Page 5 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘Not on my watch.’ Ryder reached for the shotgun, but Bree held it back.

‘It’s the cops. It’s Porter.’ Ash pointed to the police car.

‘How do you know Policeman Porter?’ Bree had her body turned to keep the shotgun well out of Ryder’s reach.

‘We met him when we were staying at Sandlot Station, helping Jonathan and Mandy out,’ replied Ash, hoping somebody would calm down the redhead. ‘We helped the police search for a kidnapped couple, that ended up being this treasure hunt. And Ryder’s been mates with the town’s top cop since he helped save that kid from a bomb exploding at the school.’

‘Hero, huh?’ Bree still didn’t move, keeping her eyes on Ryder.

‘Bree, give me the shotgun.’ Ryder held his open palm to the woman.

‘Nope. It’s not your gun.’

‘You hid it in my house.’

She jutted out her dainty chin. ‘Not anymore. I’ll just find it a new hidey spot.’

‘What are the coppers doing out here?’ Charlie rushed up to Bree. He then leaned over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Bree glared at Ryder as if to make her point. ‘It’s okay, Pop. Take deep breaths. Tell me you took your heart pills this morning?’

Charlies nodded, wheezing, as he waved her hand away. ‘I’m fine.’ His grey eyes focused on the police car parking nearby.

‘Hey, fellas.’ Porter adjusted his police cap and gave a friendly smile. ‘Everything all right?’ Porter nodded at Ryder and Bree, stuck in their heated stand-off.

‘All good. I’m just scaring off a few possums in the shed.’ Bree swung the shotgun onto her shoulder. Then under her breath she muttered to Ryder, ‘It’s mine, registered to me, that Porter inspected for correct licensing. So hands off, cupcake.’

‘We’ll talk about this later, Bree. Including that story about the death threats your grandfather forgot to mention.’ Ryder side-glanced at his brothers. It was the first they’d heard about any death threats. ‘What can we help you with, Porter?’

‘We’re looking for Ash.’ Porter pulled out a file, as the passenger door opened of the twin-cab ute with its chunky police cage on the back.

‘What did you do, bro?’ Cap arched his eyebrows at Ash.

‘Me? Nothing. I’m innocent.’

‘I’d doubt that very much,’ mumbled Dex, rocking on his boot heels.

‘Do you guys know Jenny? She’s the head nursing sister at our local bush hospital.’ Porter did the introductions.

‘I do. Hi, Jenny.’ Bree waved.

‘Hi, Bree. Are you okay, Charlie? You’re looking a little flustered.’ Jenny was a middle-aged woman opening the back door.

‘You’ll be happy to know Charlie did some cardio this morning. My grandfather ran all the way from the cottage fence to here.’ Bree’s light giggle had Ash grinning with Cap, as Charlie scowled at her while wiping the sweat from his brow.

‘I’m looking for Ashton Riggs.’

That wiped the smile off his face. ‘That’s me.’ Ash stepped forward, trying to think of what he’d done to warrant this kind of attention from the police.

Jenny grabbed something out of the car, then turned around holding a toddler in her arms. ‘This is Mason Riggs. And he’s your son.’

Four

Dex’s laughter carried across the compound. For a man who wore a permanent scowl, it was rare to hear Dex laugh. But this was a full belly laugh, holding his stomach with one hand, while slapping his denim thigh with the other as if it was the world’s greatest joke.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ Ash could only blink at the toddler. A full-blown, living, breathing little boy. And he knew nothing about kids.

‘Your name is on the birth certificate, and it’s requested in the paperwork.’ Policeman Porter held up a file.

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