The Investigator (18 page)

Riley’s heart began a slow, hard thump against his ribcage. Suspicion took hold, but he needed to be sure. He eyed Cannington quizzically and kept his tone even.

“What are you trying to say, Mr Cannington?”

Cannington landed another globule of phlegm on the ground, this time only inches from Riley’s polished boots.

“You city slickers are all the same. You wouldn’t know your arm from your asshole. What the hell do you think I’m tryin’ to say? That wily old coot has been doin’ it for years. He files a police report about a missin’ cow, gets it investigated so it looks all legit and then he claims it on the insurance.”

“If everyone knows about it, why hasn’t someone put an end to it?”

Cannington laughed without humor. “You’re kiddin’ me, right? How long have you been in town, Detective? Obviously not long enough.”

Riley didn’t answer. Cannington shook his grizzled head. “The boys at the station are in on it. Watson used to decide which cow would be the next to go missin’. He didn’t want no doublin’ up. That wouldn’t be good for business. He was gettin’ a cut of the insurance money. I’ve heard he’s passed the reins on to Hannaford, now.”

Riley’s mind whirled. He tried to stem the feeling of déjà vu that flooded his consciousness.
Not again.

Surely, not here in Watervale? The Local Area Commander on the take?

The farmer eyed him curiously. “I can see you’re lookin’ skeptical.” He shrugged and peered into the distance at the mountains now deep in shadows. “Hell, don’t take my word for it. Ask anyone. They’ll all tell ya the same. Those that ain’t in on it, that is.”

His gaze landed back on Riley’s. “I’m surprised you were the one to catch the case, to tell ya the truth. It’s usually Hannaford who follows up Sampson’s complaints. I guess it’s just his way of havin’ a laugh at the expense of the new kid.”

Riley’s head felt as foggy as the mist that had rolled in over the hills. There was a whooshing sound in his ears and he closed his eyes against it. His blood continued to pound. Stumbling, he almost collided with one of the wooden corner posts that supported the milking shed.

“Easy, mate. I didn’t mean to rattle ya cage.” Cannington reached out a steadying hand.

Riley breathed deeply. With an effort, he composed himself and hoped
this
story wouldn’t make the rounds. Just what he needed, more fodder against the rookie detective. The town would never take him seriously.

Cannington peered at him with concern. “You all right?”

Riley grimaced. “Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I’ve been a little ignorant about the caliber of the officers I work with. I had no idea.”

“Don’t go too hard on yourself. It’s not all of ’em. Watson was the main offender. We all thought it would stop when he retired, but instead, he passed the baton onto Hannaford. Probably worth too much money to him.”

Nausea swirled in Riley’s stomach and he pushed it down with an act of will. How could he have thought police corruption would be limited to the city? Worse still, limited to his former command?

To be truly honest, he’d been beyond shocked when he’d discovered his former superior, Detective Inspector Shattler, and some of his cronies had been siphoning off cash found during drug raids. His disbelief had turned to crushing disappointment and disillusionment when he realized no one in the command wanted to know about it. Even those who weren’t on the take hadn’t wanted to get involved and thereby, had effectively condoned it with their silence.

Riley would never forget the day his former partner had come to him and told him to leave it be and forget what he saw and go about his business of locking up the bad guys—if one or two of their colleagues profited as a result, was that really so bad?

Stunned, Riley had been unable to respond. A few days later, Detective Inspector Shattler had called him into his office and had told him he was being transferred to Watervale.

“Why hasn’t anyone done anything about it? Why hasn’t someone reported it to the Ombudsman or Internal Affairs or the Police Integrity Commission?” Riley asked.

Cannington laughed, but the humor failed to reach his eyes. “You have to be kiddin’? We’re talkin’ about the Local Area Commander. Who’s goin’ to have the balls to put
his
name in? We have to live here. If ya don’t have the local law enforcement on side, you’re in a world of hurt. Even a few beers down at The Bullet on a Friday night might become a hassle.”

