Hope Echoes

by Shannon Curtis

  Mac put the car into gear as she strode up the stairs to the veranda. Tom Buchanan frowned. ‘Isn’t Mac coming in for a visit?’

  ‘Nope.’

  He looked at her. ‘Are you okay?’ There was a concern in his voice, a tremor that showed his worry.

  She hugged him. ‘Yeah, I’m okay. The nurses had to keep waking me up through the night to check on the concussion. I’m just tired.’

  He hugged her back. ‘I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo. Go rest, Scott and I can take care of everything today.’

  She hid her face in his collar, battling tears and the urge to sob. It was such a relief to hear him talk about working, something she hadn’t heard, hadn’t seen from him, since he was wheeled out of the hospital, his arm a stump, and a bitter, pained expression on his face.

  ‘Thanks.’

  She took a deep breath, gave him an extra squeeze, then stepped over the third plank and walked into the house without a glance over her shoulder at the squad car slowly driving out of the yard.

  Mac closed the gate behind him, then drove back toward town. He hit the steering wheel with the flat of his palm.

  That conversation hadn’t gone the way he’d expected it. Even when faced with the facts, Jacinta hadn’t admitted guilt. He still didn’t know who had attacked her the night before. Was she protecting them? Was she so scared of the guys she was working with that she would shield them from the law? Was she ready to go to jail for them?

  Jamie would be furious. Mac felt he deserved to cop some of that fury. He’d promised his mate he’d look after his younger sister, and now look what had happened. She was working with criminals, violent men who wouldn’t think twice about killing her or her father if they didn’t get their own way.

  ‘What was she thinking?’ he muttered. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe over the years she’d done a number of favours for the Terrances until setting up a meth lab and supplying stock to Sydney seemed like an acceptable thing for her to do. A little cash on the side to keep things going…

  Mac pulled into the parking lot at the back of the police station and sat there for a moment. What was he going to do about Jacinta? She wasn’t like Jayden Terrance, a natural-born felon who manipulated those around him and betrayed them to benefit his own self-interests. Jayden had deserved everything that came his way, but Jacinta? Jacinta deserved his help.

  Mac exited the car, his mouth tightening as he walked into the station. For now, he had to figure out who else was involved in this drug operation. It wouldn’t surprise him to hear Jayden Terrance was high up the chain—but he wouldn’t be top dog. No, the guy was a sociopath, granted, but he wouldn’t be the kingpin. Mac shook his head. Maybe he could get Jacinta to turn on the men who were using her, using her farm? He just had to figure out the leverage.

  Mac walked into the muster room and nodded at Ben Fields. Ben leaned back in his chair.

  ‘Hey, how is Jac?’

  ‘Sore,’ he said shortly, then shrugged. ‘Grumpy. How is Jim?’

  Ben shuddered. ‘Still sleeping it off. What about Gwen?’

  ‘Not a scratch, fortunately. Jim missed, but only just, from what she and Gerry tell me.’

  Ben rose, and looked about the empty muster room before making his way over to Mac. ‘Hey, do you really think Jacinta is involved in what went down with Pearce and Terrance?’

  Mac eyed the younger man. ‘You know I can’t really discuss that with you…’ he said. There was a drug epidemic in Echo Springs, and so far the organisers had managed to evade the law. They’d captured two members of the gang who seemed to be running things, but apart from vaguely threatening references to ‘the Boss’, the pair had clammed up. The Sarge wanted to limit certain information getting out—they still had no idea who was involved, only that it was a decent-sized operation. He’d finally been given the green light to interview Jacinta—which he’d have to do properly, and soon.

  Ben nodded, holding his hand up. ‘Sure, no worries, it’s just—’ The constable grimaced. ‘I know you know Jacinta. I know Jacinta, too. She went to the same boarding school in North Sydney as my first girlfriend—long story,’ he said at Mac’s arched eyebrow.

  Mac knew Ben was gay; he’d gone to a Raiders football game a few weeks earlier with him and his partner, Toby.

  ‘I guess I’m trying to say—this really doesn’t sound like Jacinta.’

