by Piper Stone
He smacked thoroughly, rhythmically, placing broad stripes across her bottom and the tops of her thighs. He made her squirm, made her squeal, made her sore. He made her truly sorry for her silly absentmindedness. Skye sobbed and resolved she would never be so scatterbrained again.
By the end of the chapter, Skye’s backside was deep vermilion from Hayden’s chastisement. Nick closed the book and put the Kindle in the glovebox.
Fel was still into spanking all right. Now all he had to do was let her know that he was too.
Chapter 5
“Fel, could you show Nick Loxton around the park this morning?” said Gerry when Fel arrived in the office next day. “It’ll only take a couple of hours. Just show him the usual summer trouble spots.”
Fel usually grasped any opportunity to spend time outdoors rather than at her desk. But the last thing she wanted was time alone with Nick. She wanted her Kindle back, but she didn’t want to be in his company for more than a few seconds. It was just too humiliating now that she knew he remembered those spanking games.
“I can take him if Fel’s busy,” said Jodi quickly.
Relieved, Fel ignored the concerned frown that creased Gerry’s brow. He didn’t want Jodi losing her heart to another guy this summer, focusing on her fling rather than her job. “It would really help me if Jodi could take him,” she assured Gerry. “There are a few important emails I didn’t get onto yesterday because of the report.”
Gerry sighed. “Okay then, but you’ll need to do Jodi’s stint in the store when you’ve finished.”
“That’s fine.” Working at the store wasn’t Fel’s favourite part of the job. She hadn’t studied zoology and become a national park ranger to spend her days selling bags of ice and souvenir plastic penguins and lighthouses to tourists. But today anything was better than being alone with Nick.
When Gerry’s back was turned, Jodi punched the air. “Thanks,” she whispered to Fel. “Two hours with the hot senior sergeant. Wish me luck!”
Fel was surprised by a sudden rush of jealousy. She didn’t want to see Nick, but she didn’t want Jodi seducing him either. Irritated by her conflicted feelings, she settled down at her computer to deal with the bunch of emails she’d described as ‘important’ but were actually boring. She was responding to an enquiry about campsite vacancies in mid-January when she heard the ‘Morning Nick’ chorus that indicated Nick Loxton was in the office.
In the corner of her eye, she saw the dark-uniformed figure approach her desk. She tensed.
“You left this in the pub last night,” he said quietly, placing her Kindle on her desk.
“Thanks,” she muttered, not taking her eyes off the screen.
“Could we catch up at lunchtime or after work, do you think? I’d like to—”
Fel cut him off. “I’m busy.”
“Right.”
Nick didn’t move, though, and Fel sensed he was about to say more. But she was saved by Jodi bouncing over to him. “I’m showing you around the park a bit this morning, Nick. I’ve filled up a couple of water bottles for us. It’s going to get really hot out there today.”
Fel breathed a sigh of relief when, with a cursory “See you later,” Nick followed Jodi out of the office. She tucked the Kindle into her handbag and returned to her email.
Jodi showed Nick around the main campground first. Although most campers wouldn’t arrive till tonight, a lot of campsites were already taken up by massive tents or trailers. Tinsel had been twisted around guy ropes and decorated plastic Christmas trees stood on tables under shade cloths. Cars and trailers were adorned with tinsel, baubles, and plastic Santas. Campers lingered over bacon and sausages, the smell of which made Nick’s mouth water. Christmas songs played through speakers. Tiny preschool kids darted around playing tag or hide and seek.
“This is all very festive,” said Nick.
“Isn’t it? I hope it stays that way and all you have to do all summer is pull people over for speeding,” Jodi said.
She led him out of the campground and along a track that led to a white-sand beach, already busy with swimmers, sunworshippers and small kids playing cricket. Nick paused to drink in the view. Large brown rocks rose out of a sparkling blue sea. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Not a bad workplace,” Jodi agreed with a grin.
