray seemed at a loss for a comeback to that. He folded his arms and left it at, “Humph.”
That made me realize his fancy new cupholders were still empty. “Connor, why don’t you see if Gerrie and Ginger need any help with the drinks?”
They’d been gone long enough now to make me nervous. We’d been sure the nomads would wait until we had a few drinks in us before setting whatever trap they had in place into motion. But maybe Norma had told them about our conversation. Maybe they were as suspicious of us as we were of them. And maybe they’d moved up their timeline.
Connor stood up, and Peanut, probably bored and wondering what she was doing out here on the gravel instead of at home with her mum, got up too. She stretched and wagged her tail, smacking Kirk’s knee.
He looked at her with poorly concealed distaste. The animal welfare “ethics” of their illegal smuggling operation mustn’t have come from him.
“How did you end up with a second creature in your menagerie?” he asked.
The question was pointed to Mum, but I jumped in. I wanted to keep all the nomads’ focus and suspicion on me and Connor. Not Etta, and definitely not Mum.
“We’re just dog-sitting for a friend tonight. But Peanut’s a pretty special girl. She’s in training to be a sniffer dog.”
Kirk eyed her again. “What’s she trained to sniff out?”
“That’s the coolest part. She’s the first of her kind, taught to find wildlife that people are trying to smuggle through Australian borders. Apparently when she finds something, she sits and barks.” I grinned. “Pity she isn’t trained to find goats, or she might have come in handy tonight. Except for the frightening Herbert part anyway.”
“Huh,” Misti said to fill the silence. “There you go.”
I was wondering whether to run after Connor when the three of them reappeared carting drinks. Connor’s face was impossible to read. Had he caught Gerrie and Ginger in the middle of doing something fishy?
Ray saw them and jumped up. “Guess I better make some room in my bladder for the beer.”
Misti watched him go, then leaned toward us confidingly. “That’ll take a while. He’s got prostate issues, you know. Can take him ten minutes sometimes.” She stretched and leaned back. “So enjoy the peace while you can.”
The prostate thing seemed a tad private to share with us. Then again, some folk liked to swap details of health problems like they were badges of honor, so you never knew. Was it the truth? Or was it an excuse for Ray’s extended absence—one I couldn’t send Connor after to check on under the guise of being helpful?
Feeling a growing sense of unease, I decided to put step two in action. I called Peanut over and leaned down to give her a good rubbing. “Go find,” I whispered in her ear.
Now I just had to hope she’d head toward the RVs where Etta had set things up—rather than to our car where Etta had put the remainder of the peanut butter.
Peanut trotted off, her tail wagging. I accepted a glass of red.
“Is she allowed to wander?” Misti asked in concern at the same time Kirk growled, “That dog better not piss on my caravan.”
I smiled at both of them and took a pretend sip of wine. “Oh sure, now that Herbert’s stretched his legs, it’s Peanut’s turn. But don’t worry, she’s very well-behaved and doesn’t mark like some dogs.”
Peanut veered sideways to Ginger and Gerrie’s Winnebago and sniffed intently by the door to the living area. She sat down and barked three times, her tail wiggling all the while.
“Huh, that’s strange,” I said. “That’s what she’s supposed to do when she sniffs out reptiles, birds, or eggs.”
Misti filled Ginger and Gerrie in since they’d missed my earlier explanation, and we all looked at each other a touch awkwardly.
“There’s probably a dead lizard stuck on the wheel,” Kirk said.
“Yes, that must be it,” I agreed, then went over to Peanut and slipped her a liver treat from my pocket.
Peanut took it, but her fixed stare told me she’d prefer the peanut butter.
“Sorry, girl.” I waited there, crouching in the shadow of the vehicle, until everyone else began to relax again. Then I whispered the release and go find cues.
I was settling into my chair when Peanut voiced three sharp barks again, sitting beside Misti and Ray’s motorhome this time.
