by Helene Young
A series of PowerPoint graphs about fuel loads were being beamed up onto a large screen. He was deciphering them for the one hundred–strong crowd that was crammed into the CWA hall. Hazard reduction burns were the main topic after such a hot start to summer and the long, wet winter.
She heard the squeak of the side door and turned her head. Well, well, she thought, it was the delectable Brad Ryan coming in from the dark night. He was checking out the group, and many of them were checking him out in return. She knew the curiosity wasn’t just about his previous occupation. Eligible men were thin on the ground in Atherton, let alone attractive ones.
She focused back on the speaker just in time to see him nod a welcome to Ryan. He knew him already? Ryan certainly got around.
The presenter took another half an hour before he called for questions. Kaitlyn shifted in her seat. Now came the interesting part.
The first question was one dear to her heart.
‘So, what’s your opinion of “stay and defend”?’ It was one of the bolshie Taylor clan from out in the hills near Herberton, renowned for their opposition to evacuating. The problem was that their houses were located high on hills, surrounded by trees. The greater the slope, the faster the fire potentially spread. The deeper the fuel load on the forest floor, the more devastating the intensity and the more chance of fireballs bouncing through the crowns of the highly flammable eucalypts. The Taylors all lived in prime country for the ‘early evacuation’ plan.
The ATGIS chief shook his head. ‘You know my opinion, Jacko. If you’ve cleared your property of excess fuel, installed some decent water pumps and secured a guaranteed water supply, then an able-bodied person should be able to defend against a normal-sized bushfire. If, however, you live on an escarpment with steep inclines and uncontrolled slopes below you, then defending is not an option. But —’ He held up his hand against the howls of protest that broke out from around the room. ‘But, it’s your call. We don’t have a forcible evacuation policy in Queensland. We can only warn you when the risk is high, and send out texts in the event we deem an evacuation to be necessary. I can’t make you leave. I can only strongly suggest it.’
‘Installing pumps costs money. We don’t all have truckloads of money to pay for that sort of shit.’ The older Taylor threw a spiteful glare at Kaitlyn.
She stared back, keeping her face impassive. He was never going to get a rise out her. No one else needed to know it was Julia’s money that had paid for the beautiful house. The insurance on Kait’s house in Canberra hadn’t been worth the paper it was written on. With her own husband accused of lighting the fire, the insurance company hadn’t paid her a cent.
Jacko had come out to give her a quote on the installation of the rainwater tanks and two big pumps. He’d told her then, in no uncertain terms, that she was throwing her money away. She and her pumps would never work.
Obviously, he hadn’t got the job. Nor had he been civil since. It didn’t bother her. Among the sea of faces she could see a cluster of fellow rural firies, about half of all the teams in the area. There were a couple of faces she didn’t recognise. A clean-cut guy about her age, who looked like he’d lost his suit jacket in an effort to go casual, was taking notes. Government department, she guessed. Several new couples. Probably bought acreage and were now wondering what the hell to do in the event of a fire. Hope they were paying close attention.
Then there were the Taylors, who simply turned up to be belligerent. And the Taylors had a habit of holding the floor …
She managed to stifle a yawn. She had an early start tomorrow. The lady next to her, who happened to be Dan’s teacher, sent her a sympathetic look. ‘They do go on, don’t they?’ she whispered. ‘Why bother coming if you’re going to argue black is white? Silly people should know everyone thinks they’re troublemakers.’
Kait smiled at her. ‘You’ll have an early start tomorrow too, I guess.’
‘Yeah. Thank God the end of the term is only a couple of weeks away. Mind you, that means the report cards all have to be done. Your Dan’s a good boy, a real pleasure to have in class. I’ll be sorry to lose him next year.’
‘You only teach Grade Two?’
‘Yeah, they start getting more difficult once they turn eight. I like the babies. More fun.’ She smiled at Kait. ‘You wouldn’t know he came from a single family. You and Julia have done a great job.’
Kait was a little embarrassed. ‘I always worry he’s a mummy’s boy. He can be soft at times. And I’m away from home so much, I also worry he’s going a little wild.’
