She hurried down the hallway until she padded out onto the veranda and tipped and shook out her boots from habit, then slipped them on. She paused, glancing around.
There. She could see lights in the distance. Car lights, jolting over the ground. Geez, they were a fair way out. Why didn’t kids hang out near the springs, like she and Hayden had done as kids?
She jogged over to the ute parked near the maintenance sheds. Keys were always kept in the ignition, or hooked on the sun visor. Within minutes she was bouncing across the paddocks into the darkness, her mouth set in a grim line. Bloody hell. Had Brayden told all his mates where to go to get wasted without supervision?
She drove along the tracks, stopping at the gates along the way. Looking at the angle they were driving, it looked like they’d taken the third gate from the road. Bulls’ Run had a number of gates along the highway, just to make it easier for feed deliveries or stock collections. That gate was far enough away from the main gate that they wouldn’t have heard the entry back at the main house. If she hadn’t been awake at the time, she probably wouldn’t have heard them driving out. Sheep moved in huddles, disturbed by her car, and she kept her eye on them. She didn’t want a group to run across the track in a panic.
It took her a moment to realise the car had stopped moving. She drove around to it, frowning as it remained stationary. They’d have to have seen her lights. She braked to a stop about four metres away from it, her headlights trained on it. A white four-wheel drive with dark tinted windows.
‘Hey, you’re trespassing,’ she called out as she climbed out of the cab. She strode toward the car, hands on hips. Bloody teenagers. Were they hiding in the car? Yeah, they oughta be scared.
‘If you don’t clear out of here right now, I’m calling the cops, and then your parents.’ She stopped in front of the driver’s window, then peered through the glass. The seat was empty. She frowned.
‘Where—’
Something moved in the reflection of the window, and she turned, just in time to see the fist before it hit her face, and then she didn’t see anything.
Chapter Four
Mac rested his elbows on the bed, and stared at the woman beneath the covers. Jacinta’s complexion was pale save for the blue bruise on her left cheekbone and temple. His stomach clenched. She looked so vulnerable beneath the white woven blanket. She had a slight smattering of freckles over her nose, freckles that he hadn’t noticed so much against her tan, but they were now distinct against her pale skin.
He reached over and gently smoothed back a lock of brown hair that had fallen over her brow. Jac had been brought in unconscious to the Echo Springs hospital. His stomach muscles clenched. How the hell had this happened? It was freaky, seeing her so still. So … inert.
Her dark eyelashes fluttered, and he removed his hand from her forehead. Her eyelashes fluttered some more, then flickered open. Relief flooded him as he met her groggy blue-eyed gaze. He’d never realised how beautiful those eyes were until they were covered by the cloak of unconsciousness.
Her eyebrows dipped, and she winced a little as she blinked. ‘Wha—?’ She made a move, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.
‘Easy, Jac. Don’t move.’ He leaned over and pressed the buzzer by the hospital bed.
‘Where am I?’ she whispered, her voice husky. She gazed around the room in confusion, then glanced back at him. She stared at him for a moment. ‘Am I—is this a dream?’ she whispered in wonder.
He smiled reassuringly at her. ‘No, Jac. You’re in Echo Springs hospital.’
‘What happened?’
‘I was hoping you could tell me that.’
A nurse bustled into the room and smiled at Jacinta. ‘Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty. How are you feeling?’
‘Sore,’ Jacinta rasped, and the nurse nodded.
‘I can imagine. Let me get you some water, and I’ll fetch the doctor to come have a look at you.’
Jacinta looked at Mac. ‘How did I get here?’
Mac winced. ‘Scott found you out in a paddock, unconscious.’
She raised her hand to her cheek, and her lips firmed. ‘Someone hit me.’
Mac stilled. ‘What?’
‘I heard a car, saw the lights, so I went out to tell whoever it was to get off our land—’
Mac frowned. ‘You went out to face down trespassers by yourself?’
‘I thought they were teenagers, like Brayden,’ she argued.
He closed his eyes. ‘Why would you think that?’
She frowned. ‘Why wouldn’t I? Who else would be out there?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, hunters, maybe?’ Or maybe more guys like Brett Pearce…
She shook her head. ‘Most of them around here know to ask permission, first. No hunter is going to venture onto private property to hunt without permission, and all our gates are clearly marked.’