Again, a wave of uncomfortable silence rolled over the group. I let it sink deeper for a few seconds before saying, “Gosh, that sure is strange, isn’t it? Poor girl must be confused, I guess.”
“Must be,” Connor agreed in a tone that suggested the opposite.
We looked at each other, knowing the nomads would mark it.
Mum and Etta said nothing as we’d planned.
Kirk finally offered, “Well, with all the miles we do, it’s no surprise there’d be some lingering roadkill scents.”
“Sure,” I said, getting to my feet. “I better give her the release cue, otherwise she’ll sit there all night.”
I did so and added the go find one again too.
Before I made it more than halfway back to my chair, Peanut barked again. She was sitting by Kirk’s caravan now.
I changed directions. “Um, maybe I’ll put her leash on again after all.”
“I reckon that’d be best,” Kirk said tightly.
I grabbed the leash, rewarded Peanut again while promising her a good tablespoon of peanut butter later, and returned to the group.
Ray was still absent.
Most of the nomads were avoiding looking at me.
I didn’t sit down. “Gee, you know, I feel really tired all of a sudden. I think we might have to call it a night.”
That got the nomads to look at me. Stare at me to be more precise. I’d been chosen to take the lead on this part of the plan—mostly because I was the worst liar among us. We didn’t want this to be convincing.
“But you just got here,” Misti protested.
“And you haven’t even tried one of my butterfly cakes,” Ginger said, hurt coloring her voice.
I looked at my shoes. “Yeah. Sorry. I guess the accidents yesterday took more from me than I realized.”
There. Let them stew on that.
Connor came over to my side, and Mum got up, playing the much more convincing role of a concerned mother. “Oh, honey, are you okay? Do you think we should go to the hospital just in case?”
“I’m fine, Mum. Only tired.”
Etta stood up too. “Well, sorry to leave you folks so soon.” She flashed them a grin. “On the bright side, you can get properly sloshed now you don’t have to share your booze.”
The nomads shared a lot of meaningful looks, but all Kirk said was, “Just so long as you come back tomorrow.”
G
inger clapped her hands as if it were decided. “I’ll save some butterfly cakes for you.”
“We’ll see,” Connor told them.
And we drove away from the campsite—in the rental car that still smelled faintly of Daintree River.
A few miles down the road, we pulled over.
Mum, Herbert, Peanut, and I were sharing the backseat. “You were great, Mum.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Maybe a little too great.”
Mum shrugged. “I haven’t lived with your father for the past thirty-six years without picking up any of his tricks.”
“I think we all did well,” Etta announced from the front.
Was she looking for recognition? I wasn’t sure I was ready to give her any. “What took you so long?”
She shot me a shrewd look, perhaps perceiving my ingratitude. “Well, I’d just finished applying peanut butter to the underside of every RV when I realized Peanut wasn’t where I left her. I’d jammed her leash under a rock so she couldn’t follow me around, but the darn dog outsmarted me by slipping her collar. She’d licked the underside of every vehicle clean by the time I caught up with her. Then we had a disagreement over who should hang onto the peanut butter jar. And since I then had to secure her and plant peanut butter inside every RV—including Kirk’s, which was locked, by the way—more minutes had passed than we’d originally allowed.”
“Ah,” I said. “You did do well, thanks.”
I petted Peanut, who was leaning into me and panting. “That reminds me. Where’d you stash the peanut butter? I promised Peanut some for her good sniffing work.”
Etta held the jar out to me but didn’t let go when I went to take it. “If you open this jar in here—whatever happens is on your head.”
Peanut was fixated on the magical treat jar.
“Got it,” I said, and Etta released her hold.
“Speaking of opening things,” Connor said dryly, “perhaps we should open the tracking app so we don’t let all the good work we just did go to waste…”
Right.
We’d been low on high-tech surveillance gear so had settled with planting a cheap, secondhand, prepaid phone inside one of their vehicles so we’d be able to follow them at a distance without being spotted.
The Killer of Oz Page 16