Little Girl Lost

by Gover, Janet

  ‘Mum!’ Pete scolded gently. ‘I’ve told you before to stop matchmaking. I am not going to get involved with Joanie Hooper. Anyway, she’s not interested in me.’

  ‘You say that—’

  ‘I do, Mum.’

  ‘But she’s such a lovely girl,’ his mother persisted. ‘And let’s face it, son, you’re thirty now. It’s high time you settled down and started a family.’

  The irony of that almost made him laugh out loud.

  ‘All right. I know. I promise I’ll stop nagging if you’ll promise me just to stay in one place long enough to meet some nice girl some time. And soon. I do want grandchildren, you know.’

  That was going to happen sooner than she expected. He said goodbye and slipped the phone back in his pocket.

  His mother meant well. She had been happily married to his father for thirty-five years. They lived in a medium-sized brick home on the outskirts of Toowoomba, where his father ran a car sales yard. They were good together, complementing each other’s strengths and weaknesses and still very much in love. On his last visit he had walked in on them kissing in the kitchen. It hadn’t just been a peck on the cheek. And they were best friends too. If he was ever to marry, that’s the sort of marriage he wanted.

  But he wasn’t ready for a life away from the road. Tied down to one place. Going to the same place of work day after day. Staring at the same four walls while he tapped away at a computer or shuffled paperwork. That wasn’t for him.

  It hadn’t been for him. It was beginning to look like he’d have to get used to that sort of life … and far sooner than he had ever expected.

  Chapter Seven

  Max sat at his desk, staring at his computer, oblivious to the words on the screen. Unusually for him, he was still in uniform and still at his desk as the clock ticked over to eight o’clock. Outside, dusk was turning into night. There was no reason to be working this late. No emergency was claiming his time. There wasn’t even outstanding paperwork to do. He was at his desk because from there he could clearly hear the sounds of traffic on the road. Not that there was much traffic. So far he’d heard a single truck and two cars. He hadn’t heard what he was listening for … a motorcycle.

  Tia Walsh was a mystery to him. She hadn’t appeared again at Trish’s pub and Trish had offered no gossip about her on his visits. Nor had she been seen at the Mineside, the pub where the mine workers mostly drank. He’d been there to check too. According to Sarah Travers, Tia had bought supplies which had been delivered to the mine compound. Of course, that told him nothing except it seemed she was planning to stay a while, judging from the purchases Sarah had mentioned.

  That was as far as his investigation had taken him, which was probably a good thing. He was already feeling a little uncomfortable. He really couldn’t argue that his interest in Tia was professional. She’d done nothing to provoke official enquiries. At least not since she’d arrived in his town. He knew his preoccupation with her was purely personal, aroused by a mane of dark auburn hair, a pair of brilliant green eyes and a set of motorcycle leathers that did more than just hint at a lovely body beneath. He looked at the screen in front of him. He could enter her name into the police system and see what it had to offer. He clenched his fingers into fists. No. He couldn’t do that. Tia had a right to her privacy.

  Then he heard it. The throaty rumble of the Harley passing through the town on the road leading north. As she had done several times this past week, Tia was taking her bike onto the highway for a late night ride. Of course, she had every right to do that too. What she didn’t have the right to do was break the speed limit, and Max was pretty sure those late night rides were not defined by anything as mundane as the speed limit.

  Before he could think it through and before he could tell himself this wasn’t right, Max grabbed his hat from the hook on the wall and headed for his car. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine. A tiny voice at the back of his head was whispering that this was not the kind of policeman he was, but he ignored it and turned onto the road, heading north.

  There was no sign of a tail light ahead. Max kept his speed down as he passed through town. He wasn’t that obsessed with catching the Harley. But as soon as he was on the highway heading north, he pushed his foot down. The police vehicle was a big four-wheel drive Land Cruiser. He couldn’t hope to catch the hog if Tia really opened it up. But …

  Max put his foot to the floor.

  At last he saw the glimmer of red light up ahead. He glanced down at his speedo and whistled under his breath. Now he did have an ‘official’ reason to pull her over. But even as he reached out to activate his police lights and siren, he knew it was highly unlikely he’d actually book her. He rarely booked anyone for speeding on these roads, where traffic was thin on the ground. Drink driving was another matter. Drunks on the road were a danger to themselves and everyone else. But he didn’t expect Tia to be drunk. He might have only seen her once, but everything about her had told him she was both smart and wary. She would take risks; but not stupid or unnecessary ones.

  The harsh wail of the police siren split the stillness of the night. Immediately, Max saw the Harley’s brake light flash. He eased off the accelerator and followed the bike as it pulled over to the side of the road. He reached for his hat as he got out of the car because this was official business, but he left his ticket book behind. A girl on a Harley pushing the limit a bit was hardly a major crime. He would give her a stern warning though. Outback roads had dangers that city folk didn’t understand.

  The bike stuttered into silence. The night suddenly seemed eerily quiet. The road was empty except for the police car and the motorcycle caught in its headlights. Max’s footsteps on the grey bitumen sounded very loud.