The woman smiled again. ‘No danger of that; he has beautiful manners. You’ll turn out fine husband material for some lucky girl. Have you had him tested for the gifted program?’
‘No.’ Kait shook her head. ‘We’ll see how he goes. No pressure yet. He’s very good musically. Julia used to be a piano teacher. Probably the only kid with a concert grand as his first piano.’
‘I didn’t know that. You should consider testing him. I can give you some books and games he can practise on. He’s very bright. Oh, thank God.’ The room had broken out in polite clapping, and people were starting to move. ‘I’ll see you at the last P&T night for the year?’
‘Yep. I’ll make sure I’m there,’ Kaitlyn replied, swinging her bag over her shoulder and following the teacher to the back of the line trailing out of the hall.
Kaitlyn saw Ryan threading through the chairs towards her.
‘Hey, neighbour,’ he said, grinning. ‘We should have carpooled.’
She had to smile back at him, knowing her heart had skipped a beat. His easy charm smoothed her prickly edges. Insane. ‘I had no idea you’d be here.’
‘No, why would you? I used to work for the Sydney Metropolitan Fire Services. Thought I’d better put my hand up for the rural brigade. Had a chat with the boss of ATGIS today. Seems like a good bloke.’
‘Yes,’ Kaitlyn said, pushing her hair back behind her ears, conscious that for once it was a loose cloud around her shoulders and Ryan’s eyes kept straying to it. She must look like a wild hillbilly with flaming hair. Days like this she wished she bothered to get a good cut. ‘He’s very proactive and well respected.’ She wrinkled her nose and slanted her head towards the Taylor clan, who were now gathering as a group near the front door. ‘Of course, there are always those who disagree, but it makes life more interesting.’
‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Oh.’ She was surprised. ‘A cuppa would be lovely.’
‘Tea?’ He looked shocked and she couldn’t stop her laugh.
‘I don’t think the CWA catering contingent runs to alcohol. And I don’t drink coffee this late at night.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘I don’t call eight late, but hey, if the lady would like a cup of tea, I can manage that.’
‘White, no sugar, thanks,’ she called after him as he headed towards the tiny kitchen. He charmed his way around the women in the queue. The guys might not be so friendly, but those boyish good looks worked on the females. He even cadged a biscuit out of them.
‘There you go.’
‘Thanks. You’re not having anything?’
‘Ah, no, I don’t drink instant coffee and tea is a bit wishy-washy for me. I’ll have a beer when I get home.’
‘Oh, well, a double thanks then.’ She was embarrassed at having let him get her a drink.
‘Sit outside? It’s a bit warm in here.’
She smiled up at him. ‘And there I was, thinking I was having a hot flush.’
‘You are definitely not old enough to be having a flush.’ His fingers curled round her elbow as he steered her through the people. His touch made her almost spill the liquid in the cup. She hoped he hadn’t noticed.
‘So, how’s Dan?’
‘Fine, thanks.’
‘At home with your husband?’
‘I should have explained. There is no husband. It’s just Dan, my mother, Julia, and me.’
‘Sorry. I just thought.
’ He nodded at the silver band on her left hand.
‘He died. Five years ago. I see no reason to take it off. He’s Dan’s dad.’
‘And it keeps strangers at bay.’
‘Not all of them.’
‘No,’ he acknowledged her dig with a grin. ‘But then, I’m not strange, just new to the place.’
She had to laugh outright. ‘Are you sure you don’t sell used cars? You have the glibbest lines I’ve ever heard.’
‘You bring out the gentleman in me.’
‘Oh, please.’ She almost choked on her tea. ‘How long can you keep this up?’ She regretted the words as soon as she saw the gleam in his eyes.
‘No one’s ever accused me of lacking stamina.’
‘Okay, okay, too much information.’ She put her free hand over her ear and changed the subject. ‘So, how’s it working out in Jerry’s house? Julia said you dropped around yesterday afternoon.’
‘It’s great, although I do have one complaint. I think there’s a master chef camping out somewhere near your house. Every night I get this amazing aroma of cooking, then I’m left staring at my Lean Cuisine or spag bol, wondering who it is that’s feasting in heaven.’
