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by Amarinda Jones

“What?”

  “I just think I need to—”

  Phil interrupted them. “Come on, Evan. I need you to take control of the Throcker Thrashers.” He turned to Cass. “It can get pretty wild out there when the

  thrashing starts.”

  “I bet.” The Country Women’s Association ladies didn’t look like people you

  would willingly mess with. “Go,” she told Evan. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t back away from this.” Evan’s gaze was full on hers.

  Spooky that he knows what I’m thinking. A swift change of subject was needed.

  “I want to look around the house.”

  “Be careful. Some of the old floor boards are rotten,” Evan warned.

  “Yes, and some people have ripped up parts of the walls looking for the gold,”

  Phil added.

  Cass gave a mock salute. “Duly noted.”

  Evan reached for her hand and squeezed it gently “Don’t go home without me.”

  “Oh, hell, no. You’re my ride. I don’t want to even think about walking back to

  town in the heat and dodging blow flies the size of flying mice.” She smiled widely at

  him.

  Cass headed up the steps of the old Throcker house thinking about Jack and his

  two brides. “How did that work for you, Jack?” Two women under the same roof,

  each claiming wifely rights would have been a nightmare. Old wooden boards whined

  under her feet. She assessed each step she took, looking for the most solid looking

  ones. “Last thing I need to do is fall through a floor and land on something icky like a

  snake.”

  Cass reached the old door, all floorboards were intact. She gently ran her one

  finger over a cracked, stainless rose in the paneling beside the door. Her other hand

  rested on the old brass door knob. It was green with age and neglect. “We have to

  save this place.” She stopped and thought about what that would take. Time and

  energy and a commitment to stay in Mundabucka. “Yeah, and then you can marry

  Evan and live happily ever after saving old, broken down houses and having sex with

  a man you’ve only just met. Real rational, woman.”

  She turned the knob and pushed open the door. A musty smell greeted her and

  she wasn’t surprised to see old, dusty furnishings in what looked like it would have

  been the parlor. It appeared like everything had been left the way it had been when the

  Throckers had lived there. Solid, wood furniture with rotting velvet coverings and

  haphazardly draped curtains were still hanging and a piano stood in front of the

  window. Cass walked over to it and fingered some of the keys. A wobbly few notes

  sounded eerily making her stiffen like she felt someone was in the house watching

  her. Were the old ghosts of the Throckers still wandering the home?

  She moved from the parlor into the kitchen. Old pots and pans hung on the wall

  in neat rows as if waiting for their owners to take them down and prepare a meal. The

  enameled sink was chipped and rusted out in parts. As Cass walked on the old linoleum floor it crackled under her feet as ancient vinyl gave way. She squatted

  down and picked up an old newspaper peeking out from a hole in the flooring. It was

  dated 1877 and an advertisement for corsets announced women ‘should show what

  you’re made of.’ Cass pondered wearing a corset and undoubtedly heavy, long skirts

  in sweltering weather and felt admiration for women who endured life as it was back

  then in Australia.

  From the kitchen, she progressed down the hall, a cold shiver racing up her spine.

  “Are you here, Jack?” No answer. “Tell me where you hid the gold and we’ll use it to

  make the house come back to life.” This was met by only by the sounds of creaking

  boards under her feet.

  She pushed open a door to what appeared to Cass to be the main bedroom. There

  was an old bed, just the springs and four sturdy iron uprights that kept it together. Did

  the three of them sleep there? Did the women take it in turns?

  “No way in hell I would’ve accepted that,” Cass mumbled to herself as she

  looked over to a massive wooden chest. It looked like something someone may have

  taken off an old ship, possibly containing the worldly goods of a traveler coming to a

  vast, new land where nothing existed. She ran her hands over the solid wood. At a

  guess, it looked like oak to her. It was bound with steel strapping that held it tight and

  protected. A flip latch, with an old padlock, still with a rusted key, hanging from it,

  would have secured whatever treasure was inside.

  “This is beautiful. How can they let this rot?” She pulled the padlock off and

  placed it on the ground so she could lever the lid open using the latch. It was heavy

  and took some effort to lift up. Inside the interior was spacious but empty. “No

  Throcker gold lurking in here.” Not that she expected it to be. Cass peered down at

  the base of the trunk. The wood looked different. “And flimsy. What’s that about?”

  Cass leaned in, her ass up in the air and her hand curled into a fist. She knocked

  on the base. It was soft pine. She knocked on the sides. Two different sounds. One

  solid. One not so. She knocked on them again. “Yep, they’re not the same. I wonder

  why?” Cass turned as she heard a noise suddenly break the silence. It sounded like

  something moving within the house. “Or, maybe not. Maybe it’s just a creepy, old

  house and you have an active imagination.”

  Her attention went back to the trunk. Cass ran her fingers around the pine base

  and into the corners and over the joins. There was a small gap that didn’t seem to look

  natural. A weird feeling rushed over her. “Could the Throcker gold be in there? Was it

  a case of hiding something in plain sight? If so, it wasn’t going to be the legendary

  haul people expected. She stood up and looked around the room to find something to

  wedge into the gap and pry up the pine. An old shoe horn made of what looked like

  actual horn lay discarded on the floor.

