Hope Echoes

by Shannon Curtis

  Brent looked over his shoulder. ‘We had no idea he had a base this far out of Sydney.’

  ‘We’ve had an increase in overdoses, from here to Cobar and Bourke,’ Mac told him quietly. ‘We’ve also had a lot of drug-related crimes… break-ins, assaults, arson, some significant biker activity. We had what we thought was a smaller meth-lab explosion a few weeks ago … turns out it was a cover-up of an execution. Whoever was running things here didn’t want anyone setting up a rival operation. The murderer ended up dead and my colleague caught two of the other guys…’

  Brent was nodding. ‘Suspected associates of Toohey, but like Terrance, we’ve never been able to prove the connection.’

  Mac shook his head. ‘One of our own, an Echo Springs man, ended up dead as well, in a bushfire, after the bastards tried to use him as their chemist then left him to rot. Even so, we never expected to find the stuff was being made right under our noses.’

  Brent shifted to look at the area map on the wall next to the door. ‘And the property owners?’

  Mac hesitated. ‘Generally, they’re good people. Great, in fact. I’ve known them for years. The daughter now owns the property, and I really believe she’s not involved.’

  ‘But?’ Brent asked, glancing at him.

  ‘But the site is not an easy find on that property. That would require a detailed knowledge of the mines and shafts. Someone out there knows what’s going on.’ Despite being a regular visitor to the property, Hayden had needed the second site to be pointed out to him on a map.

  Brent shifted to look at the photos. Mac had had to put up shots of Jacinta and Tom Buchanan, as well as Scott Nielson and Marion Morrison.

  ‘What about the old man?’

  ‘He lost his arm in a tractor accident three years ago. The farm’s got some massive debt—but that’s not uncommon in this area. I don’t like to think he’s involved, but they need money, so it’s a possibility.’ Mac hated the fact that he had to lay it all out like that, that they had to assess the cold facts. ‘He’s got no criminal history, though, that would suggest he even has contacts.’

  ‘Financials? Any significant deposits?’

  ‘Nope. Same goes for Nielsen. No criminal history, modest bank account… He was employed by the family a little while before the accident, and has been living on-site in the station manager’s house for the last four years.’

  ‘And Ms Morrison?’

  Mac sighed. ‘She cooks a great breakfast. She puts up with Tom. She’s lived in the area for as long as I can remember, and became a widower about twenty years ago. Husband died of cancer. She was recently hired by the family as the cook and housekeeper, and moved out to the farm after the discovery of Dick.’

  Brent’s eyebrows rose, and Mac’s lips quirked when he realised how it sounded. ‘All the tunnels have names. Long story. Dick was the first lab we discovered when it blew up.’

  ‘So what made you think to look for another?’ Brent put his hands on his hips, assessing the investigation board.

  ‘Actually, Jac—Jacinta Buchanan,’ Mac amended, ‘drove that search. She was attacked one night on the property, after Dick blew—’ He shut his eyes when Brent lost his battle not to smile. ‘She invited the police onto the property to help with the search for further illegal activity.’

  Brent rubbed his face. ‘How easy is it to access this property?’

  Mac shrugged. ‘Like most of the farms here, they’ll have gates and signs, but there’s nothing that will actually stop folks from trespassing. Their home gate is always unlocked. They’ve started to beef up the security on other access points, though.’

  Brent tapped one of the pictures that had been taken of the lab found in Brandy. ‘This is big. Judging from the quantities of hydrochloric acid, red phosphorous—jeez, look at all the sodium hydroxide—this is a superlab. Toohey would have been raking it in.’ Brent glanced over at Mac. ‘He’s going to be mega-pissed it’s been shut down.’

  ‘Hopefully he gets riled up enough to make a mistake.’

  There was a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ Mac called.

  Ben Fields opened the door quickly and peered around the jamb. ‘You have a visitor out the front.’

