Page 64 of Rough Stock

Izzy twisted her face in horror at the thought of someone profiting off another’s pain like that. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘Wraith has just turned six. He’s about to start his prime years. And everyone who’s in the rodeo game knows this. It was enough to catch the attention of that mob who wanted a piece of Wraith and those two heifers.’ Dane nodded at the cryogenic canister.

‘Who arethey?’ It was the question that had gotten her into trouble in the first place—the one she’d never been able to answer. Who was the face behind Everlight Energy Solutions? Dane might not say it, or he may not know, but for Izzy, it was all connected somehow.

Dane narrowed his eyes at her for a long moment. ‘You’re a smart cookie. Too smart for the likes of someone like Cowboy Craig. He’s a cocky bastard, that one. But, to be fair, he’s a bloody good stockman. Yet I wouldn’t trust him with my wife, or my sister, for that matter.’

She rolled her eyes.

Dane chuckled. ‘I guess you already knew that, huh?’

She shrugged, gathering up a handful of hay and started sorting them out by lengths, hoping to keep busy.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. ‘So, you came here to hide, huh?’

‘It didn’t work, did it.’ Her cage, with its thick iron bars, sat firmly bolted to the back of a truck, along with that big ugly padlock securely in place, leaving her with no way out. ‘I’m stuck here for a bit, aren’t I?’

‘Yeah, miss, you are.’ He then adjusted his well-worn stockman’s hat, the way a man in a suit would adjust their tie before sharing bad news. ‘But that’s not the worst of it.’

She swallowed hard. ‘What could be worse than this?’

‘I’m sorry to tell you, but I’ll be transporting those calves inside your cage, and I plan to hit the road soon after sunset. And so is Renzo. He’ll be going back to Sydney, now he’s found you.’

Twenty-two

‘Right, this is what we’ll do…’ Finn used a stick and drew an outline of Everlight’s shed in the crusty red soil, where they’d huddled behind a large group of ant mounds. The shed stood less than a hundred metres away as the Stock Squad gathered to hear Finn’s plan.

‘I can—’

‘Stone. I know everyone’s strengths and weaknesses here and how to use them to our advantage. It’s what makes me the boss.’ Finn thumbed at his bulletproof vest with FEDERAL POLICE emblazoned across the back, with his two handguns strapped in their side holsters. ‘Got it?’

‘Got it.’ Stone gave no cheeky smile, but a clear nod of compliance, as he crouched down beside Craig.

Itching to get into that shed, Craig had already copped the same lecture from Finn about doing foolish things that could do Izzy more harm than good. Finn was a professional, and Craig had to trust Finn with this. ‘I want Izzy.’

‘I know. And she’ll be our number one priority, but we need to do this so she’s safe. Constable, where is Izzy inside that shed?’

Amara lowered her binoculars and crept closer to their huddle, also wearing her bulletproof vest over her South Australia police uniform. Only Craig and Stone weren’t. It was a reminder of how dangerous this was.

‘They have Izzy inside the portable livestock crate, secured to the back of the flatbed truck, here…’ In the dirt, Amara drew within the shed’s outline. ‘The guy with the handgun strapped to his chest, has the key to the padlock with him, wearing it around his neck while he’s taking a shower at the back here.’ Again, she drew on their dirt map.

‘Where’s Dane? Fiftyish. Wears a stockman’s hat, like mine.’ Craig tapped the brim of his hat.

‘Inside, guarding Izzy. Seated by her cage, here.’ Amara drew another mark in the dirt. ‘And all of the stolen livestock are here in these three pens.’

‘I’ve got bolt cutters in my kit for the padlock. Constable…’

‘On it, sir.’ Amara unzipped the heavy pack full of tools, ropes, and other assorted equipment. It was enough for Stone and Craig to share a raised eyebrow at each other.

‘Do I get a gun?’ Stone pointed at Craig with his rifle.

‘Are you licenced?’ Amara mumbled, dragging out the heavy tool.

‘Stone the crows, I’m taking a knife to a gunfight.’ Stone dramatically rolled his eyes. ‘What about one of them fancy vests? I feel so underdressed.’

‘We’ve ordered one for you and Craig,’ replied Amara. ‘Craig, you’ll need to do a firearms course—’

‘Not today, I’m not.’ Craig spilled the bullets from the box and started loading up his rifle and then filled his jeans pockets.

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