The Golden Stranger (9 page)

At the back of the main arena was a cluster of trucks and horse floats, four-wheel drives and dust-covered vehicles. Beyond that, Shara could see caravans and temporary accommodation. They bought tickets and strolled through the turnstiles into the smell of popcorn, horse hair and sickly-sweet fairy floss.

In the arena the Clydesdale tug-o-war was on, with at least sixty kids braced against a long rope, chattering excitedly. The rope was attached to the harness of two huge feather-legged horses with muscled hindquarters. The announcer bellowed to the handler to take up the slack. ‘Averaging twenty-five kilos per kid, that there is a tonne and a half of kids!'

‘My money's on the Clydies,' said Luke.

‘No way, they'll let the kids win,' said Jess.

Shara thought it looked evenly matched and couldn't decide either way.

They stayed and watched three rounds of squealing children being dragged through the dirt, pulling and laughing and eventually conceding before the wild goat race was announced as the next event.

‘Shoulda brought your coloured hairspray,' said Luke, and Jess punched him on the shoulder.

They left the main arena and mingled with the crowds. There were trade booths filled with sumptuous leather horse gear and country clothing. Agricultural advisors had information tables, and produce companies spruiked their products. The friends strolled between rides and show–bag stalls until they came to a line of bunting flags fencing them off from the trucks and the animals. Men in black T-shirts stood, arms folded, at intervals along the barrier.

Shara scanned the surrounds. ‘How are we going to get out the back?'

‘Let's come in from that park behind,' said Luke. ‘Maybe we can find a section that they've left unguarded.'

They slipped out of the arena perimeters and through some empty pavilions. The showgrounds were immense and the roping finals only filled a small corner of them. As they left the brightly lit commotion behind, trucks and vans formed strange shapes in the darkness, with the occasional human silhouette moving between them. It became quiet and creepy.

‘You guys stay here while I try to find somewhere to get in,' said Luke, staring up at the two-metre cyclone wire fence that stood between them and the competitors' area.

‘How about we check up this way?' Shara pointed in the opposite direction.

‘Okay, meet you back here in ten minutes.' Luke slipped through some shrubs and darted off towards the back of the arena.

Jess and Shara continued along the fence in the direction of a block of stables.

‘Look through there!' said Jess, stopping outside the huge open doorway. ‘There's nothing to stop us walking straight through and out into the competitors' area.'

Shara stared in at the horses tied in the aisle and the riders sitting on buckets cleaning bridles. Jess was right; there was no barrier at all. She looked down at her red skirt and wished she'd worn her old riding jeans. ‘I'm not exactly dressed like a competitor. I'll stand out like stallions' balls.'

‘Won't matter if we're quick.'

‘Should we go and get Luke?'

Jess looked at her watch. ‘He won't be back yet. Let's just have a quick squiz before we meet up with him.'

They walked directly through the stable block, heads high, as if they owned the place. No one seemed to take much notice of them – they just carried on with brushing and watering and feeding horses.

‘Now where?' said Shara as they exited the rear of the building.

‘This way,' said Jess.

Shara followed her across a small exercise arena and continued through dimly lit rows of vehicles, listening to the muffled voices and clinking of cutlery and plates from inside the caravans.

‘Let's keep it low-key,' Jess breathed. ‘If we get busted out here without a pass, we'll get kicked out and then we'll never get the hair sample.'

‘Is that the Connemans' truck?' Shara pointed to the outer rim of the car park, where the top of a semitrailer with livestock crates on the back loomed above the smaller trucks.

‘Sure looks like it,' said Jess. ‘Let's go!'

‘Oh, God,' groaned Shara, uncertainty hitting her like a wave of cement. ‘I really don't know if we should be doing this.'

‘Bit late now,' said Jess, and before Shara could voice any more doubts, she was being led through a dark labyrinth of trailers.

‘Shara?'

Shara froze. That was Corey's voice! He walked towards them in his big black hat and a burgundy red shirt with a roping saddle and a tangle of leather straps in his arms.

‘Hi!' Shara plastered on a huge, nervous smile. ‘What are
you
doing here?'

