Scott strode over and hunkered down, guiding the sensor until it faced hers. She nodded, then walked back a little ways to lay out the cable. The sensor would be hooked up to a solar panel. If anything interrupted the signal, her laptop would ping back at the house. If their internet connectivity was working. It could be a bit patchy, sometimes, but she hoped it would be sufficient to catch the alert of any intruders.
‘Do you think this is necessary?’ Scott enquired gently.
‘The new padlock is a start,’ she said, gesturing to the big, shiny lock and thick chain that now adorned the gate, ‘but only if nobody uses bolt cutters. If they drive through, though, we’ll know.’
‘Yeah, but…isn’t this overkill?’
She stood, panting, her hands on her hips. ‘I got knocked out in the middle of the night, Scott. On our property. Three people were killed in an illegal meth-lab explosion. You tell me. Do you think it’s overkill?’
Scott’s features stilled. ‘Meth lab?’
She nodded. ‘Yep. That’s what made Dick blow, apparently.’ She closed her eyes. ‘God, that sounded normal inside my head. That’s what made Dick explo—forget it. That’s why Brayden died.’
She opened her eyes in time to see Scott glance up and down the road. They’d had one car pass since they’d started working on the gate. Damn it, now she’d made him anxious.
‘Look, I know it’s a bit to process, but I’m working on sorting it out. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.’
She started gathering the tools, and Scott bent down to pick up the hammer. She’d placed a number of sensors along the track. A roo or a rabbit, maybe even a possum, could set off one of the sensors, but she figured if all of them went off, she could be sure it was more likely to be an intruder and not a kangaroo deciding to follow a track instead of jumping across it. She was thinking of getting some cameras set up, but she still had to figure out how to find the money for them, and how to get them to run. That was going to take a little more research, which all needed to be done on their slow and patchy internet connection.
‘What does Tom think?’ Scott asked quietly.
‘He doesn’t know,’ she said, then turned to look at him. ‘And I don’t want him to know. Not yet. I don’t want to get him worried. Okay?’
Scott stepped toward her. ‘Don’t worry, Jac. You can trust me.’ He stood directly in front of her, eyeing her closely. ‘Is that why Hudson keeps coming out?’
She nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s investigating Brayden’s death, and the meth lab.’
Scott dipped his head. ‘I see.’ He rubbed his lip, then lifted his head to meet her gaze. ‘You know you can talk to me, about anything, right?’
Jac’s eyebrow rose. This seemed like another version of a previous conversation with Mac. ‘Uh, yeah, I know.’
‘I want to help, Jac.’
She smiled. ‘Thanks, Scott.’
He tucked a hair behind her ear, and she tried to stand still for it. ‘I want to help, because I like you, Jac.’
Jac blinked. O-kay. ‘Uh, I like you, too, Scott. I think we work well together.’
‘I think we could do lots of things well, together,’ he murmured, and leaned forward to kiss her.
Jac’s eyes rounded as his lips pressed against hers, and for a moment she hesitated, waiting for that same heat, that same zing of attraction she’d felt with Mac. But all she felt was a guy’s lips on hers. She raised her hands to press against his chest as she leaned back. ‘Whoa, there, cowboy.’
He lifted his head, and his expression smoothed so quickly she almost missed his frustration. ‘I’m sorry, I just—I like you, Jac.’
She swallowed. ‘Uh, I … like you, too.’ She frowned. ‘I’m just not sure how much.’
Scott’s smiled. ‘I surprised you.’
She nodded. ‘Uh, yeah, you did. I really wasn’t expecting that.’
Again. Two guys kissing her out of the blue on the one day. Had she stepped into some alternate universe?
He fingered the collar of her shirt. ‘Was it a good surprise?’ He grinned hopefully.
Uh… ‘I’m still trying to figure that out,’ she said truthfully, then bit her lip when she realised that probably wasn’t what he was hoping to hear.
His lips twisted, before he forced a chuckle. ‘Well, I guess I’ll have to work on it, then.’
‘Uh…’ She wasn’t sure how to react to that.
