Morgan's Law (28 page)

By the time they made their way back to the ute it was well after lunchtime and Sarah's stomach was rumbling.

‘So you've found your tree, what now?' Adam asked quietly.

She knew what he was thinking. She'd found the tree—the whole reason for making the trip out here. Was she going to scatter the ashes and leave, and if so, how soon?

‘Gran's leaving had something to do with Bluey, and I know someone here isn't telling me the whole story.'

‘Sarah, you're not a detective. How is torturing yourself over this going to solve anything? You didn't know a thing about Bluey until a few days ago. Is finding out who killed him really going to make your life better somehow?'

‘Maybe not, but now that I know about it, I can't just ignore it. Don't you even care that some guy was murdered out here?'

‘From all accounts, this Bluey fella wasn't even missed. It was a long time ago—no one cares any more.'

‘No one cares? Or no one wants to hear the truth?'

‘No one cares,' he repeated.

‘I know you're worried about your pop, but you can't deny he had a strong motive. Maybe in a fit of jealous rage he—'

‘No.'

‘How can you just disregard it like that?'

‘Because I know Pop. Besides, your gran was the one who left town and changed her name.'

‘Gran didn't kill anyone.'

‘And yet here you are digging up a past you never knew she had?'

‘That's not the same thing as believing she killed someone.'

He shrugged. ‘All I'm saying is, I know Pop.'

‘It must be really comforting to know everything about everyone else all the time.'

‘There's no need to bite my head off.'

‘You're the one who said our grandparents were once young too. You
don't
know what your pop was capable of as a young man.'

‘I know that he was in the war and when he came back he was in bad shape, he couldn't stomach any form of violence. There's no way he'd have been able to murder someone—it would have sent him over the edge. He didn't kill that shearer, Sarah.'

His words touched her, but somehow she wasn't so sure anyone could know with such certainty what someone else was capable of if their hand were forced. Which was why she couldn't rule out Gran's part in it either, but she wasn't about to admit that to Adam, not when he steadfastly refused to even consider the possibility William could be a suspect in all this.

‘Why can't you just let it go?' he asked.

‘I don't know,' said Sarah. And she didn't. He was right. It was all in the past and she had nothing to gain from all this, yet she wasn't prepared to just forget about it.

‘All this digging around is just hurting people—making them relive painful times in their lives. You think I like watching Pop sitting on the front verandah all day, lost in his memories? It's not fair, Sarah—not on him. Lately he looks old—older than I've ever seen him. I think he's given up.'

Guilt rippled through her at that. She didn't want to hurt anyone, especially his pop, but how could she move on without ever knowing the truth?

After Adam dropped her back into town, she went upstairs and flopped down on her bed.

‘Tell me what to do, Gran,' she pleaded softly into the quiet room. Outside she could hear Negallan life going on its unhurried way. Would anyone out there care who killed some hot-headed shearer all those years ago? ‘Who
was
this Bluey to you? Did you love him?'

The lace curtains gently moved in the afternoon breeze and Sarah caught the lemon scent of the gums from further down the street.

Nothing she knew so far indicated that Rose was madly in love with Charles Jenkins; in fact, if June was to be believed, she was just using him. But if William was so adamant he hadn't fathered a child with Rose, then that only left Bluey . . . and if that were the case, didn't the fact that this guy was her
grandfather
obligate her to follow it up?

Not if he somehow caused Rose to leave town
. Sarah mulled the thought over.

‘Why couldn't you have just asked to be buried in the bloody cemetery like everyone else?' she groaned, staring at the ceiling dolefully.

Twenty-Six

The mobile rang on the bedside table and Sarah fumbled in the dark to locate it, croaking out a groggy, ‘Hello?'

‘Sarah? It's Tamara.'

‘Tamara? It's the middle of the night here.'

‘Oh—damn . . . I'm sorry, Sarah.' Tamara sounded flustered. ‘Things are so crazy around here that I didn't even think about the time difference.'

Sarah sat up and rubbed her eyes.

‘Sarah, I know you're on personal leave, but do you have any idea when you'll be back? Things are not good here.'

‘What do you mean, they're not good?'

‘It's Celeste. She isn't coping and the Brightman Company are on the verge of pulling out.'

‘What?' Sarah had worked for months on the Brightman campaign—when she'd left it had been shaping up to be the most impressive campaign the agency had created this year. ‘What happened?'

‘Celeste happened,' Tamara all but growled. ‘She can't hide the fact you've done all the work on the campaign, and now that we've come across a few snags in production she's gone into a full-blown panic. The client is
not
happy— I've been fielding their calls for the last few days because she refuses to take them and I'm left trying to smooth their ruffled feathers. They want
you
, Sarah.'

‘Well, there's not much I can do from the other side of the world. Celeste will just have to handle it.'

The line went quiet for a few moments. ‘I thought you might want to know,' said Tamara in a hushed tone, ‘this isn't the first balls-up Celeste has been responsible for. If I were you I'd get my butt back here and cash in on this. McBride isn't impressed and I have a feeling there could be a promotion in this for you, Sarah.'