Riley stared at him in confusion. Cannington shook his head, his lips turning down in disgust. “You city slickers have no idea. Do you know how many miles you traveled to get here? We’re fifteen miles out of town. And there’s plenty of blokes further out than us. How many of ’em do you think call up a cab to take ’em home after they’ve had a few too many?”

Comprehension dawned. Dread settled in the pit of his gut. His skin prickled and his feet felt weighed down by concrete. The cow scam was probably only the tip of the iceberg. The corruption could be rife throughout the entire force. And what did it say about Watson, who, until recently, had been at the helm? Could he really be so deceptive? So completely amoral? And if so, was Kate right?
Was
he behind the disappearance of her mother?

As if he could read Riley’s mind, Cannington cleared his throat and spoke again. “I hear you’ve been talkin’ to people about Rosemary Watson.”

Riley shrugged and remained silent.

“Watervale’s a small town, Detective. Word gets ’round.”

Riley strove to keep his tone casual. “What have you heard?”

“This and that. I heard you paid Commander Watson a visit. Apparently, he was none too happy about it.”

“His stepdaughter’s reported her mother missing. I was merely making enquiries.”

Cannington stepped closer and lowered his voice, although as far as Riley could tell, there was no one else around for miles.

“I’ve never liked that son of a bitch. Corruption aside, I just can’t stand to see the way he treats that girl.”

Riley stilled. “Kate?”

Cannington gave a brief shake of his head. “No, not Kate, although he didn’t seem to have much time for her, either. It’s Rosemary I’m talkin’ about.”

“What do you mean?”

Cannington’s unshaven jaw tightened. “He treats her like shit. That’s what I’m talkin’ about. She’s totally dependent upon him and he never lets her forget it. She ain’t got much money of her own. She has to beg him for everythin’ she needs. If he doesn’t want to give it to her, she just doesn’t get it and he’s one helluva mean son of a bitch.”

“You’ve known her a long time.”

“Yeah, I have. I knew her before she was married.” Cannington looked out across the valley. The sun had dropped behind the mountain, shrouding the land in shadows. His voice was soft when he spoke again. “I met her the first day she arrived in town. I’d never seen such a pretty girl. She took my breath away.”

Rearing back in surprise, Riley worked fast to stem the frantic flow of his thoughts. “You dated her?”

A nostalgic smile tilted Cannington’s lips. “Yeah, I dated her. For a few short weeks, we were almost inseparable. I’d even drawn up plans to modify the farmhouse to make allowances for her wheelchair.”

Riley had to look away from the bleakness in the other man’s eyes. Silence stretched between them. He hated to break it, but he needed to know. “What happened?”

“Watson’s what happened.” The words were spat on the ground, where they lay untouched in the dust.

Riley’s head spun.
Cannington had been in love with Rosemary Watson.
Maybe still was. Did his accusations against the former commander stem from his obvious dislike of the man who’d stolen his girl? Could it be a simple case of jealousy? It wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

Could he dismiss Cannington’s revelations as the unsubstantiated ramblings of a man who’d lost the girl and was now hell bent on revenge? Or was there some truth to his allegations?

An icy wind snaked through the opening of Riley’s jacket and slithered across his neck. Goose bumps broke out on his skin and he pulled his coat tighter around him. The day was closing in. Night came early to Watervale this time of year. Or maybe it was the thought of well-entrenched corruption permeating a Police Service he’d pledged to honor that had him feeling cold to the bone.

Whatever it was, it was time to make his escape. He needed to sort through the tumble-dryer chaos of his thoughts and approach them with a calm and logical eye. Better still, he needed someone else to analyze them. Someone removed from the situation and the beautiful girl with the touching air of vulnerability who’d come home and stirred up a hornet’s nest.

Bidding Cannington a hasty farewell, Riley half walked, half jogged down the steep incline to where he’d left his vehicle. The thin mountain air seemed almost devoid of oxygen and he was grateful when he reached the comfort of his car. He climbed in and started the engine and turned up the heat before reversing out of Cannington’s driveway.

Questions came at him from every direction and he shook his head in confusion, knowing he didn’t have the answers. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles showed white in an effort to stem their trembling.