He lifted the hammer. ‘Come on, let’s head back. I think we’ve finished for the day.’
She nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said slowly.
She sat in the cab quietly for the ride back to the house, stunned. What the hell was going on? First Mac, with his infuriating comments and his—oh, my god, so hot kiss—and now Scott, a man she respected and considered a close friend, and his not-as-hot kiss. She felt like she’d stepped down into a rabbit hole and everything was being turned about on its head.
She slid a glance in Scott’s direction as he turned into the yard, and he caught her gaze. Winked. She smiled tentatively, then jumped out as he slid the gears into park.
She thought she’d been confused earlier, after Mac’s kiss. She chewed her lip as she strode across to the veranda and toed off her boots before stepping over the third plank and entering through the back door. That kiss had been … a surprise. It had shaken her to her core. Mac was like … what? Another big brother? She snorted as she entered her bedroom. No. Not after that kiss. There was no way she could look at him in that light again. He’d been all heat and muscle and sexy lips. God, no wonder he was so popular with the ladies. She stopped in front of her dresser and eyed her reflection in the rectangular mirror that hung on the wall behind it. Her face was red. She fanned herself. Damn, even thinking about it was getting her hot and bothered.
And he still thought she was guilty of running drugs, of setting up a lab that had killed people. She eyed the photos on her mirror, and Kelsey’s image caught and held her attention. Kelsey was sixteen when she died. Memories of that day still haunted her, and she’d sworn—after seeing what they’d done to her friend—that she would never, ever do drugs.
And Mac thought she was involved with this drug thing. The photo of her friend blurred, and Jac brushed away the tears falling down her face. Her gaze fell on a photo of Brayden, and the tears started falling faster.
‘Never again,’ she murmured.
‘Jacinta, dinner will be on the table in ten,’ Marion called down the hallway.
She blinked, and wiped at the tears. ‘Okay. I just need to clean up,’ she called back. She eyed the photos on the mirror. She hated drugs, she hated what they’d done to her friends. She’d lost too much to the toxic crap. Well, she was going to put a stop to whatever the hell was going on at Bulls’ Run. These guys had no idea the trouble coming their way.
She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out. She turned back for her door, scooping up her robe as she made her way to the bathroom, her socked feet stomping resolutely across the timber floorboards. She was going to prove to Mac once and for all that she was innocent, damn it.
Mac sat down at the formal dining table, and met his father’s gaze.
‘Peas?’ Daphne Hudson offered the bowl of green peas to her son.
Mac nodded and smiled. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ Pip Hudson remarked as he speared slices of roast lamb with a fork and served them to his plate.
‘It’s Thursday night, Dad,’ Mac said calmly. ‘Family night. Why wouldn’t I be here?’
There were no guests staying at his parents’ hotel just then, but the street bar was still open for business, and the dull noise of chatter still carried through the walls. His mother took the plate of meat and offered it to Mac, who accepted it while he could. If the conversation was going to go the way he thought it would, he wanted to eat before he … couldn’t.
‘So, darling… how’s work?’ his mother asked conversationally.
‘Busy,’ he replied. ‘Long hou
rs.’ He never really talked too much about his work—with anyone. He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his mother about meth labs and drug dealers. The dark side of the town had already touched her life recently. Jac and her brother weren’t the only kids his parents had pseudo-adopted into the family. His friend Peter Hanson, and Peter’s sister, Erika, were also much loved, and Peter’s recent death had devastated his parents. Erika was currently overseas with Mac’s colleague, Hartley—a connection Mac hadn’t seen coming—and his mother missed Erika a lot. She didn’t need to know about the trouble going on with Jac, too.
‘Oh? I hope you’re getting some down time,’ she said, passing him a plate of honeyed carrots. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’
The ladle for the carrots slipped out of his hand, and clinked against his plate. He retrieved it gently. ‘Ah, no. No time, really.’
