She didn’t ask for aircon, only rolled down her window, and tightened that bun in her hair.There was no whine about the heat or the corrugations, as she scribbled something down, flipped a page, and kept on reading.
He hated how much he respected that.
Finally, she spoke.
‘SW Rural Contracting,’ she muttered, still scanning the file.‘Ten pages of government-approved dribble that says exactly nothing.You have to give me more,’ she said flatly.‘Unless your plan was to drag me out as a seat warmer to play I-spy on your BS?I’ll get out now and send you a copy of my report from Canberra.’
Figures she’d be thorough.But damn her for being right.
She closed the file with a snap.‘You knew there was nothing in that folder.’
‘Didn’t say it’d have answers.Just said it was a place to start.’
‘It’s not enough,’ she shot back.‘Not with your record and that pardon.’
There it was, that bloody pardon.His get-out-of-jail card that had branded him for life with that one question:How the hell did he get that?
‘Spare me the dance, sweetheart.We both know you were sent out here to shut us down—so don’t pretend otherwise.’His grip on the steering wheel was so tight he might just break the old girl.
‘Fine.I was sent here to shut you down.’No fluff.No lead-in.Just clean truth.
‘Why?’He wasn’t ready to let the squad go.Not now.Not when they were this close to nailing the Stock Agent.And hell, people needed them out here.Surely, they’d proven that by now.
‘No one greenlights a pardon for a violent crim, then hands him a badge and a healthy budget, to run some outback cowboy show.Not with your history.Looking at it from the outside, it reads like a stitched-up back-woods fairy tale with blood on the pages.’
She wasn’t wrong.
That’s what stung the most, he’d bled between the pages of his own story for too long to believe in any fairytale bulldust and their happily-ever-afters.
‘And now that you’re here?’The question left his mouth before he could stop it, when he should’ve been asking himself why her opinion mattered—the woman sent to tear his team apart.
‘I get it,’ she sighed.‘Sort of… I’m looking at this from the outside, and things like that stockyard,’ she added, tossing her thumb behind her, ‘helps to build a picture.But I need more.And not drip-fed junk, either.My patience is running thin, and I’m on a deadline, with my flight to Canberra already booked.Right now, I’ve got enough to shut this whole thing down.’She wasn’t bluffing either.
Damn.
‘How?Based on what?’
‘The paperwork you gave me was just on your expenses.Besides the official reports on the system, you’ve never told me about your cases, your processes, and your wins.Nothing.All you’ve shown me is just a lot of money being spent on overpriced cow—’
His glare cut her off.
But the damage was done.She’d seen enough to make the Stock Squad disappear—and he’d handed her the bloody matchbook to light that fire!
That wasn’t what he’d planned, when he’d been doing his best to avoid her.
Of course he hadn’t explained the wins, the lives changed, the family farms they’d helped, and the numbers in the stock recovered.All he’d done was toss her breadcrumbs in the paperwork like that was enough.
And yet she’d chosen not to pull the plug.
Instead, she’d climbed into his passenger seat chasing answers.
Hold on…
‘There’s more to this,’ he hissed.‘You wouldn’t have dragged this audit out for nearly two weeks unless something else was pushing you.’Whatever it was, it wasn’t orders.And it sure as hell wasn’t some fascination over paperwork.‘Nah, this is personal.I can smell it.Has been since day one.This isn’t just a job for you—it’s revenge.Or justice.Or both.’
She didn’t deny it.
But she didn’t look at him either.
