Tanisha peered around from her high perch to check they were alone.Then leaned down and lowered her voice like she was sharing some grand conspiracy theory.‘Well, that’s the good part… Truth is?No one knows who owns it.The last manager retired, and Lydia’s just kept the wheels turning, like always.Rumour has it she was offered the lease, but didn’t take it—so as not to offend Red’s delicate manly ego for earning more money and status than him.’
‘So, thereissomeone.’
‘Sure.Someone’s gotta be paying the land tax on it.’Tanisha just smiled, tapping her cactus mug like it held secrets in the tea leaves.
‘Like a silent owner, counting their cash in the corner?’
‘Exactly.’Tanisha punctuated the word by drawing a diva-worthy exclamation mark in the air.‘Although some reckon the council’s got a hand in it.Others think the train company.Or it’s buried under one of those dodgy shelf companies with a PO box and a lawyer’s signature.’
Porter frowned.‘Wouldn’t that show up on a company search?’
‘Not without a legal reason to dig…’
‘Tanisha?’Elsie Creek may be the kind of place you could bury a secret deep, and no one would ever think to dig it up, but this was Tanisha.‘Come on…’
‘Fine.’She huffed.‘I tried once, nearly gave myself a migraine trying to get a peek at the first trust, but you’ll need a legal team and a crowbar to pry that thing open.’
He leaned back.‘So, no one actually knows?’
Tanisha grinned.‘That’s the fun part.We all pretend someone does—but really?I think whoeverdoesown it is having a damn good laugh watching the rest of us guess.’
Porter leaned back in his chair.‘So, you’re saying Lydia is the boss… without being the boss… because her husband’s got the fragile ego of a damp Weet-Bix?’
Tanisha nearly choked on her tea with laughter spilling out.‘Don’t say that too loud, sweetie.Red likes to think he runs the joint.’
Porter smirked.‘Sure he does.And I’m secretly the Queen of England.’
Tanisha chuckled, but he didn’t follow her into it.
Because the more he thought about it, the less funny it seemed.
Porter had always respected Lydia—hard not to.She ran those stockyards like clockwork, especially on Train Days, which the town depended on for the business.
But finding out Lydia downplayed her role just to keep her husband’s pride intact, that hit differently.
He’d never had much to do with Red.The man wasn’t like the other stock agents, who were always up for a yarn, especially when he’d be cruising along the dirt roads as part of his patrols.
But not Red—he didn’t do the usual back-and-forth about weather or road conditions.Just in and out.And all business.Like he couldn’t be bothered with the bloke behind the badge.
Porter frowned.‘But with that much time in the game, Lydia’s either part of the system or too deep in it to fight back?’Especially if her husband was involved.
Tanisha jumped off her perch, slid into the chair beside him and patted his hand.‘Trust me on this, Porter.Lydia is as honest as they come.Her pet hate is having people steal stock and she takes her job very seriously.She’s also the mother of those yards, and every stockman, station owner, through to truck drivers will all say the same thing.You saw the lengths she went to to help Brodie, to keep him safe from his parents.’
‘I do.I saw Brodie earlier.’
‘How’s he doing?Have the scars healed from all those cigarette burns?’
‘Yeah.He’s happy.Just… he’s—’
‘Go on.’
‘He doesn’t want Lydia to get into trouble.’Porter exhaled slowly.
And Brodie adored the woman who’d saved him.
Porter remembered the day they’d met Brodie, for all the wrong reasons any kid should meet a policeman.But he’d seen the genuine care Lydia had given Brodie, offering once to give him a place to stay, and had enquired about being his foster parent, too.Porter had high hopes for that kid finding a decent home—but it never happened.
Because Red had said no.
