Читать книгу Live To Tell - Valerie Parv - Страница 7

The disturbing sensation of being watched nagged at Jo Francis. She felt her features tighten as she watched Nigel approach the creek. “This isn’t a good idea. Blake warned us not to camp closer than fifty yards from the creek, and not to get fresh water from the same place every day.”

Nigel shot her a disparaging look. “I’m getting mighty tired of hearing, ‘Blake said…’ every time I want to do something. Maybe you’d rather have him sharing this crazy stunt with you instead of me.”

The words of denial Jo knew he expected from her stalled in her throat. In some ways, she would rather have Blake with her, but not for the reasons Nigel suspected. Living in the Kimberley, one of the world’s last great wildernesses in the far northwest of Western Australia, was proving to be a far greater challenge than she had anticipated, and they’d only been in the outback for three days.

How was she supposed to survive for a month in such a hostile environment, when Nigel thought he knew more than a man who owned the local crocodile farm and had grown up on this land? The bush shelter they were supposed to be moving into tomorrow was barely started because Nigel insisted on doing things his way. Now he was going beyond stubborn all the way to reckless.

“Please be careful,” she implored.

“Blake Stirton isn’t the only man who can handle this stuff,” Nigel threw at her over his shoulder. “Your editor has more faith in me than you do.”

Hearing the censure in his voice, Jo regretted letting Nigel talk his way into sharing this assignment. Nigel was the marketing director at Australian Scene Weekly’s advertising agency and they’d dated until he’d gotten too serious for Jo’s comfort. She knew he was hoping to win her back during the trip, but she was equally determined to convince him that their relationship was over.

Maybe she was out of her mind for thinking she could survive in the wilderness with only the minimum of modern-day amenities, she berated herself silently. Like Nigel Wylie, she’d lived in the city for all of her twenty-six years and had gone camping only on family outings. She’d enjoyed them, but had always been happy to get back to civilization.

Under the harsh outback sun, her fair complexion was a liability, and she was beginning to wish she’d had her long, streaky blond hair cut short before leaving Perth. Even tied in a ponytail, it felt uncomfortably hot and heavy between her shoulder blades.

Her editor, Karen Prentiss, had come up with the idea of sending her feature writer on a survival mission soon after hearing about the discovery of some ancient cave paintings on a cattle property called Diamond Downs in the wilds of the Kimberley region of Western Australia. According to Jo’s research, the property owner, Des Logan, and his late wife had a daughter, Judy, and fostered four sons after they discovered they couldn’t have any more children of their own. The boys were all from problem backgrounds, but Des had managed to straighten them out over time and each was now successful in a different field.

Blake, the oldest of the Logan foster sons, had briefed her and Nigel on what to expect during their stay at Diamond Downs. He owned Sawtooth Park, a crocodile breeding and education center outside Halls Creek, a few miles away.

Thinking of the enormous crocodiles he’d shown them during their orientation, Jo shivered. The scaly throwbacks to the dinosaur era both fascinated and terrified her. She’d taken to heart Blake’s warnings about respecting the wild crocodiles who inhabited the rivers and creeks of Diamond Downs, more than Nigel had done, it seemed.

A fresh prickle of unease lifted the fine hairs on the back of her neck as she watched him steady himself by grasping the branch of a freshwater mangrove, so he could lean over the still water to fill his canteen. They had fresh water at camp, but Nigel insisted it was colder straight from the creek.

The surroundings were idyllic. Around her, majestic pandanus, paperbarks and eucalypti created a cool oasis. The air was fragrant with the sweet scents of the mangroves, tropical orchids, gardenias and grevilleas. An outcrop of large granite slabs protruded into the water, forming a natural jetty. Blake had pointed out a series of worn cavities in the surface of the rocks where, over centuries, the aboriginal people had crushed grass seeds into paste for food.

He had also warned them that death lurked beneath the deceptively tranquil, lily-strewn water.

Her sense of unease grew. “Please, watch out for—”

“Crocodile!” Nigel shouted at the same moment.

In a blur of movement, an olive-colored torpedo surged out of the water, wolflike dagger teeth snapping shut around Nigel’s canteen with the force of a steel trap. She barely had time to glimpse a great dragon head with horned eyebrows and blazing yellow eyes, before the prehistoric creature sank back into the creek, its powerful serrated tail churning the water to foam.

