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  A big fist grabbed Lou’s heart and squeezed hard as she watched Piper sitting there asking her about her biggest secret. Lou’s breath sped up, all the blood rushing to her extremities. Everything seemed to slow down as she wondered whether she should tell this girl what happened. It might help Piper understand why Lou wasn’t on great terms with her mother. The sounds of the little cafe seemed to press in on Lou; the smell of lemongrass and cumin curled nauseatingly in her nostrils and a wild desire to tell Piper everything hammered at her ribs, but the words felt huge and prickly in her mouth.

  She took a breath.

  ‘Here we go!’ Franklin set two platters down in front of them with a wild flourish, shattering the moment that had filled Lou up with equal amounts dread and hope. Lou’s eyes settled on Piper’s platter: a blue earthenware bowl of soup competing with a modest mountain of glistening mushroom risotto. Her eyes flicked to her own dish – a matching blue bowl of steaming dhal framed by a salad so green and fragrant that it brought to mind the original fairy tale of Rapunzel, and the wild salad craved by an expectant mother.

  Lou and Piper murmured thanks, and Lou watched as Franklin retreated carefully, like he realised he’d broken a moment.

  Piper opened her mouth to speak again, picking up her spoon and eyeing her soup, but as she did Lou’s eyes were drawn to the door by the tinkling bells announcing the entry of another customer. Her hands went clammy as she watched the couple swing through the door, flushed and chatting like newlyweds.

  Sharni.

  And Matt.

  Lou’s appetite shrivelled as she watched her best friend walk up to the counter with the devil himself. She pushed back her chair, muttered, ‘Sorry about this, I’ll be back in a tick,’ to Piper, and stalked to the counter, where an unsuspecting Franklin was greeting the new arrivals.

  ‘Don’t take this personally, Franklin, but I think I just lost my appetite,’ Lou announced, causing Sharni and Matt to spin to face her.

  Sharni’s mouth formed a pretty O. ‘This isn’t how it looks,’ she said, reaching out to squeeze Lou’s arm. She smiled weakly at Matt, who was grinning, blond and victorious.

  ‘You sure, hon?’ Lou could hear the ice in her voice, but she didn’t need to, because she could feel it freezing up her larynx on the way out. ‘’Cause it sure looks like you’re having lunch with Matt.’ She wouldn’t look at him; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. ‘Your ex, Matt; remember? The one who broke your heart when he cheated on you with the baby next door.’

  Matt couldn’t take this public outing of his misdeeds lying down. ‘Sharni’s a more forgiving soul than you, Samuels.’ He always said her name with a long hiss of disgust.

  ‘Nah, Matt,’ Lou said, still refusing to meet his eyes and focusing instead on Sharni’s distressed green ones. ‘She’s not. She’s stuck so many pins in voodoo dolls of you over the years, it’s a wonder your dick can work at all. Although, of course –’ She broke off to smile apologetically at Franklin, whose beautiful brown eyes were like saucers of fudgy chocolate milk as the three of them faced each other down. ‘We know it does, as do half the women in Sydney.’ Lou scratched her chin. ‘And doubtless more than half the women in the Mountain.’

  ‘Hey don’t look at me,’ Franklin said, eyeing Matt distastefully. ‘I’ve never slept with him. He is so not my type.’

  Lou liked this boy more and more every moment.

  ‘Wise man,’ Lou said, her hands on her hips, trying to work out what the hell Sharni would be doing lunching with this schmuck, after – well, after everything, not least of which was the other night at the reunion and Matt leaving Sharni to face down Shazza Maclean solo while he held up the bar with stories of the good old days.

  ‘And I have no intention of sleeping with him, either,’ Sharni articulated carefully, although Lou noticed her gaze flick downwards and to the left when she said it, a sure sign she was not being one hundred per cent truthful. Aha – so at the very least she’d thought about it.

  ‘We’re just catching up. Matt stopped by to tell me he’s been investing in art and has made some good contacts.’ Her lovely green eyes appealed to Lou, who was unmoved. ‘Back in Sydney,’ she added unnecessarily, as though Lou needed to be reminded the art world of Stone Mountain wasn’t such a happening scene.

  ‘Mmm …’ Finally, Lou looked at Matt. He was dressed in an achingly cool green business shirt and casual khaki pants that fitted well on his long legs. His floppy blond hair teased the edge of one eyebrow, and he flashed his dimples at Lou once he knew she was paying attention, along with the baby blues that had driven the girls and women of Stone Mountain mad for years.

