Dark Country (12 page)

His steps slowed as he approached the Truck Stop. The teenage girl.
Megan
. Another complication. He still couldn’t get his head around her existence, his brain constantly shying away from the ‘d’
word.

He paused on the driveway, his hesitation not so much because he didn’t want to see her, more that he didn’t want to be seen
with
her. Someone might notice the resemblance, and it had to be far better for her if she never knew who he was. He’d set up
a financial arrangement with Jeanie so that the kid wouldn’t ever need for money, but other than that he’d steer clear of
her. He’d made the decision on his walk this morning, and the day’s events had only confirmed the sense of it.

A couple of empty cattle trucks were parked out front, and through the brightly lit café windows he saw it was Jeanie, not
the girl, taking drinks to the drivers’ table. They were the only customers.

He waited until she returned to the kitchen, then pushed the door open and went inside. The truck drivers gave him a couple
of seconds of attention, but he didn’t recognise them, and their interest passed after he gave them a curt nod.

Jeanie turned a couple of steaks on the grill, lifted a basket of chips out of the deep-fryer and propped it to drain before
she saw him.

‘Gil! Thank God. Come on through.’

In the once-familiar kitchen, he dropped his bag near the back door out of Jeanie’s way while she was cooking. She was reaching
for a new can of pineapple, from a shelf almost too high for her, and he leaned over and got it for her.

‘Thank you, Gil,’ she said, with the same warm, sincere smile that had gentled the wild kid he’d once been. Even after all
these years, her simple gratitude still had the power to affect him, with an unsettling mix of pride in her approval and fear
he’d disappoint her. Whatever was decent in him he owed mostly to Jeanie.

Busy putting together side salads, she cast a cautious glance across at the two diners and lowered her voice. ‘I was worried
about you. I phoned Kris a few times, but she wasn’t allowed to tell me much. The woman – she was someone you knew?’

‘It was Marci Doonan.’

Jeanie knew enough of his history to recognise the name. ‘Oh, Gil, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful. And then to be
arrested like that …’

‘It’s okay, Jeanie. They released me a couple of hours ago. The sergeant gave me a lift back.’ Keen to avoid discussing things
any further, he switched subject. ‘Is that offer of the cabin still open?’

She shot him a sharp look, but didn’t ask any questions. ‘Absolutely. I’ve cleaned it out, and it’s ready for you. The key’s
in the door.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.’

‘Take your stuff out the back. The grill’s hot – would you like a steak for dinner?’

His stomach threatened to rumble. The sandwich Macklin had brought him at lunchtime seemed a long time ago.

‘I can’t stay just now. I have to go back up to the station. The sergeant … there was some trouble on the way back. Some bastard
tried to run her down.’ He heard the roar of the engine
again, the sound of her hitting her car, and swallowed hard, dragging his concentration back to the present.

‘She’s hurt?’ Jeanie’s hands were already reaching for her apron ties, ready to whisk it off to go and help.

‘Minor scrapes, nothing major. Beth Fletcher … Wilson,’ he corrected himself, ‘is with her at the moment. But she needs my
witness statement.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’

He almost said ‘no’, then remembered the state of Kris’s fridge. ‘Does she eat takeaway?’

Jeanie’s frayed smile didn’t erase the worry in her eyes. ‘Works burger. She reckons it’s almost healthy.’

‘Better make it two, then. I’ll go and put my bag in the cabin.’

She had the burgers and onion on the grill before he was out the back door.

The cabin was a portable job of the kind used for accommodation in mining camps and the like. Two small rooms, each with a
couple of single beds, on either side of a basic bathroom. It had been beside the Truck Stop, up against the fence, for as
long as Gil could remember. Back when he’d worked there in his teens, it had only had occasional use – a family stranded by
a car breakdown, an old guy wandering the roads on his bicycle seeking better shelter than his tent during rainy weather.
People who, for various reasons, didn’t want to stay in the pub across the road. Like himself. The bloke at the pub would
probably throw him out if he showed his face in there again.