For a horrified instant, she thought Nigel had been dragged in, as well, until she saw him swing himself into the tangled branches. His grip on the tree must have saved him. “Get away from there,” she screamed.

“What the flaming hell do you think I’m doing?” He pulled himself hand over hand back to shore, while she kept a wary eye on the water. The crocodile was nowhere to be seen, but she could sense its fearsome presence lurking in the depths.

Then Nigel was back on land, sheet-white and shaking, rubbing the back of his neck where the strap from the canteen had etched a furrow. The torn leather dangling from his neck told its own story. Angrily, he jerked the strap off and dashed it to the ground. “Blasted man-eater ought to be shot.”

He spun back in the direction of their camp where Blake had supplied them with a .303 rifle for protection. She grabbed Nigel’s arm, barely halting his progress. “You can’t shoot it. Crocodiles are a protected species.”

“Not if they attack humans,” he spat at her.

“It didn’t attack. You invaded its territory,” she said, as shaken by the near miss as he was. “If you injure it instead of killing it, you could make matters worse.”

His scathing look raked her. “Worse than nearly being dragged under and eaten alive?”

She refrained from repeating Blake’s lesson that crocodiles didn’t eat their prey alive. They rolled you over and over until you drowned, then stowed you in an underwater lair to be eaten once you’d softened sufficiently. The very thought made her sick. She had a feeling Nigel wouldn’t welcome the reminder right now. If he hadn’t had such a firm grip on the tree…

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said softly.

His stare remained wintry. “Are you?”

“Of course I am.”

“Because you care about me, or because you want to get your story?”

“No story is worth a life.”

“No? Then tell your boss what she can do with this assignment.”

She gestured impatiently. “You know why I can’t.”

“Because you need Karen to use her influence with her husband. Isn’t there another way to keep Lauren’s home open that doesn’t involve risking both our necks?”

“None that Karen was prepared to share with me,” Jo said, too shaken to hide her bitterness. Ever since the editor heard about Diamond Downs, she’d had a bee in her bonnet about setting a feature there. Jo would have been happy simply to interview the Logan family, but for some reason, Karen wouldn’t hear of it. “Too predictable for Scene Weekly. Our readers expect an inside story, a sense of being there,” she’d told Jo. That’s when she’d hatched the idea of having Jo live off the land for a month and report on the experience diary-style in each issue.

Nor was Karen above using Jo’s worry about Lauren to gain Jo’s cooperation. “This is the way the world works,” she’d said with a shrug. “You want me to do something for you, you do something for me.”

Karen’s husband, Ron, was the developer whose company wanted to develop the land where Lauren’s home, Hawthorn Lodge, stood. Jo had been Lauren’s surrogate big sister, watching her grow from a shy, introverted girl with a learning disability to the charming young woman she was now. Much of that progress was due to the sheltered environment Lauren shared with seven young people like herself and one understanding set of house parents. Karen knew as well as Jo that Lauren would be lost out in the world, even if Jo took her in. When the home had been extensively remodeled the previous year, Lauren had stopped speaking for over two months, until she adjusted to the changes. Jo hated to think how Lauren might respond if forced to move to a new location.

Nigel read the truth in Jo’s eyes. “You’re not giving up, are you, not even after what just happened?”

Jo wished she could give him the answer she knew he wanted, but she couldn’t. “It was as much our fault as the crocodile’s. We can learn from this and move on,” she said.

“That’s the first true thing you’ve said since we got here. We can learn from this and move on.”

Something in his voice made her blood chill. “I mean together.”

“No, you mean I can learn to do things your way by your rules, as usual.”

“You’re putting words into my mouth.”

“I’m stating facts. Nearly getting eaten makes you see things with crystal clarity. I wanted to do this because I care for you, Jo. I want you to feel the same way about me. But it won’t happen as long as every waking minute is taken up with staying alive.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want you to give this up.”

At the pleading note in his voice, she wavered. Maybe she didn’t have much sense, but giving up wasn’t on her agenda. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said, meaning it.

“You can’t do this by yourself.”

“The Logans are there if I need help.”

“Meaning Blake Stirton, I suppose.”

“Meaning the Logan family. This has nothing to do with Blake.”

Nigel pushed his way toward their camp as if he had difficulty making his limbs obey him. Shock was probably setting in, but he wasn’t about to let her sympathize with him, she saw from his shuttered expression. “Nothing to do with Blake,” he sneered. “So I imagined the way you hung on to his every word?”