  Mac sighed. ‘Yeah, well, I thought that about Jayden Terrance too, until I had to arrest him.’

  Ben grimaced. ‘Jayden Terrance should be your exception, not your standard.’

  Mac shrugged as he backed toward his office. ‘And yet Jim is sleeping it off in the cells after driving under the influence, and a meth lab exploded at Bulls’ Run. I’ve learned you can never presume to truly know anyone, because sooner or later, they’ll disappoint you. I’m sure if you talk to Leila, she could tell you the same thing…’

  ‘We’ve all got a story like that, I guess,’ Ben sighed as he turned back to his desk.

  Mac unlocked the door to the detectives’ office and stepped inside. He switched on the light as he closed the door behind him, then looked at the whiteboard. It was peppered with photographs of persons of interest, diagrams and timelines. He picked up the rubber ball from his desk and bounced it against the door, staring at the information, trying to get a flash of inspiration, a fact they could follow to find out who was behind the drugs in Echo Springs. Who was dealing it?

  He bounced the ball against the door again. Constable Leila Mayne didn’t know this, but she and Hayden were under surveillance. Leila was on leave, dealing with the aftermath of Brayden’s death, but also as part of a disciplinary action after she’d confessed some of the information she’d initially withheld from them. And didn’t that just suck. Another woman he knew and respected being drawn into the web of lies that surrounded Hayden Terrance. So far he hadn’t had any hits. He did know that Hayden had visited his brother Jayden, down in Silverwater prison. He knew they’d argued, and that Hayden hadn’t had any contact with Jayden Terrance since. He also knew a phone had been confiscated, and he was currently awaiting intelligence from that phone.

  He just had to connect the dots between Jacinta and Bulls’ Run, and Jayden Terrance and the druglord he was working for.

  Back to the drawing board, as they say. He bounced the ball again, then turned back to his desk. Grimshaw’s report on the fire sat there, about two centimetres thick. The guy was nothing but thorough. Maybe, if he knew the volumes they were talking about, he could start tracking the goods… He sat down at his desk, and got to work.

  Chapter Six

  Jacinta hugged Hayden Terrance, her arms holding him tightly. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered through her tears. She stood back, wanting to avoid staining his dark suit. Brayden’s casket sat on the gurney above his grave. Sue Terrance was walking toward the hearse. Brayden’s mother refused to watch her youngest son being lowered into the dark hole.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Jac,’ Hayden murmured. His face was drawn, and lines surrounded his mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him. His younger brother’s death had aged him. Hayden shook his head. ‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, kiddo.’

  She tilted her head, her smile sad. ‘He died on my property.’ She had plenty to feel sorry for.

  ‘He died on my watch,’ he corrected her, his expression firm. ‘This isn’t on you, Jac.’ He frowned, and lifted his hand to tilt her chin a little further. She’d tried to hide the bruise under a tonne of makeup, but seeing as she rarely wore the stuff, she didn’t think she’d been that successful. ‘What the hell happened to you?’

  ‘Long story.’ She caught her lip, glancing over her shoulder. A number of people were queueing up to pay their respects. She leaned closer to him. ‘I—I need to talk to you,’ she whispered.

  Something flickered in his eyes, a knowing, and a realisation crept over her. He knew. Hayden knew something about his brother’s death, about the m
eth lab at Bulls’ Run. Her mouth opened a little. He lowered his hand, then nodded.

  ‘Yeah. Raincheck?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, patting his arm. ‘Now is so not the time.’

  Leila Mayne approached them, looking slender and stylish in her fitted black slacks and black singlet and sheer blouse. Jacinta smiled. She was so happy to see these two back together. When Hayden had dated Leila in high school, he’d seemed so happy, so relaxed. She always thought Leila was such a good influence on him. Better than Jac could be, anyway. Sure, these two had had their obstacles to overcome, but it was nice to see her childhood friend find his place with this woman.

  ‘Hi Leila,’ Jacinta said, and hugged her. Leila hugged her back gently.

  ‘We all appreciate you being here, Jac,’ Leila murmured.

  Jac smiled, tears still fresh on her face, as she left the couple and walked across the cemetery to her ute.

