Fenced-In Felix

by Cheyenne Blue

  “Wait.” The responder’s voice sharpened. “So you’re saying that your horse, Flame, is not Fiery Lights, even though the microchip says she is, and furthermore, you’ve found two other horses with the same microchip?”

  “Yeah.” I slid down the headboard a bit and wished hard for a beer, or a wine. Something to take the edge off this difficult conversation. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  After that, it was all rapid question and answer as the responder quizzed us. Josie and I answered what we could, but there was a lot we couldn’t, especially when we were asked about the horses in Victoria. I told her that our friend there had also called Crime Stoppers and she might have more information.

  Eventually, the call ended. I dropped the phone on the bed and slid down so that I was lying flat. Josie slid down next to me and reached for my hand, threading her fingers through mine.

  “I’m glad that call is over,” I said. “I didn’t enjoy that. I’ve never done anything wrong before, not that warranted that sort of inquisition.” I glanced across at Josie. “What about you?”

  She was silent for a moment, then said, “Got caught shoplifting when I was fifteen. My dad had pissed off again—he often did that, but normally he’d return before the food ran out. I couldn’t ask anyone for help; if they knew I was alone in the house, they would have told the authorities and I’d have ended up in care. I’d heard stories about kids in foster homes and what happened to them, especially the girls. In hindsight, those tales probably weren’t true, but at the time, I believed them. My dad told them to me, probably as a way of keeping me around. I was useful. I did the housework and the cooking, so I was too scared and too proud to ask for help. I stole a tin of tuna and a couple of packet of spaghetti from the supermarket instead. They caught me and called the police. I was let off with a caution, and they said they’d call my father. Luckily, Dad arrived home the next day and took the call. He swore a blue streak to them about me being a wayward kid, and then he swore a bigger streak at me for being stupid enough to get caught. Then he took off again, but this time, he left twenty bucks. After that, I stole the five-dollar notes from his wallet and hid them under my mattress so I’d never be caught out again.” She heaved a sigh. “That’s my only run-in with the police.”

  I thought of my own upbringing. My two parents, who had loved each other—and me—above all. We’d been a close-knit family, bound tight by love. When Dad died suddenly, Mum and I clung tighter to each other. As I’d grown up, there was never any question of me leaving home. Jayboro was my home, and I’d never considered living anywhere else. When Mum sickened, I’d juggled her nursing care with horse breaking and trail rides, and when she was confined to a wheelchair, I’d spent most of our small savings on making the house wheelchair accessible for her, even though I knew she likely had less than a year to live. I hadn’t thought twice about spending the money.

  No, my childhood was light years away from Josie’s. I guessed hers had shaped her personality much as mine had. She had an easy way with people. She put them at their ease, encouraging them to talk about themselves while skipping lightly over any probing questions that came her way.

  I turned on my side to face her and placed my fingertips on her cheek. I walked them down across the slant of her cheekbone, around the curves and whorls of her ear, and into her hair, twisting one of those wild curls around. I tugged, and she rolled onto her side, facing me. I wanted to kiss her. There were still so many murky layers between us, of doubt and the unknown, but right now, I wasn’t thinking about them. I was thinking about Josie the woman, and how well we fitted together. Our lovemaking. Desire pulsed in my blood.

  I tightened my grip on her hair, and she took the hint and moved closer. One of her hands settled on my hip, and she rested her lips on my forehead. They were hot and dry.

  “Are you going to kiss me properly?” I said against her throat.

  I felt her swallow, and then her lips moved down and claimed mine, coaxing them apart for a long, leisurely kiss, as if we had all the time in the world. Her tongue flicked on my lips, then delved into my mouth, and we started an advance and retreat of tongues, dancing across each other in slow exploration.

  Josie sighed into my mouth. “Don’t talk. Let’s just make love.”