“Of course you didn’t. Our survival depends on listening to his advice,” she snapped, tired of defending herself. If Nigel had paid more attention to Blake’s briefing instead of being jealous of the other man, they might not be having this discussion now.

Nigel dragged a pack out of the tent. “Well, not anymore. You can go or stay as you choose. I’ve made my decision.”

He began to stuff clothes and possessions into the pack, making it clear he was serious. She hadn’t doubted it. Nigel always did what he said he’d do. She’d been frankly astonished when he’d volunteered to take part in this experiment. Spontaneous wasn’t in his vocabulary.

She had to try one last time. “You don’t have to leave. I know you had a bad scare and you’re entitled to be rattled.”

He leveled a searing look at her. “Rattled doesn’t begin to describe how it feels to stare death in the face. I’m getting out of here while I still can.”

“I can’t exactly blame you,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I got you into this in the first place.”

He stopped packing long enough to smile fleetingly at her. “I’m sorry, too. I thought we might get back some of the romance we used to have, but it isn’t going to happen, is it?”

“I told you it was over between us long ago,” she reminded him.

He straightened. “You didn’t tell me you were hoping to find some he-man who can swing through trees on a vine and catch your dinner with his bare hands. I’m a bloody good businessman, but that will never be enough for you, will it?”

She couldn’t argue with his assessment of himself. They’d met through the magazine, and she’d been attracted by his good looks and the rapid-fire way his mind worked. “I thought this was about a crocodile attacking you. How did it get to be about us?” she asked.

“You must have known how much I wanted things to work out between us.”

She let a sigh whisper past her lips. “I hoped you would learn something about your own strengths, as well. Isn’t that why people undertake these survival-type challenges?”

“I’ve learned all I needed to. Not only that I don’t want to be around man-eating crocodiles, but that I don’t want to be molded into something I’m not.”

“I never tried to mold you into anything.”

“No? Then why didn’t you listen when I said I thought this project was a bad idea?”

He was right. She hadn’t listened. She’d been too fixated on satisfying Karen. At least that had been the reason Jo had given herself. Now she wondered if Nigel wasn’t right. Saving Lauren’s home had been Jo’s justification for agreeing to undertake the assignment, but she wasn’t the reason Jo was here. At least not the whole reason. “I’ll miss your help,” she conceded.

He didn’t relent. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.” His tone said he wouldn’t hold out much hope.

The snap of a dry twig outside brought her head up. “Someone’s out there.”

His head swung around. “What now, rampaging buffalo?”

“It sounded more like a footstep.” Perhaps Blake had come to check on their progress. The flood of relief accompanying this thought was something she’d have to think about later.

Right now, she wanted to check on the source of the noise. She flung the tent flap aside and strode out.

“Jo, wait for me. You don’t know what’s out there.”

She got outside in time to see a man disappearing into the bushes. From force of journalistic habit, she noted that he had dark skin, a stocky build and was about her height. He was dressed like the stockmen who worked the cattle on Diamond Downs. “Odd that he didn’t stop to say hello,” she said to Nigel, who’d followed her outside. Everyone they’d met so far had gone out of their way to be friendly.

“He could be from a tribe that doesn’t belong here,” Nigel suggested. “Or maybe he’s wary of strangers.”

“He must have seen or heard the croc attack. Wonder why he didn’t show himself before or try to help.”

“The crocodile could hold some cultural significance for him. We could speculate all day and be none the wiser.”

“You’re right.” Shock at Nigel’s near miss was taking a toll on her, too. The thought of someone spying on them didn’t help. Suddenly, she became aware that she would be on her own once Nigel left. Bile rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. She had to fight the urge to pack up and go with him.

He seemed to sense her ambivalence. “Sure you don’t want to come with me?”

No, she wasn’t sure, but she shook her head. “I can’t.”

Can’t or won’t? his expression asked. Just as well he didn’t voice the question, because she didn’t know what her answer would have been.

“I’ll get one of the men at the Logan homestead to drive me to town and bring the rental car back here for you,” he said.

Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around his neck, stung when he made no move to respond. What did she expect? “Thanks for giving it your best shot,” she said.

His mouth found hers, hot and hard, the way he knew she liked to be kissed. Normally the touch would have ignited her passion; now, there was only deep regret for what might have been. She kissed him back out of that regret.