  A figure detached from the back of the crowd, and she frowned at Mac as he started to walk toward her. She held up her hand. ‘Not today,’ she said firmly. ‘Today is for Brayden.’

  Mac came closer. He looked so tall, so strong, in contrast to the shaken community around him. He wore a charcoal grey shirt and black trousers, and not for the first time she thought a business shirt enhanced the breadth of his shoulders, the leanness of his hips. There was an undeniable strength in the man. His green eyes were solemn in the mid-morning sunlight, his lips pressed firmly together. Those lips…

  Fine, the man was hot. And she was all sorts of desperate if she was eyeing a cop at a friend’s funeral. And this time she couldn’t blame a bump to her head. Brenda Durrant, one of the mourners, called out softly to Mac, and he lifted his hand in a casual wave. Jacinta didn’t miss the flirtatious smile, the hopeful look in the woman’s eyes, or the disappointment as Mac, oblivious, turned back to face Jacinta. Brenda’s smile tightened, but she walked back toward the cars with the rest of the mourners.

  Mac’s eyes drifted to her cheek. ‘How’s your head?’ he asked quietly.

  She hadn’t expected his expression of concern. ‘Uh, fine.’

  He lifted his hand to her chin, much like Hayden had, and yet her body reacted so differently, as though every nerve ending had switched on. Her heart skittered in her chest, and her breath hitched, before she forced herself to exhale. His hand was warm against her skin. He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, and she shivered at the contact. Something warm surged through her, something smooth and wicked that awoke at his touch. Desire.

  Heat flickered in his eyes, and then he blinked, and an impassive shutter came down over awareness in his gaze. His hand lowered. ‘We need to talk,’ he told her quietly.

  And just like that, his words killed any warmth and desire she was feeling. He needed to talk, because he thought she was a drug runner.

  ‘Not now. I’m on my way to Brayden’s wake.’ She needed to pay her respects to Sue, Hayden and Brayden’s mum. She wasn’t about to talk about the explosion, or what Mac thought was her part in it. That would be too painful, and too infuriating, to handle at the moment.

  He scanned her face, his gaze so intent, as though he was trying to peel back the layers to reveal her secrets. He reluctantly nodded. ‘Fine. We’ll talk another time.’

  She took a step, then turned back to him. ‘Don’t think I’m putting you off,’ she told him, frowning. ‘I am more than willing to talk with you, just not today.’

  ‘I understand,’ he said, glancing at the funeral party behind him. She nodded, then continued to stride across the graves.

  Hours later, Jacinta braked, then switched off the engine and stared at the dirt and patchy tufts of grass. This was where someone had hit her. She climbed out of the cab. She’d changed into jeans and a shirt as soon as she got home from the funeral, and was so happy to be out of the heels she’d worn for most of the day.

  God, the funeral. What a sad, depressing time. Sue Terrance was devastated. She shuddered when she thought of Hayden’s mum all worn and ravaged. She didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think of their loss, of Brayden’s shining smile permanently darkened.

  No, she wanted to get the bastards who’d pulled him into that situation, and who thought they could use her home as a bloody drug operation.

  And then she’d make them pay.

  Jac put her hands on her hips and walked around a bit, eyeing the ground. The sun was dipping low, the sky blazing with fiery orange and peach as the indigo of dusk crept in. She checked behind her truck, eyeing the gauge of the tracks, then walked out in front. She was pretty sure the other vehicle had been right here. She crouched down.

  There was a pattern here, one that didn’t match her tyres. She rose and put her foot next to it, trying to get an idea of the size. It had three central lines, the middle of which had a zigzag groove.

  She glanced back in the direction of the highway. She knew where they’d entered… She turned back again. ‘But where were you going?’ she mused softly. There were other mines throughout the property, but whoever was driving would be taking a circuitous route if they were heading toward one of them.

  She eyed the tracks again. They stopped where she was, and then it looked like they’d turned around. She followed them for a bit, and then halted. There was yet another set of tyre tracks. This pattern looked like more of an interrupted wave down the three centre panels.

  Two vehicles? Maybe one belonged to Scott. He’d been the one to find her and bring her in. But had he seen the other car, or had it left by the time Scott arrived?

