Return to Moondilla (8 page)

‘Thanks,’ Baxter said, handing ‘Fallen Angel’ to her. ‘I’ll go on making notes while you read it.’

When she’d finished, Julie looked at Baxter and nodded. ‘It’s very good. Sad, but good. If a girl decides she wants to make a living via prostitution, that’s one thing, but having to live that way to fund a drug habit is another matter.’

‘Thanks, Julie. That’s exactly what I set out to say.’

‘And this is how you’re going to start your book?’

‘That’s the plan. I reckon it puts the whole rotten drug business into focus.’

‘It does.’ The troubled look was in her eyes again.

‘You know,’ Baxter said, ‘I came back here because I needed to get away to a different kind of lifestyle. Finding out about the drugs . . . well, it’s really taken the gilt off the gingerbread.’

‘Yes, I felt the same way when I realised how bad it was.’

‘Let’s hope that Latham and Company can clean it up, and then Moondilla will revert to what it was.’ He sighed. ‘Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.’

‘It’s still a nice place,’ Julie said. ‘A bit dull for some people, but—drugs aside, of course—you don’t come down here if you’re looking for excitement. You come to fish and to smell the flowers and to enjoy the river and the ocean.’

She looked as though she loved it as much as he did, and he realised her words echoed Mr Garland’s from so long ago.

‘That’s right,’ he said vehemently, the thought of the old fisherman stirring his anger, ‘and it’s obscene for Moondilla to be fouled up by drugs. I’ll do everything I can to help Latham and his team clean it up.’

‘Very laudable,’ she said, nodding. ‘I feel the same way. But let’s be cautious—we won’t be any help if we put ourselves in danger.’

Baxter nodded, although he knew it was a bit late for that.

Julie had finished her wine. ‘What a relief that I haven’t been called in to work,’ she said. ‘If you can spare the time, I’d like to introduce you to some of my family—my sister Jane and her husband Steve, the fishing fanatic.’

‘Good idea. I’d love to meet them, and I could ask Steve to tune up Flora.’

‘Flora?’

‘My runabout—you know, the
Flora Jane
.’

•

So Baxter spent a lovely afternoon with Julie and the Lewises.

Jane was a nice-looking woman—not as classically good-looking as Julie, but very attractive and with a great personality. Sherrie was a stunning seventeen-year-old who did indeed look like a young Julie, while Jason was fifteen, a solid boy whose main interest appeared to be sailing sabots on the river.

Baxter soon heard from the horse’s mouth that Jason wasn’t very good at cricket or football, so he wasn’t in the upper echelon of boys at the high school. Conversely, Sherrie was an excellent tennis player and swimmer, and Jason thought it extremely unfair that his sister was so good at sport, especially because she didn’t take it seriously.

In Steve Lewis, Baxter thought he’d found a true friend. Lewis was a lean fellow, quite nice-looking, with dark hair and keen grey eyes. He’d taken over Moondilla Motors after serving his apprenticeship there with his dad. Now in his late thirties, Lewis was recognised as one of the best mechanics on the South Coast, and had the Holden Agency in Moondilla. Jane had gotten to know Steve while working in the garage’s office, and it was clear there’d never been anyone else for either of them.

The two men got on like a house on fire, and were soon talking fishing. Lewis was one of the keenest fishermen ever to tie on a hook. Needless to say, he had his own boat, a bigger and more modern craft than Baxter’s. As Julie had implied, he was occasionally accused by his wife of being
too
keen, but Baxter’s plea for a boat tune-up seemed to fall on fertile ground. From the look in Jane’s eye and her encouragement of the idea, Baxter guessed that she’d soon be pushing her husband for more info about him.

‘So what have you got in mind once I’ve looked at your
Flora Jane
?’ Lewis asked.

‘Well, I’ve never gone out past the river mouth because I’m an inexperienced sailor, and I don’t know the best fishing spots anyway. So I’d appreciate having someone with me who knows the ropes.’

‘We’ve got a couple of busy weekends coming up, so how about I come by on Saturday arvo in a few weeks?’ Lewis suggested. ‘I’ll work on the boat then and we’ll take her out for a bit. Another time, weather willing, we’ll make an early start and duck out to the Islands before the wind gets up. You can fish from out in front of them if the nor’easter isn’t blowing—if it is, and there’s a run-in tide, you can get thrown up against the rocks. It’s a dicey place at the best of times, but the fishing is great, with lots of snapper on offer. You just need to know what you’re about.’

