The two men walking towards her drew her eye with their presence. Brandon’s friend was slightly taller, with strawberry blond hair, and they both walked with a lethal grace, alert to everything around them. Brandon spotted her and smiled. “Finished?”
“Yeah, but I need two pack horses to help me carry it all.”
He grinned. “I don’t neigh, but I’ll do in a pinch.” He gestured to his friend. “This is Sam.” To Sam he said, “Amy works at the Ridge.”
Sam’s smile was a little wicked. “Nice to meet you. What do you need?”
She stepped back into the bakery and directed him to take the box of bread. Then she fetched the trolley from where she’d left it in the supermarket. When Brandon saw it he said, “We should have brought the ute.”
“It’ll fit.” She hoped.
It took a bit of creative thinking, but soon the car was full, and she squeezed in the back seat with Sam’s bag and some of the bread. Her little car had never been so overloaded. Brandon drove slowly out of town. “You have any problems?”
“No, not really.”
His eyes met hers in the rear-view mirror. “Explain.”
“I ran into Taylor, the station hand Bill fired last month. He’s been fishing all week and hadn’t heard about your parents. He was pretty shaken.”
Brandon pulled over. “He’s in town?”
“Yeah, I saw him in the supermarket. He said he’s coming to the funeral.”
He dragged his phone out of his pocket and dialled a number. “Dot, Amy just ran into Taylor in town at the supermarket.” He was silent a moment. “He’s going to the funeral.” Brandon stared out the window and then said, “Thanks,” and dropped the phone in the front console of her car.
“Why’d you call Dot?” Amy asked.
“She hasn’t been able to catch up with Taylor.” He pulled back onto the road. “He’s got a potential motive for tampering with the car.”
She shook her head. “You should have seen him. He went as pale as a ghost when he found out.”
“Guilty conscience?” Sam suggested.
She wanted to disagree, but didn’t have the energy for an argument. Taylor had liked Bill and Beth. He wouldn’t do anything so callous.
“Dot can ask him,” Brandon said. “Did you catch where he’s staying?”
“He didn’t mention it. Darcy can probably get you his friends’ numbers. He used to go to regular poker nights. He might even be staying in one of the caravan parks.” There were enough of them. Retribution Bay was a popular tourist destination in winter with those living in the south escaping the cold.
“Dot’s going to call me back,” Brandon said.
Amy stared at the bush passing by. It was far easier to believe some faceless company had tampered with the brakes than to consider it could have been someone she knew. She sighed.
“You OK?” Brandon asked.
It sent a rush of warmth that he was attuned to her feelings. “I will be.” She shifted to look at Sam. “How was your flight?”
“Uneventful. I had a woman next to me bitch about the delay for the first half an hour, but she finally shut up.” He smirked.
“What did you say to her?” Amy asked.
“What makes you think I said anything?” He was innocence personified.
“You seem pleased with yourself.”
“That’s his general demeanour,” Brandon joked and chuckled.
The sound heartened her. She had seen little humour from him, not that the circumstances called for fun, but it was nice to see the spark of humour.
