Out in Nowhere, page 5
‘Gotta look after yourself when you’ve got to drive a ten-inch nail,’ Rod joked.
Hallie wanted to throw up at the thought of her father-in-law’s penis and sex life. Seriously, this man lived back in the seventies and eighties. Someone needed to tell him how inappropriate his comments were. That no one spoke like that anymore.
‘Anyhow, you know what it’s like this time of the year. Not much we can do ’cause of the heat. Check the waters, make sure there are no problems and that’s about all. Is there anything I can do to give you a hand, Hallie?’ Danny was sounding uncertain.
‘Ah, if you—’
‘Mmm, mmm. And how’re your parents?’ Rod interrupted. ‘I haven’t heard too much of them recently.’ The shakers th-thunked again against the wooden tabletop.
‘They’ve been holidaying up at the Whitsundays. Due home tomorrow. How’s everything with you and Mrs Donaldson?’ He caught Hallie’s eye. ‘What did you need me to do?’
‘Nothing. I’m fine.’ Hallie put the cup of tea down in front of Rod and forced a smile. There was no point in trying to show up her father-in-law’s manners, he wouldn’t even notice. ‘Did you need some lunch, Rod? We were going to wait until Alex got back from the bore run, but he’s taking his sweet time, so we’ve started.’
‘Too late for lunch, love. By my watch it’s afternoon smoko. Anyhow, Nic fed me a while back. All those cakes and sponges she puts out. No wonder I’m the size I am.’ He patted his stomach. ‘And she wins all those cooking competitions at the ag shows. Not a single person could fault that woman’s scones, ay, Danny?’
Hallie tried not to take his comments as a personal insult. The first batch of scones she’d baked were legendary in Tirranah now. Rod and Nicole joked they could have used them to measure the depth of the house well they’d been so heavy. ‘Or chucked ’em at the dogs when they were in the wrong place in the sheep yards,’ Rod had joked.
‘Mrs Donaldson fed us boys pretty well when we were growing up. Maggie really appreciated the pavlova she brought over on New Year’s Eve,’ Danny said.
‘How is Maggie?’ Hallie asked, with a glance at the sleeping Ruby.
‘No kids on the go yet?’ Rod again interjected. ‘I heard she was going back to work at the council office. Mate, you’ll have to be careful. She should be at home with you, having kids. These modern women …’ His voice trailed off and he shook his head as if he was incredibly disappointed with the female of the species.
Danny cleared his throat and glanced at Hallie, who gave a one-shoulder shrug, despite the tension in her body. She heard Rod’s opinion on what women should and shouldn’t do every time he dropped by. One day he’d even interrupted her recording a podcast with Alex Perry, fashion designer to the stars!
For the interview, Hallie had tried to buy an Alex Perry jacket, even though she knew they were worth thousands of dollars. Alex had frowned at the price, then smiled. ‘I reckon you’d look gorgeous in that,’ he’d said, when she’d showed him the photo.
And, oh, how she’d wanted that single-breasted silk jacket that would have been at home in the boardroom or on the red carpet of the Brownlow Medal. Blue was her colour, too, but … Well, she couldn’t really justify it, even with Alex’s thoughts.
Instead, she’d settled for one she found online in a second-hand designer store.
Rod hadn’t cared about the interview and had barely glanced at the jacket she wore as he’d stuck his head into the office and asked, ‘Any chance of a cuppa, love?’ As if he didn’t know how to boil the kettle himself. Or care about anything so frivolous as a fashion podcast. Which he didn’t. In fact, Hallie doubted Rod even knew she had one, or what a podcast was. If it wasn’t on ABC Radio, it wasn’t worth knowing about.
She’d waved him out of the office, but Rod had kept returning. Finally, she’d had to ask Alex Perry if they could reschedule because something had ‘come up’. Rod had been lucky she hadn’t filled his tea with arsenic, and Alex had had some smoothing over to do that night.
‘Maggie doesn’t have to answer to me, Rod,’ Danny said, leaning back in his chair. ‘She’s my wife, not my slave. If she wants to work in the council office during the week and come home on weekends, that’s her choice and I fully support her. I don’t hold her hostage out here. And really, what the hell is there for her to do so far from anywhere? She likes her work there.’
