‘The livestock auction is on tomorrow, huh?’
‘You’d know, being in the Stock Squad.’
‘What do you mean by that?’Amara stood with hands on hips, pointing that little nose in the air, with her hair pulled back into a tight bun.He’d never seen it down, not even one hair out of place.She’d have to be the only person he knew who ironed her jeans.
Porter ignored her question as he dropped the big man into the front seat.Tucked Finn’s heavy legs inside, then passed the seatbelt through to Amara in the driver’s seat, where she clipped her boss in safely.
‘I’ll follow.’Not that Porter was giving Amara a choice, closing the passenger door on them.The last few times they’d done this, he’d spent a good five minutes debating with her why it was a good idea for him to follow.He’d rather skip that conversation, and leave this dusty car park, thankfully, without having to book anyone tonight.And that made it a good day in his books.
Three
For the third time this week, Amara drove her boss home with a police escort.
Was Porter waiting for her or something?
As she left the pub she’d spotted the annoying Senior Constable Porter—who never ironed his uniform—slacking off, as per usual.Leaning against his police car watching the stockmen behave like boys.
If it was her shift, she would have written a dozen tickets, then arrested them for drunk and disorderly.
But not Porter.
Nooo, he just told them to sleep it off.
‘Was that Porter?’Finn sat higher in the passenger seat, as if jerking himself awake.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘He’s a good cop.’
‘Is he?’Amara didn’t see it.The onlypolicingshe’d ever seen from Porter was the Stock Squad’s prisoner transports, or lurking around the coffee machine in the police station.Porter had to be the laziest policeman she’d ever met.He was a disgrace to the uniform.
‘Porter just got his detective’s ticket.’
‘I heard he cheated on the exams.’The detective exam was a future goal for her own policing career.
‘Porter recently solved a sixty-year-old local cold case that made a lot of people in this town happy.’
‘Local hero, huh?Like Cowboy Craig and Stone?’And you, sir?
Thankfully, no one knew the Montrose name, as this area was as far removed from sheep country as you could ever get.
Even so, in a town this small you’d think they’d bother to notice her—excluding the stockmen full of booze and bad manners daring to annoy her in the pub.
But then again, playing shadow to the big man, Finn Wilde, and the rest of the superstars in the Stock Squad, was it any wonder she was nothing more than their secretary.
But it beat playing a glorified stablehand like she was in her last job.
‘The livestock auctions are on tomorrow, sir.Do you want me to pick you up?’With coffee and, no doubt, a handful of painkillers for the impending hangover.
‘No.I’ll meet you there.’
‘Will Craig and Stone be there?’Their part-time consultants.
‘Craig will be.Not sure on Stone.If he does come, it’ll be to tease you.’Finn chuckled.‘You can give it back, Constable.You have my permission to put Stone in his place, if that’s what you’re waiting for.’
‘Stone doesn’t bother me.’He was like that annoying big brother who would pull at your pigtails and mess up your desk just for the hell of it.
‘Good.’A nod.That’s all he ever gave her,the nod.