By the time he’d visited secluded coves and picnic grounds in ferny gullies, Nick understood why the rangers worried about party-season tourists invading Tarwin Point’s pristine environment. “The only other trouble spot is a three-hour hike away,” said Jodi. “We had problems with day trippers coming in by boat last year, camping illegally and leaving their rubbish. If you need to go down there one of the rangers will take you by boat. I can show you if you like, later perhaps, if Gerry agrees. We can take a boat out.”
He could tell how much she wanted him to say yes, and tried to let her down gently. “Thanks, but I’d better do some police work when you’ve finished showing me around. I don’t think Kane will be happy if I leave everything to him.”
Jodi looked disappointed, but maintained a cheery patter as they retraced their steps to her car. She told him about the history of the park, how the various landmarks had got their names. Nick tried to concentrate, but couldn’t stop thinking about Fel. She’d been rude this morning, spoken to him in a way that would have resulted in over-the-knee punishment if they’d been characters in those ‘Colour Me Red’ novels. But he knew she was embarrassed by his memories of their childhood games. “You know Fel well, don’t you?” he asked Jodi.
Jodi looked downcast, but answered brightly. “Well enough.”
“We knew each other briefly as kids,” he explained. “Her gran lived next door to us.”
“She never said.” Jodi sounded surprised.
“Anyway, we were talking about the old days last night, and I think I upset her a bit,” Nick said. “I’d like to buy her something by way of apology, flowers maybe, or chocolates. Do you know the sort of things she likes?”
They’d reached Jodi’s car. She pressed the button on her key ring to open it. “Well, she was saying yesterday that she wanted to get a poinsettia. I shouldn’t think she’s bought one between then and now. You could get one of those.”
Nick got into the passenger seat. “They’re those red plants everybody gets at Christmas, right?”
“Yes. Or you could try roses. Red roses,” Jodi said, starting the engine.
Nick grinned. It sounded like red was Fel’s favourite colour. Somehow he wasn’t surprised.
“Boy, it’s hot out there.” Jodi bounced up to the checkout and Fel caught the scent of sunscreen. “Glad I showed Nick around the park before the heat really set in. Gerry says I have to relieve you now.”
Fel grinned. “I’m glad to see you.” Working in the store was one step up from cleaning the amenities block and one step down from paperwork as far as Fel was concerned. It was lunch time and finally there was a lull in customers. Those still in the store were clustered around the takeaway area, staffed by volunteers.
“Ask me how I went with the hot senior sergeant.”
“So, how did you go with the hot senior sergeant?”
“Hmm, almost seduced him, but there’s just one problem.”
“What’s that then?”
“He fancies you.”
Fel felt her cheeks burn. “How do you know that?”
Jodi tapped her nose as she manoeuvred past Fel to take over the checkout. “Ah, well,” she said. “Plenty more fish in the sea and all that. Maybe one of the surf lifesavers will be yummy, hey?” Jodi turned her attention to a woman buying postcards, and Fel headed back to the office.
“Ah, you’re back, Fel,” Gerry said. “I’ve just finished drawing up the junior rangers roster. I’ve put you down for Christmas Eve and Boxing Day – is that okay? We won’t run the program on Christmas Day.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Fel didn’t relish the prospect of trying to teach a bunch of overexcited children ab
out nature on Christmas Eve, but it was better than being stuck in the store. “Do you have anything for me to do now, or is it okay for me to check out the track up near the entrance? The one where those kids were yesterday?”
“Yeah, do that,” Gerry said. “Let me know if you find anything.”
Fel filled up her water bottle, smoothed on sunscreen, then grabbed her sunglasses and peaked cap. She parked where she had last night; there was no sign of the white van. Despite the heat, she strode along the track, intending to walk for about an hour and then turn around. She didn’t think the youths would have wandered any further than that. It had been so hot they’d have gotten thirsty.
There was a rustle in the bush as she skirted Weaver’s farm and Fel stilled, expecting to see a kangaroo or emu. She did a double take when she spotted the animal behind the tea tree.