  Mac’s eyebrows rose, and he followed Ben through to reception. An image of Jac popped up in his mind. He hadn’t had a chance to talk with her since the car ride back from Brandy. He’d stopped by each day, but she was always out … somewhere. He knew what she was doing. She was avoiding him. He sighed. He’d made her uncomfortable, and he hated that. He wanted that easy camaraderie back from when they’d toured her property. He wanted his friend back. He missed her. Sure, he was attracted to her, but he also just plain liked her. Knowing his luck, though, it would be Hayden Terrance out there. He waved a greeting to Julie Sponberg, the administrative assistant and receptionist for Echo Springs police station. He smiled when he saw his mother standing at the desk, a cling-wrapped plate in her hands.

  ‘Mum, what a nice surprise.’ He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and accepted the plate she held out to him.

  ‘I heard you’ve been busy out at Bulls’ Run, so I thought I’d drop off something for dinner.’

  He grinned as he glanced down at the plate. Chops and vegies. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘Oh, and I had a tin of lemon bars, but Ben said he’d look after them for you.’

  Mac shot Ben a dry look, and Ben casually backed away into the office. ‘That’s nice of him,’ he said loudly.

  ‘Anything for your mum, Hudson,’ came Ben’s mumbled reply. Mac assumed he was already tucking into the bars.

  ‘So, what’s happened?’ Daphne Hudson enquired as she adjusted the strap of her handbag on her shoulder.

  He gave her a look. ‘Mum, I can’t talk about it.’

  His mother frowned. ‘I swear, if I have to read it in the paper along with everyone else, I won’t be happy. Is Jacinta all right?’

  Mac looked down at the plate and smoothed over the cling wrap. ‘She’s fine.’ She was better than fine. She was funny, and feisty, and … avoiding him. He nodded. ‘Yeah, she’s … good.’

  ‘So she’s safe?’

  ‘Mum, do you think I’d be here if she wasn’t?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know, dear. You don’t talk much about your job,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Mum, I would protect her with my life,’ he assured her. He heard some radio chatter in the background, and stepped toward the main door.

  Daphne’s eyebrows rose. ‘Well, that’s a bit dramatic. Are you sure everything’s okay?’ She walked up to the door with him, and hesitated, her hand on the door pull. ‘I know you’re hurrying me out.’

  He winced. ‘Sorry, Mum. Like you said, things have gotten really busy here at the moment. I have to get back to work.’ He and Brent had to discuss the next step in tracking down Toohey and find some rock-solid evidence.

  ‘Well, I’ve got to get back to work, too. We’ve got a guest from Sydney staying with us for the next couple of days.’ Daphne folded her arms, not looking in the least bit ready to leave. She gave him a patient look, and he nodded.

  ‘Everything’s fine, Mum,’ he told her. ‘Jac’s fine, Tom’s fine—hey, did you know Marion Morrison has moved out there?’

  ‘Oh, yes, the CWA ladies haven’t stopped talking about it.’

  ‘They’re being nice, aren’t they? Marion’s a good egg.’

  ‘Of course she is, she’s exactly what Tom needs right now.’

  Mac halted. ‘Sorry? Are you ladies playing matchmaker?’

  Daphne scoffed as she opened the door to leave. ‘Don’t be silly. We’re all too busy trying to sort out your love life to worry about Marion and Tom.’

  He gaped as she closed the door and walked down the ramp toward the street.

  He shuddered at the thought of the CWA ladies plotting his social life, and turned back to the office. He had to step aside as Ben ran out, his hat in his hand. Brent was right behind him.

  ‘We just got a call about
a murder out at Bulls’ Run,’ Ben called out as they passed him. For a moment Mac felt his heart squeeze in his chest. He handed the plate to Julie and ran after them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mac stood with his hands on his hips, staring down at the body.

  ‘A cow.’ It wasn’t a question. He didn’t need to confirm that he was, indeed, looking at a bovine.

  ‘Twenty-three cows, to be exact.’ Jac stood with her arms folded, her face grim.

  Mac chewed his lip for a moment. ‘This is the murder that was called in?’

  She indicated the cow corpses. ‘Well, I don’t think they passed away from natural causes—do you? Of course it was murder.’

  He ducked his head and leaned forward, just for a moment, as his stomach muscles clenched. He sucked in a breath, trying not to puke.

  Jac frowned. ‘Are you okay, Mac?’

