Fenced-In Felix

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Fenced-In Felix Page 14

by Cheyenne Blue


  “Lunch?” I asked her. “My shout.”

  In answer, she grinned, grabbed her bag and hollered to her assistant that she was off for at least a couple of hours.

  Narelle loved her beer, and she also loved the chicken parmigiana that the Commercial did, so there was no point asking her where she wanted to go. There was little choice anyway in a town the size of Worrindi.

  There was no sign of Josie behind the bar when we walked in, and I was quietly relieved. I wasn’t avoiding her, not exactly, but I didn’t particularly want to see her yet. Not until I’d had a chance to scan Flame’s microchip.

  We ordered and sat at one of the high tables by the window, where we could see the street. The food arrived quickly.

  “Hear you’ve been busy.” Narelle dipped a chip into the ketchup and ate with her fingers. “I tell anyone who asks where they can camp to go to Jayboro. Nice to know some of them do.”

  “Quite a few.” I cut a piece of battered fish and put it in my mouth. It was scalding hot, and rather than spit it out again, I took a long draught of beer while Narelle laughed.

  “Some of them come back through town after they’ve stayed with you. I always ask how they enjoyed their stay. Figured you’d like the feedback.”

  I nodded. The roof of my mouth was already blistering from the fish.

  “They love the peace. Love the cabins. They think your dinner packs are overpriced—”

  I snorted. “They should try grocery shopping here and see what it costs. And the fuel and my time—”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. I’d love to have city prices. Most of them enjoyed the horse riding, although there was one miserable old bugger who complained about the horse he was given. It sounded like you’d put him on Ben, from what he said.”

  “Extremely large bloke?”

  Narelle nodded.

  “I remember him. He must have weighed close to 150 kilos. Ben was the only one up to the weight. He said he’d ridden before, so I thought he’d be okay. He could barely control Ben, so I cut the ride short and gave him half his money back.”

  “You’re too good to people.”

  “That’s the hospitality industry. You have to take what walks in the door.”

  Narelle cut a huge chunk of parmie and chewed for a moment. “I also hear you’ve started doing evening campfires. A couple of people said they loved them.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I heard too that your partner is great at making people feel at ease.” Narelle nailed me with her gaze. “Care to tell me who they’re talking about? They definitely said ‘partner’. Do they mean business partner? Or partner partner?”

  I glanced around the bar to make sure Josie hadn’t bobbed up behind the counter.

  “I think they mean Josie, the barmaid here.”

  “Josie? Josie! I didn’t know—”

  “Sshh.”

  “She’s in the closet?”

  “No. I just think she’s rather private about her life.”

  “Fair enough. I’d probably be rather private about mine if I had the choice.” She drained the last of her beer. “Do you want another?”

  “Thanks. Light beer, please.”

  “That’s what I’m drinking. I have to at least pretend to work this afternoon. I can’t just fall asleep under the counter.”

  Narelle returned with the beers and sat back down. “So, as you have no secrets from me—”

  “Well, only small ones.”

  “Small ones are allowed. But as you have no major secrets from me, are you going to tell me about you and Josie?”

  I was silent. I’d just lied to my oldest friend. Because I did have a major secret I was keeping from her, the possibility I was harbouring a stolen racehorse. That would have to stay a secret for a little longer, at least until I’d had a chance to check Flame’s microchip. And after that, one way or another, I’d know.

  “Felix?” Narelle leant across the table and poked my chest. “You in there?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I was miles away for a second.”

  “Thinking about the big secrets you’re keeping from me?”

  “Now that you mention it…” I played it for a joke, knowing that Narelle would see through any serious denial.

  “Tell me about Josie,” she prompted. “You owe me the gossip. Nothing happens in Worrindi. Nothing more exciting than Pat’s bullocks breaking through the fence and running down the main street. And that happens too often to be classed as major excitement.”

  “I don’t have much to tell you, Els. We’re attracted to each other—that I know—but we’re not really girlfriends. Not officially. And it’s not exactly straightforward.”