  Lou looked back at Sharni. She didn’t care who heard her; she didn’t care what the consequences were; she didn’t care if she got slapped with a defamation suit so big and ugly she’d be tied up in court for years. Her heart hurt watching her best friend – her beautiful, creative, trusting best friend – with this pretty creep. She thought about all the tears Sharni had shed over this boy over the many years Lou had known her – teenage tears, and then grown-woman tears, and then deserted-wife tears. She got it – some women had a soft spot for some men. She’d seen it with her own mother. A soft-inthe-head spot.

  But she also knew Sharni had been happy and growing stronger these last two years. The last thing she needed was Matt bloody Finlay back on the scene, wrapping her up in his silky prison all over again.

  ‘Don’t do it, Sharni,’ Lou said, projecting as clearly as she could so there could be no mistake later. ‘Just don’t. Don’t have lunch with him. Don’t listen to him. Don’t look at his lying snake face and his deceptive eyes. Don’t let him touch you; don’t let him sweet talk you. And most of all –’ She slowed right down as she got to the bit she really wanted to emphasise. ‘Don’t believe one word he says about art, or great opportunities for you, or being different, or any of his slimy lies. Matt’s a player. And he isn’t good enough to lick the toe of one of your cowboy boots.’

  ‘Cowgirl boots,’ Sharni corrected her automatically.

  But Matt was pissed. He pushed close to Lou and there was something shadowy and cornered in his face – something older than the last time she had seen him. He lifted a hand and poked Lou hard in the chest, just above her breasts. ‘Now listen, Samuels –’

  But he didn’t get to finish. Before Lou realised exactly what had happened, Franklin was out from behind the counter and had knocked the offending hand away from her. His wise, geeky, boy-man face was suddenly hard and determined, as he shoved Matt aside and pointed to the door. He didn’t seem like a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old kid; he seemed pissed, and authoritative. ‘Out,’ he said, his voice breaking a little as he barked the order.

  Matt grinned at him. ‘What, the waitress is evicting me? What for? Bad manners?’

  ‘Matt.’ Sharni was holding up her hands, trying to defuse the situation as Franklin’s sweet face radiated a warning. Lou felt a momentary flash of guilt that her verbal assault on Matt had started this. She really was just as impulsive as Gage in some ways. She flicked a glance at Piper, who was moving over.

  ‘Aw come on, sweetie pie,’ Matt said to Sharni, pushing Franklin back hard in the chest. ‘He wants to play grown-ups, he needs to learn how it works in the big league.’

  ‘Don’t push him, you dickhead,’ Piper said, moving close to Franklin. Oh crap. Lou grabbed her hand.

  ‘Or what, baby?’ Matt appraised Piper quickly, and Lou knew she wasn’t imagining the predatory narrowing of those bluer-than-sky eyes. Matt held up his fists. ‘You gonna fight me?’ He flashed a grin at her. ‘Last thing I want to do is fight you.’ He might as well have said, ‘You, with the hot, tight, little body.’

  Sharni looked green as the scene unfolded.

  ‘Careful, mate,’ Piper said, a little shiver running through her. ‘The last guy who made a move on me almost got shot.’

  ‘By your boyfriend here?’ Matt scoffed, yanking a thumb at Franklin.


  Piper’s eyes widened, as though in genuine surprise that anyone would think that.

  Matt turned to the boy. ‘She your little bitch? Punching above your weight, aren’t you?’

  Sharni hissed an expletive at Matt, but Franklin was quicker. In what looked like an effortless gesture, almost a caress, he leaned over and punched Matt hard in the jaw. Lou was amazed at the boy’s quiet strength. His face remained passive as he punched, only a slight world-weariness crossing his features, as though he was a much older person who was still amazed by the folly of young men.

  Matt stumbled backwards, swearing, and ended up half-sprawled across a round table carved with moons and stars.

  ‘Usually,’ Piper said, crossing her arms as her face clouded over, ‘it’s my dad. But Franklin will do.’

  Matt dragged himself up from the table and ran his hands through his hair like he’d had enough of this little charade. ‘You.’ He pointed at Franklin. ‘You’ll be hearing from the cops.’ He made for the door, holding out a hand to Sharni.