‘What if it was friends of Brayden? Didn’t you think that maybe it would be dangerous for you to talk with them?’ He tried to work the conversation around diplomatically.
‘I never thought teenagers would hit me, Mac,’ Jacinta muttered.
‘Did you see who hit you?’
‘No, it happened so fast.’
‘So you can’t identify him? Or her?’
She frowned. ‘I think it was a him.’ She raised her hand to touch her cheek. ‘He hit me with his fist.’
Mac pursed his lips. ‘He hit you with his fist, but you didn’t see him in front of you?’
She shook her head, then winced. ‘No,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I pretty much turned to face whoever it was, but all I can remember is turning into the fist in my face… I didn’t see anything beyond that.’
How convenient. Was it someone connected to the drug operation? Retribution, perhaps, for losing their lab? She had to know, surely, yet she wasn’t telling him anything he could use.
The doctor entered the room and smiled.
‘Ah, you’re alert. How do you feel?’ He pulled a pencil light out of his pocket.
‘Sore,’ Jac muttered.
The doctor flashed his light in her eyes, and asked her to track some movements. Mac stepped out of the room to let the man examine her, and bumped into Scott Nielsen.
‘Is she awake?’ Scott asked, his expression taut with worry.
Mac tried not to resent the man for his concern. He nodded. ‘Yeah.’
‘Did she say what happened?’
Mac turned back to look at the doorway. ‘She reckons someone hit her.’
Scott frowned, then shook his head. ‘There was nobody else out there.’
Mac glanced at the man, his expression intent. ‘Tell me again. What happened?’
‘I woke up when I heard the ute start up. By the time I got out of bed and looked out the window, she was bumping along a track. I couldn’t figure out what she was doing, but when I didn’t hear her return I got dressed and drove out after her in my truck. When I got to her car, she was out cold on the ground. I thought she’d tripped over—the ground was pretty rough, and even though she had her headlights on, there were dark patches in the uneven areas.’
Mac frowned. ‘Did you see anyone else out there?’
Scott shook his head. ‘Nope. Didn’t see anyone, didn’t hear anyone. Just Jac.’ Scott hesitated, then rubbed his chin. ‘You don’t think she was maybe sleepwalking, do you?’
‘Is that something she does?’
Scott waved his hand. ‘I know she talks in her sleep, and she can be restless. She wandered into the kitchen one night and then didn’t have any memory of it the next morning…’
Mac kept his expression calm. Scott knew she talked in her sleep. Had found her in the kitchen one night. He could feel his muscle tick in his jaw. So what if Jac was sleeping with the station manager? She was a grown woman, now. It shouldn’t matter who she spent her nights with.
It shouldn’t, and he refused to wonder why it kind of did.
He nodded. ‘Okay, thanks.’
The doctor steppe
d out into the hallway, and lifted his chin when he saw the men waiting.
‘She’s had a bump to the head, and the scans we took earlier indicate a mild concussion, but in light of her recent visit, we’ll keep her in overnight and monitor her, just to be on the safe side. I’ll come back and check her in the morning, but for now she’s staying put.’
Mac nodded. ‘Thanks, Doc.’
The doctor glanced between the two men. ‘Will one of you come back tomorrow when she’s released? I don’t think she should drive, in her state.’
‘I will,’ Mac responded quickly, then looked at Scott. ‘I’ll take a statement from her and drive her home.’
‘I can pick her up if you like, save you a trip.’
Mac’s lips tightened into a smile. ‘It’s no trouble. Besides, if she’s here, she might need you to do her chores back home.’
Scott’s lips pursed. ‘Yeah, sure. Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you change your mind.’
Mac nodded, then waited. Scott looked between him and the doctor, and then Jac’s door. ‘She should probably rest, right Doc?’ Mac asked casually. He didn’t want to look into why he felt this inclination to insert a little distance between Jac and her handsome station manager. It was instinctive, and he was happy to go with it.
The doctor nodded. ‘Yeah. We’ll be waking her up during the night to check on her, so whatever shut-eye she can manage is for the best.’
