Outback Blaze (22 page)

‘Two horses?' He couldn't keep the skepticism out of his voice and he looked to Roxie and Riley chatting to each other over the fence that divided the two house paddocks. Granted they were impressive-looking beasts, but surely she could have fought for a more impressive monetary settlement and bought a couple of horses.

‘I love those horses.' The simple truth shone through in her choked voice. ‘It was never about the money. Not to me.'

‘Hey, I'm not judging you.' He reached out to her but she flinched and he put his hand back on his lap. ‘You deserved those two horses and so much more. I'm just annoyed that tosser got off so lightly.'

She half-laughed. ‘Roxie and Riley may be pets to me and they may have the relaxed life of teaching kids to ride now, but do you have any idea how much they're worth?'

He shook his head.

‘Although Riley's retired now, he won a number of prestigious races and his brother won the Perth Cup a few years back.'

‘So we're talking big dollars?'

She nodded. ‘And Roxie was one of the Vanderbreks' prime breeding mares but no one could handle her aside from me.'

Frowning, he looked over to the horse that had been eating out the palm of his hand only minutes ago. ‘Are we talking about the same horse?'

Ruby grinned. ‘Yes, for some reason she likes you, but don't for a moment let that sweet face fool you. Still, personality aside, she was important stock. Her first foal came second in the Melbourne Cup and the Vanderbreks sold the second foal, a filly for one point two million.'

Drew let out a low whistle.

‘Exactly,' Ruby said. ‘She still has a few breeding years left, so it was a high price to pay for my silence. Jonas is hardly going to do something that could get himself in trouble and bring the family bad publicity again, is he?'

After what he'd heard, it sounded unlikely, but unlike the arson investigators, he planned to look into it a little more. He had the next two days off work and wouldn't sleep soundly until he knew Jonas Vanderbrek wasn't their arsonist or a threat to the beautiful lady sitting beside him.

Drew rose early Tuesday and took the Brand Highway to Perth, loving the feel of the wind pressing against him as he rode. Back home, he often spent his days off riding from one county to the next. He liked honing his skills riding on windy, narrow country lanes but also the feel of freedom as he zipped past cars on the motorways. Belinda had hated his beast, often whining that he loved it more than her. Feeling the tension creeping into his bones at the thought of his ex, he transferred his thoughts to today's mission. He'd told O'Leary he wanted to go see some sights, which he would do, but the main point of today was a visit to Jonas Vanderbrek. He screwed up his face – even his name made him sound like a tosspot.

After a few hours riding, he stopped at a garage and grabbed a greasy breakfast of a bacon and egg sandwich. As an afterthought he added a Chiko Roll to the order. Mike raved about this Aussie delicacy and had one at least four times a week. So far Drew had resisted Mike's insistence that he try one, citing that they looked like a dog's breakfast deep-fried in paper. He'd never tell Mike he'd eaten one but the fact of the matter was he wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

He took his purchases to his bike and leaned against it as he pushed the Chiko Roll out of its paper bag. Peering at it suspiciously, he wondered how it could be legal to sell something that looked and smelt like that, but never one to shirk a challenge, he dipped his head and took a bite. His tastebuds were pleasantly surprised by the whole experience. Unlikely he'd become as addicted as Mike but he had to admit this strange-looking snack had appeal. While he ate, a couple of lorry drivers waved to him as they passed, arms laden with similar breakfasts to Drew's.

‘Nice bike,' said one of them as he twisted a goatee-beard between his thumb and forefingers.

He swallowed his mouthful. ‘Thanks.'

The bloke stopped and stared longingly at the bike. ‘My Mrs just made me sell mine. We're having a baby. She reckons I need a
responsible
vehicle.'

Drew sympathised with him. He might be alone but at least he didn't have to worry about other people trying to run his life.

‘Ah,' the man sighed deeply. ‘Spose I'd better get back on the road. See ya round, mate.'

Drew doubted it but he smiled and lifted a hand to wave goodbye. ‘See ya.'

Everyone was so damn friendly in Australia. You wouldn't find strangers waving or stopping to chat like this in England. The weather was also a hell of a lot better down here. Although it was winter, the sun shone down, warming his face and hands and he guessed the temp to be about twenty-one degrees. Folks in England would be sunbaking in this kind of weather, yet here they were all wrapped up in scarves and beanies.

