Dark Country (17 page)

He nodded in agreement, although he didn’t look forward to the prospect of ‘going over’ things.

A flustered voice calling ‘Just a minute’ answered his knock on Nancy Butler’s door, but it was nearer two minutes before
the outside light flooded the porch and the door opened.

When her red-rimmed eyes focused through the screen door on him, Nancy took a step backwards.

‘What do
you
want?’

He wished he’d pulled the photo out of his jacket before now, because the way she was looking at him, she’d probably think
he was going for a gun.

Anger brewed in him, but he reined it in. Given his reputation and his arrest on suspicion of murder earlier that day – the
whole town would know about that by now – expressing his bitterness wouldn’t do a damned thing to change their attitudes.

‘Mrs Butler,’ he began, using the formal address in an attempt to allay her suspicion. ‘I managed to save a photo of Jeanie
and her husband. I … Could you take it for her?’

He reached for the photo slowly, holding his jacket wide so she could see what he was doing. She inched the screen door open,
took the photo, and yanked it shut again.

‘You got this photo? When? How?’

‘When the sergeant and I were getting her out of her place.’

‘You? But it was Karl who rescued her.’

So, that was how the story was going around. No wonder, since it was Karl who’d carried her away from the fire, making the
perfect picture of a local hero.

‘Karl … helped. When he got there.’ He didn’t downplay the man’s contributions. No doubt Sauer would have walked into the
burning building, too, if necessary.

‘Jeanie will need some money. I’ll give you what cash I’ve got.’ He pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket and found he still
had three hundred dollars left. That would cover some nightdresses, a few clothes, enough to get her by for a couple of days
until he made it to Tamworth, or made other arrangements. He held the notes out to Nancy. ‘Please get her whatever she needs.’

Her lips pursed, the woman took the money, neatening the notes and folding them in half together.

‘You can trust me,’ she said, almost as an accusation, as if she wanted him to know she didn’t entirely trust him.

‘I know I can.’ He spoke the truth. Nancy Butler didn’t like
him
, but her affection for her friend would see to Jeanie’s best interests.

The door shut firmly before he’d finished stepping off the porch.

The thwack of the rotors reverberated in Kris’s head as the helicopter gained height and circled around to head east to Tamworth,
with Jeanie on board.

If anyone asked why her eyes were moist, she’d blame it on the dust blown around by the chopper. But no-one asked. A subdued
mood settled on the paramedics and the SES crew, now that their task was completed. With the fire reduced to embers, and under
the constant watch of the RFS and the police, the danger had passed. From all reports, there wasn’t much left to burn. She
thanked the SES and ambulance crews for their work, and sent them home.

She walked with Beth across the paddock to her place. Neither of them spoke much, but it was peaceful, in a way, to have the
few quiet minutes of space with a friend, where she didn’t have to be in charge. The clear night air and the easy pace eased
her breathing even further.

Ryan waited on the back veranda, taking Beth’s hand as soon as she was in reach. ‘You look bushed, Kris,’ he said. ‘Do you
want to come in for a bit?’

The thought of stopping for a while in undemanding company tempted her, but she regretfully shook her head.

‘Thanks, but I’ve got to go and tell the evacuees at the hall that they can go home. Then get reports written, and the investigation
started.’

She headed down Scrub Road, back towards the police station and the hall. The gravel crunched under her boots, and although
she had too much to do, she didn’t hurry. She had a task that could use this time as she walked.

She flipped open her phone and dialled Bella O’Connell’s number.

She’d first met Bella on a police training course in Sydney, four or five years back, and they’d quickly become friends. Although
Bella worked then as a detective in Tamworth, she’d grown up in Dungirri and knew the area well. When young Jess Sutherland
disappeared after school, one summer afternoon almost two years ago, Kris had recommended to the area commander that Bella
be seconded to the police team.

That investigation had ended in disaster, with Jess murdered, and Bella seriously injured trying to protect a suspect. Yet
she’d returned last year, and at least then the outcome had been positive – to a degree. Beth and Ryan’s little girl, Tanya,
had been rescued, relatively unharmed by her ordeal, but two local men had been murdered, their deaths adding to the toll
of murders and suicides that had traumatised the town since the first abduction.

Kris only thought to check the time as the ringing tone sounded in her ear, realising it was past ten o’clock at the same
moment as Bella answered.

‘Sorry to call you so late, Bella. But something’s happened, and I wanted to let you know before you heard it elsewhere.’

‘Is it Delphi?’ Anxiety clear in her voice, Bella asked after her aunt, who lived a few kilometres out of town. ‘Is something
wrong with her?’

‘Delphi’s fine. It’s Jeanie, Bella. She’s being airlifted to Tamworth hospital. There was an explosion at the café this evening,
and she was injured.’ She explained quickly, giving what details she could about Jeanie’s condition.

‘I’ll call the hospital first thing tomorrow,’ Bella said. ‘But the explosion … what happened? Was it an accident or suspicious?’

Despite Bella’s resignation from the police force to pursue a research career, she still thought like a detective.

‘Highly suspicious,’ Kris answered. ‘Arson squad is on its way.’

‘But who …? Why Jeanie’s place?’

The breeze rustled the leaves in the trees by the creek, and in the moonlight a night bird of some sort flapped across the
road in front of her.

‘It’s a long story, Bella,’ she said after a moment. ‘The short version is that Gil Gillespie came back to town last night,
and inadvertently brought some Sydney mafia trouble with him.’