Scott cleared his throat, then nodded. ‘Okay. Well, I’ll be off.’ He jerked his chin at Mac, and then sauntered back down the hall.
Mac looked at the doctor. ‘I might just pop in and have a quick word, but I’ll be back in the morning for her.’ He handed the man his card. ‘Call me if you need to.’
The doctor nodded, sliding the card into his coat pocket before wandering on down the hall.
Mac stepped quickly into the room. It was darker, now, the main light switched off, with just a small light on over her bed. Jac was lying in the bed with her arms folded, and damned if she didn’t have a pout on.
‘I want to go home,’ she said.
‘You can’t,’ he told her firmly.
‘I hate hospitals,’ she cried softly. He fought back a smile.
‘Suck it up, Buchanan. It’s just for one night.’
Her eyes shone, as though she was fighting back tears, and he frowned as he approached her. ‘Hey, it’s okay, Jac. It’s just for one night, you’re going home in the morning.’ He put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a casual, friendly pat of assurance.
She blinked rapidly, tilting her head back as though working against gravity. ‘I just want to be home in my own bed,’ she said.
‘And you’ll get there, just let these guys look after you for one night,’ he told her. His lips curved. ‘I never knew you could be such a wuss. What’s so big and scary about a hospital?’
She flicked her gaze to his. ‘Mum went into a hospital, and never came out,’ she said in a low voice. Then she shrugged. ‘Before the other night, I hadn’t been in a hospital since Dad’s accident.’
Mac closed his eyes. You dick. Her aversion to hospitals made so much sense now, as did her rush to check out the last time she’d been in. He was a prime idiot for not thinking of it before. Bloody hell. And he was now a detective.
Dick.
He opened his eyes, and rubbed her arm. ‘I’m so sorry, Jac. I didn’t even think…’
She sniffed, then lifted his chin. ‘It’s not your fault. Not your problem.’ She made a half-hearted gesture toward the door. ‘I’m fine if you need to go.’ She flicked him a quick glance.
Pig’s arse, she’d be fine. She’d developed quite the poker face, but he still knew her well enough to know when she was trying to brazen her way through something when she was anxious. Like when he’d borrowed The Amityville Horror from the video store and he and Jamie had watched it, along with Jac—until she’d bolted from the room.
He hooked the leg of one of the visitor’s chairs with his foot and dragged it over. ‘Nah, I can hang for a while,’ he told her. He positioned the chair close to the bed and sat down, raising his feet to rest on her bed.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ she said dryly.
He grinned. ‘Thanks, I will. Hey, did you hear the Black Cockatoos made the finals?’ The local cricket team was having a stellar season.
‘Really? When’s that match?’ Jac said through a yawn.
‘Two weeks. They have a bye this weekend.’
‘That’s nice,’ she said softly. She moved her hand out from her side, and he reached for it, his fingers sliding between hers. She gave him a gentle squeeze in acknowledgment.
‘Uh-huh. First time in seventeen years we’ve made the finals. They’re talking about making it a bit of an event,’ he said, eyeing her. She blinked slowly.
‘Really? Like how?’ Her words were slow, and she yawned again.
‘Oh, barbeque, cake stall, raffles—they may even get Dave Baker’s band to play.’ He kept talking in a low voice, and gradually her blinks got longer and longer, her breathing deepened, and her hand relaxed in his. After a while he stopped talking and just sat there in the low light, holding her hand as she slept. He brushed his fingers over her knuckles. Her skin was surprisingly soft. Smooth. Silken.
He scooted his butt forward in the chair so that he could tilt his head against the low backrest, and stared at the perforated ceiling.
Scott thought she’d been sleepwalking. Can you drive a vehicle in your sleep? He didn’t know. His head rolled to the right so he could look at her, and his gaze was drawn to the bruise on her cheek. Had she tripped and fallen? Or had someone really attacked her?
His hold on her hand became firm. If it was the latter, god help the bastard who dared to lay a hand on her, because he’d make sure the guy lived to regret it.
Mac flinched awake. He could hear yelling down the hall. He glanced over at Jac. Her eyes were still closed, her chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm beneath the thin hospital gown.