Maybe that was why he was carrying on like an unprofessional idiot by kissing Jac. He hadn’t dated a woman in months. Echo Springs wasn’t really a hub for the single ladies, but he wasn’t lying when he’d told his mother he was busy. He was so involved in this investigation, and getting acquainted with this new role of detective while Hartley was away, he hadn’t really missed going out with some feminine company.
‘I spoke with Jim Howard. He’s looking at a suspended licence.’ His father poured gravy over the food on his plate.
Here we go. Mac nodded. ‘He’s bloody lucky.’
‘Swear jar,’ Daphne Hudson said, pointing to the big jar on the mantelpiece.
Mac nodded. ‘Sorry, mum.’ He pulled a note from his wallet. He figured he’d set up a tab for the night.
‘He needs his licence, Mac. How is he supposed to drive those cars to find out what’s wrong with them? How is he supposed to drive them to test the repairs?’
Mac shrugged. ‘He’ll have to figure something out. Legally, of course,’ he said, cutting into his meat and popping it into his mouth. He loved his mother’s cooking. ‘Delicious,’ he said, and winked at her. She smiled as she began to eat her own meal.
Pip frowned. ‘He could lose his business, son.’
Mac didn’t reply immediately, but chewed as fast as polite table manners would allow before eating some more. Tramping around Bulls’ Run had made him hungry.
Maybe kissing Jac, too. But no amount of his mother’s roast lamb would satisfy his desire for a woman he couldn’t, shouldn’t have.
‘Did you hear me, Macarthur?’
Mac nodded as he took a swig from the glass of beer at the side of his plate to wash his food down. His father was using his full name. He must be pissed off.
‘I heard. Did Jim mention why his licence was suspended?’ He scooped up a forkful of peas and met his mother’s eyes as put them in his mouth. She was watching him with a perplexed frown on her face. Probably wondering when eating went out the window and inhaling food became a trend.
‘He was a little over the limit,’ Pip said, shrugging. ‘He made a mistake, didn’t realise that last beer would put him over.’
Mac coughed and had to hit his chest to get the food past his disbelief. He winced. ‘Uh, Dad, he drove, and he was over the limit. He nearly hit Gwen Sinclair.’
‘That woman would have done more damage to the car than he could do to her,’ Pip said, pointing at Mac with his fork.
‘Pip,’ his mum chided.
‘That woman is the size of a—’
‘Pip,’ Daphne admonished, her tone severe. His dad dipped his gaze to his plate.
‘Well, she is,’ he muttered.
‘And she’s got just as much right to walk along a street without being hit by a drunk driver as anyone else,’ Mac said, before scoffing some roast potato. Oh, man. His mum made the best roast potatoes.
‘Drunk,’ Pip muttered. ‘Jim can hold his bloody liquor. It was just that last beer…’
‘Pip,’ his mother chided.
His father sighed. ‘I know, swear jar. I’ll pay it later.’
Mac sighed. ‘Jim blew 0.32. That’s way more than a last beer. That’s like the last seven beers. And he drove. He was nearly involved in hitting a pedestrian. So his licence is suspended—that’s actually pretty light, all things considered.’
Daphne held up a finger in a silent request to be excused, and rose from the table to walk back into the kitchen.
‘My own son,’ Pip said, shaking his head.
‘I was doing my job,’ Mac muttered.
‘Well, maybe you should go do your job now,’ his father exclaimed. ‘Keep our streets safe, son. I can hear someone jaywalking on Main as we speak.’
‘Why does everyone expect me to just turn a blind eye when their friends break the law?’ Mac exclaimed right back.
‘Some people might like to know you have their backs,’ his father retorted.
‘Did you ever consider that my upholding the law is me having your backs?’ Mac glared at his dad.
‘I think we need some space,’ Pip said, his chin jutting forward.
‘So do I,’ Mac said, jabbing some more meat with his fork, and then popping it into his mouth as he rose from the table. He looked at his plate. Three-quarters eaten. Well, at least he ate.
He walked into the kitchen and his mum bustled over to him with a Tupperware container.
‘Dessert. Apple and rhubarb crumble with custard.’ She handed it to him.