  “Because she’s a temporary worker living in the pub?”

  Narelle’s voice had crept up in volume, and it didn’t feel right to be discussing Josie while we were in her workplace. “Sshh, keep your voice down a bit. Yeah, that’s part of it, falling for someone who’ll probably be gone to Tibooburra or Tumbarumba or Thargomindah when she gets bored with Worrindi.”

  “And that would bother you? You’re not up for just a fling?”

  “I know it’s never stopped me in the past. But maybe I’m getting old and staid—”

  A disbelieving snort from Narelle.

  “—or, I dunno, maybe I am looking to settle down. I just know I’m not rushing into a fling. Indeed, I haven’t. Yet.”

  “If it helps your thought processes, I hear Josie’s been asking around town if anyone has any small houses or granny flats to rent. And I know Madge and Chris love her and would be delighted if she stayed on. Madge said it would be nice not to train up a new backpacker every three months and go through the endless process of them having a fling with someone unsuitable and then leaving when they find they can’t avoid them. So maybe she’s not as transient as you think.”

  “She didn’t say.”

  Narelle grasped my hand. “You never know what will happen.”

  She was correct there. You never do know.

  Back at Jayboro, I took the microchip reader and, following Narelle’s instructions, I passed it over Flame’s neck. Sure enough, there was a chip. I took the reading, and went back to my computer. Using the login that Narelle had given me, under pain of death to delete when I was done, I accessed the online database.

  The microchip implanted in Flame’s neck was registered as belonging to Fiery Lights.

  I rubbed my eyes and peered at the screen again, in case the information had somehow changed. Fiery Lights. Chestnut mare. Five years. Registered owners listed as a Sydney syndicate. The name of the training yard from where she was stolen.

  I sat back in my seat. This was getting complicated. I’d been pretty convinced the two horses were one and the same. But Flame’s heart condition—if that’s what it was—had made me doubt. And now there was this information—what should be irrefutable evidence that Flame and Fiery Lights were one. But how could a racehorse that had won the Jackson Plate only a couple of months ago have such a chronic condition? That didn’t add up at all.

  It was all too hard, so I did what any sane person would do in the circumstances: I put it out of my head and went to clean the amenities block.

  CHAPTER 15

  Josie returned a couple of days later. I’d spent the days in between working: I saw to the cabins, maintained the campground, and tended to the horses; the endless round of work that was my life.

  I took Flame out once more and, again, rode her bareback. This time, I didn’t gallop but kept her at a steady trot to see how that exertion affected her. She was fine for the first few minutes, but then she started to flag and show signs of distress, so I immediately dropped back to a walk to let her recover.

  A few things had straightened out in my head over the two days, the most important being that I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. Unless Josie had some compelling information, I would go to the police.

  Josie found me repairing the fence that separated the cam
pground from the paddocks. Jetta, the little greedy guts, had pushed through it in search of greener grass. Not that there was much on either side. The rains had still to come to Jayboro, although there were reports of rain elsewhere in outback Queensland.

  “Hi,” Josie said.

  I straightened. “Hi.”

  She looked tired, as if she’d had a late night, and there were black circles under her eyes. Despite that, she looked great. Her riot of curls was tied back into a bushy ponytail, and she wore shorts rather than the usual mauve jeans.

  “I’m sure you want to talk to me about all sorts of things,” she said. “But before you do, can you come with me for a minute? I have something for you. Well, I hope it’s something you’ll want.”

  I’d nearly finished the fence. I put down the tools and followed her to her car, which was parked in the shade of the barn. She opened the door, and I saw the dog in the passenger seat. It was a golden retriever, very thin, with a reddish rather than pale coat. The dog’s eyes were worried.

  “This is Tess. She was either deliberately dumped by a tourist, or she got separated from her people. She’s been living rough around Worrindi for a couple of weeks.”

  “I’ve heard of her,” I interrupted. “Alain the vet mentioned her.”

