‘Thank you, Lydia, that’s very kind of you.But I’m in no hurry for another horse.’Not when the heartache was just too much.
‘When Finn comes in, we’ll work out a good time to talk.’
‘Um…’ Lydia hesitated.
‘Do you still want to talk to Finn about what you found in the paperwork?’
On the other end of the line, a bell tinkled in the background.It was the bell for the door to the clerk’s office.
‘Red!’Lydia sounded both surprised and strained.‘I’m just on the phone…’ Her voice was muffled, as if she’d covered the speaker.
‘Make up a name, Lydia.Anything,’ called out Amara.‘I’ll talk to you later.’
‘Yes, thank you for your query, Mr Templeton.I look forward to your return call to set a time for the stock inspectors to meet.’
Amara swallowed.‘Okay, be safe, Lydia.I’ll call you soon.’
She hung up, filling with worry for Lydia.Even though he was likely out of range, she sent a text to Finn for advice on how best to approach Lydia, especially as it involved Red.
Right now, she had to keep moving.
She called the horse breeders, who were delighted at the news their horse had been recovered, and sent through the original registration details, along with the original microchip record that didn’t match the altered auction files.But they did send a lot of other images and vet’s certified identification marks to prove Lot 728’s lineage.It was another nail in Sawyer’s coffin.
Then she went in search of coffee and helped Tanisha with the phones and the radio.Working together at the front counter, they managed the roadblocks and closed off any trails in case Sawyer doubled back.
By the time she looked up again, the sunlight slanting through the station windows had shifted to gold.
Hours had passed.
Now she was taking up space in the main room, behind Tanisha’s station at the front counter.Still in her borrowed coveralls, with her bandaged ankle propped up on an A4 paper box.After this, she was never going to have to ask Porter where the reams of paper were for the police station’s printers, again.
She’d dragged the whiteboard out of the Stock Squad’s office, now covered in names, call signs, map grid references, and stock IDs.Finn’s maps were spread over the large rectangular table, while she occupied Porter’s spot, closest to the coffee machine and the front counter to help Tanisha.
The front doors slid open, and a familiar pair of boots stomped heavily inside.Her stomach dropped with every step.
Finn was back.
The security door shut behind him as he stopped, boots scuffed, his shirt still dusty from the chase.His gaze swept the room—whiteboard full, maps unrolled, call logs open, with the satellite feed looping on the monitor.
Amara tried to stand and hide her bandaged ankle while brushing down the heavily wrinkled, borrowed coveralls.
Finn folded his arms, cocked his head at her.‘You redecorate?’He glanced at all the equipment she’d helped Tanisha drag out of the Batcave.Yes, the nickname had stuck, and she didn’t even care.
Amara cleared her throat, already bracing herself for her dressing-down.
Towering, tatted, and muscularly menacing, Finn stepped closer—the man who’d perfected the use of silence like a weapon.
It had her squeezing her hands to not fidget, while holding her breath waiting for his next word.
Then, finally, Finn nodded at the whiteboard and all her charts.‘Where are we at?’
Letting out a sigh of relief, she then gave him a rundown.Short and fast, just the way the man of few words liked it.
‘You set up the roadblocks?’
‘With Tanisha.’
‘Got that plane in the air?’