He smiled. ‘Thanks, Mum. Dinner was great.’
‘Don’t worry about your father. He needs to get things off his chest, but he’ll calm down.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Mac said ruefully. His mother hesitated.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘I bumped into Sue Terrance at the supermarket,’ she said quietly. ‘That poor woman. She doesn’t deserve any of the grief the men in her family have dished out to her. Hayden sounds like he’s trying to make a good go of it, though.’
He nodded, but remained noncommittal. He’d heard Terrance was trying to start up a youth program, and Leila was helping him. It was too early to call the man an angel, though, as far as he was concerned.
His mother looked beyond him to the dining room, then met his gaze again. ‘She mentioned that Brayden might have been involved with drugs—is that right?’
He sighed. ‘Mum, I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation…’
She lifted her chin. ‘Well, I want you to check on Jacinta. I worry about her out there, so far out of town, especially with what’s been going on. I promised her mother we’d look out for her.’
Mac nodded. He remembered June Buchanan, and the close friendship the two women shared. After June’s death, Daphne Hudson had shopped with Jac for her graduation outfit, had attended mother-daughter events on June’s behalf, and had visited her regularly on the farm until Jac was old enough to drive into town on her own.
‘You may need to prepare yourself, though, Mum. I can’t say much, but it’s not looking good for Jacinta with all this business going on at Bulls’ Run.’
Daphne’s eyebrows rose. ‘Jac? And drugs? Our Jac?’ She snorted, then shook her head. ‘No, not our Jac.’
‘Mum, we don’t know anything for sure—’
‘Well, I know this for sure. That girl would rather burn that property to ash than get involved with drugs.’
‘What makes you say that?’ he asked brusquely. Of course his mother would defend Jac. In her eyes, Jacinta Buchanan could do no wrong.
‘One of her school friends died from drugs,’ Daphne said soberly.
Mac frowned. ‘I don’t remember hearing anything about this. When did it happen?’
Daphne waved a hand. ‘Oh, you and Jamie were at school. Jacinta found her after she’d passed. It shook her up pretty bad, though, poor thing.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Mac said thoughtfully.
‘Well, I don’t suppose it’s the normal topic of conversation,’ his mother pointed out primly.
Mac smiled. ‘Yeah, I guess not.’ He leaned down and kissed her again on the cheek. ‘Thanks again,
Mum.’
‘See you next week,’ she said, patting him on the cheek. He glanced over his shoulder toward the dining room, and his mother waved her hand again. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ Mac murmured, then strode through the kitchen to the back door.
It wasn’t until he was at home, spoon in his mother’s apple and rhubarb crumble, that he thought about her words.
That girl would rather burn that property to ash than get involved with drugs.
Well, he guessed they’d have something to talk about on their drive, after all.
Chapter Nine
Jacinta looked up from the boiled egg she was about to lop the top off when she heard the knock at the back door.
‘Come in,’ her father called without looking up from his bacon and eggs.
Footsteps clomped through the back hall and Mac entered the kitchen. Jacinta’s knife went straight through the cone end of the egg, and her father frowned when the top of the egg landed on his plate. She mouthed an apology and quickly used her fork to steal it back.
‘You don’t need to knock, Mac.’ Her father indicated the other setting at the table. ‘You’re as good as family.’
Jac focused on sprinkling a little salt on her egg. Mac didn’t kiss her like family. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she tried to hide her face by sipping from her coffee mug. You weren’t supposed to have hot and sexy dreams about family.
‘Thanks, Tom. Appreciate that.’
She noticed he wore jeans today, along with a grey t-shirt that looked soft from repeated washing. How could the man look even better in jeans than he did in his work clothes? She glanced down at her own stained jeans and the well-worn denim shirt she’d appropriated from Jamie’s wardrobe before he left. Ugh.
Marion lifted the frypan off the stove and brought it over to serve Mac some bacon. ‘Do you like your eggs boiled, fried or scrambled?’
His eyebrows rose. ‘What a choice. I’ll go with fried, if that’s easy enough.’
Hope Echoes Page 9