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Where to start his search? The police had already searched the campsite the day after they’d found Wombat’s body. So, if he was going to find anything, it’d most likely be extra-well hidden, or in a place they hadn’t looked already. The police were usually pretty thorough in their searches, but it didn’t mean they were infallible. They’d turned up a handgun hidden beneath the driver’s seat of Brian and Rosie’s truck. And while the weapon had been concealed, they hadn’t gone to any great lengths to hide it. Not like the purpose-built secret lockboxes he’d found beneath the cattle trucks.
Finn stopped in his tracks and tapped his finger to his lips. Come to think of it, the cops carrying out the warrant had done a cursory search of all the vehicles in the camp, but had they done a methodical, inch-by-inch search beneath the chassis of each one, looking for say, an extra muffler, or a secret metal door that might not stand out to a non-mechanically minded officer? He didn’t think so. Finn decided he may well have found his first port of call for his search.
Brian and Rosie’s truck was by far the biggest, an articulated, eighteen-wheeler which they’d converted into both living andstorage quarters. They had a large, canopied area set up so that it extended from the top of the trailer and ran half the length on the outside facing away from the main camp, giving them a covered area where they could sit, and also store boxes of equipment. Finn glanced quickly over his shoulder. No one was around. A cloud of dust marked the spot over near the stabling yards, where everyone was gathering to set out on muster.
Finn sidled around the back corner of their truck. Boxes and other equipment were set up neatly beneath the annex. He tried the door, but it was locked. Unusual. People didn’t tend to lock things out here. There was no point. So why had Brian locked his truck? Finn shouldn’t read too much into it, perhaps Brian was just being ultra-cautious. This might be his only chance to get inside, however, so Finn pulled out his army knife and took out two small pieces of wire. Picking the lock was easy, and the door clicked open after only thirty seconds. Taking one more quick look around, he climbed the step and closed the door behind him. Inside, it was just as neat as the outside. Probably Rosie’s influence, he decided. There was a small galley kitchen, a small table and a bench to sit at, and a double bed at one end that took up half of the space. The rest of the space had been converted to storage, with all sorts of things jammed in behind cupboard doors. Finn opened and closed a couple, finding tinned food and staples in one, plastic containers, cups and plates in another, and a drawer full of different sized screws and other odds and ends. Leather working tools, mechanical tools, spare tire tubes for the ATVs. You name it; it was probably in there somewhere. He pulled out a drawer beneath the small table. It was filled with receipts, paperwork, pens and other stationery. A quick riffle through it all turned up nothing of interest.
Finn wondered how well the police had searched this place. If they’d done it properly, it would’ve taken hours. But they’d done the whole camp in one night, so it seemed unlikely they’d beenparticularly thorough. And Finn certainly didn’t have that much time. He thumped the wall with frustration. How was he ever supposed to find anything in here?
Abandoning the interior, he opened the door a crack and checked outside to make sure no one was around, then relocked and closed the door. Staring at the piles of boxes, Finn wondered if he had time to tackle those. Brian and Rosie would be stupid to keep anything incriminating out here, wouldn’t they? But it wouldn’t be the first time things had been hidden in plain sight. Finn lifted the lid of a large plastic storage box. It contained kitchen items such as a roll of aluminum foil, some plastic wrap, paper towels, small Tupperware.
Nope, nothing in there. But as he replaced the lid, something fluttered to the ground. Leaning over to pick it up, he inspected the small, square Ziplock bag. So small. So insignificant. He recognized it immediately. It was the same type of bag that drug dealers used to distribute a single hit of meth. A chill ran over Finn’s neck. And a heavy feeling of surety settled in his gut. Was this the clue he been looking for?
He stuffed it in his back pocket and made a decision. He needed to get a look underneath the truck.
Lying on his back, he shuffled beneath the chassis, right next to the rear wheel. Remembering where he’d found the secret metal box beneath the cattle truck the other day, he went straight to where the cavity should be beside the rear wheel. And something wasn’t right. Bingo. A large, metal box had been welded into the spot. If you didn’t know what you were looking for, it may well blend in with the rest of the chassis. It was caked in dried mud, and starting to rust, and at a quick glance, it looked like it belonged there. Shuffling over to the other side, Finn found an identical box beside the other wheel. Brian, or whoever had these installed, had evened it up, so they looksymmetrical. Another trick to make it meld with the rest of the undercarriage.
Both boxes were locked, and no amount of pulling would budge them.
Bugger.
Finn decided to go and look for an extra tailpipe. If it was the same crew installing these hidden compartments, then perhaps—
“Finn, where are you?” Dale’s voice echoed around the empty camp.
Shit. Finn went completely still and watched as Dale’s booted feet walked slowly past. Time had got away from him. The last thing he needed was to be caught underneath Brian’s truck.
“One of the drivers just radioed in and said they’re back on the road. They’ll be here in five minutes,” Dale called.
Finn didn’t move, willing Dale to keep walking. Which he did, striding along the side of the truck, then taking off at a tangent, heading back toward the mess tent.
Finn scrambled out the opposite side of the truck and hightailed it into the bush, keeping the truck between him and Dale’s direct line of sight. When he was far enough in, he turned around and stalked back toward the camp, calling out, “I’m here.” He made a show of doing up his zip and fastening his fly, as if he’d just answered the call of nature.
Dale turned and frowned as he caught sight of Finn.
“Good, let’s get the cattle ready.” He beckoned him over and Finn broke into a trot, remembering to brush the dust off his clothes just as Dale turned his back to lead the way to the yards.
He gave Brian’s truck one last, longing look. He needed to get back under there. Soon.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
INDY LAY AWAKE on her camp bed, watching the leaves cast shadowy ripples in the moonlight across the ceiling of her tent. Waiting. Hoping. Everyone else had retired to bed half an hour ago. Would Finn fulfill his promise and come to her tonight?
They’d hardly spoken all day, both of them busy with work. And while Indy hadn’t been actively avoiding him, she was terrified that people would see her response every time he came near. That they’d see the way she lit up when he was around. But the promise in his eyes this morning had kept her going all day. She could get through not speaking to him for all the long, daylight hours, as long as she had the guarantee of spending another delicious night with him.
But Finn had seemed distracted all evening, and she wondered what was going on in his head. Was it something to do with her? Or was it something to do with his undercover job? Had he new information from his supervisor?
Tired of waiting, Indy got up and went to open her flap, peering out into the darkness. The other times Finn had been prowling around the tent, she’d seen him as he slipped through the trees, a ghostly figure. Straining to see through the dark, she could make out nothing that might hint Finn was on his way. Had she read his body language wrong this morning? Or had he simply changed his mind?
A movement caught her eye, just before a figure appeared in front of her. It was all she could do not to let out a scream.
“It’s only me,” he whispered, taking her by the arm.
No wonder she hadn’t seen him. Tonight, he was all dressed in black, reminding her of a fugitive, or a cat burglar.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
He put a finger to her lips and led her back inside her tent. “I’ve got to do something. But I promise I’ll be back soon.”
