‘Maybe someone needs to have a word with him.’
‘I’m not.You can.’
‘Pfft.I don’t have a death wish.But we both know someone who can handle Finn,’ Porter said with a sly grin.‘It might be the brutal medicine he needs.’
Sixteen
Amara wanted to be on the road searching with Craig, or in the air with Stone, scouring the skies.Butno, she had to drive Finn back to the police station to begin the paperwork trail.Stuff she normally lived for and did without complaint.
For once, the deafening silence didn’t bother her, too consumed by her own rage.Until the smell hit her.That sour tang of booze.Steeped into skin and breath, sweating out through Finn’s pores.
Oh, no.
Finn’s scruffy jaw hadn’t seen a razor in days.His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.It was all the signs she knew far too well.And didn’twantto recognise.
Not in him.Not in Detective Sergeant Finn Wilde.
She’d worked with Finn for well over a year—on the road, in roadhouses and outback pubs across the country.He’d never once crossed that line, while continuously teaching her, and with it came truckloads of respect and loyalty for the man.
So, what the hell had changed?
What trauma was he carrying that she hadn’t seen coming?
What’s worse, she’d seen the look Porter gave her boss earlier.That flash of disgust.And disappointment.
Sadly, she felt it, too.
Because right now, when she needed her boss at his best, he was…
She shifted her grip on the steering wheel, her eyes on the road, and her voice as casual as possible.‘Want some water?Or food before we head in?’
She spotted the foil sheet of painkillers she’d left for Finn in the middle console, noting they were half gone already.She tried to remember if she had more in her bag, or if there were some left in her desk drawer that she’d put out for him in the mornings.Maybe she could give him some of those fizzy vitamin tablets he never touched.
He also didn’t answer her question.
And maybe that said enough.
‘When did you find the horse’s brand had been tampered with?’Finn asked.
‘Last night.I went back to the office, and was planning to troll through the branding register, but Porter emailed my images to someone else.’
‘I hope he emailed them to Bree.She’ll tell you if it’s been tampered with.And if I know that woman, she’ll know exactly who the brand belongs to, if it’s from the NT—if not, she’ll be able to find out.’
She glanced at her boss with hope.‘Really?’
Finn nodded.‘We’ll find it.But if that brand shows…’
‘Yeah, I know.I’ll give it back.’She was already preparing for it, when she should have never taken a chance on it in the first place.‘I just hope Lot 728 is okay.’
‘You did name it, Amara.’
She looked at him with wide eyes.‘Sir?’He’d said her name.
‘No one’s here.’He exhaled heavily, to roughly scrub his hand over his face as if waking up from the nightmare of a day, or in his case—weeks.
The front of the Elsie Creek Station was full of cars as she drove past and parked out the back.Finn preferred the rear entrance—and in his state, it was probably for the best.
‘What did you call the horse?’he asked.