  I tried to push aside the buzz of worry in my head, the tangled skeins of conversations with the police, with Pen, with Sue. What would happen when the police came to Jayboro—would they take Flame? What would they do? Would Josie be in trouble? Would they arrive before we got home?

  Enough.

  I wound those thoughts into a knot and shoved them into a corner of my mind to be dealt with later.

  Josie. I would think only of Josie, of Josie and me together.

  I reached for the buttons of her shirt, flicked them from the holes, and pushed the shirt back. Her bra was plain white nylon, and her nipples pebbled against the thin material. In turn, Josie pushed up my T-shirt, ran a hand down my stomach, and undid my shorts so that she could stroke down to the top of my undies.

  “I love your belly,” she said. “So flat, so hard.”

  “All work and no chocolate,” I teased, although my leanness was as much hereditary as it was hard work.

  I sat up, pulled my T-shirt over my head, and unsnapped my bra. Josie raised up too and removed her shirt and bra and then stood and dropped her shorts to her feet. She kicked them away.

  I wasn’t as graceful as her and chose instead to wiggle out of the rest of my clothes on the bed. I slid under the covers, then kicked the sheets and blankets back.

  I held out a hand to her. She took it and lay with me. Then there were no more words, only the soft sound of lovemaking.

  CHAPTER 23

  We arrived back to Jayboro just before noon. Tess and Ripper met the ute halfway down the drive. They bounded along together like best mates. I opened the ute door, and Tess leapt up without hesitation. For a moment, I had a large dusty dog in my lap, as she licked my face, seeming to remember me, before continuing over the gearstick to greet Josie in the same way. Ripper put his paws on the sill, polite enough to need an invitation. I patted my lap, and he leapt up and we drove the final couple of hundred metres to the house, getting smashed in the face by waving tails.

  Sue must have heard the engine, as she came out to greet us. We stopped the ute, and the dogs tumbled out and ran onto the veranda to flop on the boards.

  “The police called,” Sue said. “I told them I expected you home about now. They’re coming out from the Isa.” She hugged me, and then turned to Josie and hugged her as well. “Welcome home.”

  We followed her into the office. Her laptop sat on my desk and there were a few legal looking papers spread around. She bundled them and pushed them to one side. “Sorry for the mess. I had a bit of work to do. Moni’s down at the campground. One of the cabins was booked last night, and she’s down there cleaning and getting it ready for tonight. Both cabins are booked.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “Thank you so much. I didn’t think you’d have this much to do. We’ll have to work out how I can repay you.”

  Sue flapped a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It will do Moni good to get her hands dirty.”

  I thought of all the times I’d seen Moni covered in dust and dirt from head to toe. Neither of my friends was one to shirk from manual work, despite their professional careers.

  I went out to put the kettle on, and when I came back to the office with a tray of mugs, Moni had arrived. I went back for a fourth mug, and the four of us sat around my desk catching up on what we had missed. Between us, Josie and I related what had gone on down in Victoria and our call to Crime Stoppers. Sue and Moni filled in the details of the man who had attempted to remove Flame.

  “Flame’s still in the barn,” said Moni. She blew on her mug of tea. “Poor lady’s getting antsy, she wants to be outside with the others, but we felt she was safer inside.”

  “Sue, what does this mean for us? Not so much me
, but Josie. Do you think there’ll be anything to pin on her?” I didn’t look at Josie, sitting next to me, sipping on her tea, but the tension instantly radiated off her.

  Sue took off her reading glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know, to be honest. Not yet anyway. It depends on what the police turn up, what angle they take.” She directed her next words to Josie. “It’s highly likely they’ll want to question you. They might not be too polite. But if they take you in, don’t talk to them until your legal representation is present. Don’t let them bully you.”

  “I can’t afford legal representation,” Josie said, and she would have said more, but Sue interrupted.

  “You do have representation. Me. I’m not the greatest criminal lawyer in Queensland, Josie, but I’m your lawyer if you want me. Pro Bono.”