A cough made her spring back. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The laconic tone made her blood boil. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to be sure the crocodile didn’t snap off anything vital,” Blake drawled. Another man followed Blake into the clearing. For a moment, she thought it was the man who’d been watching them from the bushes until she realized that this man was taller and had a lighter complexion. The only thing Blake and his companion had in common with the spy was the khaki shirt, pants and battered Akubra hat that seemed to be the uniform for outback males. She couldn’t help noticing how ruggedly appealing it looked on Blake.

“One of the stockmen was across the river when he heard a commotion and saw the crocodile attacking. Evidently, it was greatly exaggerated.” Blake spoke softly to his companion. The other man nodded and moved off toward the water hole. Looking for the crocodile, she assumed. She was about to mention the man she’d glimpsed moments after the event, but Nigel spoke first.

“There was an attack all right, Stirton.” Nigel’s tone was the classic one of alpha male meeting another of his kind in his territory. The fact that he’d been about to relinquish that territory didn’t matter for the moment. Instinct won out.

Jo resisted the urge to step between them, struck again by how much at home Blake was in this environment. He could take care of himself. “Nigel was getting water from the creek when a crocodile lunged out of the water at him,” she said.

“Luckily it only snapped off my canteen, not my head,” Nigel contributed.

Blake frowned. “From the look of you, it was a close call. If you want my advice…”

Nigel gestured dismissively. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Jo felt the beginnings of a headache. “Nigel, please. Blake’s only trying to help.”

“If he wants to help, he or his stockman will grab the rifle and blast that man-eating monster out of the water before someone gets killed.”

She saw Blake’s jaw tighten. Nigel was reacting out of shock and she could hardly blame him, but attacking a man who’d come to help them wasn’t the answer.

“The crocodile isn’t responsible for human stupidity,” Blake said. “And Andy Wandarra is a tribal elder, so you’ll show some respect.”

She winced, wishing he had chosen his words more tactfully. She had a feeling tact wasn’t Blake Stirton’s strong suit.

Nigel wasn’t a small man but Blake was half a head taller, with a cowboy’s rangy build, most of which looked to be solid muscle. He stood with his feet apart, at home in the bush, although she imagined he’d look equally good wearing black tie in a ballroom. Longish hair the color of antique brass, turned up slightly at the collar, gave him a bad-boy aura. His warm hazel eyes were deep-set and creases radiating from them suggested he spent a lot of time staring across vast distances. Right now, his gaze was narrowed on Nigel, and what she saw in his expression wasn’t approval.

She hoped Nigel’s adrenaline-charged state wouldn’t drive him to challenge Blake physically. No amount of loyalty to Nigel could convince her he was a match for Blake in a fight.

Nigel balled his hands into fists. “When the truth about this experience comes out, we’ll see who your readers think is stupid, won’t we, Jo?”

Blake fixed her with a glare that could have melted stone. She was proud of not quailing beneath his scrutiny, but it took some effort. “We were warned not to get water from the same place every day,” she said with scrupulous fairness.

A glimmer of something like surprise flashed in Blake’s hazel gaze. She didn’t like the answering shiver that shook her.

“Crocs are cunning creatures. They wait and watch until they judge they can grab an easy meal,” Blake said in a tone that suggested that this explanation was part of a much-repeated lecture. “You might get away with it the first or second time, but try it a third and you’re history.”

He illustrated the point by extending his arms and crashing his hands together like the jaws of a crocodile, and she saw Nigel flinch.

Instinctively, she moved closer to offer the comfort of her nearness, but he remained coldly aloof. His pride was stung, she thought in amazement. Not only by his brush with death, but by the fact that Blake was right and he was wrong.

“Are you okay?” she asked, pitching her voice low.

Wrong question, she saw as Nigel’s jaw hardened. “I’m fine for someone who was almost eaten.”

“Maybe you should see a doctor,” Blake suggested. “One of our people can drive you to Halls Creek.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me that the sight of a dead crocodile won’t fix. If you can’t handle it, I’ll do something about it myself.”

Nigel turned toward the tent but in a move so fast she barely registered it, Blake put himself between Nigel and the equipment. “There are penalties for killing protected species out here.”

