The Men In Uniform Collection. Barbara McMahon

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СКАЧАТЬ little brows folded in and he shoved his glasses more firmly onto his nose. Her heart squeezed. It had been a long time since she’d seen him so…engaged. She frowned.

      ‘Go on, Mum…’

      She cleared her throat. ‘We were heading east from the roosting site when we found the roo. So, assuming the yahoos got in through the breach in the fence over here—’ she pointed to the east of WildSprings ‘—we should have passed them after they hit the roo. But we didn’t see them, so where did they go?’

      Leighton stared at the map, his little eyes darting all over it. ‘Could they have hidden anywhere?’

      Adorable. He was taking this so seriously. Romy did the same, focusing on keeping the smile from her face. ‘Not likely. Clint and I would both have noticed tracks running off the road.’

      She sat back and watched her son computing. His little fingers mimicked hers, tracing back and forth over the features of the map, nearly hunched over in concentration trying to solve the puzzle. After an eternity he sat straight and looked at her.

      ‘Do they have to be coming in the hole in the fence?’

      Ah, good boy. Question the variables. The kid was a natural scientist. ‘I guess they could have come through WildSprings’s main entrance—’

      ‘No. I mean…can’t they be going out through the fence?’

      Cold ice washed through Romy as she stared at her brilliant, brilliant son. It was so sensationally obvious.

      It wasn’t a shortcut in; it was a shortcut out.

      Her eyes narrowed. Breaking in was just petty vandalism. Idiots out hooning or showing off for their girlfriends. Someone secretly leaving the exclusive property felt a whole lot more sinister. Romy swivelled the map back towards her and let her eyes run from the breach in the fence, past the roo strike site to the roost site. Then back again.

      Her eyes widened and she kissed the ginger head beside her. ‘Leighton, you’re a genius! Time for bed.’

      His wail was almost comic. ‘But I helped you!’

      ‘Yes, you did. But until you invent a tool to bend time, then it’s still eight o’clock. Bedtime. Scoot.’

      The bright, eager shine in his eyes dulled to a rebellious storm cloud. A storm cloud rapidly preparing to break open. Romy felt the familiar tightening in her chest, the kick in her pulse. It wasn’t the same feeling she used to experience with her father but it was a close cousin. Not fear that she couldn’t control Leighton, but fear that she might. And not in a good way.

      She took a breath and tried to channel Clint. Firm but fair. ‘Twenty minutes of reading once you’re in your pyjamas. Then lights out.’

      The storm didn’t clear, but it didn’t break. He skulked to the base of the stairs.

      ‘And, Leighton?’ she went on as his foot hit the first tread. ‘Thank you. You’ve really, really helped.’

      He didn’t let her off the hook, but his back grew a tad straighter and his footfalls were lighter as he sprinted up the stairs.

      Some of the tension drained from her body. But not all of it.

      She spun the laptop towards herself and fired up her wireless email. The boys from Customs wouldn’t get it until the morning but alerting them to a possible issue required due diligence. Better that they have WildSprings on their radar than not.

      She was two-thirds of the way through detailing the recent incident when her laptop pinged to let her know it had finished loading her incoming mail. She glanced down to see who the new mail was from. There were two. Darren from Police, and Carly from Chicago.

      She flicked open Darren’s first and stared, disbelieving, at the screen. She took a quick trip from relief to disappointment and then finally confusion.

      The 4WD that hit the roo was registered to Clint’s brother. Not some intruder up to no good in the park. Justin. But why hadn’t he spoken up? They had a system for reporting wildlife injuries in WildSprings. It wasn’t as if it was a criminal offence.

      Romy shook her head. She’d be seeing terrorists in the shadows next. Just as well she hadn’t sent off her email full of conspiracy theories to Customs. That could have been embarrassing.

      She deleted the email she’d spent half an hour composing and then opened Carly’s email and started to read.

      Her stomach dropped clean away.

      ‘Romy? What’s going on? Your message sounded urgent.’

      She trembled from more than the cool night air. Adrenaline. Anxiety. How on earth was she going to start this conversation? Knowing what it would do to him.

       Thanks for coming, Clint. Oh, by the way, your brother is officially a criminal. Coffee?

      He frowned and took her hands. ‘You’re shaking. Here, sit down.’

      She pulled them free of his warmth. Letting it soak in was not going to make this any easier. Look how he reacted last time, not prepared for one second to hear a word against his brother. She crossed her arms across her body and stepped past him, towards the door. ‘Can we talk outside, Clint? Leighton’s asleep.’

      He frowned. ‘Sure. Are we planning on getting noisy?’

      That was almost a certainty.

      ‘If this is about the other day—’

      ‘It’s not,’ she whispered, low and shaky. ‘At least, not directly. Please, come outside.’

      On his parents’ little back porch she paced up and down, ordering her thoughts. He watched her closely but didn’t speak. Scenarios played out in high-speed in her mind. Different ways this could go. All of them ended in Clint getting hurt.

      She finally blurted the easiest part of the story, just for somewhere to start. ‘Justin killed that kangaroo.’

      His whole body tensed. His lips thinned. ‘Romy…’

      ‘Hear me out.’ Both her hands shot up and she stepped towards him. ‘I found the vehicle that night at the fundraiser when I twisted my ankle. It was Justin’s. I just got confirmation from Licensing an hour ago.’

      Clint’s jaw clamped as he turned away in the half shadows of the porch light. ‘You’re still on his case?’

      ‘I never was on his case, Clint.’ Her heart thundered. She straightened her back as though it would make the slightest difference against six-four of angry man. This was all so horribly familiar. But she had to keep going. ‘But I am now.’

      ‘Romy, he regrets it. He told me—’

      ‘Will you listen! This has nothing to do with being felt up by your brother. I didn’t even know it was your brother I was looking for when I had the plate number analysed. I was just doing my job.’

      Clint looked sideways at her, his eyes narrowed.

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