He left his bag on the floor, between the beds. There wasn’t a lot of room to move, but the cabin would do fine for overnight.
Outside, although the wind had dropped a little the air was still cool, and he pulled his jacket on. The branches of a large
kurrajong tree in front of the cabin stretched over a wooden picnic table and bench, and he brushed a scattering of dead leaves
off the bench and sat down, drawing in a few slow breaths of the fresh night air. So different from Sydney, out here in the
dark. Only small sounds drifted, each distinct in the stillness – some eighties rock song playing on the jukebox from the
pub; a vehicle a block or two away; a dog barking somewhere beyond the creek.

Jeanie would be a few minutes making the burgers, so he dug for his phone in his jacket pocket, and called Liam.

He didn’t beat around the bush when his offsider answered. ‘Marci’s dead,’ he said bluntly. ‘Her body was in my car this morning.
A couple of Sydney detectives turned up with a search warrant and found her there.’

There was stunned silence for a long moment, then, ‘Holy shit. How? Who would …?’

‘I don’t know who, yet. As for how … it looked pretty bad. Not quick.’ His throat thickened and the words stalled.

‘Jesus.’

Gil heard Deb’s worried query in the background, and Liam relayed the news.

‘You left Sydney last night?’ Gil asked, when Deb had finished swearing. ‘Are you at that eco-resort? North of Maitland, isn’t
it?’

‘Yes. We stayed in Maitland overnight, came the rest of the way this morning.’

‘Good.’ That put them an hour or two closer than Sydney, though still a long way away. ‘Can you drive up and get me tomorrow?
The forensic mob have taken my car.’

‘Sure. Where are you?’

‘Town called Dungirri. Northwest of the state, past Narrabri. You’ll need a fair chunk of the day to get here.’

‘But how did Marci …? You didn’t take her up there.’

It was statement more than question. Liam knew him, knew there was bugger-all chance he’d spend any more time with Marci than
necessary.

‘No. I saw her yesterday morning at her place. But someone got to her after that, and must have tracked me somehow, and put
her body in my boot during the night.’

‘What do the cops think?’

‘They arrested me this morning.’ He hated even saying the words, kept it to a bare minumum. ‘But they released me this afternoon.
They’ve gone back to Sydney.’

‘The guys who leaned on Deb yesterday wanted to know where you were,’ Liam told him. ‘My neighbour said I had visitors, too,
but I didn’t come home till late. Sounds like someone’s out to get you.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know. Better bring Deb with you tomorrow. She can share the driving, and I’d rather neither of
you were alone. I’m staying at the Truck Stop. You won’t have trouble finding it.’

As he finished the call, his brain rapidly put a plan together. He’d go to Moree with Liam and Deb tomorrow, and buy a new
car there. Then he’d send them on to somewhere right out of the
way, maybe into Queensland, so he could go back to Sydney, find out who was screwing with him, and deal with it.

Yeah, that was definitely the plan.

He locked the door of the cabin and headed back over to the kitchen. The cooking smells of meat, bacon and eggs kick-started
his hunger. Piling the layers of the burgers together with the speed and dexterity of years of practice, Jeanie tilted her
head in the direction of the drinks fridge.

‘Help yourself. Kris has apple juice.’

By the time he’d selected a couple of bottles of juice, she’d wrapped and bagged the burgers.

‘Tell Kris if there’s anything she needs, she just has to call.’

She refused the twenty-dollar note he held out to her. He didn’t argue with her, just went over behind the counter, studied
the cash register for a moment to work out the system, and then rang up a sale and put the money in the drawer.

She objected, of course, but he overrode her. ‘I’m not freeloading off you, Jeanie.’

He glanced at the security monitor behind the register, and stopped still. The screen, divided into four sections, showed
an image every second or so of the fuel pumps out front, the counter, the café, and the diesel pump to the side of the building
– with the side street beyond and the hotel hazy in the background.

‘Do you leave the security cameras running all night?’

‘Yes. The fuel pumps are turned off at night, of course, but there were a couple of break-ins a few months back, as well as
people driving off without paying, which is why I decided to put the system in.’

‘Is this recorded? Do you have last night’s footage?’

‘It’s recorded onto the computer in the office. The young man from the security firm in Moree left some instructions on how
to access it, but the only time I needed to, I couldn’t work it out. I had to get Adam to help.’