A promotion? She'd been working hard for so many years in Celeste's shadow, doing all the legwork and putting in long hours. She was the account executive supposedly working under the account director, but somehow over the last few years she seemed to have taken on a lot of the director's jobs as well as her own.

‘I can't leave just yet,' Sarah heard herself saying, blinking away the image of sitting behind Celeste's desk.

‘Don't leave it too long if you can help it. McBride's beginning to see through Celeste—you need to be here when the hammer falls.'

‘I'll think about it. Thanks for the heads-up, Tamara.'

It took a long time for Sarah to get back to sleep, and when she did, she dreamed she was on a ship, her gran waving her off as she sailed into a thick fog that floated across the ocean as far as she could see.

Sarah woke early the next morning and watched the sun rise from the verandah outside her room. She was going to miss this when she went back to London. Eventually she got to her feet and made her way back into her room. She couldn't put it off any longer, and like ripping off a bandaid, the faster she did it, the less it'd hurt.

The morning was spent booking flights and making arrangements to return to London. She couldn't wait any longer for the part to turn up for her car. She left instructions for Bruce to fix it before freighting it back to Sydney.

Tash was distraught when Sarah told her the news over a cup of coffee later that morning. ‘I still don't see why you have to leave so soon. You said yourself the flight doesn't leave until next week.'

‘Tash, my mother is already threatening to disown me if I don't spend some time with her before I go back. It really wasn't supposed to have taken
this
long.'

‘I don't know how we're going to cope without you. How am I supposed to do these interviews when you're gone? How am I supposed to appear on television, for God's sake?'

‘You know you can handle it. You don't need me or anyone else to tell you what to say—just say what's in your heart. This company had been built on your passion and there's nothing I or anyone else can write for you that is any better than what you can say yourself.'

‘But I like it better when
you
do it,' Tash pouted.

Sarah couldn't help but laugh. ‘I'm only ever an email or phone call away any time, night or day.'

‘I wish we were up and running and I could offer you a job,' Tash sighed, throwing her tea towel into the washing basket. ‘You can't tell me you haven't loved what you've been doing here.'

Sarah smiled wistfully. ‘It's been amazing to have been a part of this whole experience, Tash, and I've loved every single minute of it, but I
have
a job and it's time I got back to it.'

‘I'm going to miss you so much,' Tash said, dragging her into a fierce hug.

For the life of her Sarah couldn't utter a single word, knowing that if she opened her mouth now she'd break down and dismiss every last one of the sensible reasons she'd given for why she had to leave.

She'd called to make sure Albert was home before she drove out to Burrapine, and asked him to meet with her. Sarah felt a tinge of guilt at how happy the old man seemed to be that she was coming out. Since making her deal with Keith, she hadn't felt comfortable going out there; she didn't think Keith would appreciate her dropping by his house for a social visit. Well, she thought with a wry twist of her lips, after today that would no longer be a problem.

It was a stroke of good fortune that Carmel and Keith were out, having gone away to a sale, and wouldn't be back for a few days. She didn't know where Trent was and she didn't bother asking.

‘I hope I wasn't interrupting any plans you had this afternoon,' she asked Albert as she took a seat across from him in the formal lounge room. Ruth was out in the garden but had promised to come in soon.

‘Not at all, we don't go out much any more, and hearing from you was a nice surprise,' he said, patting her arm fondly. ‘People have told me great things about this enterprise young Tash Nobel's got up and running.'

‘I hope it all works out for everyone; this place deserves to get back up on its feet again.'

‘Can't argue with you there.' He eased back in his chair and Sarah tried not to let his shrewd gaze unsettle her. ‘So what is it that's got you so sad then?'

She blinked in surprise at his question and for a moment that directness reminded her of her gran. There wasn't much you'd been able to put past that woman either— Sarah should know, she'd tried often enough.

‘I've found the tree,' she said quietly. ‘It was where Rose used to meet William Buchanan behind your father's back.'

Albert gave a slow nod of his head, and she saw he wasn't at all surprised by the revelation. ‘Why didn't you tell me about Rose and William?'

‘Because all that ugliness belongs in the past.'

‘If it's in the past, then it can't hurt anyone any more. I want to know what really happened the day she disappeared.'

Albert waved his hand in dismissal. ‘There's nothing to tell. It's over, done.'

‘I know about Bluey Jenkins.'

He shook his head but his expression now held a shadow of uncertainty.

‘I know that he got Rose pregnant. What happened the day she ran away?'

‘I've already told you, I don't know what happened. I left in the morning to harvest and when I got home she was gone.'

‘I don't believe you, Albert. Something happened and I want to know what it was. Did she have something to do with Bluey's death? Did he rape her?' Sarah demanded, failing to keep the frustration from her voice.

‘Oh for goodness sake,' Ruth snapped, entering the room. ‘Poor little Rose,' she said sarcastically. ‘It's so hard to believe Princess Rose was anything other than a victim, isn't it? Rose Morgan was no more a victim than I'm the Pope!'