  Cass picked it up and went back to the trunk. She shoved the shoe horn into the

  gap and jiggled it around, trying to pry up the plank. After a couple of minutes and a

  lot of sweating, the board popped up with a groan. Cass worked her fingertips underneath and yanked the board up. What she saw made her blink twice. There was

  an old folded piece of paper, a compass and a key.

  “Holy crap! Is that a map? I don’t believe it!” Cass reached down inside for the

  paper. “Is this clue to the Throcker gold?” And then she blacked out.

  Chapter nine

  “Cassie! Can you hear me!” Evan was frantic. He had returned to the house after

  an hour to look for Cass. She was nowhere to be seen. The door to the home was open

  and there were footsteps in the thick dust on the floor. A cold sense of fear raced

  through him. This was a very old house. She could have fallen through the floor and

  been crying out for help without anyone to hear. He looked around frantically but all

  boards were intact. Phil joined in the search when he heard Evan shouting Cass’s

  name. They went from room to room.

  “Are you sure she went in here?” Phil asked.

  “She said she wanted to look around.” If anything happened to her, Evan knew it

  would kill him, such was the hold she had taken on his heart. “Cassie!”

  “You love her.” Phil smiled.


  “Yeah, I do.”

  “That’s nice, man.”

  “We have to find her.”

  Cass woke up with the mother of all headaches. She tried to sit up but hit her

  head on what appeared to be a very low ceiling. “Where the hell am I? She rubbed her

  head and squinted above her. It looked like solid oak. It was then she realized where

  she was. In the trunk. And the headache? “Someone hit me hard right after I found

  what could have been a map and a compass.” She muttered to herself as she scrabbled

  her hands around in the confined space. She could feel the map and compass under

  her fingers. “And frig, there was a key. A big, old and ornate one.” In the musty,

  confined space she couldn’t or feel anything else. The key was gone.

  Cass pushed up on the lid. It was firm. She thought of the latch and the padlock

  she had seen earlier. “The bastard must have locked me in!” Part of her wanted to

  panic while her more rational self told her to calm down, shut up and think. She

  couldn’t get out. Whoever hit her must have taken the map, compass and key and then

  locked her in. “When I find them, I’m going to kick their ass.”

  She pushed again on the lid. It was sweaty hot inside the trunk. Suffocation

  wasn’t an issue though. Enough air seemed to be getting in through a join in the

  wood. “So, I just have to contemplate heatstroke. There’s a bright side,” she muttered

  to herself as she banged her fists against the wood. “Do not panic. Stay calm.” Despite

  this she yelled out. To her surprise, a voice yelled back. She screamed in relief.

  “Cassie!

  It was Evan. The sound of running feet were heading toward her. “Evan! I’m

  here. In the trunk!” She kept banging her fists on the inside of the lid. She heard Phil

  ask, “How did she get in there for Pete’s sake?”

  “Please get me out,” she wailed. Any illusion of being strong and in control had

  rapidly diminished with the rising heat in the trunk.

  “I will. I promise,” Evan called out to her. “I just have to get the lid open. Damn

  it! The key broke.”

  “I saw an axe in the old barn outside,” Phil told him.

  “Get it!” Evan ordered.

  Cass heard the sound of running feet. “An axe?” She was awfully close the top of

  the lid. She tried to scrunch down to make herself smaller.

  “I’ll be careful. I promise, Cassie.”

  She knew that. “Evan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m kinda scared.”

  “I know. You’d be crazy not to be,” he responded, frustration evident in his

  voice.

  “And, I’m sweating like a pig.”

  “I will get you out.”

  Phil pounded back into the room. “I have the axe!”

  “Don’t destroy the trunk!” Cassie implored.

  “What?” Evan sounded agog.

  “It’s a beautiful thing.” It would be a shame to ruin it.

  “You’re more beautiful to me than it will ever be.”

  The next sound she heard was the axe crashing down and wood splintering. Cass

  covered her head with her hands. Another blow followed and suddenly there was

  daylight and hands started pulling the splintered wood apart. Cool air rushed in. She

  looked up at Evan. “Hello.” She had never been so relieved to see anyone. Phil even

  looked good.

  “You’re right,” Evan reached his hands down to her. “You are sweating like a

  pig.” He pulled her up and out.

  “What happened?” Phil asked her.

  Cass leaned against Evan, relieved to be out and in his arms. She told them about

  the possible map and the compass “—and then I blacked out.”

  Evan touched her hair. Her hat was no longer on her head and there was blood.

  “Looks like someone whacked you. We need to get you to hospital. Phil, get the car.”

  “Right!” He raced out.

  Evan pulled Cass into his arms and kissed her. “God, I was so worried.” He

  leaned his forehead against hers.