  “You don’t have to do this.” Even as Josie said the words, the relief shone in her eyes.

  Sue shrugged. “Yes I do. Felix is my friend. Now you’re my friend. And it’ll stand me in good stead with the Queensland Law Society. I’ve been a bit lax with pro bono work lately.”

  I knew that was a lie; Sue often worked for free for those who couldn’t afford to pay her, but I kept my mouth shut. Josie might need a lawyer, and for all her modesty, I knew Sue was good.

  “Thank you. I’m not going to turn you down.”

  Sue nodded, and handed Josie a business card. “Call me anytime, and make sure you call immediately if you’re hauled in for questioning. It will take me a few hours to get to Worrindi or the Isa, but be sure I’ll come, and don’t say anything until I arrive unless it’s ‘Where’s the toilet?’ or ‘Can I have a cup of tea?’”

  I looked over at Josie. She hunched in the chair, looking smaller than ever. Her face was grey, lined with worry. I hadn’t seen her look like that before, I’d only seen the carefree face she presented to the world. It seemed Josie was more nervous about this than she’d let on. I wanted to reach over and take her hand, but the gap between our chairs was too great.

  Just then, Tess lifted her head, and she and Ripper leapt off the veranda and took off down the driveway at warp speed, barking like mad things.

  Moni stood and looked out. “Cops.”

  Together, the four of us walked onto the veranda and stood in a line, awaiting the police. Tess and Ripper arrived back, panting, before the police had exited their car, put their caps on, and hitched up their pants.

  There were two cops, and I didn’t recognise either of them. They weren’t the local police from Worrindi.

  “Afternoon,” one of them said. “Which of you are Felicity Jameson and Josephine Beccari?”

  Sue stepped forwards. “Can we see some ID first?”

  They fished out their cards. Federal Police, not the Queensland Police.

  “I’m Felix, and this is Josie,” I said.

  The taller of the two, whose ID proclaimed him as Sergeant Tarrant, nodded. He ignored Sue and Moni and directed his words at Josie and me. “Can we talk privately?”

  Sue stepped forwards so that she was nose to nose with Tarrant. She was only an inch or so shorter. “I’m the legal representative for both of these women. I will need to be present for both interviews. Right now, it seems an informal chat with all of us present would suit us all better.”

  The officers exchanged a glance. “That will be fine.” Tarrant managed an approximation of a grin obviously designed to put us at our ease, but it only succeeded in putting me into a state of low-key alert. Tess obviously agreed, as she rested her nose on her paws and growled low in her throat.

  “Why don’t we start by taking a look at the horse?” suggested the other policeman, whose ID had identified him as Lopez.

  “No worries. She’s in the barn.”

  The six of us walked out of the house and down to the barn. Flame was pacing around restlessly in the end stall. We stretched out in a line and leaned on the bar that separated her stall from the aisle. Inside, Flame twirled, digging up the bedding with her hooves. She looked magnificent, every inch the racehorse. Good fodder had filled her out, and she was no longer the too-ribby horse who had arrived all those months ago. Her ears pricked, and her coat gleamed. She lacked in muscle tone, but I doubted the police would pick up on that. To the untrained eye, she looked a champion.

  Without asking, Lopez pulled out a microchip reader from his belt and ducked under the railing. From his bristling manner, I could tell he wasn’t used to horses and wasn’t very comfortable. Flame agreed. The whites of her eyes showed, and she snaked her head around him and moved away to the other side of the stall.

  Lopez followed her, the reader held in front of him, as if he were in a standoff. Again, Flame whipped around him.

  I glanced at Josie. This could go on all day. She ducked into the stall. “Would you like me to try?” she said. There was a neutral politeness in her voice. “She’s used to me.”

  Lopez ignored her and once more approached Flame. She shook her head, and her forelegs pranced. The bedding churned underneath her hooves. Josie waited until Flame had once again avoided Lopez, and then she walked slowly up to the horse, her hand held palm up, and spoke softly until Flame steadied and allowed Josie to approach. Josie petted her, speaking gently all the while.

