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  She found she needed to move, so she rose and walked around the pool. Then, as panic crept up and almost overtook her, she went faster. Keeping her gaze on the uneven ground to make sure she didn’t trip, she suddenly stopped. Bending, she peered closer at the marks.

  There were boot tracks in the sand leading into the pools. She knew instantly they weren’t hers—she was barefoot, and anyway, they were much bigger and she didn’t own boots like that. Who’d been here? It was such a difficult spot to get to, and really the only people who knew it well were her family and the few friends from town that they’d brought in. Why would there be someone hanging around?

  It’s probably just Graham, she told herself. It looks like a Blundstone boot mark. He’d probably been up here getting cold feet about the engagement party on Saturday. Honestly, Milly, you’ll give yourself a heart attack. But she was still unnerved as she retrieved her sneakers and headed away from the springs, back towards the homestead. She was going to have a lie down and then head back to Kim’s to apologise and have a slice of cake.

  Chapter 22

  ‘So Sav blanked you this morning?’ Chelle asked as she poured a cup of coffee, then sat next to Amelia at the roadhouse table. It was the quiet time of a mid-Thursday afternoon and they were the only ones in the room, so they could talk freely. ‘Are you sure she wasn’t just rushed off her feet?’

  ‘I’d like to think that,’ Amelia muttered, ‘but she hasn’t replied to the text I sent, and you know how often she checks her phone. Anyway, if she does have a problem with me, serves me right. Look how I just treated Paul. I think that bang on the head scrambled my brains.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Chelle took a sip. ‘Oh man, that’s good. I’m exhausted. I think I had about two hours’ sleep.’

  ‘Busy night then?’

  ‘Babies choose the most inconvenient times to arrive,’ Chelle said with a sigh.

  Amelia thought it would be amazing to watch a new human life come into the world—she’d seen many animals born, and it never got old!—but she knew better than to say that to Chelle in this mood. And the thought of babies made Amelia think of Paul and some of the ideas about the future she’d been having before their fight. She took a few deep breaths, inhaling the delicious smells of the roadhouse. Kim was sizzling up some steaks for a late lunch order she’d walk over to the garage.

  Chelle sighed again. ‘So, what are we doing here? With my lack of brain power today, I don’t think I’m going to be much use to you.’

  ‘Dave’s investigating me,’ Amelia began. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  Leaning her chin on her hand, Chelle looked at Amelia with tired eyes. ‘You know, I hope you don’t mind, but Chrissie mentioned that to me. She’s worried about you. We both are. She said it was really important to you to remember what happened that night. Are you sure you’re not overreacting and pushing yourself too hard?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Dave’s interviewed me twice and both times he’s asked about my finances.’ She held up a hand. ‘Yeah, I know, I know, he’s asked everyone, but from talking to Gus and Pip and Anne, he hasn’t gone back to them for seconds. Look, Dave’s an outsider—he doesn’t know me, or Paul. So how could he not suspect us when we’ve got such a good motive? I mean, even I’m not sure about Paul.’

  Chelle drank more coffee. ‘Okay, so say you’re right and Dave is looking at you. Why would you get yourself tasered and have your ribs cracked?’

  ‘To make it seem realistic.’

  ‘Too many TV shows for you, my friend.’

  ‘Yeah, think what you want, but I know I’m right.’ Amelia’s voice rose in frustration. Why couldn’t her friend see how serious this was? They weren’t just talking about one robbery—there was the other crime, too. Maybe more.

  ‘Come on, get to the crux of all this before I fall asleep.’

  ‘Well, let’s look at the facts.’ Amelia held up her hand and flicked each finger as she spoke. ‘One: Dave asked me about my financial situation and Paul’s. Two: He’s been told by me and everyone that Paul is broke, and now it turns out Paul’s got oodles of cash and we don’t know where it’s come from. Three: Dave also asked why I was driving so fast. Maybe it looks like I was actually trying to get away from Gus.’

  Chelle waved her hand in a give-me-more gesture. ‘All circumstantial and can be explained.’

