Australian Quinns: The Mighty Quinns: Brody

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Brody said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“I’ve been wanting to speak with you,” Angus said. He motioned Brody toward police headquarters and Brody jogged across the street, joining him on the porch. “Why have you been dodging my calls?”

“I’m sorry,” Brody said. “I was just planning to go over to the Spotted Dog and pay Buddy for that mirror I broke last weekend.”

“I’m not worried about Buddy’s damn mirror. I’m on the organizing committee for Bachelors and Spinsters and we’re going to hold an auction this year. You’re the only celebrity we’ve got in Bilbarra besides Hayley Fraser and I don’t think we can convince her to participate. You’d fetch a pretty penny. All the proceeds go to the library book fund. And you don’t have to sleep with anyone, just have dinner together.”

Though every unmarried person within a two-hundred-mile radius looked forward to the annual Bilbarra “ball,” Brody and his brothers suddenly had three very good reasons not to attend—Payton, Gemma and Hayley. “I heard Hayley was back on Wallaroo Station,” Brody mentioned, hoping for some additional news.

Angus looked surprised. “Really.” He appeared to weigh his options for a moment, then shook his head. “Naw. She’s a big telly star. She’s probably got a whole building full of people telling her what she can and can’t do.”

“I think I’m going to have to pass,” Brody said.

“Hey, there is something else.” Angus braced his arm on the porch post. “There’s a private detective hanging about.”

“Looking for me?”

Angus chuckled. “One would think that might be a good bet. But he’s looking for that lady you bailed out of my jail. Payton Harwell. What did you do with her after you bailed her out?”

Brody considered his answer for a long moment. He could trust Angus, but the man was an officer of the law. If Payton was a fugitive, Angus might not have a choice in taking sides. Brody shrugged. “I gave her some money and sent her on her way. She said she was headed back to Brisbane. That’s the last I saw of her.”

Angus frowned. “There’s a reward for information. Ten thousand American.”

“What did she do?”

“He wouldn’t say. You could ask him yourself. He was looking to have a bit of lunch, so I pointed him toward the coffeeshop. He may still be there.”

“Thanks,” Brody said, starting off down the street.

Hell, this was all he needed. He was lucky he hadn’t brought Payton to town with him. He’d been concerned about her flying to Brisbane with Teague, but she seemed almost anxious to get off the station and spend time shopping with Gemma. The testosterone-heavy atmosphere on the station did require time away occasionally.

If she was running from something—or someone—then who could say when she’d just up and disappear again? Maybe she planned to use the trip to Brisbane to make her escape. He shook his head. She’d promised to say goodbye before she left. He’d have to take her at her word.

The bell above the door of the coffeeshop jingled as he stepped inside. “Hey there, Shelly!” Brody slid onto one of the stools at the counter and picked up a menu.

Shelly Farris wiped her hands on a towel and strolled over to him. “Brody Quinn. What brings you into town on a weekday?”

Brody set the menu down and watched as she poured him a cup. “I’m picking up a few parts for Callum. I thought I’d check up on you. See if you made any of my favorite meat pies today.”

“We have steak mince, steak and mushroom, and a few of our breakfast pies left.”

“I’ll have a steak mince,” Brody said. “Make them takeaway.” He closed the menu and glanced over his shoulder. There was only one other customer in the place. “Tourist?” he asked, nodding in the man’s direction.

Shelly shook her head. “No. Private investigator. Looking for that girl who stiffed me on the bill last week. The bill you paid. I don’t think you did society any favors there.”

“Why? What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. Only that he’s offering a reward for information. I couldn’t give him more than what I just told you. Do you know where she is?”

Brody shook his head. “No, how would I? I was just doing a good deed.”

Shelly disappeared into the kitchen to get his order while Brody sipped his coffee. If he wanted to know more about Payton Harwell, all he had to do was ask. But by asking, he might create undue suspicion. Still, idle curiosity wasn’t out of the ordinary.

He slipped off the stool and wandered over to the booth where the middle-aged man sat, a half-eaten Lamington on his plate. “Don’t like the dessert?” Brody asked.

The man glanced up from the study of his mobile phone. “What?” He looked at his plate and smiled. “No. It was great. Can I get my check?”

“I don’t work here,” Brody said.

“Oh, sorry.”

When the man made a move to leave, Brody sat down on the opposite side of the booth. “I hear you’re looking for someone.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” He reached into a leather folder and pulled out a photo, then set it down in front of Brody. “Do you know her?”

Brody nodded. “I do. We were incarcerated together.”

His eyebrow shot up. “I knew she spent some time in the local jail, but I didn’t know you were with her when she was arrested.”

“I wasn’t,” Brody said. “We just happened to be confined at the same time. I paid her fine and settled her accounts. Why are you looking for her?”

“It’s a private matter,” he said. “Do you know where she is?”

“Did she break the law?”

“As I said, it’s a private matter. But there is a reward for information leading to her location, if you know something.”

“I bailed her out and then dropped her on the road out of town. I think she said she was going to make her way down to Sydney,” Brody lied. “I told her she could probably catch a ride on one of the road trains that pass through.”

“Road trains?”

“It’s a semitruck that pulls a string of trailers. They pass through Bilbarra occasionally, hauling feed and building supplies.” He leaned back and stretched his arms out to rest on the edge of the bench. “She could be anywhere by now.”

“Yes, well, thank you,” the man said. “That’s the most I’ve found to go on. She didn’t say anything about where she might be staying or whether she met up with any friends?”

Brody pretended to ponder the question for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope. She just wanted to get out of town.”

The investigator threw a wad of cash onto the table, then held out his hand. “Your lunch is on me,” he said. “Thanks for the information.”

“No worries,” Brody said. “I hope you find her.” He watched as the man walked out the front door then went back to his spot at the counter. When Shelly returned with his meat pies, he pointed to the empty booth. “He’s buying me lunch.”

“Well, there’s a clever boy. What did you tell him?”

Brody scooped up the pies wrapped in paper, and took a big bite out of one of them. “Not much,” he said as he chewed. “But I got a free lunch out of it.” He headed toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Shelly asked, disappointment tingeing her tone. “I just rang my husband to stop by. Arnie’s got himself mixed up in some silly football scheme with the boys over at the Spotted Dog and he needs advice on his footy picks. He’s been losing twenty dollars a week to those fools.”

“I’m out of the game,” Brody said, pointing to his knee. “I’m trying my best to forget footy.”