‘Ha, well, your flattery is wasted this time. That’s Julia. I work away a lot, usually for four to six days at a time. My mother is an awesome chef. She took the job of feeding her family to art-form status. She did a cooking course that lasted three years and was the equivalent of an apprenticeship. Some of my most vivid memories involve wrestling with homework at the kitchen bench, classical music filling the house, and Julia waving herbs under my nose saying, ‘What do think this one goes with?’ It’s a wonder I passed anything at school. Food in our house is to be worshipped.’
‘A woman I could fall in love with. She fed me blueberry muffins yesterday. I’m afraid she thinks I have no manners. I just about inhaled them.’
Kaitlyn finished her tea in a quick swallow and stood up. Time to go. He was far too easy to talk to. She’d let her guard down. Dangerous. ‘Thanks for that. I’d better get going. You’ll have to drop around again. Julia loves to feed an appreciative audience. Dan and I get a bit blasé about it all.’ She held out her hand to shake his, but he took it in both hands and smiled into her eyes.
‘I’d like that. Get to know you more.’
‘Right.’ She pulled away. Bet he was that friendly with everyone.
He didn’t look ready to leave. ‘Good to hear Dan’s bike turned up.’
‘A true godsend. I have no idea how it made its way to Herberton, though.’
‘Seems a little strange. Police have any idea?’
‘No, they simply returned it, glad to have been of help.’
‘Hmm.’
He looked like he was about to speak again so she cut in. ‘Nice to see you again. Better get going.’
‘And you. See you round.’
She could feel him watching her as she headed off to her car, dropping the paper cup in the bin as she passed.
Driving home, she couldn’t help letting her imagination off its leash for just a moment. What would it be like to share her bed with a man again? To wake up next to the warmth of an adult male, not a wriggling, kicking worm of a sleepy seven-year-old who’d snuck into bed for a quick cuddle and then gone to sleep? What would it feel like to have those slightly roughened hands run down her body and cup her breasts?
She groaned out loud. ‘That’s as likely to happen as hell freezing over, so don’t go there. He’s got to be at least a couple of years too young, you old cougar.’
Besides, she reminded herself as her thoughts darkened, she still had to track down her allegedly alive husband. Not only was she potentially still married, she was potentially still married to an arsonist. That dampened her mood. No place for a new man in her life.
Her father’s old colleague, Martin, was yet to get back to her, but she was working on her own angles. Was there a connection between her suddenly resurrected husband living up the road, so to speak, and the arsonist at work on the Tablelands? Was she drawing too long a bow?
She’d charted up Chris’s history, trying to look for patterns in his behaviour that might point to the truth. She felt like all she needed was time, but time could mean more fires, or worse.
Julia’s forced cheerfulness for the last two days was telling. They both needed an answer to this one, and soon.
Turning into Happy Jack Road, she saw an erratic light over at Jerry’s place. It looked to be moving around in the yard. How could that be? She’d left Ryan at the meeting, and no one had overtaken her. She stopped the car at her front gateway and turned the lights off. Now what?
There it was again. A faint, bobbing light, like someone walking with a torch. That couldn’t be good. She got out of the car. The TV was on, so she knew her mother was still up.
‘Hi Julia, I’m home,’ she called as she opened the door.
‘Kait.’ Her mother sounded drowsy. She was nodding off more and more in front of the TV these days. ‘How was it?’
‘Oh, the usual nonsense from the Taylors.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Have you heard any cars go by? I can see a light around in Jerry’s yard.’
‘No, no, I haven’t.’ Her mother looked embarrassed. ‘But I may have dozed off a couple of times. Maybe it’s Ryan, out spotting possums.’
‘Nope. I left him at the meeting.’
‘Oh, he was there? That’s nice. Did you say hello?’
‘Thanks, Mum, yes, I was polite. He is our neighbour.’
‘That’s good.’ Julia had brightened. ‘Daniel says he always stops to say hello when he drives past. He’s a very handsome man.’