  ‘Yeah, but enough to get Dave to look elsewhere? That’s what I’m going to have to do, Chelle. I’m going to have to give him other people to investigate so he doesn’t keep coming after me. But I can’t just randomly throw people under the bus—I actually have to believe they could be responsible.’

  ‘So what are you wanting to do?’

  ‘I want to do some investigating. I want to find plausible suspects.’

  Chelle shook her head. ‘You’re forgetting a couple of things. One, you’re not a detective, you’re just obsessed with Bones. Two, it’s probably not anyone local.’

  ‘I think it has to be,’ Amelia said stubbornly. ‘Who else could have known we were shifting the money that night, at that time?’

  ‘Anybody with half a brain! No one would leave that amount of money on site overnight.’ Then Chelle’s eyes narrowed and she asked, ‘So you’re saying it’s someone on the committee?’

  ‘Or someone with access to them.’

  ‘Babe, you’re the one with access to half the town’s bank accounts. You’d know if there was something funny going on there.’

  Amelia rubbed the back of her aching neck. ‘I know, and that’s the trouble—believe me when I say that I’ve thought about all those accounts, but there’s nothing funny in any of them.’ She slumped, despondent.

  ‘Bloody hell, of all the days to be feeling like death warmed up.’ Chelle paused. ‘Okay, so I guess we have to work out who else in Torrica would have been desperate enough to get the money. So, precise bank details aside, who has money woes? And here’s another question. Has anyone bought anything really big and expensive since it happened? A new header, ski boat, any so-called toy that would have been classed as a luxury unless they came into excess money?’

  ‘I guess . . . I guess we should start with Paul. I want to be absolutely sure.’

  ‘Hell, Milly, if you really need to look into him about this, how on earth can you think about marrying him?’ Chelle crossed her arms in disgust.

  ‘I know!’ Amelia’s eyes stung with tears. ‘But I just . . . I just need to know. I don’t understand why he couldn’t tell me where he got the money. And he certainly fits the bill.’

  ‘Ugh. What a bloody mess. I think I need another coffee.’ Chelle got up and helped herself. ‘Okay, here’s a couple of options. I know from Chrissie that Grant Hink, the vet, is having trouble.’

  ‘You know, that’s the second time I’ve heard that, but I find it really hard to believe when you see the flash surgery and new ute and so on. People don’t think clearly when it comes to treating their pets and throw money hand over fist at the guy who looks after them.’

  ‘Yep, totally right, but it’s not the way you’re thinking. Clients haven’t been paying their bills, so he’s having trouble meeting his. His bill at Torrica farm merch store is over ninety days.’

  ‘How did you get talking to Chrissie about this?’ Amelia asked.

  ‘The invoices were printed on different-coloured paper and I asked why.’ Chelle shrugged. ‘I just thought it was a way of coding customers. I guess it is, in a way. The ones who are in big trouble get bright red, the ones in a smaller amount of trouble get green ones, and if you pay on time, you’re lucky. You get the plain, basic white.’

  ‘Right,’ Amelia said. She thought for a moment. ‘Were any others getting the red treatment?’

  ‘No, Grant was the only one, but there were a few greens.’

  ‘Many? Anyone we know?’

  ‘I only saw three and the name on the top envelope. It was Jim Green. Green for Green. It’s kind of funny.’

  There was
a pause. ‘Jim? From the committee?’

  ‘Your favourite person.’

  Amelia closed her eyes as she processed that. ‘But it only means he hasn’t paid last month’s accounts?’

  ‘I think so, but you should ask Chrissie. I was only in there to kill a bit of time, while I was waiting for my afternoon surgery to start. We walked to the post office together.’ The bell on the roadhouse door tinkled and Chelle’s eyes widened. ‘Ah, I think I’ll head off, Milly. Looks like someone’s looking for you.’

  Amelia turned around and saw Paul making a beeline for them. She found she couldn’t talk, so she waved to Chelle, who said hello to Paul on her way out.

  ‘Well, I have to say, you really shocked me last night,’ Paul said as he sat down. ‘Not quite the reaction I was after.’

  ‘I don’t suppose I expected to see so much work going on either,’ Amelia countered.