Rod had put down the salt and pepper shakers now and was turning the cup instead. Th-thunk. Th-thunk.
‘Ah, well, don’t say I didn’t tell you, Daniel. It’s not right when married women are living in town by themselves. Gives the wrong impression, you know.’
The use of Danny’s full name got Hallie’s attention. She smirked and looked over at Danny, raising her eyebrows. You’re in trouble now.
‘All good, Rod,’ Danny answered mildly, half closing his eye in a wink to Hallie. ‘I’ll let Maggie know you were concerned for her.’
Rod took a sip of his tea, oblivious to Danny’s sarcasm, and smacked his lips together. ‘Boiled with little sticks, this cuppa’s that hot,’ he said. ‘Now, where is that son of mine?’
‘I’d like to know that, too,’ Hallie said, her eyes straying to the clock again. ‘Oh, I’ll check the cameras in the office to see if his ute has gone from the bore.’
Danny stood. ‘I can do that for you, Hallie.’
‘No, no. Thanks. It’s okay.’ She smiled, grateful Danny hadn’t mentioned what had happened earlier and appreciative he had also realised she would be nervous to go back into the office.
‘I don’t know why Alex thought it was a good idea to install those cameras. It’s nice to be able to check the waters without leaving the house, but there’s nothing more fertile on a station than a manager’s footsteps.’ Rod’s judgemental tone followed her hesitant steps down the passageway as she checked for anything that moved.
‘You know, Danny, I’ve been out to check tanks, turkey nests, dams, whatever the watering point, and found there’s a wire snapped because a camel has walked through, or I mighta got to shoot a dingo, ’cause I was in the right place at the right time.’
‘Mmm,’ Danny answered.
‘Yeah, you can know there’s water in the tank, but what about all the other things you might get to fix by driving out there? I’m not sure this mod-con stuff is the right direction. Makes young fellas lazy, if you ask me.’
Danny murmured some kind of response, which Hallie imagined was appeasing yet let Rod know that a forward trajectory was inevitable.
She stood in the doorway of the office now, her hands on the door frame, leaning in a little to peer to the left, behind the door, and then to the right. She listened. Hard.
Only the hum of the computer. Her heart had picked up its pace now, yet she wouldn’t let Rod know she didn’t want to walk into that office. If anything, she should be shouting that she’d managed to act just like a farmer’s wife. Like Nicole would have, because she, Hallie, had killed a snake. Shot it, even!
But no, she’d slide inside the office, holding her breath, checking every place on the floor where she put her feet. And check the cameras.
The computer’s screen was black, so she wiggled the mouse to wake it up and clicked through to where the images were split into six different scenes: Rising Water Bore—no guessing how that one got its name; Sandy Bore—again, it wouldn’t take Einstein to work that out …
From the kitchen there was a scraping sound as one of her visitors pushed their chair from the table.
‘Oh.’ Hallie closed her eyes and breathed deeply, opening them as Rod barged into the office, Danny close behind him.
‘Come on, let’s have a look and see what’s going on.’
Hallie stood stock still, not moving. She hadn’t had time to check the darkened corners and see if they were clear. ‘Um …’ Finally, she glanced down and saw a red stain moving across the floor. Only it wasn’t moving, it just looked like it was. ‘Ah …’
‘Out of the way there, Hallie.’ Rod peered at the screen, his finger tracing across each image. ‘Red Dirt Bore. Isn’t that where you said he was headed?’
Hallie didn’t answer. Instead, she cleared her throat and shuffled a few steps out of Rod’s way, trying not to move too quickly.
‘Hallie?’ Rod sounded exasperated.
‘What?’ Her voice was high and strained.
‘Was it Red Dirt Bore that Alex was going to?’
‘Ah, yeah.’ She glanced back at the screen, then at the floor. ‘Red Dirt Bore. But look.’ With shaking hands, Hallie pointed to the screen that so often had a galah peering at them through the camera. Instead of seeing its beak, the bird was perched on the edge of the trough, flapping its wings. That’s how the motion camera must have been flicked into life because there was nothing else moving in the picture.
The trough was full and the tank was nearly overflowing. All but one of the birds from earlier in the day had disappeared to the shade of the tree branches, and the bullbar of Alex’s ute was still in the corner of the frame.