  ‘Fi—’ His voice came out a little pitchy, so he cleared his throat. ‘Fine,’ he said, reassured when he hit his normal baritone range. He wiped the back of his hand against his brow, then looked up at Brent and Ben. Ben grimaced at the carnage. Brent had that same look on his face as when Mac had told him the first lab’s name was Dick.

  Mac cleared his throat, then turned away from Jacinta as if he was looking at the crime scene. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

  She’s okay.

  He raised his hand to his chest, waited as his heart rate slowed from a gallop to a brisk trot. For the duration of the car ride, he’d agonised over what he might find. Tried to mentally prepare himself for the worst, all the while praying for a better outcome.

  Thank you, Jesus.

  ‘I can’t believe they did this,’ Jac said as she skirted around the dead cow. He held up a hand, halting her progress. If she came any closer, he couldn’t trust himself not to grab her, hold her tight, and never let her go. In front of a constable and a detective. While working a scene.

  She’s okay. He kept repeating the phrase, over and over in his mind, as he blindly surveyed the scene. She’s okay.

  When he’d calmed down enough to frame words in a logical order, he turned to face her. ‘Generally, we class murder for people,’ he told her, trying to keep his tone even and gentle. Calm. Like this was all completely normal, and he wasn’t putting himself back together, piece by piece. ‘Animals… not so much.’

  Jac put her hands on her hips, so delightfully frustrated, so damn adorably alive… ‘These animals were killed. Shot dead. For no good reason. Someone trespassed—again—and this time they murdered my cows.’

  He held up a finger. ‘Destroyed property,’ he corrected.

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Whatever. The point is, somebody did a very bad thing, and I want them caught.’

  Oh, bless her. The words sounded so righteously, indignantly sweet.

  ‘I want to find them,’ she said in a growl. ‘I want to hunt them down. I want to brand them with a hot poker, and then I want to hang the bastards—then put a bullet through their brain and see how they like it.’

  So … sweet. He frowned. ‘One, if you hang them, they’re already dead so shooting them after that is pretty much the definition of overkill, and two, that’s like … slightly illegal, Jac. But I appreciate you want justice,’ he added.

  ‘I’ve had it, Mac. These guys—they’ve used my property to produce drugs. They’ve attacked me,’ she started counting off their crimes on her fingers, ‘they killed Brayden—and those other two—and now they’ve shot my cows. Apart from this being just so cruel and evil and—and just plain mean, do you know how much this is going to cost me? With the cost in getting this property cleared off the contaminated list, and the lost income from these cows, these guys are slowly ruining me.’

  ‘Look, we don’t even know if it’s the same people,’ Mac said, although he had his suspicions.

  She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. ‘I looked around while I was waiting for you. Found the tyre tracks. Three central lines, middle one zigzag. It’s the same guys.’

  He sobered as he glanced along the gully floor. He was beginning to think the snake in the boot may not have been an accident, either.

  He looked up at Brent, who nodded. Mac turned to Ben. ‘We’ll need the kit from the boot,’ he told the constable. Ben grimaced, but turned and went to get the field forensics kit from the back of Mac’s car.

  Jac stood there, looking magnificent in her dusty black jeans, white and green plaid shirt and blue singlet. Her brown hair fell in a tangled ponytail over her shoulder, and red dust covered her from top to toe. Her brown Akubra hat looked worn and dusty, and her blue eyes were stormy with annoyance.

  And she’d never looked so damn beautiful. He wanted to check her over for himself, assure himself that she truly was all right. God, he had it bad. He pointed to the top of the gully. ‘I’ll need you to exit the crime scene, please. I’ll see you back at the house.’ Where it was safe, and away from any stray, cow-killing bullets.

  Her mouth opened as though to protest, then she looked at the cows in the gully, and made a face. ‘Okay,’ she agreed, and trudged up the gully walls to her bike. He watched her go.

  Brent made his way down toward him, and turned to look at the cows. ‘I’ll help you walk the scene, if you like. Take some photos, extract some bullets…’ He shook his head. ‘This is seriously messed up, though.’

  Mac nodded, watching as Jac climbed onto her bike, kick-started it, and rode off.