He resisted the temptation to go and look at the footage now. Far better if a police officer did it, following whatever rules
they had about possible evidence.

‘I’ll see if Adam can come and take a look later, Jeanie. Just in case the camera on the diesel pumps picked up anything on
the road. It’s not in focus, but we might be able to get something off it.’

As he walked up towards the police station, he didn’t let his hopes rise far. On the screen, the road beyond the immediate
focus area was indistinct. In the dark there’d probably be little that was discernible. But if there was something, anything,
that would show evidence of who had dumped Marci in his vehicle, it could help the investigation and go towards clearing his
name.

As long as he stayed out of jail, he didn’t care what most people thought of him – except for a few. Jeanie’s loyalty and
faith in him hadn’t come as a surprise, but the sergeant had to have her doubts about him. No matter what she’d said, no matter
that she’d trusted him enough to risk offering a ride, she couldn’t be a hundred per cent certain. He wanted her to be certain.
He had bugger-all chance of earning either her approval or her respect, yet he wanted her to be convinced of his innocence
in Marci’s death. Some part of him argued that it was simply because he’d caused her enough worry she didn’t
need, on top of the load she already carried. Beneath the logic, he knew that was only part of the truth, but his thoughts
shied uneasily away from acknowledging it.

The moon, close to full, provided enough light for him to avoid the main street, so to dodge the crowd at the hall he took
the back way, turning up the side road and cutting across the empty paddock along the creek to reach the residence behind
the police station.

Kris was on the doorstep, saying goodbye to Beth. She’d changed out of her uniform. In contrast to the masculine lines of
her police shirt and trousers, the cream colour of the knitted Aran cardigan she wore over her jeans was softer, more feminine.
Beautiful, with her red hair falling loose around her face.
Vulnerable
. The reminder of it twisted in his guts.

What if the idiot who’d tried to run her down had shown up last night, instead? When she’d been alone, without radio or phone,
her car useless in the ditch. Or what if someone wanted to break into her place, do her harm? Her backyard extended to the
creek, the fence that had once provided some privacy and security was no longer there. A couple of large eucalypts and some
wattles created plentiful shadows. And he knew from using it this morning that although her back door had a deadlock, it had
no peephole, and a deadlock was no use if she opened the door to anyone who knocked, which she probably did.

She was too dedicated, and that dedication put her at risk every day. If the psycho who’d murdered the kid had targeted her,
she could have been killed, just like the others. That guy
was gone, but there were plenty more murderers and thugs out there in the world, too ready to turn cop-killer.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it – except leave town as soon as possible, and reduce the risk by keeping the bastards
who were after him well away from her.

Good. He’d come back. He’d said he would, but Kris hadn’t been overly confident. He waited in the shadows a few metres away
while Beth gave her last-minute instructions and said goodbye, returning her smile with a polite nod as she passed him.

The rich scent of grilled meat and onions wafted in the night air.

‘Food.’ He stepped into the broader circle of light and handed Kris a paper bag. ‘Since you probably didn’t fill up your fridge
today.’

She guessed the contents from its weight and warmth in her hand and her mouth watered. ‘Do I have you or Jeanie to thank for
this?’

‘Jeanie made them.’

Another evasive answer – so, he obviously had some responsibility for either the idea or its execution.

‘Thanks to you both. I’m ravenous. Come on in.’

It was impossible to eat one of Jeanie’s piled-high burgers with any degree of decorum, so she wouldn’t try. She put out plates
on the kitchen table, and tore a few large sheets off a roll of paper towel to serve as napkins.

‘Eat while it’s hot,’ she told Gil. ‘Then we can talk.’

Strange to be sitting here, eating with Gil, the silence not exactly relaxed, but not uncomfortable, either.

Despite being there by choice, he still carried a degree of wariness, tension in his body, in his silence. After they’d eaten,
she’d probably have to work to dig through his layers of secrets and complexities. Yet she had a strong sense that the little
he’d told her so far was the truth. No wild stories, no contrived explanations, just some bare, basic facts. Maybe that’s
why she trusted him. And that highlighted the whole skewed nature of the situation; basically she trusted him – an ex-con
with a dead body in his boot and questionable connections – and he didn’t trust her, a police officer.