Halted in his tracks, Nigel curled his lip into a sneer. “Oh, yeah. Your brother is a ranger, isn’t he? Between you, you’ve got the Kimberley sewn up. If one Logan doesn’t get me, the other will. Oh, I forgot. You’re not Logans, either of you. You’re a bunch of mongrels Des Logan took in and tried to civilize, without much success evidently.”

Blake didn’t move. “You’re going the right way to get yourself thrown off this land, Wylie.”

“He doesn’t mean it. It’s the shock of the attack.”

Both men turned hard glares on her, but Jo wasn’t about to back down. This was her show, whether Nigel accepted it or not. She needed this assignment. From her research into Des Logan’s situation, he suffered from a heart complaint and was having trouble keeping Diamond Downs going. The discovery of the ancient rock art on the land had started to bring in tourist dollars, but he also needed the substantial fee her magazine was paying to use the site.

Without quite knowing how she knew, she saw the knowledge reflected in Blake’s gaze. He shifted his attention to her. The ferocity of it sent shafts of heat through her, surprisingly difficult to ignore. “I’ll overlook the personal insults this time.” His tone made it clear there would be no second chance. “I still think this is a damn fool stunt. If you were really surviving, you wouldn’t have so many frills. You have no business coming to the outback for the titillation of a few magazine readers.”

She anchored her palms on her hips. “A moment ago, you mentioned respect. Yet you’re not willing to accord us the same privilege even though those magazine readers you dismiss so readily number in the thousands. And my editor is paying your foster father a lot of money for us to be here, correct?”

“Correct.”

She ignored the grudging tone. It was enough that he accepted her right to be here. “Our inexperience in the outback is the whole point of the exercise—to see how well we cope, also correct?”

He nodded tautly. “True enough.”

“Then I don’t see a problem. This isn’t your land. You might have grown up here, but you live at your crocodile farm, don’t you?”

“While we’re playing twenty questions, I have one for you.”

He was entitled. “Go ahead.”

“Why the hell is this so important to you? Surely there are other subjects you can write about without risking your neck?”

Not subjects her editor was passionate about, she thought. She still wasn’t sure why Karen had been so determined to send her on this assignment. Jo knew why she herself wanted to be here, but Blake didn’t need to know. “I have my reasons,” she said evenly.

Blake jerked his head toward Nigel, standing at Jo’s shoulder, fuming but, for the moment, having the sense to keep quiet. “And your friend here?”

“I’m here because I refused to let her carry out this crazy assignment alone,” he supplied.

So much for keeping quiet. “Our motivations are none of Blake’s business,” she demurred, not wanting to argue with Nigel in front of the crocodile man. “Part of the deal is for Blake to teach us how to survive in the outback, not to interfere.”

The reminder didn’t sit well with Blake, she saw, as his gaze darkened. He must feel strongly loyal to his foster father to have agreed to be part of a scheme he plainly opposed. “There’s not much point in me giving you advice unless you have enough sense to take it.”

The gibe was clearly aimed at Nigel and she felt him bristle at her side. “You can stop worrying, Stirton. I’ve had it up to here with this insane project. When you turned up, I was packing to leave.”

“It didn’t look like that to me.”

Blake’s reminder that Nigel had been kissing her when he’d arrived brought heat surging into her cheeks. “Again, none of your business,” she insisted. “Nigel, I know the attack was a shock, but you can’t mean to throw in the towel? It’s only been three days.” Two, if she didn’t count the orientation day spent with Blake.

“Three days when I’ve been bitten to death by mosquitoes, sunburned gathering materials to build a stupid shelter when there’s a perfectly good tent standing there and had my life threatened by a man-eater that Stirton thinks has more right to live than I do.”

Blake’s mouth thinned. “The crocodile was only defending its territory.”

Was something similar going on between him and Nigel? “Why did you recommend we set up camp here if you knew it was dangerous?” she asked.

“I didn’t know,” he said surprising her. “We’ve had no problems with crocodiles in this area for years. I don’t know why it happened now.”

“So you admit you don’t know everything,” Nigel gibed, ignoring the warning pressure of the hand she placed on his arm.

“I never said I did,” Blake responded mildly, but his hazel eyes flashed fire. “I assume after what’s happened, you’re both leaving?”

She moved a few feet away from Nigel in what she recognized was a symbolic gesture. “You assume wrong. Until the agreed-upon month is up, I’m not going anywhere.”

Nigel flashed her a look of disbelief. Had his packing been an attempt to manipulate her into going with him? “You can’t stay here alone,” he said, reinforcing her suspicion.