  She frowned as she walked back to her truck, and then started to drive back toward the highway. The third gate was for organised deliveries. It wasn’t a common thoroughfare, and the gate had a lock on it, so she wanted to check it out.

  It took several minutes of bumping along the track, and she shook her head. She still couldn’t believe someone had the balls to just drive onto Bulls’ Run property, and then knock her out when she approached. Anger had her clenching the steering wheel just a little tighter. Son of a bitch. The shock of the incident was beginning to wear off, and fury was building in its place.

  She hadn’t been out this way for weeks. Months, even.

  She pulled up in front of the gate, and frowned. The chain and padlock hung between the gate and the post. She climbed out of the car and approached the gate. Everything looked normal. She placed her hands on the gate and sighed. Then how the blood hell had they—

  The chain wobbled with the tremor she’d set off in the gate when she touched it, and that’s when she saw it. She leaned down to lift the padlock. The shackle was positioned over the top of the slide, but not connected to it. Son of a bitch. The damn thing wasn’t locked.

  She squeezed the shackle into the slide until she heard the click as the mechanism engaged. She shook her head, not at all confident that it would keep her trespassers out. She got back into the truck and headed home. She was determined to make it as difficult as possible for her midnight visitors.

  She was going to need a bigger lock.

  Mac pulled up around the back of the house, and braked. Jac was talking to Scott. As she spoke, she tossed a ball into the air, hit it with a cricket bat, and her dog ran after it, pouncing on it in the dirt, only to bring it back to her feet, and she’d repeat the process. There were two vehicles parked in the yard, and Tom stood on the back veranda, watching.

  Jac turned to face Mac, and she rested the cricket bat on her shoulder as she leaned back against the bonnet of her car.

  Well, he guessed he didn’t expect her to throw confetti at his arrival. He climbed out of the car and walked up to the veranda.

  ‘Hey, Tom,’ he said, holding his left hand out.

  Tom reached out with his left hand and shook it. ‘Mac. What brings you out here again?’

  ‘I needed to have a word with Jac—about the other night,’ he said casually.

  ‘Oh, okay. Is everything alright?’

  He remembere
d Jac’s comments about her father’s stress levels, and pasted a smile on his face. ‘Just getting some more information, that’s all.’

  Tom shook his head. ‘I tell you what, I’m not happy we’re getting so many trespassers.’

  ‘Neither am I, Tom. Not happy that Jac got hurt, either,’ he said quietly.

  Tom nodded, his expression grim. ‘We need to sort this out, Mac.’

  He nodded. ‘We will.’ He just hoped Tom wouldn’t be devastated when they did. The screen door clanged behind him, and Mac peered over Tom’s shoulder. He smiled when he saw the woman who’d caused tongues to wag in town when she’d moved out to Bulls’ Run.

  ‘Marion, how are you?’

  ‘Good, Mac. I don’t suppose the old grump here offered you something to drink, did he?’

  Tom made a scoffing sound. ‘Haven’t had a chance yet, woman.’

  ‘Well, at least one of us can remember our manners. Can I get you a drink? Lemonade? A cup of tea?’

  Mac smiled as he shook his head. ‘No, I’m right, thanks. I just want to talk with Jacinta.’

  Marion’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh, really?’ Her curiosity was obvious.

  ‘About the other night,’ Jacinta said as she walked over to the bottom of the veranda steps. She turned to Scott. ‘You know what to get now?’

  Scott’s lips firmed, and he nodded. ‘Yeah. Want me to stick around?’ he said, gesturing toward Mac.

  Jac shook her head, and Mac was momentarily distracted by the movement of her ponytail. ‘Nah. I can handle him. You head on into town, and call me when you get back.’

  Scott nodded, then leaned in. Mac looked away, but not quick enough to miss his kiss on Jac’s cheek. Marion raised her eyebrows once again, and then Mac heard Scott’s truck start up, and he turned.

  Jac trotted up onto the veranda and placed the bat and ball against the side of the house, avoiding the section of warped and splitting wood. She beckoned him. ‘Come on.’