It was a delayed reaction to the shock he’d received up on the mountain. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm his racing heart.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. He tugged it out, ready to silence the call, but then saw it was Clayton. It was odd how his twin seemed to know when he needed to talk. He pressed the talk button and answered, striving for normal.

“Clayton, how’s it going?”

“What’s wrong, Riles? You sound kind of weird.”

Riley sighed.
So much for normal.
“You’re right, I’ve had a shit of a day.”

“Tell me about it. It’s so damned cold down here it would freeze the balls off a brass monkey.”

Riley nodded in silent commiseration. Clayton lived in Canberra, the nation’s capital. Hundreds of miles south of Watervale, the temperature in winter was more often below zero. The snowfields were an hour away.

“You’re right,” he agreed. I have nothing to complain about up here.”

“So, what’s wrong? It can’t just be the weather.”

“Hang on a minute.” Riley put his foot on the brake and flicked on his indicator, easing the vehicle onto the shoulder of the road. He’d been in Watervale three months and they still hadn’t managed to fit his squad car with a hands-free phone kit. It wouldn’t do his standing in the community any good to be caught talking on the phone, especially while negotiating the tight bends between Cannington’s farm and the station.

He pulled on the park brake and left the ignition running, pumping up the heat before he turned his attention back to their conversation.

“Actually, Clay, I’m glad you called. I’ve just been told the former LAC and his successor are up to their necks in shady dealings. My head’s spinning. I’m feeling sideswiped.”

A low whistle sounded in his ear. “Wow, you sure know how to give your day a lift.”

“Yeah, you can say that again. Question is, what am I going to do about it?”

Clayton sighed into the phone. Riley let the silence stretch between them. It was a comfortable silence, one that didn’t need to be filled with words.

A few moments later, Clayton spoke. “How reliable is your information? Has it come from someone you can trust?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know. It just happens the source of the allegations is also in love with the old boss’ wife and my informant didn’t go to any trouble to hide the fact he’s unhappy about the way she’s been treated.”

“I thought you were working on a missing person’s case?”

“Yeah, I was. Still am. See, it gets better. The woman involved in the love triangle is the same one no one’s heard from for the last month or so. How’s that for giving my day a lift?”

Clayton chuckled. “You always did like a challenge, Riles. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

“Gee, thanks, mate. I knew I could rely on you.”

“No problem, big brother. I’m sure a man of your esteemed years will know what to do.”

Riley choked. “Yeah right, like you can talk. I’m only the older by about two minutes.”

“Three minutes and forty-five seconds, I think Mom said. Every minute counts, Riles. We both know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

Riley tapped a finger to his lips, trying to sort out his scattered thoughts. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I’m consumed by this missing person’s case. I feel like I’m on overload. And now, to be tossed into what looks like a messy IA investigation—Christ, it’s the last thing I need, especially after what happened in Sydney.”

Riley clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late.

“What do you mean, after what happened in Sydney?”

“Um…yeah, forget about it, okay. It’s nothing.”

“You’ve never told me why you transferred to Watervale. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

The care and concern in his twin’s voice clutched at Riley’s heart. For three months, he’d carried the burden alone. It would be good to share it. He prayed Clayton would understand.

“I took offence at what I considered systemic corruption within the ranks of my former command. When I raised my opinions with some of my colleagues, I was told to look the other way. The next day, the LAC told me I’d been transferred to Watervale.”

“
Fuck
! You’re kidding!”

The outrage in Clayton’s voice went a long way to calming Riley’s anxiety.

“Nope.”

“Now it makes sense. I couldn’t for the life of me work out why you’d give up a promising career in the DEA, headquartered in Sydney, for a job in a one-horse town in the boondocks. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Riley sighed. “I didn’t know what to say. I was ashamed. I’d run away with my tail between my legs and hadn’t even offered a whimper of protest. I should have gone to IA. I should have gone to the Police Integrity Commission—
something
. Instead, I scurried off to the bush to hide. And they—they continue to get away with it.”

“Jesus. You sure know how to complicate your life.”