Black and tan fur; pricked, pointy ears.
“There’s a bloody dog in here,” Fel said aloud. Dogs weren’t allowed in Australia’s national parks because of the threat they posed to native animals. She wondered whether the youths had abandoned the blue heeler here yesterday. That might explain why they looked so furtive.
The dog was watching her, wagging its tail gently. Well, at least it seemed friendly; maybe she could grab its collar and take it back to her car. Then back at the office she could get in touch with the council, try to find out who to send the fine to. She whistled and it scurried over to her.
Fel let the dog sniff the back of her hand; then, seeing it was docile, she gently rubbed its head. “Where’ve you come from, hey?” she asked. “You shouldn’t be in here. I’m going to take you back with me, okay?”
The blue heeler seemed happy for Fel to take its collar. But it made for awkward walking along the track and she wished she had something she could use as a lead. She was wondering whether the dog would trot alongside her unrestrained when it made a sudden dash towards the fence, and Fel’s attention was caught by something she hadn’t spotted when she walked past minutes before.
The barbed wire fence that separated Weaver’s farm from the park had been cut.
Well, that explained how the dog got in.
The gap in the fence was large enough for her to slip through without catching her uniform or skin on barbs. She’d take the dog to the farm and let Weaver know what had happened. Maybe those kids had cut the fence – it was the sort of stupid thing bored teens might do.
Holding on to the dog’s collar with one hand, she grabbed her phone from her trouser pocket with the other. Time to let Gerry know what she’d found along the track and what she planned to do.
Back at the cramped national park police station, Nick caught up with Kane. Kane had spent the morning parked beside the straight stretch of the main road into the park trying to catch unsuspecting speedsters. Now he sat at the computer, keying in the results of his work.
“Get many?” Nick asked, plonking his water bottle on his desk and looking out the window at the uninspiring view of a toilet block and the back of the store.
“A few. They weren’t exactly thrilled about it either, especially this close to Christmas.” Kane’s mouth curved into a satisfied grin.
“Well, they should obey the speed limit, shouldn’t they? I’ll take my turn doing that later.” Gerry had told Nick that the majority of new arrivals rolled in between six and nine o’clock each evening. Because today was Friday and most schools were breaking up for the holidays, plenty of campers were expected to arrive tonight.
“I’ll take a walk around the main campground and beach now,” Kane said, turning off his computer. “Let the campers know we’re here so they’re not tempted to break any more national park rules.”
Nick ate a late lunch while he checked his email. He decided to drive out to the next farm on his list. He grabbed his water bottle and stepped out of the police station. There was no one in the visitors centre, but Gerry stood behind the counter, talking to someone on his mobile phone.
“Are you sure it’s Doug Weaver’s dog?” he was asking.
Nick’s ears pricked up. He feigned interest in the ‘Snakes of Tarwin Point’ display to eavesdrop. A disturbingly real-looking model of a deadly tiger snake rose behind the glass, showing Nick its fangs.
“Well, yeah, it sounds like it probably is,” Gerry said. “And you’re probably right that it was those teenagers who cut the fence. Yeah, look, take the dog back to Weaver and if it’s not his dog, he might know whose it is. Hold onto it, though, until you’re sure it’s his. We don’t want it worrying his sheep or whatever. Okay, Fel, see you later.”
“What’s up?” Nick asked, stepping out from behind the snake display. “Something going on up at Weaver’s farm?”
“Yeah.” Gerry put his phone down on the counter. “Fel found Weaver’s dog wandering through the national park – at least she thinks it’s his dog. It was near his property, it wanted to go back in, and his fence had been cut. We think it was some teenagers she came across near there yesterday, messing around.”
“What teenagers?”
“Just four lads she came across on the track yesterday. She took their rego, but the van had disappeared when I drove home not long after she left. It wasn’t at any of the campgrounds either. I had one of the rangers check.”
“You didn’t think to mention it to me or Kane?”