  She shook her head quickly and moved over to Lou.

  Matt smiled again, but this time there was a viciousness to it that almost took Lou’s breath away. He pointed at Piper. ‘Go tell your fat old man I’m happy to take him on any day.’ He smiled carnivorously. ‘Hell, I probably whipped his arse back in the day. What’s his name?’

  ‘Gage Westin.’ The way Piper said the name made Lou smile on the inside. There was so much pride and knowledge in it.

  Matt stopped, his face betraying his surprise. And something else; something swift and calculating, which Lou tried to fit into the picture of what she knew about Matt and Gage. Never friends. Football teammates maybe. Matt would be, should be, wary of Gage, who was a far tougher customer than he would ever be. So what else was lurking in that face?

  ‘Gage? Gage is your dad?’ Matt moved towards Piper.

  Franklin stepped forwards and pointed to the door again. ‘Mister,’ he said, his face hard and wild, ‘next time I ask you to leave I won’t go so easy on you.’

  Chapter

  8

  True colours

  Lou and Sharni were sitting in the shade on Gage’s veranda. Bo had taken one look at them when they had pulled up with Piper, quiet and preoccupied, and brought them each a glass of wine. Lou had hesitated to take it, knowing Bo’s history, but he had smiled at her in that sweet, shy way she was getting to know and said, ‘Seventeen years dry; I promise I can watch you drink without falling off the wagon.’

  Lou had nodded, and they had drunk greedily. But it had taken some time before they’d spoken. Sometimes old friendships were like that; you needed to do your thinking together first.

  ‘Why is he even still here?’ Lou’s brain was spinning like the tyres of a four-wheel drive stuck in the red mud of the mountain. ‘I get him coming for the reunion – Matt needs the reassurance of this place like a dying man needs water – but why is he still hanging around?’ She raised an eyebrow at Sharni. ‘Is it for you?’

  Sharni frowned, taking a long sip of the excellent cold pinot gris. ‘No,’ she said, twirling a red curl around one finger. ‘I don’t think so. I mean, I know he was surprised.’ She flapped a hand. ‘The other night, at the reunion. You know what he’s like.’

  Lou nodded. Hell yeah, she knew what he was like. Like a parasite. Like a handbrake. Like a lousy sleazy waste of good years of life. But she didn’t say any of that. ‘You mean he was surprised about how you looked?’

  Sharni nodded, her eyes cast down.

  Lou sniffed. ‘What a dufus.’

  Sharni nodded and then smiled wryly to herself. ‘I’m the dufus, actually,’ she said in a low, melancholy-tinged voice. ‘Any sad scrap of attention from that man and I still come running.’

  Lou patted Sharni’s leg. ‘Don’t beat yourself up,’ she said. ‘We all have weaknesses.’

  Sharni nodded, motioning to the house. ‘So how’s yours going?’

  What could Lou say? She hadn’t told Sharni about the incident in the stables, or the one on the mountain afterwards. That was weird; Lou and Sharni told each other everything. But Lou knew once she spoke it aloud, it would be real. And she had no idea what to do about it. Another day had passed without seeing Gage, and she knew for sure now that he was avoiding her as concertedly as she was avoiding him.

  ‘Don’t change the subject,’ she said finally. ‘Why do you think Matt’s here?’

  Sharni shrugged. ‘Some deal,’ she said quietly.

  Lou knew all about Matt’s deals from years of being Sharni’s best friend, but also from the Sydney scene. Sydney was big, but it wasn’t that big. Matt was good at what he did, even if what he did seemed to be mostly connecting the right people and their money. He was good, but he also rode the edge of dodgy. He’d never been caught doing anything illegal, but from what Lou had heard, he had his fingers in some strange pies.

  She looked out across the property. The near paddocks sat green and neat in the surrounding drought-ravaged land. This was a hard place, people could get desperate. She thought about what she now knew about the town’s finances, and the dire straits of the local farming community that had fuelled them. What was Matt’s game? Was it a coincidence that he was back in the Mountain at a time when the bottom was falling out of the economy? And did she care?

  Because, right now, all she could think about was keeping him away from Sharni.

  ‘Will you see him again?’ The question hurt, because Lou should know the answer, but she also understood there was something altogether unpredictable about how Sharni felt about Matt Finlay.

