Page 57 of Down the Track

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‘Sure. Let me just shut my office door so the rest of the team know not to disturb me.’

He took the time to convince himself he was doing the right thing. Taking the pressure off Charlie was the right thing and bringing media attention to the case might trigger the memory of someone whodidknow who Dave was. Where Dave was. What Dave was frigging up to with his drug-infested cargo.

And making a public claim that he, Gavin Gunn, crime writer, was here in Yindi Creek to help out his old mate and solve a mystery? A real-life one? He swallowed.

If everything went well, he’d put on his Gavin Gunn hat and come up with a feasible reason to explain Dave’s insistence on visiting that particular spot on the Queensland map, one that had no connection at all to Yindi Creek Chopper Charters other than as a mode of transport. He’d beat the newspapers to revealing the connection between Charlie Cocker and the Huxtables to Yindi Creek’s infamous missing persons case of long ago. He’d be able to control the story.

If everything went badly? Well, he’d be making a fool of himself on a national scale.

TYSON: Mate, you sure you want to throw me under the bus like that? I’m Clueless Jones, mate. I’ve got status.

Tyson was right in a sense. His career could take a hiding if he made a fool of himself (as no doubt his sisters would expect) but if that’s what it took to restore Charlie and Sal’s livelihood? Safeguard a happy and financially sound future for those rugrats they’d brought (and were about to bring) into the world?

Yeah. He’d do it in a heartbeat.

All he needed was some assurance from Nandita that his publisher would go for it. And, of course, he needed his parents and sisters to agree.

Because the big reveal wouldn’t just affect him.

CHAPTER

22

It was past five by the time the Dash 8 Jo had managed to cadge a last-minute seat on taxied to the northern end of Brisbane’s Domestic Terminal where the propellor planes were corralled. Past six by the time her bag had cleared and she’d caught the shuttle to the patch of bitumen on the airport’s outskirts where her car was parked. Past seven when she texted Craig to let him know she was back in Brisbane and ready to collect her son.

Come in the morning, was the response.We’ve gone out to dinner.

Huh. Well. She’d just mosey on home, then.

Or she could go and see Jedda at the hospital.

Ignoring the fact she was dressed in her dig gear and had been on the go for fourteen hours, she pulled off the Inner City Bypass and took the turn for Herston.

‘Um,’ said Jedda.

Jo leant across the hospital bed and helped herself to as many jelly beans as she could fit into her hand and still get it out of the packet. ‘What does “um” mean?’

‘It might be confession time.’

Jo scanned her former mentor’s face. She’d seen Jedda angry, elated, irritated and even, on one memorable occasion involving a bottle of gin and nowhere near enough tonic, totally squiffy, but she’d never seen Jedda looking coy before.

‘Confess to what?’

‘The Dirt Girls. The scrapbook. The dig site that had already been dug.’

‘I hope this means you’re going to tell me why, Jedda. Why send me out there when the site had already been dug over? Did something go wrong on the dig? Did you not supervise the spoil or something, so you weren’t thorough? You could have just explained that.’

Jedda’s bird cage of a chest rose. ‘Me? Not thorough? Do I need to get security and have you turfed out of here, Joanne Tan?’

Jo grinned. ‘Okay, sorry. My bad. Just tell me what you need to confess and I’ll stop making ludicrous guesses.’

‘Okay, then. Promise me you won’t get mad.’

‘I promise.’

‘Here goes. When I suggested you take my place to fulfil my promise to the Dirt Girls to have another crack at their site, helping your career wasn’t my main concern.’

‘You felt obligated to them. I can understand that. They’re not getting any younger and it was sweet of you to want to fulfil their dream to find a dinosaur on Corley Station.’