  “Me, too.” She turned to glance at the trunk. It was then she saw it. “Hey, wait a

  second, the key is still here. I must have been lying on it and whoever knocked me out

  didn’t realize. Do you think it’s the key to the Throcker gold?” That could be the only

  reason someone had done to her what they did.

  Evan reached down and picked it up. “Maybe, but at the moment I need to make

  sure you’re okay. The Throcker gold can wait.”

  Chapter Ten

  Word soon raced around Mundabucka about what happened to the city chick.

  Cass was not impressed. “City chick?” She was back at the hotel with Flo and Jo

  fussing over her.

  “Yeah, well, you’re from the big smoke of Cairns.”

  “Cairns isn’t a major city. It’s regional, casual and carefree. It’s hardly a metropolis.”

  Flo considered that and nodded. “No, but it’s bigger than Mundabucka and that

  makes you the city chick.”

  Cass blew out a breath and stood up from the large armchair she had been directed to sit in and rest. “I’m fine,” she announced before either woman could say

  anything. It was nice they were worried but so much attention drove Cass mad.

  “Evan said you were to rest,” Jo told her.

  “Well, Evan’s not here so what Evan doesn’t know won’t hurt him will it now?

  By the way, where is he?” He had gotten her home and gone. “He was last seen

  holding onto the key and cursing under his breath.”

  “He was pretty angry about what happened to you.”

  “Flo’s right. He and Phil went to talk to Deputy Bob. They figure the key, compass and map are safest with him.”

  “Deputy Bob? Seriously?” Just when I thought Mundabucka couldn’t get more

  country.

  “Deputy Bob is our local cop,” explained Flo. “He’s been called Deputy Bob ever

  since primary school when he used to wear a sheriff’s badge. The thought is he liked

  it so much he decided to be a cop for real.”

  “Ah, I see.” Mundabucka was a strange place. It was better to go with it than

  against it.

  “We have Bob and Nellie on our Police force.”

  “Nellie?” Was Mundabucka progressive enough to have a female officer, Cass

  wondered?

  “His blue heeler cattle dog.”

  “Of course.” Cass smiled. She should have thought of that.

  “Phil also helps out,” Jo added. “They’re a very effective police force.”

  “No doubt,” murmured Cass as she thought of a tin starred Deputy Bob, a pooch

  and the toothless and fingerless Phil, on the beat looking after the mean streets of

  Mundabucka.

  It was then Adele appeared. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

  Like she gave a crap. Just the fake way she said it set Cass’s teeth on edge with

  suspicion. She looked too happy for someone who didn’t like her. A thought came to

  her. What the hell. “Why did you hit me on the head?” A little speculative accusation

  couldn’t hurt.

  “I did not!” Adele declared angrily.

  “And you took the key.”

  She bit back. “There was no key.”

  Three sets of eyes locked on Adele.

  “Ah-ha!” I frigging knew it.

  “Adele? What did you do?” Flo wasn’t happy.

  Jo barred the doorway she came in through. “You need to explain what
you just

  said.”

  Adele backed away from everyone. “I mean, I heard through gossip that there

  was a map and compass. No one mentioned a key.”

  “Gossip, huh?” Cass knew she was lying her Sicilian ass off.

  “Of course.” Adele crossed her arms over her breasts. “Are you accusing me of

  something? That’s slander you know.”

  “Only if it’s not true,” Cass responded, thinking that as shallow as Adele was, she

  didn’t strike her as someone who would try and bash someone’s head in. That she

  knew what happened and undoubtedly by who was a given.

  “I don’t have to stand here and take this!” Adele snarled at Cass.

  “No, I’m sure you can take it elsewhere with the same reaction.”

  “Bitch.” Adele went off in a huff.

  “Cow!” Cass yelled after her. She didn’t care what Adele thought of her. As if

  Evan would want her.

  “Think she did it?” Jo asked Cass. “She’s pretty greedy.”

  “Yeah, but she’s basically stupid and shallow.” The other women nodded at

  Cass’s words.

  “Who else, then?”

  Cass wouldn’t put it past Murdo and said so. Her one run in with him was enough

  to make her suspicious.

  “Maybe,” Flo answered. “Word is he went bush a couple of hours ago. Plenty of

  time to do the deed and scarper.”

  “Maybe he’s looking for the gold.”

  Jo had a good point but for one thing. “But he doesn’t have the key.”

  “He could shoot the lock off whatever it fits to.”

  Cass was bemused. “I think that only ever happens successfully in the movies

  and as fascinating as Mundabucka is, it’s no Hollywood.”

  * * * * *

  Cass eventually gave into the fussing and concern from Flo and Jo and retired to

  her bedroom. She was neither tired nor an invalid. While Cass had a slight headache

  from the bump on her head, she felt bad about wasting her employer’s time. She was

  paid to do a job and not to lie around. She took work seriously. But they wouldn’t

  hear of her doing anything more for the day. And, if she was honest, while they’re

  fussing was sweet, it was also draining. It was nice people cared. She hadn’t felt that

  in ages.

  “Crazy place,” she murmured to herself.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Evan responded pushing through the doorway

 

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