Blake settled his hands on his hips. “She can’t stay here at all. This wasn’t part of the deal between Des and the magazine.”

She folded her arms. “As I recall, neither were you, except as technical consultant.”

Blake’s eyes flashed fire. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You have no authority to throw me out if I choose to remain.”

“Des Logan does, and he will if I recommend it for your safety.”

“For my safety or for your convenience? From the moment I arrived, you’ve made it clear you don’t want me here.”

“Surviving in the outback is not a game.”

She nodded. “It won’t be reported as such. My editor wants me to faithfully record our experiences for our readers.”

“To achieve what, exactly?”

“If even one person is stranded in the outback and applies something they’ve learned from my articles, the series will have served a purpose.”

Nigel pulled the straps of his backpack tight and looked around the camp. “Are you two going to argue the point all day? I have everything of mine. The rest of the gear belongs to the magazine. Can I get a ride to Halls Creek with you, Stirton? I don’t want to leave Jo without a vehicle.”

“You don’t have to leave at all,” she said. “Why not give yourself a little more time before you decide?”

“I have decided. I only agreed because I thought this wouldn’t last more than a couple of days, then you’d see sense and we could get back to civilization.”

Her mouth dropped. “You expected me to fail?”

Blake gave a humorless smile. “Charming.”

Nigel shot him a look of irritation. “Of course not. Damn it, Jo, the only reason I agreed to be part of this is because I care about you. It’s important to you, so it was important to me until I found myself staring death in the face.” He jerked his thumb toward the now-tranquil creek. “We don’t belong in that monster’s territory, and I’m getting out while I still can.”

She shuddered involuntarily, having no comeback. If the same thing had happened to her, would she feel like bailing, too? But it hadn’t and she couldn’t give up now, even though the memory of the crocodile leaping out of the water would haunt her for a long time. “I’m sorry.”

Nigel’s hand rested on his backpack. “Me, too. Look, I’ll stay if you agree to my condition.”

Her hopes rose but with them, a quiver of uncertainty as she guessed what he was about to say. “Nigel, don’t. And besides, I don’t need a caretaker,” she said, annoyed that both men seemed determined to cast her in the role of a dependent. She was the youngest in her family, and her two older brothers had tried to do the same. Had she jumped at this assignment as much to prove them all wrong as for any other reason? At the same time, she knew there was more to her reluctance to accept Nigel’s proposal, but this wasn’t the right time for self-analysis. “I’ll be fine on my own,” she insisted.

“You won’t be on your own,” Blake intervened. He actually sounded pleased that she hadn’t accepted Nigel’s offer. Was that because he hoped it would get rid of her sooner? She couldn’t imagine that his interest was in the least personal. “I may not be able to insist that you leave, but I can stick around and make sure you get through this in one piece,” he said.

“Even if I don’t want your protection?”

“It isn’t a suggestion.”

She gave vent to a sigh of frustration. “I can hardly throw you off your family’s land, but you’d better not get in my way. I’m the one supposed to be learning to survive out here.”

“You’ll learn all right. I don’t intend to make things easy for you.”

If anything, he was going to make her task more difficult, she thought, and not only when it came to outback survival. He attracted her far more than she wanted him to. After her experience with Nigel she didn’t plan on getting hot and bothered over any other man for some time to come.

Aware that hot and bothered barely covered the way her blood pressure soared every time Blake came near her, she looked from one man to the other. Talk about a rock and a hard place. Nigel’s face was set in an expression that she knew only too well—it meant he wouldn’t change his mind. And Blake didn’t strike her as the type to back down, either. What was it about the outback that turned men into Neanderthals? “Seems like I don’t have a choice,” she demurred.

“None at all if you want to stay. So you’d better get your things together.”

“Why, if I’m not going anywhere?”

“Until Andy and I find out why that croc attacked, you’re not staying here alone. I have to meet my brother at the airport, so we can drop Wylie off at the same time. Then I’ll come back with you and make sure everything’s secure here.”

“Sounds reasonable,” she conceded.

His expression didn’t alter. “I’m glad you approve.” His tone said he didn’t care one way or the other.

Before she could think of a suitable response, Andy Wandarra emerged from the bushes. “I found fresh tracks along the river bank. This was buried not far from the tracks. I disturbed a wild pig digging it up.” He held up a handful of bloody entrails.

