“You think he’s gone back to Koolaroo?”
“That’s my guess.”
We looked at each other across the cab as we pulled on our headsets.
He started the engine. “It’s a bloody big property, Sapphire, and nobody knows it better than him.”
“He can’t hide forever.”
“You’ll never find Frank Branson on Koolaroo if he doesn’t want to be found.” He lifted the chopper off the ground.
Jesus. I’d gone to Koolaroo to solve a missing persons case. Now I had two murders and a corrupt cop.
And two bodies I’d left behind without calling it in.
Bruce and Wayne were still lying in that house. Their brother, Lyle, and their parents deserved to know what had happened to them. That crime scene needed to be processed properly. Evidence collected, autopsies performed, closure given.
But I couldn’t call it in. Not yet. Not when I didn’t know who to trust.
Bob was corrupt, and I had no idea how deep the corruption went inside the department. What if whoever responded was on his payroll? They could stage the scene, destroy evidence, and make me look guilty of something. I’d been in that house. Touched things with my bare hands. Evidence could be twisted against me. They could use that crime scene to ruin me.
I’d taken photos. Made my own observations. It would have to be enough for now.
But no matter what happened tomorrow, whether I caught Bob and Frank or this whole thing went sideways, I’d call it in. Once I figured out who I could trust.
Maybe Detective Jaxson Callahan from Rosebud Police Station. He’d called about Doug Walker going missing, and he clearly didn’t know Bob before he’d spoken to him. When I’d talked to Jaxson, he’d seemed really pissed off that we wouldn’t help.
Yes. That’s who I’d call.
Bruce and Wayne deserved better than being leverage in my investigation.
Their families deserved the truth. Lyle especially. He was going to be devastated over his brothers’ murders, and I knew exactly how that felt.
I had to do the right thing. Even if it cost me my badge.
But I had a rotten feeling we were just at the beginning of this nightmare.
Chapter 12
Kayden
* * *
As the lights of Winton shrank behind us, the night came down hard like a giant lead blanket. Sapphire sat in the seat beside me with the Chivas box on her lap, and she was quiet as she angled the foolscap notepad toward the console light, trying to read it.
“Can’t figure it out,” she said, scowling and shaking her head.
“You should read that note I looked at,” I said into the headset. “It has some interesting details about Bob that you should know.”
Her face looked gray in this light. Or maybe she was sick to her stomach. Not surprising considering she’d just found out her boss was a fucking asshole.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. I could see her mentally working through it. Maybe she was wondering if handing that box over to my family was the right call. That box of Frank’s notes was evidence, and Sapphire had always wanted to do things by the book. It was one of the things I respected about her, even when it drove me up the wall.
The problem was, doing things by the book was bullshit when the top cop was corrupt.
She let out a long breath, lifted the box lid, pulled out the top page, unfolded it, and read.
After a few beats, she turned to me. “Do you remember a stockman called Bazza Crawford? He lost his leg in a cattle stampede?”