  “If you come slowly from the side,” Josie said to Lopez, “you should be all right. Not from the rear; that’s a horse’s blind spot.”

  At first, it seemed as if Lopez would ignore her and blunder in from behind, but he hesitated long enough that Flame turned sideways, and when he did move closer, it was okay. It wasn’t what I would call a sensitive approach, but it worked, and he ran the chip reader down her neck.

  Josie opened her mouth and closed it again. I guessed she had been about to tell him where to find the chip and had thought better of it. Beside me, Sue gave a short nod of approval at Josie’s silence.

  Josie waited until Lopez had exited the stall before giving Flame a final pat and coming out to join us in the aisle.

  “What other horses do you have here?” Tarrant directed his words to Josie, but she deflected him to me.

  “My own six and Flame.” I listed them. “They’re all stockhorses or ponies, though. No thoroughbreds.”

  “Can we see them?”

  “Sure.” I turned to walk out of the barn.

  “They’re down in the long paddock,” Moni said.

  I glanced back at her. She wore a sweetly innocent expression, one that made her look like a slightly ditsy woman, nothing like the sharp-minded doctor she was. She shrugged. “It’s a long walk. Sorry, Felix, I turned them out there as I thought there was more grass.”

  My lips twitched. There was barely a blade of grass anywhere on Jayboro, thanks to the drought, and Moni knew that very well. There was only saltbush and red earth, and it was a lot easier to cart hay to the paddock nearer the barn. Whether the horses were in the long paddock or not, Moni obviously intended to make it hard for the cops.

  Tarrant gave a half smile. “Maybe we can drive?”

  “Sure. I’ll get the ute. You can follow.”

  The four of us piled into the cab of my ute. Moni, squashed on the outside, asked, “Can they book us for not wearing seatbelts? Even if this had seating for four up here, I couldn’t get to the belt as Sue’s bony hip is sticking in my stomach.”

  “Private land,” Sue replied. “They can’t touch us for that. And if you hadn’t eaten so much last night, you might be more comfortable.”

  She turned, and the two of them shared a look of amused affection. My fingers paused before turning the ignition key. The ease and warmth between them was palpable. My friends had a solid and loving relationship. Would I ever have that? With Josie, maybe? I swallowed. Right now, it was looking less and less likely.

  There were five gates between the barn and the long paddock. As per outback custom, Moni jumped out to open each one and left it for the following car to close. I saw Lopez stomp out of the police vehicle to close each gate.

  After the
third gate, Moni said, “I’ve made my point.” This time, she waited for them to drive through after us and then she closed it.

  My horses were indeed in the long paddock, grouped together under the gum trees by the creek.

  Lopez got out with the microchip reader. Maybe he’d had a lecture from his partner during the drive, as he said to Josie, “Would you occupy the front end again while I check the chips?”

  “Of course.” Josie’s quick smile was equally as swiftly hidden.

  “None of them are chipped except Patchwork,” I said. “She’s the piebald.”

  Tarrant ambled over to stand next to me. “She’s a fine looking mare. Did you barrel race her?”

  I wondered if he’d done his research on me—photos of me and Patch at the Isa rodeo were in the newspaper archives—or if he genuinely had an eye for horses.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was years ago now. Some barrel racing, some camp drafts. She’s a good lady.” I kept my eyes on Josie, moving from horse to horse to allow Lopez to sweep his chip reader. Greedy Jetta tried to get her nose in Lopez’s pockets, searching for food, but otherwise there was no drama.

  We bounced back across the paddocks to the house, and this time Sue, who was on the outside, opened and closed all the gates.

  Inside the house, I offered coffee. The boys were only doing their job, and it would be easier for all of us if it were pleasant.

  “Thanks, that would be good.” Tarrant’s words were accompanied by a smile. He, at least, was trying to be polite.