  The girl on the bike turned her head towards him, but made no move to remove her full-face helmet. In the reflected light of his headlight, Max couldn’t see her eyes. And he very much wanted to.

  ‘Good evening, miss,’ he said in his most official voice. ‘Would you please remove your helmet?’

  Without a word, she reached for the strap. She leaned forward as she pulled the helmet over her head, then placed it on the fuel tank in front of her before she turned to look at him again with those flashing eyes, so bright that even in this light he could see a glimmer of emerald. Her hair was caught back in a ponytail that vanished under her leather jacket.

  ‘Miss, are you aware that you were speeding?’

  Her eyes remained intensely fixed on his face, but she merely lifted a shoulder in a suggestion of a shrug.

  ‘Could I see your licence, please?’ Max said.

  Without a word she began to slowly unzip her jacket. There was nothing sexual about the way she did it, but to Max it was the most erotic thing he’d seen in a very long time. His eyes were glued to her fingers as she slowly slid the zipper down and pulled the jacket open. She was wearing something white and tight fitting underneath. She reached into an inner pocket of the jacket. Her fingers felt around the pocket for a moment, then they emerged empty. She looked into his face and shrugged. She wasn’t carrying a licence.

  For the first time this evening his professional self took over from the part of him that was having trouble dragging his eyes off the woman in front of him.

  ‘You’re Tia Walsh, aren’t you? You work at the mine.’

  Her strong eyes met his and held his gaze as she nodded slightly.

  ‘You need to present your licence to me at the Coorah Creek station within forty-eight hours.’

  He paused, waiting for her to speak, but she didn’t.

  ‘If you don’t you may suffer a penalty fine which could be one hundred and fifty dollars. Do you understand?’

  Still she didn’t speak. Max felt a childish urge to yell something, just to make her react. But he fought it down.

  ‘If you do produce your licence, I won’t
take any action about the speeding … this time,’ he said in his sternest voice.

  Still she said nothing.

  ‘You can go now. Don’t make me come looking for you.’

  Her lips moved then, sliding into the merest hint of a grin. Max almost blushed. That grin seemed to say that she knew very well he’d been looking for her on more than one occasion already.

  She reached for her helmet.

  ‘One more thing,’ Max said, before she could pull it over her head. ‘There are a lot of roos on the roads out here. At that sort of speed you’d have trouble avoiding one. Slow down for you own sake. All right?’

  The cheeky smile got a little bit broader. She slipped the helmet over her head and touched the starter. The engine roared into life. With a great deal of skill, she steered the bike into a very tight turn with Max at the centre, and headed back the way she had come.

  Max watched her go, his jaw tightly set.

  She hadn’t said one word during the entire encounter. Nor had she spoken during their previous encounter at the pub. More than anything in the world, he wanted to hear her voice.

  It didn’t take long for his headlights to appear in her rear-view mirrors. Keeping herself carefully just under the speed limit, Tia rode back towards town, her mind racing.

  Tonight’s meeting hadn’t been an accident. The cop had planned it. He’d been checking up on her since that day he’d first laid eyes on her. A couple of her workmates had mentioned he’d been at the pub looking for her. Chris Powell’s secretary had also mentioned a visit and the day before yesterday, Tia had changed her mind about doing some shopping when she’d spotted a police uniform through the glass window of the general store.

  Why was he stalking her?

  She sort of expected it. He was a cop, after all. One of the pigs. He wasn’t the first one to follow her and she doubted he would be the last. But despite the badge, he didn’t feel as threatening as some of the other police who had crossed her path. There was a kindness to his face that she would have liked had it not been attached to the uniform.

  She slowed even further as the lights of the town drew close. By the time she passed the town sign she was within the speed limit. She thought about stopping at the pub. What would the cop do, she wondered. Would he wait outside in the hope of busting her for drink driving? Would he follow her inside? Would he …

  No. She gripped the handlebars more firmly and powered past the pub back towards the mine. She had already attracted far too much of his attention. And there was also the matter of producing her licence tomorrow. There was risk in that, if he looked too closely. If he checked her records or did a search on the Harley’s reggo. Just because he seemed nicer than most of the cops in her experience, she couldn’t afford to let down her guard. Not even out here, in a place so far removed from the rest of the world that it might as well be on another planet.

  There were a few lights on in the dongas when she arrived back at the mine compound. And the mess was bright and noisy and crowded, as it always was. Tia rode past it, as she always did, and returned to her trailer.

  Once the door was safely locked behind her, and the curtains pulled tight, Tia removed her leathers. From her fridge she took a can of beer. Pulling the ring top, she put it on the table, and dropped to her knees. From the back of a storage cupboard, under the bench seat, she pulled out a small vinyl rucksack.

  She dropped it onto the table and slid onto the bench seat along the trailer wall. She glanced around to double check that no one could walk in on her, or see what she was doing.

  She unzipped the bag and emptied the contents onto the table.

