Terror Stash by Tracy Cooper-Posey Read Free Book Online Page A

them all one more time. Some of the defensiveness in their postures had loosened. A couple even nodded back.
    He turned and headed back for the car, Chris slogging through the sand beside him. “That was her, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly. “The wind-surfer?”
    “What about her?”
    “Your girlfriend.” Chris grinned.
    Steve sighed theatrically. “Y’know, I mentioned her—what?—once, maybe twice, nearly a year ago. When are you going to stop giving me shit about it?”
    “Never, mate. Never.”
    * * * * *
    Montana watched the two officers walk back to their cruiser. The older one kept turning his head, taking in the people accumulating on the beach. It was going to be a hot day. The beach was filling up despite the high waves and choppy crosscurrents making the water a mess for both surfers and swimmers. He was checking them out, looking for potential trouble.
    He was clearly good at his job. He could have been much more arrogant and overbearing. She closed her eyes for a second, let the gold badge on his pocket slide back into her mind’s eye. She reread the inscription there. Cpl. S. Scarborough . She had been careful not to focus sharply on it while they’d been talking because she hadn’t wanted him to notice her attention to such a detail.
    “You really work for the American consulate?” Bruce asked.
    “I really do.” She looked at her watch. “What time’s drinks at the Pink Galah tonight?”
    “Oh, four-ish. Session times. You know.”
    She did. It was Sunday. Pubs in Western Australia only opened between four and seven-thirty on Sundays—the notorious Sunday Session when regular drinkers packed the bars, getting their quota for the day. Good pubs would lay on a decent live band, put on a wild party and sell as much alcohol in those few hours as they did all day long during the week.
    “So, we’ll see you there?” Bruce asked.
    “Sure.” Keeping it really casual, she added, “Oh and hey, do you know a guy called Stewart Connie?”
    Bruce shrugged. “Sure.”
    “You do?” She was astonished. Finally, was she about to get a break here? “You’re the only one around here that does. Is he here today? He’d have to be one the hardest guys in the world to find.”
    This time, it was Bruce that was astonished. “ You’re looking for him? Stewart Connie?”
    She could feel caution flood her. “Sure. Is that a problem?” There was something going on here that she didn’t understand. Bruce’s face was normally open, good natured and as easy to read as a book but now it was like an internal shutter dropped down behind the back of his eyes.
    He shrugged. “I haven’t seen him here today, but he’s most prob’ly going to be at the pub tonight. He likes to hang out where there’s lots of folk.”
    “Like there isn’t here?” The beach had quickly filled with weekend tourists, families and casual swimmers. The surfers were filtering away. Their best hours were early and late in the day.
    Bruce was already heading for the car park, leaving her question unanswered. “Bruce?” she called.
    “Later!” he called back. It was friendly enough.
     

Chapter Five
    Caden found Ria in the garden, sitting in the dense, cool shade beneath the pergola. She had been repotting something unrecognizable, but sat back and pulled off her gloves when he sat at the table opposite her.
    “You’re just in time for lunch.” Then she pressed her forefinger against her pursed lips. “Oh, dear,” she said. “You don’t look very happy, Caden.”
    “I’m not,” he growled. “I found out this morning that Stewart Connie has started up business again.”
    “Dear me.” She sighed. “Didn’t you make...an arrangement with him a few years ago?”
    Caden almost smiled at her euphemism. “You could say that,” he agreed. “I’ve been floating around Margaret River and Yallingup for the last couple of hours, looking for him, but he’s changed his locale since the last time we chatted.”
    Ria