‘Sounds terrific.’

‘Have you got plenty of gear?’

‘Probably not as much as I should have. I’ve got a couple of rods and reels, and half a dozen handlines, but no lures. I don’t understand how to use them.’

‘Not to worry. You’ve been catching fish, haven’t you?’

‘Some, though not a lot. Of course there’s only me and an occasional visitor—Julie appreciated my fillet.’ He shot her a smile, which she returned. ‘But the thing is that my mother’s due to visit soon, and she’s a big-time chef and cooking writer.’

‘You don’t mean Frances Baxter, the Great Woman?’ Jane asked, astonished.

‘That’s her,’ Baxter said and grinned, while Jane shot Julie an annoyed glance for not keeping her in the loop. ‘So I’d like to have some decent fish on hand.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

The next week passed without incident. Then, late one morning, Chief’s bark warned Baxter that he could expect a visitor. The dog stood at attention in the doorway of the shed where his master had been working out.

‘Let him be, Chief,’ Baxter said when he saw it was Drew.

The German Shepherd moved to sit beside him, hackles still raised, while the ex-pug sauntered into the shed.

‘Can I help you?’ Baxter asked, cool and steady.

‘You’re the bastard who hit me while I was drunk,’ Drew snarled.

‘As I remember, you tried to hit me before I touched you.’

‘You were lucky. I don’t give a shit for your fancy martial arts.’ Drew walked right up to Baxter and tried to stare him down.

Baxter looked Drew over, making it clear that he didn’t think much of what he saw. ‘You’re a gutless, worthless bloke, Drew. No worthwhile man hits his wife. She’s a decent woman too, and I can’t imagine why she’d have taken you on. She ought to dump you and go back to Queensland.’

‘Think you know a lot, don’t you?’ Drew sneered.

‘I only know what I’ve been told. I’ve talked to people, and it seems you’re in the habit of hitting Liz,’ Baxter said, letting contempt drip from his voice. ‘Go home, Drew. Go home while you can. You’re a boozer and a has-been.’

Drew flushed red and leaned even closer. ‘I’ll give you has-been. I’m going to see how much ticker you’ve got. I fought some of the best men in the game—real fighters, they were, not fancy martial arts fellas.’

‘A fat lot of good it did you. What have you got to show for it? The best thing you’ve got is your wife, and you belt her.’

‘You’ll be sorry you said that. I’ll put
you
in hospital this time.’

Chief growled, standing to attention again, and Drew laughed.

‘Or are you a bloody coward who’s going to set your dog on me?’

‘Outside, Chief,’ said Baxter sharply, and the dog obeyed in an instant. Then Baxter turned back to Drew. ‘Listen, go home to your grog. I wouldn’t waste my time on a fellow like you. I’m getting back to my training.’ Baxter just wanted this
to be over with as quickly as possible. He turned his back on the ex-pug.

As he’d expected, this show of contempt ignited Drew, who obviously had a low boiling point. He stepped around Baxter and poked a hard straight left at him. He probably reckoned that if Baxter put up his hands to counter, he’d give him a hard rip in the breadbasket to soften him up. That move might have taken down a boxer, even a great one, but Baxter saw it all coming.

While Drew had likely faced some fast men, Baxter knew he’d never been in the ring with a fellow who moved as fast as him. He didn’t throw up his hands to ward off the straight left. Instead, he spun around, hitting Drew with three hammer blows in quick succession—one took the ex-pug under the chin and lifted him off the ground. He would have been blacking out when the third blow struck.

Baxter looked down at the prostrate figure at his feet. ‘Bloody idiot,’ he muttered.

•

Once he’d arranged Drew in the most comfortable position possible and given him some first aid, Baxter headed back to the house. Chief followed him in.

First Baxter arranged an ambulance, then he perused the local phone book and rang Mrs Drew. ‘Liz, I’ve got some bad news. I’ve just called the ambos to come out here and pick up your husband. He’ll probably need a night or two in hospital.’

‘So he had another go,’ Liz said with a sigh.

‘Afraid so. He was sober this time.’

‘Did he touch you, Greg?’

‘He didn’t even get close, Liz.’

‘Ah.’ She didn’t sound surprised. ‘Well, Julie and I warned him not to go near you. Maybe he’ll stay away now.’

‘I should say he will.’ Before they said goodbye, Baxter added, ‘You’d better wangle a trip out here with Julie so you can pick up your car.’