At the bottom of the windmill, way in the distance, lay what looked to be a leg and boot.
CHAPTER 6
‘Oi,’ Dave said as his wife walked past and batted his feet playfully. He wiggled them at Kim and she shook her head in the affectionate but still exasperated way she had perfected over the ten years they had been together.
‘Get those legs off your desk. If Joan sees that, she’ll have a fit!’
‘Yeah, she’s already cleaned your office today,’ Mia called from further inside the police station. ‘Leave any marks and she’ll be chasing you with a duster.’
Detective Dave Burrows looked from one woman to the other as Mia stuck her head through the doorway and winked, then disappeared again.
‘Or she might make you sweep the floor.’ Kim threw Dave a glance that said she wouldn’t mind it if he did a few little things at home. ‘In fact, if you’re keen …’
‘Henpecked,’ he sighed. ‘I’m being henpecked. Has Joan gone home? I’m sure she’ll rescue me.’
‘Ha! Unlikely! She’d be in agreement with us!’ Mia shouted from the back office.
‘Not sure you need rescuing,’ Kim replied. ‘And, yeah, she left as I was arriving. It’s her grandson’s birthday, so she couldn’t stay to celebrate with us.’ Reaching into the basket, she handed Dave an envelope. ‘This came for you today.’
Dave pressed his lips together as he glanced at the letter. The now-familiar writing looped across the front: Detective Dave Burrows, C/- Barker Post Office. This was the second invitation he’d received in the last six months. The first had been an engagement party invite.
‘It’s here.’ Stating the obvious, but the words slipped out before Dave could stop them. ‘Thanks.’ He took the letter and looked at it for a long moment. Opening it in front of Kim might cause her a whole lot of hurt.
Kim was studiously unpacking the picnic she’d brought, giving him the time and space to do with that invitation just as he wished.
‘I gave Joan a card with a gift voucher for little Baxter,’ she was saying. ‘His mum was making the train cake from the Women’s Weekly Birthday Cake book. Baxter wanted five carriages, but Joan said there was only going to be three, one for each year he’d been alive. They were going to use toy ones after that.’
‘Sounds cute,’ Mia called. The door of a locker slammed, and moments later she appeared in the doorway wearing casual clothes. ‘Still, cute and innocent are a farce when it comes to kids.’
Kim laughed. ‘Are you speaking from experience? How did your talk go today?’
‘Ugh! Disastrous.’ Mia put her hands over her eyes.
Dave was still looking at the envelope. Perhaps this needed the band-aid treatment: just rip it off. His firstborn daughter, Bec, had been in contact over six months ago to let him know she was getting married. Hearing her voice for the first time in many, many years had brought a flood of different emotions to him, none of which he had wanted nor, as he’d decided after the phone call, needed to experience. Be easier if Bec hadn’t rung him, especially with what she’d said: ‘We want you to come, Dad, but just you. No one else. I heard you got married?’
‘Melinda and John Bannister along with Carol and David Scott invite David Burrows to the wedding of …’ he read aloud, then he hung his head to hide the heat that had found his cheeks.
‘What?’ Mia asked.
He repeated the words.
‘That’s just rude.’ Mia stared at him before her gaze cut across to Kim.
Kim had been ignored, just as Bec had said she would be. Dave wanted to ring his daughter and demand how dare she be … Well, he couldn’t say ‘just like your mother’, but that’s exactly how Bec was acting. ‘Justin Scott and Rebecca Burrows,’ he finished.
‘What date did they choose?’ Kim asked. She looked over with a smile, seemingly ignoring the fuss around her.
Astonished and yet not surprised at Kim’s response, he answered, ‘August.’
Kim at her very best. Kind, loving, understanding. Selfless. Always thinking of others first and certainly always working out what was best for husband rather than herself.
‘Better book your ticket,’ Kim said. ‘Make sure you go and stay for a week or two, so you’ve got some time with your mum and brother. Maybe you could visit some of your old crew from the Stock Squad. You could go to see Bob in the nursing home.’
Bob Holden was Dave’s old boss from too many years ago.
‘How could she not invite Kim?’ Mia had put down her police-issued belt onto her desk and was taking her gun out of its holster. ‘Where’s the key for the gun cabinet … Don’t worry, I’ve got it.’ She unlocked the steel cabinet and put the revolver in its place before emptying the ammunition from her belt.