  ‘No, I guess not.’ Paul was silent as he picked at his nails before looking back at her. ‘That really hurt, Milly. I don’t understand how you could think that of me.’

  Amelia leaned across the table and grabbed his hands. ‘I don’t really think that of you, but I couldn’t work out how you could afford all that! There’s never been any extra cash and then suddenly all these renos were happening—and there was a ring! I wasn’t expecting one of them for months yet, maybe years.’ She squeezed his fingers, but he pulled his hands away. ‘I just . . . I’ve been so scared of everything since that last night of the rodeo. My head filled up with all these horrible thoughts, and—’

  ‘That doesn’t show a lot of trust in me.’ Paul smiled sadly. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not sure what to say.’

  ‘Can you just think about it from my point of view for a moment?’

  ‘No, I reckon you should think about it from mine,’ he retorted. ‘The person who’s supposed to stand beside me, no matter what, asked me where the money came from when I gave her an engagement ring.’

  ‘That was all I did, Paul. Just asked. I didn’t actually accuse you of anything. You assumed I did.’ She tried to put it as gently as she could, but even to her own ears it sounded horrible and harsh, like something her mum would say.

  Paul leaned back in his chair. ‘The reason I went to Adelaide wasn’t to do the probate on Dad’s will,’ he said. ‘I’ve already done that. I’d finally had an idea to make some money. For ages I’d been wracking my brains, trying to work out how I could get some cash to fix the house, make it a home so you could move in quicker.’ His voice broke and he ran his hands over his face. ‘So I came up with this idea. It took a while to organise and for it all to go through, but I finally got it done.’

  Amelia couldn’t help herself. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I subdivided off forty hectares.’ Paul looked into her eyes, unflinching. ‘I was reluctant to do it—it’s some of my best land, and it might come back to bite me—but I did it for you. For us. Felt I had to.’

  ‘Um.’ Amelia’s stomach sank to her feet. ‘I . . . um . . .’

  Paul continued. ‘So when I knew the subdivision had been accepted, I had it listed with a real estate agent. And it sold. I had to go and sign things on the Saturday, then there was more stuff to finalise with the bank on the Monday, and then I bought the ring. I’d had plans drawn up for the house months ago—I’d always wanted to fix it up, but more so knowing I wanted you there with me. The builder was organised last week. I could do that knowing there was money coming.’

  Amelia’s face was burning. She closed her eyes to hide her acute embarrassment. And not just embarrassment: shame.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she managed. ‘I’m really sorry.’

  Paul was silent, looking down at his hands on the tabletop.

  ‘What else do you want me to say?’ she pleaded.

  ‘Well, Amelia, I wanted you to know how I came by the money and now I’ve told you.’ Paul stood up. ‘As I told Dave Burrows when he came to see me.’

  Amelia tried to catch Paul’s eyes. ‘He’s been to see me too. I reckon he’s investigating me. Or at least us. But if you’ve told him how you subdivided the land, that should clear your name, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘I wouldn’t reckon,’ Paul answered, his face grim. ‘The simple fact is that I’m still short on cash flow for the farm operating expenses.’ He shrugged and stared down at Amelia, a sad expression on his face. ‘But whatever happens now, I wish you’d reacted differently last night.’

  ‘I do too.’ Amelia rose and reached for him. ‘How can I make it up to you?’

  He gave a short, sharp laugh. ‘I’m not sure. I’ll have to think about it.’ And with that he turned and walked out, slamming the door, leaving her alone with the terrible fear that she’d completely ruined something precious.

  Chapter 23

  Amelia drove home, took a long hot shower and cried. Then she got dressed and stared at herself in the mirror, suddenly knowing what she had to do.

  It was five o’clock, and the dirty grey clouds that had begun to roll in during the early afternoon had set fast. ‘Opening rains,’ Graham said to Amelia, his fingers crossed, as she headed out the front door.

  ‘Be great, wouldn’t it?’ she called over her shoulder with a smile, knowing how important this rain would be to all the farmers in the area.