He couldn’t do anything more for Drew, so he took a quick shower and settled himself at his desk, planning to read his previous day’s writing. Then the phone rang.

‘You all right, Greg?’ Julie asked, skipping the pleasantries. Once he’d reassured her, she said, ‘I warned Jack not to go near you.’

‘Well, when you’ve got Drew in the clinic, you tell him that if I hear he’s hit his wife again, I’ll chew him up properly. Liz seems a really nice woman—how the blazes did she get tangled up with that creep?’

‘I might tell you the story sometime.’

Soon enough the ambulance arrived. The two ambos, one male and one female, had clearly been briefed by Julie. Once he’d greeted them, Baxter pointed towards the shed. ‘He’s in there.’ He followed after them in case he could help. Drew was still out to it, and in a few minutes he was laid on a stretcher and placed in the ambulance.

‘This is a new position for Jack,’ the male ambo said, with a quirk of his lips.

‘You could say it was his moment of truth,’ Baxter said. ‘He had an inflated view of his ability and belittled something he knew nothing about.’

•

As he recovered over the next several weeks, it became clear that Jack Drew had stopped hitting his wife. He also cut down on the booze and avoided getting in fights. Drew’s fellow council workers couldn’t get over the change in their workmate. He was fishing again. And then, to top it all off, he started doing up a gorgeous old car for Liz.

She rang Baxter and explained all of this, then thanked him for half-killing her husband. ‘Jack had to be thoroughly beaten before he woke to the fact that he’s not a super fighter. He thought he was top dog here and now he knows he isn’t.’

Baxter smiled and shook his head as he put down the phone. Who needed to think up plots for novels when real-life stories abounded?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

While Drew was getting himself back in order, Steve Lewis came to be Greg Baxter’s fishing mate. Julie had been fishing with Baxter too—on the terms they’d negotiated—and they got along well, but Baxter just couldn’t think of her as another bloke.

The two men, meanwhile, had developed an instant rapport and respect for the other’s skills. Baxter knew very little about mechanics and was in awe of Steve’s expertise in this field, on top of his talent for fishing. He guessed that Lewis admired his physique and the fact he was a martial arts champion.

On that first Saturday arvo, Lewis spent an hour or so on Baxter’s boat and had her running very sweetly when he’d finished. The two men and Chief took
Flora
for a short run
upriver, and then headed back against the tide. Baxter was driving and steering, with Lewis lending a hand when needed.

‘Do you always take Chief out with you?’ Lewis asked. His eyes were on the dog, who was clearly enjoying himself with the wind ruffling his thick fur.

‘He’d be offended if I didn’t,’ Baxter said and grinned. ‘Any problem?’

‘Aw, no. He’s pretty well behaved, isn’t he?’

‘Better than a child. He doesn’t like other boats coming too close, but I’m getting him to understand that they’re okay.’

‘Julie says there’s not a thing he doesn’t know,’ Lewis said. ‘It’s just that it can get a bit rough out at the Islands and he might fall overboard.’

‘I doubt that he would, Steve. He stays in the cabin while I’m fishing.’

Lewis reached out to give Chief a pat, and the dog nuzzled his hand. To Baxter, this proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lewis was a true blue bloke.

‘When I was a kid,’ Lewis said, giving Chief’s ears a scratch, ‘the big fellows on the land all had a down on German Shepherds. They called them Alsatians in those days, and reckoned they had wolf in them. Their idea was that they might cross with dingoes and breed dogs that could pull down a beast, so the males all had to be castrated. Bloody stupid really—most farmers are their own worst enemies. A lot of them never tie up their dogs at night, and any of them could’ve mated with dingoes.’

Baxter nodded. ‘I read up on how things used to be when I was trying to decide what breed of dog would suit me best. Back in those days, only the police and the services could import German Shepherds, but whenever a kid got lost the police would be called on to search with their shepherds! And the import ban did a lot of harm, because the Aussie dogs were becoming too closely bred and too highly strung.’

‘Good thing they woke up and allowed imports again.’

‘Too right. I’m convinced there’s no breed more straight-out intelligent.’

Chief looked up at the two men, giving them a doggy grin, and they laughed.

•

When they came back to shore, Lewis declared
Flora
sound, and said he was relieved. ‘Old Harry didn’t use her very often, Greg,’ he explained. ‘His missus didn’t like him taking her out on his own, and she used to get sick every time she stepped on a boat, so he mostly fished from the jetty or from the boat kellicked off the bank.’