  The gun landed on the wooden surface with a dull thump. It was enclosed in a plastic bag. Tia assumed it was still loaded. She had never checked. She hadn’t touched it since the moment she’d picked it up and sealed it to preserve the evidence on it. She’d been around enough cops to know that was how it was done. She laid her hand on the cold plastic, feeling the hard shape inside and remembering what it represented and how she had come by it.

  Tia didn’t consider herself a criminal. Sure, she’d stolen a few things from time to time. You had to if you were fifteen and living on the streets. But she’d never mugged anyone. Never sold drugs. Never sold her body. Well, not for money. There were times she had used her body to help her survive. And, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that. She would do it again if she had to; although she hoped it would never come to that again.

  She had stolen the gun from her boyfriend on the day she fled her old life never to return. She wasn’t really sure why she had taken it. She told herself it was to stop it being used again. Her one little contribution to crime control. Sometimes she thought it was for her own protection. She would never use it herself, but if Ned ever found her, she could trade the gun for her freedom. For her life, maybe.

  As she looked at it her mind turned to the cop who pulled her over tonight. Sergeant Delaney. While he’d been checking her out she’d asked some questions of her own. He was an honest cop. That’s what everyone said. If he found that rucksack and the contents …

  She should get rid of the stuff. It would be easy enough way out here. All she had to do was head off into the bush somewhere and dump it. But it was her safety blanket, and she wasn’t ready to let it go yet.

  Tia pushed the gun aside and found a small sandwich bag. Inside were her driver’s licence and a credit card that she never used. The rucksack also held some paperwork – letters and a very old, and slightly tatty, Christmas card. It was red and had once been covered with golden sparkles; the sort of card you might give to a young teenage girl. And there was a small velvet box. She immediately tossed that back into the rucksack without opening it. She knew only too well what it contained.

  She’d show her driver’s licence to Delaney before the forty-eight hours were up. He’d no doubt check on it, but that was okay. It was real and legal and valid. With luck he’d stop there and wouldn’t look any further. She put everything back in the rucksack and shoved it back into its hiding place. It occurred to her that the cop might already have taken a note of the Harley’s reggo, if he’d been able to read it under the layer of mud. If so, there was nothing she could do about it. She’d face that problem when and if she had to.

  Chapter Eight

  A sign flashed past. Pete was coming into Coorah Creek. He’d been doing this run for a long time, and the Creek was one of his favourite places. But today, his mind was too far away to appreciate the town.

  He was going to be a father.

  He’d had a few days now to get used to the idea. He’d even gone with Linda to a doctor’s appointment. He’d listened carefully to everything the doctor said about what was ahead of them, but he was still struggling to put himself in the picture the doctor’s words had painted.

  Linda was bubbling over with plans; talking about buying things for the baby and setting up a nursery. There hadn’t been any mention of marriage, but he knew Linda was thinking about that too. Marriage and setting up a home together. All the things she had dreamed about since she was a little girl. All the things a family could want. All the things he didn’t want. At least, not now. And not with Linda.

  He was feeling trapped. He didn’t want to feel that way, but he did. He liked to think he was a good man with a proper sense of right and wrong. He’d do the right thing by Linda and the baby, but he wasn’t entirely sure exactly what the right thing was. Support, both emotional and financial was definitely right. Although their relationship had never been that serious, he didn’t question that the baby was his. Linda wouldn’t lie about something like that. However, he had to wonder if it was right to marry and set up a home if his heart wasn’t in it? He liked Linda a lot. But love? No. He wasn’t in love with her. Had it not been for the baby, he would have ended their relationship by now.

  Pete
ran his fingers through his hair. If there was an answer to these questions and all the others that were running around his mind, he had no idea where to find them.

  He drove slowly through the town and out the other side, heading for the mine.

  By the time he turned in at the mine gates, Pete had driven all thoughts of Linda and the baby from his mind. At least, that’s what he told himself. He turned his rig and began backing up to the loading dock at the big storage shed. He’d done this a hundred times before, placing the rear doors of the trailer against the raised loading bay, so the pallets and drums could easily be rolled out.

  ‘Hey, Pete,’ a voice called from just outside his window. ‘You’re gonna miss it, buddy. More right hand down.’

  Feeling a surge of embarrassment, Pete pulled forward a few metres and tried again, this time keeping his head squarely in the game.

  In a couple of minutes, the rear of his rig was pressed hard against the wooden rail at the edge of the loading bay. The mine workers had been through this procedure as many times as Pete. They had the back open and were already starting to unload. Pete stood back and left them to it. There were drums of grease and oil for the huge mine machines and spare parts, the use of which he couldn’t even begin to guess. An operation this big took a lot of support.

  One of the huge mine trucks drove slowly past, to pull up beside the refuelling bullet. The door opened and, to Pete’s surprise, a woman got out. He’d never seen a woman driver at the mine before. And she was quite some woman. She was slender and shapely despite her heavy-duty work wear and bright protective vest. Her hair was caught up in a clip at the back of her neck, with just a few wavy tendrils escaping. Pete could imagine that when she let it loose, it would cascade down her back like a red wave.