  Brent made a noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a chuckle. ‘So that’s the owner, huh?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Man, you are so screwed.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘It’s going to be okay, Jac,’ Scott said, and then took a sip from his beer bottle. They were sitting on the steps to the back veranda, watching the sun set. Ray sprawled across the bottom step of the veranda.

  Jacinta smiled grimly. ‘I want this to stop, Scott.’

  He nodded. ‘I know.’ He shifted closer to her on the step, until his hip brushed against hers. ‘We can sort this out, you and me. It will be all right.’

  She sipped her beer. ‘Thanks, Scott.’

  His arm slid around her shoulders, and she shot him a sidelong glance. His face was close to hers, his blue eyes serious. ‘I think, at the moment, that we should stick together. No more going off on your own, okay?’

  She frowned. ‘I don’t want to be afraid to walk around my own property, Scott. They’ve already stolen so much from us, I don’t want to give them my security, my freedom.’

  He nodded. ‘I know, but … those cows, Jac? Someone shot them. We should just leave all that investigating to the police. Don’t get involved.’

  Jac’s lips pressed together. ‘Scott, this is our home. I want to make it a safe one.’

  Scott’s gaze flickered. ‘I like hearing you talk about it being our home,’ he said huskily. ‘It gives me hope.’

  Ray rose to his feet, shook himself off, then trotted over toward the gate. The dog started to bark. Probably saw a rabbit.

  Jac hesitated, conscious of Scott’s body so close to hers. Um… that wasn’t what she meant. Scott lived at Bulls’ Run, just like she and Tom did, and just like Marion now did. She didn’t mean ‘our home’ as in Scott and hers, like they were a couple, or something. But how did she say that without causing him embarrassment, or hurting his feelings? ‘Uh, well—’

  Two cars crested the low ridge, headlights on as they turned into the yard. Jac rose, relieved at the opportunity to put some distance between herself and Scott.

  She smiled and waved as Ben Fields climbed out of the squad car, and Mac and the other guy got out of Mac’s car.

  She knew the other guy had a name, that she’d been introduced to him at the gully, but she’d been slightly distracted with checking out Mac when he’d arrived, looking all ferocious and stern.

  Now, though, he just looked grim and tired.

  He slammed the car door shu
t and strode toward her. The others followed at a slower pace.

  Mac climbed the steps. ‘Can we talk?’ he asked briskly. ‘Privately?’ he shot a quick glance in the direction of Scott, who narrowed his eyes at the comment.

  She nodded. ‘Yeah, sure—’

  She gasped when he grasped her hand, guided her around the third plank on the veranda, then opened the door and stepped inside her home. She could hear the other detective introduce himself to Scott, but then her attention was on the tall, broad-shouldered man who seemed to be dragging her through her house.

  Mac strode down the hallway, and nodded at her father when he passed him in the kitchen.

  ‘Mac,’ Tom greeted him, without looking up from the Cattleman’s Weekly he was reading.

  ‘Tom,’ Mac replied, and continued on down the hall. Jac had to run a little to catch up. She could smell dinner in the oven. She had no idea what Marion had prepared, but it smelled delicious. Jacinta thought they were headed for the living room, but Mac continued on down the hall to open her bedroom door.

  He pulled her quickly inside, and she opened her mouth to ask him what was going on, but he turned her, backed her up against the door and kissed her.

  She gasped, and he took advantage of her open mouth, employing his lips and tongue in a hot kiss that stole her breath, along with any intention of resisting. He cupped her cheeks, and she moaned softly as he slowly slid his hands into her hair. He tilted her head back to improve the angle of the kiss, his hips pressing against hers.

  She reached for his shoulders, pulling him closer, her fingers twisting in the cotton of his business shirt as she kissed him back. His shoulders were so broad, and she could feel the muscles beneath flex as he moved, his arms sliding around her to pull her even tighter against him.

  Her heart thudded in her chest as though she was running a sprint race, and she gasped when she felt his hand against her breast. He lifted his head, panting, then leaned his forehead against hers as he slowly lowered his hand to her waist. She shuddered at the caress, and gulped in some air.