  As she got into her mum’s car, the drizzle had just started. Taking a deep breath, she drove out the driveway. To stop her thinking about what she was about to do, she turned up the radio and sang along to the McClymonts’ ‘Going Under’. Then she felt a stab of pain as the lyrics brought Paul to the forefront of her mind. Somehow, somehow, she had to fix things with him. She’d been in the wrong, so it needed to be her who made the first move. But how?

  She flicked on the windscreen wipers to clear the small droplets that had blocked her view, then turned them off again. The drizzle seemed to be just that: nothing more than a sprinkle. Glancing at the still-cloudy sky, she swore under her breath and hoped the rain would get a move on.

  As Amelia drove on, her stomach constricted with fear. She’d told no one of her intentions; she’d decided this was something she needed to do by herself, hoping it might jog her memories and help her heal. No more nightmares would be a good start.

  Squeezing her eyes shut for just a second, Amelia inhaled deeply through her nose, then released the breath and turned her full attention to the road. The spot where she’d been cut off was getting closer. Goosebumps rippled over her skin and whispers began in the back of her mind. The sound of tyres on gravel. The smell of sweat mingled with men’s deodorant. A rush of fiery pain through her body.

  Amelia took her left hand off the wheel and shakily ran it over her hair, which was tied back in a ponytail. ‘Come on, you can do this,’ she muttered. When she glanced in the rear-view mirror, her heart quickened. The road was empty, just a long stretch of bitumen with white lines. But still the thumping wouldn’t subside.

  Pulling off at the place where she’d been attacked, Amelia sat in the car for a long time, listening to the rain patter against the roof, a little heavier now. Finally she cracked open the door and got out. She hadn’t brought her Driza-Bone, she realised. It was quiet save for the raindrops hitting the leaves of the bushes alongside the road. The leaden clouds made the late afternoon dark, and Amelia shivered even though it wasn’t cold.

  She walked off the road to the place on the gravel where she’d been dragged. Bending down, she let her fingers trace the ground, her eyes shut. She could almost feel the burn of the torch they’d shone in her eyes, her hand rising to her face to block it out. Of course, it wasn’t there now.

  Sighing, Amelia sank to her knees, the rain falling on her as though washing her clean. She thought back to the moment when she’d slid into Gus’s ute and started the engine, then remembered everything that had happened while she was driving—the speed of the car, the clink of the coins in the money bags, the taste of Bundy and Coke. She rested her elbows on her knees, her head drooping into her hands, an
d decided not to think at all. The rhythmic sound of the rain settled her nerves.

  After a while she curled up on the ground. The rain was running under her collar and her jeans were soaked, but it didn’t bother her. She tried to put herself in the position that she’d been found in, but placing her hands behind her back pulled at her ribs, so she brought them to the front and let them flop on the gravel.

  She shut her eyes. The drumming of rain. The wetness drenching her body. She didn’t do anything but lie there and immerse herself in the environment.

  Soon she could feel the fingers hard against her neck and hear the popping of the buttons on her shirt. An unfamiliar voice yelled in her face: Where the fuck is the rest of it? She realised she hadn’t felt any skin against hers. The man must have been wearing gloves.

  Don’t do that. The steadiness of another male voice filtered through her mind, but Amelia didn’t move. Don’t do that, she heard again, and with a sharp intake of breath she sat up, clutching at her chest. Paul? That sounded like Paul.

  ‘No,’ her mouth formed the word just as the guilt kicked in. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. She already knew that. But she was convinced she knew that voice! How? She struggled to put a name to it. What the fuck did you do that for? Panicked voices as a car engine started and doors slammed. You weren’t supposed to hurt her! She’s not going to like this.

  Amelia sat there, still and shaking. What had the man meant by that? It didn’t make sense—of course she hadn’t liked being kicked and tasered.

  Unless they were referring to another ‘she’. Another woman. Someone who was working with them.

  Amelia got up and paced the ground, wiping away the water that trickled down her face. Then she hurried to the car, jumped in and gunned the engine, the wheels splashing through puddles as she sped towards Torrica. She had to find Dave, and she knew exactly where to start looking.

  Dave was pleased to be sitting in the roadhouse talking to Kim, instead of staring at his whiteboard or his mountains of paperwork. All the words had seemed as if they were blurring together, and he’d needed some air and company.