The rancid smell assaulted her senses and she recoiled. “I thought you said crocodiles drag their food into the water?”

Andy threw the mess into the creek where it sank leaving only bubbles. “They do. Whoever made the tracks must have dropped it.”

Nigel swore colorfully. “I assume that wasn’t the remains of the intruder’s lunch.”

“More like the crocodile’s. If someone has been feeding the croc from the landing, it would explain the attack.”

Nigel moved closer to her side. “The only person we know who wants us out of here is you, Stirton.”

“He wouldn’t,” she protested, appalled at the suggestion.

Nigel made a slashing motion. “How can you be sure? You don’t know him, yet you’re prepared to put your life in his hands. I only hope you know what you’re doing.”

“She’ll be safe with me, because I intend to get to the bottom of this,” Blake vowed. He turned to Jo. “Did you see or hear anything around the time the crocodile attacked?”

“I caught a glimpse of a man hanging around in the bushes.”

Blake nodded. “Did you see what he looked like?”

“Like Andy,” she said. “When the two of you arrived I thought he was the same man, but the other man was younger and his skin was a darker color.”

Andy and Blake traded looks. “Eddy Gilgai?” Andy said.

Blake nodded. “If it’s Eddy, that means Max Horvath is involved in this.”

“They’re employees of your father’s, I suppose,” Nigel said.

Blake gave him a withering look. “Max Horvath is a neighbor who has designs on Diamond Downs. Max hired Eddy after Des sacked him for misconduct.”

She didn’t try to hide her confusion. “How would feeding a crocodile help your neighbor get his hands on your father’s land?”

“Crocs don’t have much in the way of brains but they’re creatures of habit. You can train them to expect food at the same place and time. If Eddy taught this one to come in close to the landing, he could have had only one motive. He hoped to send you packing.”

“Fine with me,” Nigel said. “For you, too, if you have any sense, Jo.”

He was probably right, but instinct wouldn’t let her turn her back on what was shaping up to be quite a story. She couldn’t wait to learn more about the neighborhood feud from Blake and his family.

“Don’t power up your laptop yet,” Blake said, as if sensing her interest. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“If it’s meant to scare me away from Diamond Downs, it does.”

“We’re only guessing that was the explanation for the attack. Wylie could simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“But your theory fits the facts as you know them,” she said. “It also explains some of the disturbances I’ve heard around the river since we set up camp here.”

Blake’s interest sharpened. “You didn’t mention any disturbances.”

“I don’t know what’s normal for the outback. For all I know, the sounds in the bushes could have been dingoes or one of those wild pigs.”

“Or someone setting me up to be eaten by a crocodile,” Nigel added. “Why the devil didn’t you say something sooner, Jo?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t, but it doesn’t help now. It’s more important to find out if your Max Horvath is behind this, and stop him before somebody gets hurt.”

Blake shook his head. “Don’t you get it? That someone could be you. I’m putting both of you on the next plane back to Perth.”

She and Nigel spoke at the same moment.

“Good idea.”

“The hell you are.”

“You can throw me off Diamond Downs, but you can’t make me leave the Kimberley until I’m ready,” she asserted.

Blake’s expression conceded reluctant defeat. “Then you’re better off where I can keep an eye on you. If you carry on with your assignment as if we don’t suspect anything, Horvath might get cocky and give himself away.”

“And both of you could wind up dead.”

“We won’t. Blake knows what he’s doing.” At least she hoped he did.

Blake picked up Nigel’s pack. “We’ll take your car back to town. Andy, you take the jeep and see if you can find any more signs. We’ll meet back at the homestead later.”

The other man grinned. “Tom will be dying of curiosity by then.”

“Tom’s my brother and Andy’s honorary clan brother,” Blake elaborated. “His engagement party’s tonight.”

He must be the ranger who was marrying the princess, she assumed. Quite a family. “Do I get to meet him?”

Blake pushed his Akubra hat back on his head. “According to Des, under your editor’s rules, you’re only supposed to come to the homestead in a life-and-death emergency. I guess a crocodile attack qualifies. If you happen to be there for the party, it can’t be helped. Until we know more, I don’t want you staying out here on your own.”

Nigel shifted impatiently and she nodded, feeling the familiar surge of excitement that told her she was on to a big story. Far bigger than Karen, her editor, had guessed when she dreamed up this assignment. “You’re on.”