‘So how old is…’
‘We guesstimate that Caesar is around 95.I’m hoping he’ll make a hundred so he can get one of those fancy letters from the king to celebrate his birthday.’
‘So, he’s okay in here.’Was the panelling strong enough to hold something as big as Caesar, when the beast was three times as wide as Stone.
‘I tried to let him go, but Caesar refused to leave.It’s the same story with Snag.Bones I carted up to the higher freshwater rivers, where he’d be safe.But it only took the little bugger two weeks to crawl back home, demanding I let him back in.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Every wet season, I’ll leave the gates open on high tide to give them the chance to skip to the flood plain.’Stone nodded at the expansive land that connected to a river.‘But they never do.’
‘Why would they want to, when they’re being fed so well, and have their private resorts to call home.They’d feel safe.’
‘Yeah, it’s home.’Stone nodded at Caesar as he closed the door to his pen with a solid click.Then he noted the time on his watch.‘I’ve gotta go.I’m chasing daylight.’Stone headed back to the house with Finley’s wheels rumbling after him.
‘Your room is this way.’Scooping up her bags by the front door, Stone passed the large dining table and headed down a small corridor, to push open a door.‘The bed has clean sheets from the last backpacker.Just do the same when it’s your turn to leave.’His speech was so well rehearsed, like the way a hotel clerk checked in their guests.‘Tucked behind the kitchen is the laundry, with plenty of septic-safe soaps and detergents.So please be wary of what shampoos you use while staying, if you don’t mind.’
‘They’re safe.I understand about septics, from working in remote film locations in the past.Some of those places didn’t even have plumbing.’
‘Well, at least you have your own bathroom down here.Spare soap, toothpaste and towels are in the cupboard.There’s plenty of food in the fridge with stacks of snacks in the kitchen’s pantry.Booze is in the outdoor bar where you’ll find the wi-fi password taped to the fridge.’He dropped her case beside the queen-size bed, then walked out, ripping off his dirty shirt to disappear in the other direction.
‘And your room?’
‘Other side of the house.’His voice travelled down a distant corridor.
She found her way back to the dining room, as Stone returned to the kitchen pulling on a long-sleeved shirt he tucked into clean jeans, before sliding on a stockman’s wide-brimmed hat.
Now he looked like one of the Stock Squad in those clothes—not the crocodile wrangler who’d been tramping through the mud all morning.
‘My numbers are on the board next to the phone over there.Feel free to use it to ring your mother and tell her you’re safe,’ he said, while buttoning up his shirt, covering his tan and toned torso that made her stomach flutter.‘If you know how to use a radio, there’s one by the bar with my call sign taped to it.I don’t know when I’ll get back, as I have a feeling it’ll be a late one.’Stone squatted down to pat the turtle.‘You be good, Finley, and assist Romy with her work.And I’ll expect an updated report when I get back about this documentary, direct from the director.’He then winked at Romy before closing the front door behind him.
‘I didn’t say I was doing it,’ she yelled.
‘Don’t forget to call your mother.’Stone’s laugh came from the other side of the door, soon followed by the sounds of the ute’s engine.Leaving her home alone with one turtle, a tank full of fish, and three fully grown man-eating crocodiles, all belonging to a guy she’d only met this morning.
Eleven
The dust curled around the edges of the helicopter’s rotating blades as it landed back on earth, light as a feather.Stone went through his usual landing checks until the blades became still, and then unclipped his seatbelt.
Cowboy Craig jumped out of the passenger seat and adjusted his white stockman’s hat.‘Finn says we’ve got to wear our ID if we’re popping in on people like this.Said it saves them from asking for it later.Or we wear those hot vests.’
‘I’ll take the badge, even if it feels so official.’Stone flipped open the leather wallets, exposing the federal badge, and clipped it to his belt.‘Do you know The Vegan?’
‘She’s the town’s activist, right?’
Stone nodded.
‘Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure.’Craig thoughtfully rubbed his jaw while heading for the dirt track they’d been following from the crocodile farm.‘As a stock inspector, we’ve clashed a few times in the stockyard when she was protesting.’
‘What did she do?’
‘In town one day, she decided to chain herself to the stockyard’s front gate, with over twenty padlocks.We reckon she bought out all the locks and heavy chain from the local hardware store.’
‘How long did it disrupt the stockyards?’The Elsie Creek stockyards was a busy place, with a tight schedule to keep.Loaded cattle trucks came from all over to make the train.And cattlemen did not take kindly to being made to wait, not when it came to their livestock.
‘Not long.The Vegan didn’t realise that most stockmen carry some sort of bolt cutters in the back of their utes as part of their jobs fixing fences.But get this?’Craig’s grin grew wide.‘The stockmen only cut down a few chain links, just enough to open the gate, leaving The Vegan to hang there still chained to that fence.’Craig’s laugh echoed off the desolate scrublands that surrounded them.
‘How long was she hanging there?’Stone shook his head, the chuckle bubbling from his chest.