He gave her a shrewd look. ‘What are
you
doing here?'

‘Just came to watch some roping,' Jess interjected.

Corey addressed Shara. ‘Thought you didn't like rodeo.'

‘Roping's okay,' she shrugged.

‘This is the competitors' area. You riding here?'

‘We're visiting a friend,' said Jess quickly.

Corey stayed focused on Shara. His eyes seemed to go right through her and make the truth impossible to hide. ‘Are you visiting the Connemans?'

‘No! No . . . of course not. We didn't even know they were here.' Shara's voice was a squeaky stammer. She was
so
lying and it was
so
obvious. She could almost hear Jess's groan at her complete inability to keep it together.

‘They're not the sort of people you want to mess with.'

‘Why would we want to mess with them?' said Jess, taking Shara by the arm again. ‘We have to go, or we'll miss the finals.'

‘They're not on for another hour,' said Shara.

‘We have to go anyway.' Jess hauled her away until they were behind a big, stinking rubbish hopper, then spun around to face her. ‘Oh my God, you've totally got the hots for that rodeo schmuck. You were about to tell him everything!'

‘What, are you nuts?' Shara pulled a face. ‘I was just surprised to see him, that's all. It caught me off-guard.'

‘Crap!' said her friend with an appalled laugh. ‘You never smile at
me
like that.'

‘Well, you're not six foot tall with a purebred quarter horse underneath you,' said Shara.

Jess snorted in disgust. ‘He is a total player. Pull yourself together before I slap you!'

Shara rolled her eyes. ‘Let's just go.'

Jess was like a ferret in a rabbit warren, weaving in and out between vans and trucks. Shara could hardly keep up with her. It wasn't long before they realised that there were very few dark places to hide. They zigzagged from shadow to shadow, finding very little cover. If someone was to walk out of their van, they'd be caught, frozen under a porch light with nowhere to run. A dog barked and threw itself at the inside wall of a truck, snarling. Shara jumped backwards.

Two arms caught her and a hand clamped over her mouth. She felt her stomach knot as she was dragged slowly backwards, one step at a time, silently, into a dark space. She could only watch as, up ahead, Jess slipped silently behind a horse truck and disappeared.

‘Sshh,' her assailant whispered into her ear.

From inside the truck, a man's voice growled. ‘Lie down!' There was a yelp and then quiet.

Shara didn't dare breathe. The dog let out a low,
I-know-you're-still-out-there
growl and then yelped as its owner kicked it again.

‘What are you doing back here?' It was Corey. Shara winced as she was spun around. ‘What are you and your mate up to? You're not going to ruin the nationals for everyone with some stupid protest, are you?' His voice was like a sharp pinch.

‘No, we just . . .' How on earth could she explain? She couldn't, she realised – she might as well come clean. ‘We just want to find Goldie's mother,' she said. ‘So we can prove who owns him. We're not—'

‘You don't know who you're messing with,' he hissed, and it left her wondering whether he included himself in that category or whether he was just talking about the Connemans.

‘I'm sorry . . . '

He pointed his thumb back towards the stable. ‘Get out of here before you get busted. Just go home. The animal shelter will sort out who owns that horse.'

‘They can't, not without proof. We just need a DNA sample. A bit of hair, that's all. Then we'll go, I promise. Oh, and a photo.'

She heard Corey exhale.

‘Jess is . . . I have to catch up with her. She's . . . ' Shara pointed to where she had last seen Jess. Damn, now she had lost her, and by now Luke would be waiting for them.

Corey followed her eyes. There was a charged silence.

‘Please?' she whispered.

He looked down at her with a searching face, then somehow his hand found hers. ‘I'll help you find her. Follow me. You'll be okay if you're with a competitor.'

He led her calmly through the maze of trucks with her hand squeezed tightly in his. Shara followed obediently until she saw a large red semitrailer parked by some cattle yards in the distance. ‘That's their truck,' she whispered.

Before Corey could answer, a tall, wiry figure emerged from behind the big semi and walked towards them, with a cigarette smouldering between his lips. Shara felt her heart beat out of whack. Her throat tightened. Corey dropped her hand and kept walking without changing rhythm and she forced her feet to continue alongside him.

