The Shearer's Wife Page 8
Jack stared at the phone when he heard the hang-up tone. I’ll catch you tomorrow.
He threw the phone onto the couch, swallowed the rest of his beer in one gulp, then went to the fridge for another.
Dave walked through the beer tent scanning each face. Some he knew and smiled at, others he committed to memory. He was making an assumption that the person he was looking for wasn’t local, and plenty of people in the bar tonight fitted that bill. None jumped out at him as noteworthy or a possible person of interest.
‘Dave, mate, buy you a beer?’ one of the locals asked. ‘Good to see you here.’
‘Thanks, but I’m on duty,’ he answered with a smile and a wink. ‘Next time I see you in the pub, you’re on, though.’
‘Sure thing.’
As he got close to the bar, he stopped and took a few steps back into a dark corner. Zara was there, with three empty wine glasses on the table and her head close to a man he didn’t know. He looked familiar, but Dave couldn’t put his finger on who he was.
Glancing around, he looked for Jack, cursing himself for losing his temper with him, but his senior constable wasn’t in sight.
Strange.
He watched as Zara giggled and wrote a few notes, before looking at the man with a flirty smile on her face.
Shit.
‘But where’s Granny?’
Dave heard the little girl’s voice as he let himself into the house.
Kim sounded tired as she answered. ‘Granny had to go to Adelaide and help some people out. I’ve told you all I know already, Paris.’
‘But when’s she going to be back?’ The voice sounded high and uncertain.
‘Oh, sweetie, I’m not sure. But you can stay with Dave and me until she does. Here, can you stir the cake mixture for me, while I put these biscuits in the oven?’
He put his keys on the sideboard and stood a moment rubbing his temples. A headache was forming.
Somehow, he had to tell this little girl that her grandmother had to go with the police to Adelaide. Or did he?
Dave had always had a policy of honesty. ‘You don’t have to remember the lies if you tell the truth all the time,’ was what he’d always told his two daughters as they were growing up. Especially when they were teenagers. As a policeman talking to victims of crime, he’d had to be honest: ‘No, I don’t know who broke into your house, but we’re working on it.’ ‘Your loved one has been in an accident and they’ve passed away.’
There was no way he could be anything but honest.
Which is why he and Mel had decided to divorce. They had to be truthful, and the truth was, they didn’t love each other anymore. They’d grown apart and Dave’s job had been one of the main reasons that had happened. Mel had been resentful of policing, whereas Kim did nothing but support him.
Kim would have an opinion on what and how much they told Paris, though.
Right, he thought. Here goes.
Striding into the kitchen, he saw Kim standing at the bench with her long curly hair pulled into a topknot. A few strands had escaped and fell around her face. Dave’s heart gave an unexpected thud. She always looked beautiful, but there was something extra special about her tonight.
Smiling, he went over to kiss her. ‘You look good enough to eat,’ he whispered as he pulled her into a hug.
‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ she said.
‘Eewww,’ said Paris as Dave dropped a kiss on Kim’s mouth. He felt her smile under his lips and a surge of desire ran through him.
Kim pulled away quickly and laughed. ‘Come on, Paris, it’s normal for a husband to kiss his wife when he comes home from work.’
‘No one kisses Granny,’ she said, licking the wooden spoon.
Dave laughed at that. ‘Well, she doesn’t have a husband,’ he said.
Paris looked at him. ‘Do you know where Granny is?’
Dave nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’ He glanced across at Kim. ‘She’s in Adelaide.’
‘I know that, but whyyyy?’
Dave stared at Paris. ‘Can I get back to you on that?’ he asked, and Kim gave a little laugh.
‘You sound like you’re talking to Jack, not a six-year-old girl!’ Grabbing the sponge she wiped the bench in wide circles. ‘You might need to try that again.’
‘Not before I talk to you.’ He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the lounge room. ‘We’ll be right back,’ he called to Paris.