  ‘You know what?’ Sharni popped her wine glass on a little rough-hewn side table. ‘I think today might have done me in. Seeing him with those kids …’ She sighed so delicately, Lou, in her slightly intoxicated state, felt as though she might see the sigh fluttering up between them like a flag of surrender. ‘But honestly, I don’t know. I know him, Lou. I really do know him. Behind all that front, and bluster, I know the guy. The real person.’

  Lou tried to stop herself grimacing. ‘There’s a real person in there?’

  Sharni ignored her, and went on, sounding as though she was speaking to herself. ‘If he needed me.’ She paused, looking off across the property. ‘Really needed me, I don’t know that I might not still help him.’

  Lou frowned, and thought about what she had seen in Matt’s face this afternoon. The hardness. She could see in Sharni’s face the faintest trace of worry about him – something was up. ‘You think he’s into something? Something dodgy?’

  Sharni shrugged again. A small frown creased her forehead. ‘Honey,’ she said, picking up her glass again and stroking the stem. ‘I just don’t know.’

  Lou took a deep breath and leaned forwards. It had to be said. ‘I’m sorry, sweetie,’ she said, reaching out to grab one of Sharni’s hands. ‘I shouldn’t have done what I did today. I caused such a scene, and poor Franklin; now I feel a hundred kinds of shitty. He might be in trouble with the cops for punching Matt.’ The thought was terrible. Franklin didn’t deserve to get in trouble because Lou couldn’t control her temper. ‘You know what? Matt was right about something: I should stop interfering.’

  Sharni squeezed Lou’s hands back. ‘Don’t you ever,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t you ever, ever stop interfering. Without you, what am I?’ She leaned back in the old squatter’s chair. ‘I’m screwed, that’s what.’ She drained the last of her pinot gris and stood up. ‘And don’t you worry about Franklin. I know just how to fix that.’

  Lou stood quickly, shaking her head. The last thing she needed was Sharni seeking favours from Matt to clean up her mess. ‘No. No way, sister. I’ll sort this. I’ll talk to Matt.’

  Sharni raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Who said anything about Matt?’ Then she smiled, slow and easy and so like the Stone Mountain Sharni of old that Lou’s insides turned cartwheels. ‘Perhaps I know someone else who might be influential in police matters.’

  Lou’s head went in
to a little spin as she tried to make sense of Sharni’s words. Then something clicked. ‘Sergeant Brooks?’

  Sharni blushed a little. ‘I might have seen him at the co-op. He seems like a reasonable kind of guy. The kind who might appreciate a little backstory to fill out the details of a reported incident.’

  Lou nodded encouragingly. ‘He sure does,’ she agreed. ‘Seems a real stand-up guy.’

  Sharni nodded.

  ‘And cute,’ Lou added.

  Sharni turned from her place at the railing of the veranda. ‘Now don’t you start that,’ she cautioned, waggling a finger at Lou. ‘This would be purely business. A mission of mercy.’

  ‘Of course,’ Lou agreed, sure she could see a twinkle in Sharni’s eyes that she hadn’t seen for a long time. The urge to tell her about Gage and the mountain was strong, but she also knew that it would commit her to working out what to do about it. And for now, she was just enjoying hugging the luscious memory of that afternoon to herself. She knew it made no sense. She knew there was no room for the two of them. She knew she couldn’t play the avoidance game forever.

  But it would do as a strategy for now.

  Lou wasn’t sure exactly what had woken her from the deep slumber that Gage’s little guesthouse seemed to induce. But one thing was for sure – she was awake, and while her physical body was wrapped in the warm doona in the little firelit room, the part of her that was sensory and intuitive was somewhere else, trying to pin down what had pinged her radar. Her skin tingled and heart raced like she was being hunted, and a fat stone sat deep in her belly.

  She rolled over quickly and punched a button to illuminate her phone: 2:23. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded to the window to pull back the curtain. The little cabin offered a sweet vantage point over the front paddocks, and its positioning on a small rise seemed to open up the sky so she could see a million stars. But there was something else. A dark shape moved, quickly but deliberately, not far from the cabin. There was a quality to the movement Lou recognised. It wasn’t Gage, but neither could she pinpoint who owned that stealthy shadow. She threw her dressing gown over the top of her flannelette pyjamas, shucked her feet into a pair of fur-lined ugg boots, and made for the door.