  “That would be right. He checked to see if she had a microchip. She doesn’t, only a collar tag with her name. No phone number. She’s friendly—she’s obviously been around people a lot. Had several litters of puppies too, according to Alain, but she’s only maybe four or five. He thinks she may have been in a puppy farm, and now that she’s bred her litters, they’ve dumped her. But why dump her out here is beyond us. Maybe she had a home after the puppy farm.”

  I held out my hand to Tess, who sniffed it cautiously, then gave me a tentative lick.

  “Alain has given her shots, cleared up her fleas, given her heartworm tablets, and fed her up a bit. She’s ready for a home. You mentioned a dog. I wondered if you would give her a forever home.”

  Tess looked at me, and I looked at Tess. Already, my heart was melting towards her. Puppy farms often dumped their animals when they no longer served their purpose—just like the racing industry.

  “A retriever, though? It’s not the ideal dog for out here. They’re massive absconders, and there’s a lot of stock around. She’d be shot by a farmer if she escaped, or she’d eat poison bait—there’s so many wild dogs doing damage that the baiting program is in full swing.”

  “I don’t think she’ll run off.” Josie petted Tess’s head, and the dog pressed into her hand. “She’s been hanging around the back of the pub, staying as close as she can to people. Alain said she had bite marks on her hindquarters that got infected. Chances are she’s already learnt the hard way about the wild dogs. She dug herself a couple of wallows in the dust at the back of the pub and she slept there. But she made them in a corner where there was a fence on two sides to reduce the chance of her being attacked.”

  I crouched by the side of the car so that I was eye level with Tess. “Hello, girl. You’ve had a hard life so far. Would you like to live with me, or do you want a comfortable house in town?”

  It was as if she understood me. She stood on the seat and gave a tentative wag of her tail. Then she jumped down and came and sat next to me. My hand automatically reached down to rest on her head. I’d missed the comfort and friendship of a dog.

  Josie watched her. “Looks like she’s made up her mind.”

  I walked a couple of paces from Tess, just to see what she’d do. She stood, wagged her tail once, and moved over again to sit beside me.

  I always was a sucker for a hard-luck tale. Tess deserved a home and someone to love her. “She can stay, but on the proviso that she’s okay with horses and strangers. I can’t have a dog that’s difficult with new faces. That wouldn’t go down well.”

  Tess gazed up at me as if she were listening.

  “And I’m serious about the escaping thing. If she’s a wanderer, that won’t work. I can’t be worrying whether she’s out harassing stock or eating poison bait. If she’s that sort of dog, she’ll be better off in town where someone can keep an eye on her.”

  “I really don’t think she would. She seems to know she’s safer around people. She barely left the rear of the pub the past week. Then Alain came and got her, and she’s been at the vet’s ever since.” Josie hesitated. “Felix, I know this is not what you expected, and you’re probably still angry with me about Flame. But honestly, I saw Tess, and I thought you were made for each other. I’m not doing this to win you around. I hope you believe that.”

  I did. The raw appeal in Josie’s voice was compelling. And Tess obviously needed a home. Josie hadn’t conjured her out of thin air.

  “Thank you. She’s a sweetie. I hope she’s fine here. But Josie, this won’t change anything about Flame. You have to let me say what I need to say.”

  “I understand. I didn’t expect it to. I’ve been thinking too.”

  “We need to talk, but I’ll have to finish the fence I was working on first. Come up to the house in half an hour and I’ll put the kettle on.”

  There was a moment of wide-eyed disbelief, as if she hadn’t expected me to be civil, and then she nodded and walked off. Tess watched her leave and took a small step after her. I didn’t say anything, just started walking back to the fence repairs. Tess looked at me and then came after me, to lean against my side, right where my hand would find the top of her head.

  “Looks like it’s you and me, Tess.”

  The repairs didn’t take long. I went back to the house and put the kettle on. Tess had followed me in, and she curled up in a corner of the kitchen, her back to the wall. She watched me with cautious eyes. I would pay attention to Tess later. Right now, I had to talk to Josie. She appeared a few minutes later.

