‘I’ll just drag out all the paperwork for you.’She rummaged through some filing cabinets, then cleared a space on her desk, and showed them through the various documents.‘The thing is, luv, it’s all legit.All of it.If they didn’t pass muster, they wouldn’t be allowed into these yards.’
Amara flipped through the paperwork with a practised eye.
Porter hooked his thumb into his police utility belt, frowning at the neatly typed forms and official stamps that may as well be written in another language.‘Do you understand this paperwork, Montrose?’
Amara nodded, barely looking up as she scanned a declaration, transfer notices, and movement permits.‘I’ve been filling out declarations and waybills since I was a kid at the station.I helped Mum run the station’s office every school holiday.’She hesitated, her fingers tightening on the edge of the page.‘I was supposed to run the office as managing partner when…’
Lydia gave Amara a soft smile, her hands folded over her belly like a mother hen watching over her chicks.‘From what I hear, dear, you keep the Stock Squad’s office running like a well-oiled machine.I bet you were just as sharp with the office paperwork back home, too.’
Porter’s gaze flicked between them, feeling the weight in Amara’s words.He knew the Montrose family station didn’t belong to them anymore.He just didn’t know why.But now wasn’t the time to dig.Instead, he motioned to the paperwork.‘And?’
Amara flipped through paperwork, examining each page.
‘I’ve triple-checked that lot myself.It went through the system the way it’s supposed to.’Lydia tapped a trimmed bare fingernail on the owner-transfer forms.‘If someone tampered with that horse, they did it long before it got here.I’d stake my job on it.But if you tell me what you need, I’ll gladly help you find it.’
Porter gave Lydia a grateful nod.But Amara was well trained to spot flaws with her job.‘Montrose?’
After going through it a second time, Amara exhaled as she set the paperwork down.‘It’s legit.’
Porter might not know much about stock paperwork, but he wasn’t about to stand there like a stunned mullet either.He pointed at a signature scrawled at the bottom of the declaration.‘Who’s SW?’
Lydia leaned over the desk, her brow furrowing.‘SW… Could be a head stockman, an overseer, or a contractor, someone on the station who has the authority to sign the stock over…’ She traced the name with her finger as her expression shifted into something uneasy.‘But the signature for the stock agent?That’s Red’s.He’s on the road out near Heartbreak and won’t be back until the ball.’
Porter frowned at the paperwork.‘So, let me get this right.The papers are…?’
‘Legal.’
‘Bit vague don’t you think?Don’t you have seller’s history?Or is it like buying a used car at an auction,’ Porter said.‘You don’t get the car’s life story—just the rego and the promise it’ll run.’
‘Or doesn’t.’Lydia snorted, as she tapped on the paperwork.‘This one came through Red’s account.He’s listed as the trusted agent, signing on behalf of SW Contracting.’
‘So Red’s the middleman.Like a shopkeeper sells sweets in their store, the stock agents sells stock for commission?’
‘Exactly.Stock agents connect sellers with buyers from livestock, land, crops and even ag-supplies.Which means the paperwork is clean—even if…’ Lydia’s voice trailed off.
Amara didn’t say a word, but Porter caught the way her arms folded tight.
That horse wasn’t clean.Which meant somewhere, someone had faked the trail, and it was Porter’s—or Amara’s job to follow it back to the start.‘Lydia?Can we get a copy of those documents?’
‘Sure.’Lydia headed for the copier.
‘Who is Red?’Amara asked.
‘GradyRedGalloway,’ replied Porter.‘He’s got this big red bushman’s beard.’
Again, Amara shrugged.
‘Red is Lydia’s husband.’Porter pointed to the framed photo on Lydia’s desk.‘Are you sure Red signed off on this?’
Handing over the copies to Amara, Lydia explained, ‘As a stock agent, Red is approved to certify vendor declarations, but—’ She hesitated, her fingers flattening across her desk.
‘What?’Porter pressed.
Lydia’s lips pursed, her mind clearly turning something over as she stared down at the original documents.‘I don’t know who SW is.And, if Red was signing off on their paperwork, that means he may have handled multiple sales for them, too.My poor husband may also be in trouble.’The worry in her voice was real.‘I just can’t have anyone moving dodgy stock.It’ll ruin the reputation of this place.I need to talk to the manager, and to Red.’
Porter gave Lydia’s arm a gentle squeeze.‘How about you bring it to us first, Lydia?Keep the Stock Squad in the loop from here on out with everything.And if I know Finn, he’ll want to know, and he’d tell you that every bit of information you can share with him, no matter how small—it all matters.’
‘Here…’ Amara pulled out a business card.‘That’s got Finn’s numbers and mine on there.’