Corey nodded as he passed the man. ‘Graham.'

Graham Conneman grunted and a trail of cigarette smoke and BO lingered after him. Corey took Shara's hand again and squeezed it even tighter, as though issuing a warning. Uncertainty beat through her veins. What was she getting herself into? She really didn't know Corey well. Jess was right, he was a player and everyone knew it and now he had her hand in a vice-like grip in some dark alley in Brisbane.

Two large men approached them. Corey pulled Shara to a stop near a long gooseneck trailer and stepped around in front of her to push her against the wall of the truck. He put his face as close as possible to hers without touching, obscuring her view. ‘Don't move,' he murmured, and she felt his breath on her neck. ‘They're security guards. Just play along.' His nose touched her softly beneath her ear, making tingles shoot up her spine. ‘Sorry,' he whispered. Then to her alarm, she felt his leg rub against hers.

‘You got wristbands, kids?' said one of the men as they got closer.

Corey put one arm around Shara's shoulder and held the other up, revealing a paper bracelet with a barcode on it. ‘Competitor, mate.' Shara looked away, thinking she might die of embarrassment.

‘Take that somewhere else, hey?' said the other man, running his eyes over Shara, and to her relief, they kept walking.

She let Corey's hand rest on her waist as he walked her away. His stride was still filled with self-assurance. Jess was right, he was a total sleaze. When she could no longer hear the guards' footsteps, she shoved him off and as she did, her charm bracelet caught on his shirt. ‘What the hell was that?' she said angrily as she tugged at her bracelet. It wouldn't come free.

He stared down at her. ‘I was saving your arse. Don't bother thanking me.'

She glared at him and pulled at his shirt. ‘What for?'

He put his hands over hers and stopped her tugging. ‘There are rodeo groupies out the back all the time, chasing the cowboys. They never worry about it,' he said as he took her wrist in his hand and felt for the bracelet. ‘They'd have kicked you out otherwise.'

‘Yeah, well, that's
not
why I'm here,' she reminded him curtly.

‘I know,' he chuckled. ‘Sorry, I didn't mean to . . . you know . . .' He burst out laughing.

Shara was incensed. Was the thought of really kissing her so hilarious to him? She turned on her heel to find Jess.

‘Hey, you got yourself into this,' he reminded her.

She was about to turn back and give him an earful, but a gentle and unmistakable snort in the back of the red truck made her stop. ‘That was a horse!'

There it was again: a long, blubbery exhalation; the stamp of a hoof; the dull
thud-thud-thud
of poo hitting timber floorboards.

‘It's inside the Connemans' truck.' Shara heard shuffling, chomping, chewing, tearing at hay, familiar sounds that filled her with confidence. She hoped like anything it was the red taffy mare so she could just get her hair sample and get out of there.

‘It'll be the mare you're looking for,' said Corey, as though reading her mind. ‘They keep her as a spare for the wild horse race because she's a brumby. Even though she's been in captivity for years, she's still pretty flighty.'

‘Yeah, well, no wonder, if they brutalise her all the time,' snapped Shara.

‘Want some help?'

‘I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you.'

‘Oh, come on,' he said in a softer voice. ‘I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed at you back there. Let me help you. She can be a real handful, that mare.' He gave her a smile that she still found smirky and arrogant, but kind of cute at the same time.

‘Oh, all right!' she said grudgingly. ‘But don't go grabbing me again, okay? I'm not into cowboys.'

11

SHARA WAS RELIEVED
to find Jess already hanging off the side of the semitrailer when they got to it. Jess looked taken aback when Corey appeared, but Shara put her finger to her lips and mimed
It's okay
.

Jess pointed into the back of the crate. ‘I think we found her!'

Shara raised a foot onto the bar and hoisted herself up against the side of the truck. She peered in through a barred window. Two red eyes glowed back.

Corey hopped up beside her. ‘Is it the mare?'

‘I don't know. I can't see.' She squinted into the black void. Corey pulled out his phone and woke up the screen, then held it up to face the window. In the faint light it shed, Shara could just make out the mare's pale mane. ‘That's her!'