‘How was your day, constable?’ Dave asked as he shifted out of Kim’s way. She was now unpacking a basket of cheeses and Mia’s favourite dip—cheese, chive and bacon cob loaf. There was a bottle of what looked suspiciously like champagne underneath the goodies and Dave pretended he hadn’t glimpsed that; if he were in Adelaide or Perth or any other large town, alcohol at a police station would be a serious offence, but out here in the sticks, in a two-officer station, no one would be making a report.
‘Oh, formality,’ Mia teased. ‘Mine was just fine. No problems anywhere, until’—she gave a self-deprecating smile—‘I’m not sure Miss Travenski was that thrilled with the start of my talk. I may have mentioned something about dying as a police officer.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘I know you gave me that gig so you didn’t have to do it, Detective.’
‘Mia!’ Kim’s head shot up. ‘You didn’t.’ A pause. ‘You did.’ Kim sounded resigned now. ‘Those poor children!’
‘Hey, it’s a talk they’ll never forget!’ Mia ran her fingers through her hair and straightened. ‘Still, there are two little girls in that class who are going to come for a ride in the police car with me tomorrow morning, all things being equal.’ Perching on the desk, drooling over the spread, she picked up a piece of toasted bread and dipped it straight into the cob loaf. ‘What’s the occasion?’
‘“What’s the occasion?” she asks,’ Kim said with a small roll of her eyes. ‘Seriously, Mia? You don’t know?’
The mischief faded from Mia’s face and she looked from Kim to Dave and back again. ‘Shit! Have I forgotten someone’s birthday? What’s the date?’ Reaching for the desk calendar, she turned it around, searching for what she might have missed.
‘No, Mia,’ Kim said patiently. ‘Not someone’s birthday.’ Placing three plastic champagne flutes on the desk and extracting the bottle, she handed it to Dave.
‘What have I forgotten?’ Mia asked again, confused.
‘I shouldn’t be opening this here,’ Dave said. ‘Just letting you both know.’ He twisted the top and seconds later the loud ‘pop’ echoed through the office. He emptied the bubbling liquid into the glasses.
The fizz and leaping bubbles caught Mia’s attention for a second until she grabbed more bread and swiped it through the dip. Dave inwardly grinned as he watched his constable’s mind turn over, her thoughts so clearly written on her face. The habit wasn’t a good one for a police officer. The deadpan I have no emotion and if I did you wouldn’t know about it expression was a much better one. Dave had perfected it, although he’d had many years to practise.
‘Well,’ she said slowly, ‘I’m guessing since there’s alcohol involved, you’re not pregnant, Kim!’
Kim coughed and Dave looked horrified.
‘Not a chance,’ Dave answered, handing her a glass. ‘Here. Drink up. I’ll make a detective of you yet.’ His breath caught in his throat. That was something his old partner Bob would have said to him many, many years ago. Bob wasn’t dead yet, but he might as well be, stuck in the nursing home he was in, without any family.
After he’d retired from his position in the police force, handing the top job over to Dave, Bob and his wife Betty had traversed all over Australia in a caravan. Years spent seeing all the sights until one afternoon while they were camped in the Streaky Bay Caravan Park, when Betty had gone for a kip and never woken up again.
Bob had packed up the van, driven home and slowly declined until he couldn’t look after himself anymore.
Dave still thought of him every day and rang him every Sunday afternoon. Not that the phone calls were long. Bob had trouble following in-depth conversations.
His mate had been there from the start of Dave’s marital troubles with Melinda, and would have been elated knowing Bec had been in contact, yet as annoyed about her behaviour as Dave was.
‘Not at my time of life, sweetie,’ Kim answered, recovering. ‘The only babies on my list of priorities these days are ones I can give back. I’ll put you out of your misery. Happy twelve months of being at Barker Police Station! Here’s to another twelve.’ She raised her glass towards Mia.
‘Oh …’ Mia blinked and Dave watched again as she counted back to when she had been given a permanent position at the station. ‘You’re right! Happy anniversary to me!’ Her face cleared and she smiled broadly at them both. ‘I didn’t even realise.’