  “Can I come in?”

  I gestured to the kitchen table where I’d put the mugs of tea.

  She sat and picked one up.

  “I’ve been doing some research.” I dunked my teabag up and down in my mug. “But before I tell you what I’ve learnt, why don’t you tell me how you came by Flame?”

  She was silent for a few moments, then she looked across at me. “It’s not a pretty story.”

  “I still want to hear it.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. Took a sip of her tea. It was still scalding and must have burnt her mouth.

  “About six months ago, I was working, cleaning motel rooms in Longreach.”

  I nodded. The town was a centre for outback Queensland, maybe five hours from Jayboro.

  “There was a bloke staying there. He must have been in the same room for over a week. At first, he put the Do Not Disturb sign up, and of course, I respected that. Then he switched the sign to tell me to clean his room. So I went in. You know the drill: cart full of clean sheets, those little sachets of shampoo and tiny bars of soap that are never enough. He was in his room still, watching TV. That wasn’t a problem. He was harmless. We weren’t supposed to go into a room if the customer was there, but really, it was up to us.

  “Over the next few days, I’d clean his room, and he’d always be there, watching daytime soaps. We got to chatting. Somehow—I’m not exactly sure how—I mentioned that I’d owned horses in the past and that I missed riding. Barney—at least that’s what he said his name was—said that he had a horse too. We talked a bit about riding. He wasn’t bullshitting. He obviously knew his stuff.

  “After a few days, he said he needed to find somewhere quiet to agist his horse for a few months. He said Flame was down in South Australia, but he wanted to bring her to Queensland and place her somewhere. Then when he took up his new job—something in the Isa—he would come and get her.”

  She paused and took another mouthful of her tea. Outside, I heard magpies gargling their song, and somewhere there was the sound of an engine revving. I hoped it wasn’t a new guest.

  “He offered me money,” Josie continued. “Quite a lo
t of money. Certainly more than it would cost to agist a horse. Of course, I guessed it was dodgy. I didn’t challenge him on that. When you move around a lot, do the lower paid jobs, you learn to overlook a lot of things.” She looked into her mug of tea as if she could drown all the uncertainty and wrong decisions in its depths. “I said I was moving to Worrindi—by then, I’d already got the job at the Commercial. Barney said that was fine. Closer to the Isa, he said. He asked me to keep a lookout for a place for Flame.”

  My hand shook, and I put my mug down on the table before it spilled. If I’d wanted proof that Josie had an ulterior motive, she’d just provided it. Stupid me had thought she’d liked me. Wanted to spend time with me. I’d just been a convenient place to park a horse. A stolen horse. Everything Josie told me pointed to that.

  “Go on,” I said, and my voice was hard and flat.

  “I’d been in Worrindi for a couple of weeks, and had pretty much forgotten about Barney. He hadn’t contacted me again, and I figured he hadn’t been serious. It had sounded too good to be true. But then he called me—we’d exchanged mobile numbers in Longreach. He asked if I was in Worrindi, asked if I’d found anywhere for Flame. By then, I’d already met you and knew you kept horses.”

  “And you thought poor Felix needs the money. She won’t ask too many questions.”

  “I don’t expect you to believe me, but it wasn’t like that.”

  I let it pass. I needed to find out about Flame. Now wasn’t the time for wounded pride.

  “I found I liked Jayboro. I liked coming here. And yes, it was quiet enough that it was exactly the sort of place that he wanted me to put Flame. So I told him I’d take her. He paid me three months’ agistment via Paypal. It was a lot of money, Felix. More than I could expect to earn working bar at the Commercial in the same amount of time. Once I saw the money, I stopped thinking about what could be wrong. I know, that’s no excuse, but it’s the truth. What is a tiny amount of money for some people is a fortune for me. From what you’ve told me, you’ve never worked a minimum wage job. You’ve always had your protected life here on Jayboro.” Her lips twisted. “I don’t begrudge you that—how could I? But equally, I have to look after myself. And placing Flame on agistment was a big boost.”

 

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