‘I’m surprised you noticed.’ Kaitlyn shook her head. Her mother’s matchmaking gene was nearly as evolved as her cooking gene. ‘Anyway, I’ll just drive around and check. It seems a bit strange.’
‘Do you want me to come too?’
‘No, no. You stay with Dan. I’ve got my phone. I’ll ring the police if it looks suspicious.’
Being neighbourly was ingrained. As an adolescent, Kait had spent hours hosing Canberra gardens in the middle of hot summers when the occupants were away on holidays. She’d fallen in love with too many cats and dogs that had boarded with her family during those same long breaks. Being in the country made it even more important.
She passed the top of the fire trail and wondered if someone had come through there. Possible, but it would be a hard slog, even in a low-range four-wheel drive.
With about a kilometre to go, she saw dim lights heading up the road towards her. Whoever it was only had their sidelights on. They looked like they were travelling at speed. She pulled onto the hard shoulder, staying well back from a sharp bend ahead, conscious there was a significant drop-off beside her. Better to give them room.
Without the pressure of driving, she watched the glow of the other vehicle coming towards her. They were caning it, dust billowing around them in the low light. She couldn’t see enough to recognise the vehicle, although it looked big – a ute, maybe.
As it came around the corner, its headlights flashed on, along with a bank of spotties high on the roof. Blinded, Kait threw her hand up in front of her face to shield her eyes. Bloody hell! She couldn’t see a darn thing. She thought she heard the slide of locked brakes, then an instant later the vehicle hit her. It was only a glancing blow, but that was enough to drop her rear offside wheel deep into soft dirt. Her car tilted, and the banking started to crumble under its weight.
Kaitlyn screamed.
Chapter 22
LEAVING the community hall took longer than Ryan had anticipated. Grant McCormack collared him, saying he was with the receivers for Greentrees. Had heard Ryan had moved into the property at the top of their plantation. Ryan knew all about Mr McCormack already. His comprehensive file was sitting on Ryan’s hard drive. Receivers my arse, Ryan thought with a polite smile. His company was half the reason Ryan was here in North Queensland.
In person, the CEO
seemed like a reasonable man. Ryan knew he’d worked in PNG for the family gold mine before things fell in a heap up there. He wasn’t at the helm when they started diversifying and buying failing assets in Australia – his father was. The old man loved shelf companies. They covered a multitude of sins. He clearly didn’t realise that the computer age had brought greater cooperation between the Australian Crime Commission, Federal Police and the Taxation Office.
Greentrees had been in trouble after fires destroyed large swathes of its plantations of mature pines. A forensic accountant pointed out the pines were worth more burnt as insurance money than alive, pulped or even used as carbon credits. The fact that at least one plantation turned out to be sitting on a coal seam was a stroke of good luck, wasn’t it? Ryan chuckled. People had no idea how much information was available on the web, if they only knew where to look.
He pressed the remote as he walked to his car, surprised when the lights didn’t flash. He tried again as he got closer, then hit the lock button. The lights flashed that time. ‘You moron,’ he chided himself. He’d been running late, but that didn’t excuse forgetting to lock the car. He slid into the front seat and checked the ashtray. Still full of loose change, so no one had broken in. The engine started with a little more of a rev than necessary and he eased his foot off the accelerator. No point in getting angry, but he wasn’t as sharp as he should be. He wasn’t in the habit of putting himself at risk.
His thoughts shifted back to Greentrees and the plantations. Originally, they’d been set up as a tax-avoidance scheme for high-income earners. Superannuation when you weren’t really in superannuation. As start-up plantations they’d attracted tax-free investments that would take twenty years to mature, and then technically they could be rolled into a new plantation for another block of time. By the time an investor got their money back they would be retired, having paid little or no tax. Oddly enough, the ATO had clamped down pretty hard on that loophole and a swag of high-flyers lost their dough. The following year, the trees started burning.
And that, thought Ryan as he drove out of the centre of Atherton and up the hill towards the Tolga scrub, was why he was in the top of Queensland, pretending to rent a house he’d unexpectedly inherited and playing at being a fireman.