‘Dave!’ Kim said in a hushed tone as she looked over her shoulder. ‘What are you doing? We can’t do anything …’
‘As much as I want to throw you onto the couch because you look beautiful tonight, I need to ask you something.’ He stared at her intently. ‘What do we say to this little girl? I mean, how much do we tell her?’
‘I don’t know what’s going on yet, remember?’
After Dave had given a selective rundown of the day’s events, Kim looked at him in disbelief. ‘You’re kidding me?’
‘I wish I was,’ Dave said, the thudding in his temple getting stronger.
Kim was quiet as she took in what he’d said, then she grimaced a little. ‘Essie receiving drugs. That can’t be right.’
‘You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve thought that today. And now Zara’s chasing the story.’
‘What will Zara do now, do you think?’
‘Surprisingly, nothing. I thought she would be following up on any leads, but I saw her at the show tonight.’
‘That doesn’t sound like Zara.’
‘She’ll probably get intel from somewhere else.’
Kim stared. ‘As in, Jack? Surely he wouldn’t …’
‘No. Not a chance. More like Adelaide. She’s got a lot of contacts down there.’
‘So, there’s every chance there will be a story in the paper, and people around Barker are going to know. We have to tell Paris the truth, but not in detail.’ Kim decided quickly. ‘There’s something wrong with all of this, Dave.’
‘You’re telling me. I told Jerry Simms there was no way that Essie would willingly be involved in something to do with drugs, but he wouldn’t listen. They’ve taken her to Adelaide to be arraigned.’ He scratched his head in frustration.
‘Kim?’ Paris called. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’d forgotten how many questions kids ask,’ Kim said. Taking a breath, she said, ‘Coming.’ Then she shook her head at Dave. ‘This is bullshit.’ Without giving him time to answer, she put a smile on her face and went back into the kitchen. Dave followed her.
‘How are you going there, Paris?’ she asked, putting her hand over the little girl’s to help her stir the cake mixture. ‘You’ve done a great job with that. How about I put it in a cake tin now?’
‘Okay.’
‘How was school today, Paris?’ Dave asked, pulling up a bar stool and sitting next to her.
‘Good.’ She didn’t look at him, but watched Kim cut the baking paper to fit the cake tin and then spoon in the mixture.
‘Who’s your teacher?’
‘Mrs Wright.’
Dave tried again. ‘Do you like her?’
Paris shrugged. ‘She’s okay.’
Kim put the cake in the oven. She washed her hands, then sat down on the other side of Paris.
‘Now, sweetie, Dave knows a bit about where Granny is and what’s going on there.’
Paris turned her large blue eyes to Dave. ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘Well, Paris, your Granny has had to go to Adelaide to help the police with some questions they’ve got.’
‘Like, real policemen?’ Her eyes grew larger at the thought.
‘Yep, just like real policemen. She’s going to be there a few days. I’m not sure how long. But I promise you, she’ll be back here as soon as she can be.’ As soon as he said I promise he wished he could take the words back. He knew better than to make promises he wasn’t sure he could keep, especially to a child.
‘What sort of questions?’
Dave drew a
breath. ‘I don’t know exactly what they’re going to ask.’ That was the truth. He looked at Kim for help.
Kim leaned forward and brushed Paris’s hair away from her forehead. ‘Sweetie, the police think that Granny knows about something they’re investigating, so they have to ask her questions. Now, we don’t know if she can help them or not, but that’s why she’s gone to Adelaide. You’re going to stay with us until she comes home.’
Paris sat still, taking all the words in, and Dave couldn’t help but think back to when his daughters Bec and Alice were six. They’d both been smart kids, talkers, and they were used to their dad going to work as a detective. They would have understood. But a child who hadn’t had anything to do with the police before, other than what she’d been taught at school, would have trouble understanding what was going on.
As Paris’s eyes filled with tears, though, he realised she understood one thing: her rock and safety blanket wasn’t coming home tonight.
‘I want Granny,’ she whispered.
‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Kim gathered her into a hug and kissed her head. ‘I’m sure you do, and she wants to be back here with you too, I know that for a fact. But we’re just going to have to wait until she’s able to come home.’ She paused. ‘We’ll find some fun things to do when you’re not at school. I promise.’
Above Paris’s head, Dave and Kim shared a look. Who knew when Essie would be home—if ever.
Creeping into Paris’s bedroom that night, Kim pulled the doona up to her chin and watched the sleeping girl. Paris’s tears were dry on her cheeks now, but occasionally she hiccupped in her sleep.
Kim switched on the night light and pulled the door half shut, before going into her bedroom. Dave was already in bed, reading a book. A couple of beers always helped him relax and he was mostly good at being able to leave work behind when he got into bed. His reading glasses were new and even though they made him look sexy, Kim had to do a double-take every time she saw him wearing them. Kim doubted that in all his fifty-three years he had ever looked as good.
‘Look at you,’ she said with a smile, flopping on the bed and putting her head on his chest.
‘Hmm? What about me?’
‘You and those sexy glasses.’
Dave closed his book and put his arm around her. ‘You find the craziest things attractive,’ he said, kissing her forehead.
‘Don’t be like that. I never said you were crazy,’ she quipped.
Dave chuckled, then sighed. Kim sat up and pulled out the elastic band, letting her hair tumble over her shoulders. She ran her hand through the blonde curls to fluff it up, thinking how much they’d both changed since they first met when they were seventeen.
Dave’s hair was now turning grey, from the dark brown he’d once had. Kim liked to think she was still blonde, but she had a very good relationship with her hairdresser.
Putting her hand on his leg, she asked, ‘What’s really going on?’
He sighed. ‘I talked to Essie before she left, and I couldn’t get anything out of her. This whole thing has something to do with her daughter and she’s frightened that if she says anything, Melissa will get into trouble.’ Tapping his fingers against her thigh in time to the thoughts in his head, Dave looked at her, his blue eyes grave. ‘This charge is serious. She’s going to be up in front of a magistrate, which is why she’s been taken to Adelaide rather than being seen by a JP closer to home. She’ll have to surrender her passport and unless she’s got the money to post bail, she won’t be coming back to Barker any time soon.’
‘Do you know if she’s got the money to do that?’ Kim picked at a thread on the doona cover while she listened, her fear for Essie growing with Dave’s every word. ‘And how will she fare in prison, Dave? She’s an old lady! She must be over sixty. How could they put her in a jail with young women who are up on violent charges? She wouldn’t last a day in there.’
‘Steady on with the “old” bit there, honey. I’m not far off sixty.’ Then Dave shook his head gently. ‘She hasn’t got anything. The house isn’t hers and she hasn’t any family who can post surety for her. Essie hasn’t got anything except Melissa and Paris and what’s in the house.’
Sadness spread through Kim. ‘Do you ever wonder how someone could get to her age and have nobody?’ she asked quietly.
‘Well, obviously she’s had a partner at some point; she has Melissa.’
‘Yeah, she was married to a really nice bloke. I only knew him as Mr Clippers. He died about ten years ago, I think. He was the barber, obviously. I don’t know if she has any other family.’
‘She can’t have. I asked her outright if there was anyone who could help her and she said no.’
‘That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have any other family, though,’ Kim said.
‘True enough,’ he said finally. A slight grin spread across his face. ‘Up to some detective work?’
Kim watched him. ‘What, spying on Essie? I don’t think so! If she’s not owning up to any other family, there’s a reason behind that and we shouldn’t interfere.’ She raised her eyebrows and with a cheeky grin said, ‘I knew someone who didn’t like admitting he had family elsewhere. And there would’ve been a time, I’m pretty sure, he wouldn’t have thanked me if I’d found them and dragged them to his doorstep.’
Dave raised in hands in defeat. ‘No arguments from me. Good thing I had you to change my mind then.’
‘Speaking of, have you talked to your mum lately?’ Kim got off the bed and walked towards the bathroom.
