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Something deep inside Indy always knew he would never hurt her, but it was good to hear the words come out of his mouth, nonetheless.
He stared at her, his jaw working, the cords of his neck standing out, but he finally seemed to come to some decision.
Sighing, he said, “I’m an undercover cop, okay?”
She stared at him, unbelieving. Of all the schemes and reasons she’d concocted in her head for Finn’s strange behavior, this was not one of them.
A laugh broke free from her throat. “No, you’re not,” she said through her chuckle. “That’s hilarious, Finn. You’re not a cop,” she scoffed, shaking her head.
“I’m glad you think this is all so funny.”
She stopped laughing. Now that she thought about it, Finncouldbe a cop. He was certainly assertive enough. Officious enough. She considered him as she stood there in his jeans and shirt, tall and strapping. Bold enough. Muscular enough. Her mind flitted back to how Finn had taken control at the murder scene.
“Oh, shit.” It was her turn to swear.
“So, you believe me?” he asked, tone mildly mocking.
“If you’re a cop, what are you doing here? In some two-bit, isolated, little out-of-the-way stock camp?” she asked, her mind scrambling to catch up. Nothing ever happened out here. Well, not normally. Not until a man was killed in cold blood this morning.
“We’re investigating an international drug ring. They’re bringing in methamphetamine and transporting it all over Queensland and down into New South Wales. I’m trying to discover how they’re transporting the goods. We had a tip-off that some of the drugs were filtering through these North Queensland stock camps, so I infiltrated Dave and Carrot’s team as a way to get in.”
“You infiltrated them?” she asked softly. Who the hell was this guy? And what was he saying? Drug gangs? Out here in the desert? No way.
“Yes,” he replied, his voice softening. “I’m going to talk to Senior Constable King in a minute and reveal my true identity. I don’t want to, but Wombat’s murder has brought things to a head, and I need to know what the local cops know. Plus, I don’t want one of them getting the wrong idea and locking me up in jail because someone on the mustering crew tells them I’m acting shady.” He smiled at this, but she was still too shocked to reply.
She turned to stare at the camp and then back at the surrounding bushland. In the harsh light of midday in the desert, this all seemed a little surreal.
“Indy, look at me.” He was up in her face again, gaze intense, standing so close she could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers. “You have to promise you won’t tell a soul.” He used a finger to tip her hat back so he could see her face properly. She laid a hand on his chest, perhaps to push him away, but then she looked up, and was snared like a bird in a net by those intelligent, light-blue eyes. “My life is literally now in your hands.”
Indy suddenly understood the huge risk Finn had taken by telling her who he was. And she’d forced him to take such a risk. It was both thrilling and terrifying, all at once. She made a pact with herself that she would keep him safe. Something about Finn—or whatever his name was—reached out to her, spoke to her inner-self. He was good-looking, but it was more than that. It was the person he was inside, principled and unafraid. She’d like to get to know the true Finn better. Speaking of true identities…
“What’s your real name, then?” she demanded. She deserved to know that much, at least.
“Griffin Carmody,” he replied.
Ah, so not Finn Stevenson, after all. “But Finn is a derivative of Griffin, isn’t it?” she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.
“Yes, but I’m known as Griff in the real world. Hardly anyone calls me Finn, so it seemed like a safe bet.”
That made sense. Indy mulled his name over in her head. There were so many things she wanted to know about the real Finn. Then he shifted slightly, and she remembered she still had her hand on his chest. Could feel the contours of his muscular pecs beneath her fingers. Was breathing in his musky scent. Suddenly, she dared not meet his gaze, but instead watched thetanned skin of his throat as he swallowed. A buzz of anticipation hung between them, and she was unable to break away. As if some kind of force kept them suspended together. The few times Finn had tried to touch her, she’d pulled away, and now she knew it was because she was afraid of this electric reaction each time they came in contact.
His hand came up to cover hers. “I know we’ve only worked together for a few days, but I believe I can trust you, Indy.”
She was suddenly struck dumb. By his words, by his trust in her, by his presence. She tilted her head back and looked up into his face. Then wet her lips, which were suddenly dry. His eyes traced her mouth, watching as she sucked in a breath. Was he just as affected as she was by whatever was humming between them?
He deserved an answer, but it was hard to form the words in her dry mouth. “I promise, your secret is safe with me,” she murmured.
“Thank you.” Finn closed his eyes for a moment, and Indy suddenly realized how much on edge he’d been waiting for her answer. As if she could’ve promised anything else. “We need to get back to camp before we’re missed,” he added softly.
“Oh, yes. Right.” Indy gathered herself and took a step back, pulling the brim of her hat firmly back into place. They walked quickly side by side through the bush in silence. She had so many questions, but they’d all have to wait. He was correct. The last thing they needed was for someone to notice they were missing. That might make them number one suspects in this murder.
At the edge of the camp, they separated without a word, each knowing instinctively they shouldn’t be seen together. Indy headed for her tent, which was set up slightly away from the rest of the camp in the shade of a large gum, so she could keep her dogs away from everyone. Quickly untying both dogs, shesauntered back into the camp. She could pretend she’d been filling their water bowls, if anyone asked.
Seating herself unobtrusively around the fire, she told the dogs to lie down and be quiet. They both obeyed, delighted to be allowed into the main camp. Most of the crew were seated around the fire and the conversation still encompassed Wombat and how he’d ended up in the ravine.
Indy relaxed into her chair. It didn’t seem like she’d been missed.
Then Bindi banged the bottom of a large metal saucepan, the sign lunch was ready, and everyone surged forward, glad of something to take their minds off their confronting morning. Large piles of cold cuts, cheese, and salad adorned the table, as well as hunks of homemade bread on a platter, all of it awaiting the ravenous horde. Indy was glad she’d made it back just in time. Grabbing a plate from the stack, she joined the line of hungry people, catching sight of Finn as he slipped around the side of the tent and took his place at the end of the line. Did he look different somehow? Now she knew the truth? She made a concerted effort not to look in his direction for the rest of lunchtime.