Shoving the last bit of roll in his mouth, he screwed up the paper, tossed it into a nearby waste bin and then hit the road again. As he neared the city, the traffic started building up. His GPS system indicated he had over an hour until he reached the Vanderbrek Park Stud, which was situated south of Perth. He made use of the time, thinking over the questions he would ask Ruby's ex.

Finally, after what seemed like forever stuck behind slow moving lorries, he crossed a set of traffic lights and began to climb the hill at Armadale. His research told him Byford wasn't far away and so he slowed, taking in the scenery on either side of the road. After ingesting traffic fumes for the last few hours, the farmyard smells were a welcome change. Many horses and a fair few alpacas grazed under trees in roadside paddocks. Suddenly the Vanderbrek Park Stud was upon him.

He slowed the bike, dropping his feet to the ground to steady himself as he looked up at the massive and pretentious sign looming over the immaculate entrance way. From what he could see from this place, the rain gods adored the Vanderbreks. Lush green paddocks surrounded by bright white wooden fences hung on either side of the long bitumen drive. Tall deciduous trees lined the drive and the horses speckled throughout the paddocks looked as if they should be kept under lock and key. He raised a hand to act as a visor from the sun. A couple of workers wandered between the paddocks and when one of them looked up and saw him, he decided it was time to make his entrance. Revving the bike, he turned down the driveway and headed for the cluster of red brick buildings up ahead. A few hundred metres in, the bitumen forked. Nestled between the two arms stood a two-storey house that erred on the side of mansion with a manicured garden boasting an array of exotic rose species. Off to the left of the forked drive were more buildings – a long one that looked like offices and then further back rows and rows of stables.

It wasn't long before a figure emerged from the office and trotted over to him. Although the woman was tall and willowy and definitely human she smiled and walked like a horse. Drew stifled a smirk as she lifted her head and spoke in very proper tones.

‘May I help you, sir?' She eyed his bike and leather jacket with obvious distaste. ‘Are you lost? Do you need directions?'

‘No.' He shook his head as he climbed off the bike. ‘I'm here to see Jonas Vanderbrek.'

A barely visible crease appeared on her brow. ‘Do you have an appointment?'

‘No.'

‘Well, I'm sorry, but Mr Vanderbrek is a very busy man and I doubt he'll—'

Drew peeled his jacket back slightly and flashed her his Western Australian police ID.

‘I'll tell Jonas you're here.' She turned and click-clacked up the brick path towards the house. He followed her and she grew visibly flustered. When they landed on the front step, she turned. ‘If you'll wait here.'

‘I'm a busy man too, Miss…?'

‘Leah Grant,' she told him, her tone brisk.

‘Miss Grant. So as not to waste Mr Vanderbrek's time I'll come in with you now.'

She opened her mouth to object but hung her head in defeat at the last moment and opened the door, stepping aside to let him into what could only be described as a grand entrance hall. Their footsteps against the tiled floor announced their arrival and a short but thin woman with a face that would have been pretty without all the make-up flounced out of an off-shooting door, flicking long platinum hair over her shoulders as she walked.

‘Who is this, Leah?' The woman looked at Drew as she spoke and he got a weird feeling that he'd seen her someplace before. Maybe she'd been in the society pages of
The West Australian
, not that he made a habit of reading the society pages.

‘I'm sorry, Miss Vanderbrek but this…' She faltered a moment as if annoyed with herself as she realised she hadn't asked Drew his name. ‘This policeman would like to speak to Jonas.'

‘Is that a fact?' The woman folded her arms across a bust that looked as if it might have had the assistance of plastic surgery. ‘And pray tell, what has Jonas done this time?'

‘Nothing as far I'm aware,' Drew replied, bemused by her old-fashioned language. ‘I just need him to help with my enquiries.'

Miss Plastic Surgery shook her head and sighed. ‘You'd better come this way then.'