Gerry shrugged. “Like I said, the van had gone. They weren’t doing anything you could actually ping them for.”
But it sounded like the youths had returned, cut the fence. Nick frowned. This didn’t sound good. What did Gerry think he was doing letting Fel wander onto the farm alone? “I spoke to Weaver yesterday,” he said, “and he told me he was going away for Christmas today.”
“Well, hopefully whoever he’s got looking after his animals over Christmas will fix his fence as well,” said Gerry. “We don’t want cattle wandering into the park, that’s for sure. Lucky Fel caught the dog when she did. It could have attacked some of the wildlife.”
“I was heading out that way anyway, to visit another farm,” said Nick, “so I’ll call in at Weaver’s place, talk to whoever’s looking after it, have them fix it quickly.”
And, he added silently, he’d make sure Fel was safe as well. The old farmer had seemed very furtive yesterday, and Nick didn’t like the idea that Fel was on her own there, especially if the fence had been deliberately cut by ‘teenagers messing around.’ They might still be hanging around; they might even be after Weaver’s guns.
Nick hurried outside, jumped into the police car, and steered it in the direction of the park gates.
Chapter 6
The dog broke loose from Fel’s grip as she crawled through the gap in the fence. She called out, but it ran towards the farm buildings. It definitely belonged to Weaver then. Fel turned her attention to checking that there was no bull in the field of cows she found herself in. Reassured, she headed towards the farmhouse, swigging water. There was no shade and her bare arms tingled despite the sunscreen she’d applied earlier.
The farmhouse was a white-painted weatherboard closer to the main road than the national park boundary. The property was flat and the grass remained green from what had been a particularly rainy spring. The only sounds were the mooing of cows and the warbling of a family of magpies gathered on the field. By the time Fel arrived on the porch, there was no sign of the blue heeler. Well, that couldn’t be helped; the main thing was to tell Weaver about the fence so he could get it fixed.
Now that she was closer to the farmhouse, Fel could see it looked neglected. The windowsills and front door needed a lick of paint, and one of the window frames was rotting. The only things on the porch were a battered old sofa, a doormat and a shoe rack containing a couple of pairs of black gum boots.
She pressed the doorbell.
No answer.
She pressed again.
She waited a couple of minutes before pressing a third time, then gave up. Weaver wasn’t in the house; she’d check whether he w
as in one of the outbuildings, and if he wasn’t she’d have to think of an alternative plan. It was possible he was away for Christmas, but someone must be looking after the cows.
She walked round the back of the farmhouse and towards a massive tin shed that was almost as big as the house. The door was open and Fel stepped inside, then stopped dead in her tracks.
She’d expected to find tractors, maybe Weaver’s own car.
But the shed was chock-full of cars. Wrecked cars, stripped down. At least twenty of them: red cars, black cars, some large, some small, all missing their doors, their engines, their gear boxes. Some still bore dusty number plates, and one of them, on a small red Mazda, jumped out at Fel.
She took a step closer, scarcely believing her eyes. It was her car – or at least what remained of her Mazda2 Neo, the first car she’d bought not long after getting her driver’s licence. Nicked eight years ago. What the hell was it doing here more than 250 kilometres away from where it had been stolen?
What were all these cars doing here?
With her phone, she took photographs of her stripped-down Mazda, then of some of the other cars, wondering if they’d all been stolen, like hers.
There was only one way to find out. She sent the photos to Gerry and asked him to forward them to Kane and Nick. She checked there was no one outside the shed before following up with a phone call.
Gerry answered straightaway. “Fel? What’s going on? I’ve got Kane here to talk to you.”
“Hey, Fel.” Kane took the phone, sounding concerned. “I’m just checking those regos you’ve sent through against the stolen vehicle register. I haven’t had time to check many yet, but so far the cars were stolen from Melbourne years ago – 2010 and earlier.”
“My old car’s among them. It was nicked in 2009. How have they got here?”