‘Yeah, I spoke to her yesterday. She’s fine.’
‘Good. I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Don’t be too long …’
Chapter 10
Zara took another mouthful of wine and looked at her notes. The words blurred a little and she cursed that she’d had so much to drink already. The noise from the bar was distracting too, but she’d needed a diversion this evening.
She’d wanted to follow the car that had driven off with Essie in it. In fact, she’d rung Lachie to tell him that’s what she was going to do, and he’d told her to stay where she was.
‘If it’s a little granny story, we’ll hear about it soon enough. Can’t think it’s anything big. You’ve got bigger stories to follow where you are. Have you spoken to that shearer yet? And don’t forget about the follow-up with the politicians on the drought policy. It’s all anyone is talking about in Canberra.’
‘Damn it, Lachie, this has got to be bigger than you think. The AFP are involved.’
‘I’m hearing you, I am. But I’ll get one of the others to follow it up from here. You stay put. Get onto the Minister for Agriculture and the bloke for Water as soon as you can. Much more important.’
And so Zara, pissed off with Lachie and Dave, and frustrated that she couldn’t ask Jack any questions, had made her way to the beer tent to find Courtney and Tye. Instead she’d found Jesse Barnett, bought him a beer and was listening to his stories.
‘Right, you and your dad headed to Wilcannia, Jesse?’ she said.
‘Yeah, Dad was mates with the owner up on Palcarinya Station. He loved that country. Never really felt the need to go anywhere once we got there. Just kept to ourselves and worked hard. The station owner’s wife Judy, she took me under her wing, so I had my lessons with her kids.’ He took a sip of his beer and lined the empty glass up next to the previous four. ‘Been real lucky. Dad and me always got looked after. Think there was something about us, you know, just a boy and his father.
‘Anyways, I hung around with Judy and Bob’s kids, sat in the same school room and ate at the same table as all of them. All the while, Dad and Bob, they’d be out getting around the station, checkin’ waters and fencing. They ran five thousand sheep on about twenty thousand hectares. Oh, she used to be a sweet sight when it was shearing time and the blokes would run the sheep in.’
Zara saw through her murky gaze that Jesse’s eyes had glazed over with the memories. He was back watching the stockman and sheep,
and she could observe him without him noticing.
His face is kind, she thought, propping her chin on her palm as she listened to him talk. And so good-looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, trim and taut because of all the shearing. Wonder if he’s got a girlfriend.
‘Used to climb to the top of the windmill to watch. Big mobs, more than a thousand head, moving as one.’ He turned to look at her. ‘You know how you see birds flitting and flying together—they seem to know what direction the next one is going to go in and they glide together?’
‘Oh, yeah, like the flocks of budgies out on the Nullarbor. I’ve seen them. They can almost black out the sky when there’s a lot.’ She leaned into him as she spoke and felt his strong arm against hers.
‘You’re right there, little lady.’ He stopped talking and Zara looked over at him to see why.
His eyes were on her face. Zara noticed the gold fleck beneath his pupil. Other than that, it would be pretty easy to get lost in the darkness of them.
Jack.
A roar of laughter went up from a table nearby. When she glanced over, she realised that one of the blokes sitting around it had led the champion bull out in the grand parade. His cheeks were glowing with alcohol-induced redness. Did her face look like that? She reached up to touch her cheeks, just as Jesse caught her eyes again. Her face was already hot, but when Jesse looked at her like that … like he wanted to kiss her. Well!
‘Um, you were talking about bringing the sheep in,’ Zara said. She had to lick her lips and repeat what she’d said because her mouth had become dry. She snatched up her wine glass and took another sip.
Jesse stayed quiet for a little longer, still watching her, then spoke. ‘From up the top of the windmill, they’d swarm like the mobs of birds one way and the other. The dogs would be running from side to side, keeping them all together. Occasionally one or two would try to break away, but the dogs would have them rounded up before the rest of the mob even knew what happened. I always knew I wanted to work with sheep, when I was watching that. Poetry in motion.