And he was staring at her chest. Mac blinked, and sat up—oh, crikey, his neck ached—and he looked toward the door. What was going on? He swung his legs off the bed and strolled to the door, rubbing the back of his neck. There was more yelling—although the words were indistinguishable.
He strode down the hall, stretching his neck, and stopped at the door to Casualty. Constable Ben Fields wore a bored expression as he cuffed a man to a bed. Mac walked through the swing doors, and Ben smiled when he saw him.
‘Hey, Mac. What are you doing here?’
‘Jac Buchanan got knocked out at Bulls’ Run, and I was just, uh,’ he frowned, ‘interviewing her. She’s fallen asleep, though.’
‘Hey, I wan’ sumpin’ to eat,’ the man hollered from his bed.
Mac looked at him. ‘Hey, Jim. What brings you here?’
Jim Howard was the town’s mechanic and frequent visitor to the Echo Springs cells on a Friday or Saturday night. He was also one of Mac’s father’s friends.
Jim smiled serenely. ‘I think I broke my leg.’
Ben shook his head. ‘Sprained ankle, methinks.’
Mac eyed the cuffs and raised his eyebrows. Ben grimaced. ‘Found him fighting Gerry Sinclair. He was still a little … testy, when I got there.’
Mac’s lips pressed together. Jim was usually a good bloke, but when he got a drop in him, he could be a rowdy mongrel. Still, his father would insist Mac be completely fair with the man. ‘Jim, why were you fighting Gerry?’
‘He accused me of trying to run over his old lady,’ Jim exclaimed, his expression showing his offence at the suggestion.
Mac flicked a glance at Ben, who gave a slight shrug. His shoulders lowered a little. Ah, damn it. ‘When did this happen?’ he enquired casually, then held up his hand at Jim’s frown. ‘Sorry, when does Gerry think this happened?’
‘Just before this bugger picked me up,’ Jim said, gesturing toward Ben.
‘So you were driving,’
Mac said, his voice low.
‘Well, how else am I going to get home?’ Jim responded.
‘Did you hit Gwen Sinclair with your car?’ Mac was already tugging his phone out of his pocket.
‘No!’ Jim exclaimed. ‘And I wasn’t trying to, either.’ The man sniggered. ‘Not without a bullbar, anyway.’
Ben closed his eyes and shook his head, then looked at Mac. ‘They were tussling on the street. When Gerry talked about “hitting” his wife, I thought he meant with a fist, not a car.’
Jim snorted. ‘I’d need knuckle-dusters for that, and I’m fresh out. That woman has a jaw the size of—’
‘Jim, were you driving tonight?’ Mac interrupted, knowing full well the size of Gwen Sinclair’s jaw. He hoped, prayed the man would have enough sense to think about his response.
‘Hey, I was on my way home, minding my own business,’ Jim stated. ‘Then Gwen jumped out in front of me. Didn’t know a woman her size could move that fast, frankly. She’s damn lucky she’s still in the land of the living, if you ask me.’
Mac shook his head, then held out his hand. ‘Keys. Now.’
Jim blinked, and awareness slowly flared within his glazed eyes. ‘Wait—’
‘No. Now, Jim.’ Mac’s tone was firm.
Jim grumbled under his breath as he pulled out his keys, and slipped the car key off his ring.
‘All of the cars, Jim,’ Mac said brusquely, knowing too well who he was talking to. The man had a yard full of clients’ cars, but also a couple of cars he used as courtesy vehicles to rent to clients while their vehicles were in the shop for repair.
‘But that’s my business, Mac,’ Jim protested.
Mac leaned down so he could meet the man’s eyes on the same level. ‘Then perhaps you’ll think next time you drink and drive. Hell, Jim, you could have hit Gwen Sinclair—or anybody else, for that matter. I don’t know the full details, but knowing Gerry, if all you walk away from this with is a sprained ankle, then consider yourself lucky.’
‘How am I supposed to work?’ Jim snapped, his hand tightening into a fist, the cuff clanging against the bed rail.
‘Be thankful you live another day to worry about having to walk, mate.’ He glanced at Ben. ‘Breathalyse him, and request bloods and urine. I’ll go talk with the Sinclairs.’
Hope Echoes Page 4
