Georgie resisted the urge to send Matt a text message before she left the PAWS office the next morning to say she was thinking of him. There was no point, he’d be somewhere out on the station without reception. If she sent him half a dozen texts throughout the day like she wanted to, he’d get them all at once when he got home and it would make her seem needy.
Which she wasn’t. She was just so thrilled about them being together.
She smiled and hummed along to an upbeat pop song as she drove out of town. Matt had stayed far later than he should have, considering his early start, but she hadn’t had the strength to tell him to go.
Georgie giggled. Matt loved her.
It was as if she’d finally been rewarded for doing something right. Last night had been better than even her most vivid imaginations. After dinner they’d chatted about the treasure hunt, then they’d tested out the sturdiness of the kitchen bench. She grinned.
When he’d finally left, she’d stayed awake until he’d sent her a text to say he’d arrived safely at the Ridge, and then she’d fallen asleep dreaming of him.
There’d been no post sex awkwardness, no wondering whether he would call her again, no stress at all. It was as if it was meant to be.
She slowed, searching for the track she needed. Today she was at the bottom end of the ranges on the eastern side not far from where the Ridge bordered the national park. She’d fallen into a nice rhythm, stopping at the office in the morning to catch up, and then heading out to do her work.
In the distance a tell-tale dust cloud told her somebody was driving where they shouldn’t. Tourists. Declan had warned her about this part of the job on Monday. Not all of them appreciated being given a Lawful Direction to move on. She sighed and found the track, turning off and heading towards the dust. It settled before she could reach it, but she noted the direction. What was the bet she’d drive up to find the car bogged and a couple arguing about coming this way in the first place while kids screamed in the backseat?
She grabbed her radio and called it in. The most she could do as Parks and Wildlife was fine them for being in a prohibited area, but a lawful direction should be enough. She’d take the number plate and their details in case they became a repeat offender.
The track wound close to the base of the ranges and she slowed as she reached the area where the dust had settled. She rounded a bend and braked, finding the white four-wheel drive directly in front of her, with no people around. She radioed the office. “Karen, I’ve found the car. It’s an old white Land Cruiser with a dented back bumper.” She read out the licence plate number. “No one is here, so I’ll take a look around.”
“Roger. Take your radio with you.”
Most four-wheel drive enthusiasts didn’t park unless they were near the beach or were bogged, but this sat on top of the red dirt.
She scanned her surroundings, her skin prickling. Small shrubs and straggly trees populated the area but it was difficult to see far. To her right the ranges stretched above her, overlooking her. She sniffed for a fire though it was unlikely whoever it was had driven all this way just to cook breakfast. All she smelled was the fresh air and red dirt. Georgie circled the four-wheel drive. The windows were covered with makeshift curtains so she couldn’t see in the back. That wasn’t unusual as some people camped on the cheap, sleeping in the back, putting up curtains for privacy.
The keys were still in the ignition and on a hunch, she retrieved them, tucking them into her pocket.
The red sand was soft, and she made out two sets of footprints which led off into the bush. Toilet stop? Whoever it was must have heard her arrive. Maybe they didn’t want to get into trouble being somewhere they shouldn’t. She followed the footsteps, cautious now and quiet.
She moved slowly, constantly scanning for a hint of colour from their clothes.
“We should get out of here,” a man murmured close to her right.
“Shhh, they haven’t left yet,” another man responded.
Her skin prickled. Moving back the way she came, she angled further right to come around behind them. The trees were more like shrubs, but they gave enough cover, and her khaki uniform ensured she blended in.
The two men still faced the direction of the cars when she saw them. Both in their early twenties, dressed in jeans and scruffy T-shirts, one with a blond mullet, the other in a blue baseball cap. They stood by a couple of holes in the ground and had a pile of plastic containers. Bastards. She took out her phone and photographed them with their smuggling gear.
“Let’s go.” The panic in blond mullet’s voice gave her confidence.
“Stay still,” hat guy said.
Neither was holding a weapon and there were no guns tucked into the back of their jeans. What should she do? She couldn’t let them get away with it, but together they could overpower her.
Her radio squawked and all three of them jumped. “Georgie, can you report?”
The two men spun to face her, eyes wide. She smiled with fake bravado as she reached for her radio. “I’ve got two animal smugglers here.” She watched them closely, waiting for a reaction. “Can you call the police?”
“Will do. Be careful.”
Mullet guy glanced around as if undecided which way to run. Hat guy was defiant. “What are you talking about? We aren’t animal smugglers.”
She looked pointedly at the traps and the plastic containers. “All evidence points to it.”
“Where did you even come from?” Mullet guy asked.
