‘And the others?’
‘They just rock up.And someone lets ‘em in.’
‘Who?’
Brodie bit on his lip.‘Stock agents do.’
‘Did you recognise the car that brought in that horse?’
Again, Brodie shook his head, taking a step back from her.‘All I know is it’s big, not a ute and not a truck, like somethin’ in between.’
Porter tapped out something on his phone, then flipped it around.‘Was it something like this, mate?’
Amara peeked over to look at his phone’s screen with Brodie.
‘Yeah, like that.Only a red one.I think it was red.Or dark red, kinda maroon maybe, coz it was dark.Hey, what kind of ute is that?’
‘A Dodge Ram.’
Amara’s heart started pounding quicker.Craig had said they’d found tyre tracks near Porter’s place, and from the tread shape, wheel spacing, and the way the vehicle had taken the corner, he’d narrowed it down to the type they were looking for.The Ram.
‘Thanks, Brodie.You’ve been a big help.’Porter pulled out his wallet and stashed some cash down Brodie’s top pocket.‘You should buy yourself some new jeans or something.’
‘Why?The good clobber will only get ruined out ‘ere if I do.Not like I’m gonna go to the ball or anything,’ he said, wiping down his dirty shirt.‘You?’
‘Nah, I’ll be on patrol.But if you ever see that Ram come in to town again, I want you to call me, okay?’
‘Or me.I mean,us.We live at the same house—’
‘I heard.’Brodie’s eyebrows bobbed up and down with his cheesy grin.‘Got the town’s tongues wagging, and Tess at the post office all grumbling.’
Hell’s bells.One thing Amara hated was being the talk of the town.Two, she would never lower herself to get into some petty catfight over a guy.Three… there was no three, or threesomes, and certainly no tricky three-way love triangles.‘We’re just friends, Brodie.’
‘Really?So I’ve still got a shot, huh?’The kid brushed down his grubby shirt while puffing out his skinny chest.
Amara was too stunned to know what to say.
Porter let out a low chuckle, as if sharing an inside joke with Brodie.‘Mate, if you’re gonna have a go, at least clean the horse crap off your boots first.Montrose has standards.’
Brodie smirked.‘So you’re saying I’ve got a chance?’
Porter patted his shoulder, dead serious.‘I’ll help you shop for a tie, because I don’t have any to lend.I don’t even own a suit.’
‘I doubt he owns an iron,’ she said, flicking a finger at Porter’s uniform while rolling her eyes.But she couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips.‘You two should go to the ball together.It’d be a laugh-a-minute with you two on the dance floor.’
Brodie chuckled, as he wiped his hands again on his already-filthy shirt.Only for his smile to fall.‘The Ironbark Ball… I heard someone say it’s where the deals are gonna happen.’
‘Like what?’Porter asked.
‘Like some off-the-books catalogue inspection, I heard someone say.Don’t ask me who.Like I said, at night, round here, voices carry.’
Porter gave Amara a small nod, as if telling her to take point on this one.After all, this was her job.
She stepped in closer, her voice soft, her hand even softer on Brodie’s arm as she leaned down to get eye level with him.‘Exactlywhat did they say about the ball?Word for word, Brodie.Can you remember?’
Brodie gave a nod.‘One of ‘em said that the Ironbark Ball was gonna bea smugglers’ meet-and-greet.’
She looked to Porter.‘We need to find Finn.’