Leaving Leah Grant, Miss Vanderbrek, whom Drew guessed to be Jonas's little sister, led him into a lounge room decked out with leather couches and a million frames containing horse and jockey photos. A number of china statues and the polished wood floor made the room feel cold, but between the couches lay a cream shag-pile rug, the type that looked impossible to clean but comfy enough to sleep on. A large screen plasma TV hung on one wall, horse racing blaring from all corners of the room and a fake fire glowed under a showy mantelpiece along one wall, making the room warm in temperature despite its visual coldness.

‘Jonas.' Miss Vanderbrek cleared her throat and stormed over to one of the couches. She leaned down and whispered something harshly. A few moments later a head emerged over the back. Jonas, Drew presumed.

As Jonas swung his sock-covered feet off the couch, Drew stepped forward to introduce himself to the man who looked scruffy and out of place in this immaculate room.

‘Good morning. Jonas Vanderbrek I assume?'

Jonas glared at Drew's outstretched hand like it belonged to a leper and instead of shaking it, ran his own hand through his shaggy black hair. ‘Who wants to know?'

‘Oh, stop being a tool, Jonas,' snapped his sister. ‘This man is a policeman and wants to ask you some questions.'

‘About what?' Alert now, Jonas straightened and narrowed his eyes at Drew. ‘I swear I've been a perfect citizen since getting out of prison.'

Pity you still look like an inmate
, Drew thought. Although he imagined, after a haircut, shave and a bit of sprucing up, Jonas
could
look quite the playboy.

‘Excellent, then this won't take long.' Withdrawing his hand, Drew sat down on the couch opposite Jonas. To his amusement and annoyance, Miss Vanderbrek sat beside him. Close enough so that her stocking-covered legs pressed against his thighs.

‘Do you mind giving us some privacy?' he asked.

She didn't move an inch. ‘Actually I do. This is my house and anything that happens in it or to Jonas concerns me.'

‘Are you his mother?'

She looked appalled and thrust a finger towards herself. ‘Do I look old enough to be his mother?' She rubbed her fingers over her face as if checking for wrinkles.

‘No, but I just assumed when you said this was your house…'

‘It's my
family's
house.' She sounded exasperated. ‘And I'm his sister, Saskia Jayne Vanderbrek. If this isn't official then I can't see any reason I should have to find another place to be.'

Drew shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.' Maybe Jonas would feel more at ease, thus be more likely to slip up, if he had family around him. ‘Do you mind if we turn off the television?'

‘Why the hell should we do that?' Jonas practically shouted, his neck muscles bulging as he reached forward and snatched a bottle of beer off the coffee table. He took a swig, then said, ‘Unless you're here to arrest me, the TV stays on. This is an important race.'

‘Fine.' Drew leaned back, wondering if Jonas had an alcohol problem. It wasn't even midday yet and he already appeared to have had a few. ‘I just need to ask you a few questions about the seventeenth of July.'

‘What about it?' Jonas's gaze returned to the big screen as he took another gulp of beer.

‘Doesn't ring a bell?' Drew asked.

Jonas shook his head. ‘Should it?'

Drew offered the jerk a closed-mouth smile. ‘It's the night your ex-fiancée's parents' business burned to the ground in Bunyip Bay. Do you know anything about that?'

‘Why would I?'

Drew watched for signs of guilt as Jonas screwed up his face and snapped his head to look at him. ‘Can't say I was sorry to hear about it happening and before you ask how I knew, it was all over the news, but I wasn't anywhere near that dead-end town that day. I never even went there while I was with Ruby, so why the hell would I want to waste my time now?'

It didn't sound like a practised speech but Drew didn't want to make any judgments just yet. ‘Where were you that night?'

Jonas shrugged. ‘Probably right here on this couch. I haven't felt like doing much else since getting out. Prison does that to a man.'

‘No, you weren't,' Saskia interrupted. She smiled at Drew and inched even closer. Again he had the feeling that he knew her. ‘He was at the rehearsal dinner for a close family friend's wedding, making a speech as part of his best man duties. The wedding was last weekend.'

‘Ah, yes, I was.' Jonas clicked his fingers, pointed them at Drew and then grinned victoriously. ‘Sorry, but I'm not your man.'

Maybe not but you're an absolute slime ball
. As much as he wanted this creep to be his guy, instinct told him otherwise.