The realisation hit Brandon like a nine-millimetre slug. They were gone which meant they had left the station to someone. “Do you know what was in them?”
Darcy glanced at him as he turned onto the bitumen road. “You mean do I know who they left the station to—no, I don’t.”
“Didn’t they have a safe?”
His brother grunted. “Yeah, but I can’t find the key. I’m hoping it will be on Dad’s keyring, which is why I’m heading to town. The hospital has their personal belongings.”
Brandon stiffened. The bodies would be at the hospital. Did he want to see them? No, he’d seen death before and he’d rather remember his parents alive. “Georgie have any luck with a funeral director?”
“Options aren’t great. Bastard doesn’t want to make two trips to us, so we can go to him, or arrange the details with him via email and then he’ll come up to run the service.”
“What about in Karratha?”
“Same deal. Mum and Dad both wanted to be cremated so at least we can have the service on the station.”
They would have wanted that. “We can probably arrange the details ourselves,” Brandon said. “You’d know what they want.”
Darcy didn’t comment.
Brandon changed the subject. “Where are we at with the sheep?”
“About ready to lamb next month.”
He’d miss it. Shearing had been his favourite season at the Ridge, but lambing had come in a close second, watching the babies toddle unsteadily on their feet, and then prance and leap as their confidence grew.
They drove in silence, the red dirt and scrubby bush flashing past the window with nothing else in sight until they reached the crash site. “Pull over.” Darcy glanced at him and he added, “Please.”
The ute slowed and pulled onto the gravel shoulder. “You’ve got ten minutes,” Darcy said as he turned off the engine.
Brandon nodded and pushed open the door. The soft ticking of the engine as it cooled was the only sound. In the bright light of day the crash was all the more horrific. All the windows were smashed, the white paintwork was scratched and dented and the doors had been cut to get access inside.
Images of his parents bloodied and broken flashed into his mind. Darcy had been the one to find them. He could see Darcy charging to the car, desperately hoping they were still alive. His heart pounded against his ribcage as his steps crunched on the ground. What did he expect to find here? Why was he doing this to himself? Despite the questions, his steps still drew him nearer to the overturned car.
The passenger side had a brown smear. Blood. There must have been a lot of blood.
Images flashed into his head of another time, another place, but also blood everywhere. Sherlock had been hit and blood had painted his hands and clothes. Brandon swallowed and moved around the car. Unlike Brandon’s parents, Sherlock had survived.
The driver’s side was worse. The steering wheel was far too close to the seat and the airbag dust was tinged pink. He shouldn’t be torturing himself this way, but he deserved the pain. This was the last memory he would have of his parents.
A particularly long scrape down the side panel made him frown. It ran horizontal to the ground, but if the car had flipped multiple times, it wouldn’t make a scrape like that. It was reminiscent of a parking accident.
At the sound of cars approaching he headed back to the ute. A police wagon and a hire car pulled up and a policewoman got out of the wagon. Brandon recognised Dorothy Campbell immediately, despite the dozen years since he’d seen her. Her glossy black hair was cut pixie short now, but she still had the wide brown eyes and determined strut of the girl he’d dated in high school. As she neared, he read her badge. Sergeant of Retribution Bay. She must be in charge.
“Hey, Dot.”
“Brandon. Long time, no see. I’m sorry it’s in these circumstances.” She hugged him and then narrowed her eyes. “I hope you haven’t touched anything.”
He shook his head as Darcy got out of the car and joined them. “It’s not as if it’s a crime scene.”
Dot pursed her lips, her eyes flicking to Darcy and back to Brandon.
His instincts went on high alert. “What aren’t you telling me?” The officers from the hire car were already setting up equipment.
“It’s all theory at this stage,” Dot said. “No point upsetting anyone.”
Brandon narrowed his eyes. “I can take it.”
Dot hesitated and then nodded to the road. “Notice anything odd?”