‘Morgan Gillespie? Des’s son?’

‘Yes. Did you know him?’

‘Not well. I haven’t seen him since I was a teenager. But you need to talk to Alec. I know he met Gillespie in Sydney, had
some dealings with him. And if there’s mafia involved, Alec might be able to advise you. He won’t be home until late tonight,
but I’ll get him to call you in the morning.’

‘Thanks, Bella. Hey, how is everything with you two?’

She could hear the smile in her friend’s voice. ‘Good,’ Bella said. ‘Very, very good.’

Kris grinned at the phone as they finished the call, pleased to hear Bella so content. But she slowed her steps as Bella’s
earlier words came back, her thoughts whirling.
Dealings
. Alec Goddard had had dealings with Gil, in Sydney.

Before his promotion to the Commander’s position on the north coast six months ago, Alec had led a team at State Crime Command
in Sydney, specialising in organised crime. She’d met him – as had Bella – when he’d been appointed to
lead the investigation into Tanya’s abduction. In the harrowing days while they’d searched for the child and hunted a killer,
Alec had earned Kris’s respect – for his investigative skills and leadership of the police team, his interactions with the
broader community, and for his integrity.

But as soon as the Dungirri case was over, and Tanya had been found, he’d been called back to Sydney for another major investigation.
And Kris knew – because she’d followed the news almost as closely as Bella – that he’d wrapped up that case after arresting
two corrupt police officers. The pieces were fitting together. Gil had passed on information about corrupt officers. Alec
had had dealings with Gil. One and one had to equal two.

Yes, she definitely wanted to talk with Alec.

Maybe she’d get more background from him than she had from Joe Petric. Joe had worked with him, before Alec’s promotion, and
while Joe had said today that he’d come across Gil in general enquiries, he’d given no indication of more than that. He might
not have known about Gil’s information – Alec would likely keep the identity of an informant secret, especially in such a
sensitive situation – but Joe had been less than forthcoming about other aspects of the circumstances around Marci’s death.
The lack of information might be no more than a touch of arrogance, a power-playing game to keep the local cops in their place.

But Kris could play that game too to get to the bottom of a crime, and with direct access to Alec Goddard, she intended to
use it.

She turned off Scrub Road to take the short-cut across vacant blocks to the police station. Beyond the station, the hall was
lit up, and between the hall and the creek a group of evacuees were usefully filling in time by erecting the marquee that
had been hired for the ball.

It was mostly the younger guys involved. Sean Barrett, with a few beers under his belt, Karl’s cousins, Luke and Jake, and
the three Dawson boys all cheerfully argued about the process. Melinda Ward and Heidi Sauer resignedly held on to two of the
corner poles as the testosterone flowed, while Angie Butler, mug in hand, propped up a corner of the hall, laughing and trading
friendly insults with the lads.

Kris left them to it, and went inside. A few tables and chairs had been set up at the kitchen end of the large space, and
someone had pulled out the urn and opened the Progress Association’s tea and coffee supplies.

A couple of dozen adults sat around the tables, the majority of them well past their middle years. Most of the younger, fitter
residents were out with the RFS and the SES, like Karl and Paul, and his wife Chloe. Jim Barrett and George Pappas were leading
their assorted grandkids in a noisy game of blindman’s bluff, but they stopped when Kris walked in, leaving Andrew Pappas’s
eldest in charge of the game while they joined the adults to hear the news.

She declined Mark’s offer of a seat. She wouldn’t be here long, and if she sat down, she might never stand up again.

‘Jeanie is safely on the flight to Tamworth,’ she told the group. ‘She’s still unconscious, but her vital signs are reasonable.
We won’t know anything more until at least the morning.’

‘But do you think she’ll be okay?’ Joy Dawson asked.

Kris hesitated. She’d already given more information than the standard police report, but this was a small community, under
pressure, and most of these people had known Jeanie for their entire lives. There’d be talk, and anxious worrying, and it
would be better if it was based on fact, rather than speculation.

So she answered honestly. ‘I don’t know, Joy. She has a head injury, and her heart stopped for a little while. She also probably
inhaled a lot of smoke, and there may be other injuries we don’t know about. It could all be minor, and she might be sitting
up in bed in the morning eating breakfast, or it might not. There’s simply no way any of us can know, at this point. We’re
just going to have to be patient and wait for news.’

She heard footsteps behind her on the wooden floor.

‘Did that bastard Gillespie start the fire?’ Sean Barrett demanded.

She summoned up the energy to turn slowly and pin him with her glare.

‘No, Sean, Gillespie didn’t start the fire,’ she said firmly, to squelch any rumours. ‘He was with me most of the evening.’

A slow, sly grin twisted his mouth. ‘With you, huh?’

The insinuation ignited her temper. Jim and Paul Barrett might be occasionally hot-headed and cagey around authority, but
they both worked hard, and contributed to the community in their own ways, and she could respect them for that. Sean Barrett
was another matter entirely.

She spoke coldly and deliberately, so there could be no misunderstanding of either the facts or her attitude towards his suggestion.
‘Gillespie was voluntarily giving his time to assist with a police investigation.’

She turned away from him to speak to the rest of them. ‘You might not be aware that when we heard the explosion, Morgan Gillespie
ran straight there, going into the burning building to rescue Jeanie, with no thought for his own safety. His actions saved
Jeanie’s life.’