of whitewater

Secrets
creek

sarah barrie

0115 JennieJones_2.indd 2 15/10/14 7:20 PM

0115 JennieJones_2.indd 2 15/10/14 7:22 PM

First Published 2014 by Escape Publishing as DEADLY SECRETS
First Australian Paperback Edition 2015
ISBN 978 174369201 1

SECRETS OF WHITEWATER CREEK

© 2014 by Sarah Barrie
Australian Copyright 2014
New Zealand Copyright 2014

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 CHAPTER

November, 2008

It wasn’t quite summer, but even in the mountains, where the dams
never dried up and grass stayed tinged with green even through
drought, the heat, together with the blanketing humidity, was
almost unbearable. Watching haze shimmer over ryegrass pad-
docks, Jordan Windcroft sat sweltering in the passenger seat of Joel
Tanner’s delivery truck as they headed towards town.
It had been a hell of a day; this morning’s delivery run had been
full and the afternoon had been flat out at the shop. Joel had dis-
appeared at lunch time, collecting the rest of his daughter Madi’s
stuff — so she could get away from her bastard fiancé Sean Carter
once and for all. As happy as Jordan was with that development,
it had made for a hard afternoon. She figured that even with help
from Joel’s other employee, Matt, she’d lugged at least a hundred
bags of feed in sauna conditions, in the hot tin shed that was Tan-
ner’s Produce Store.
2 SARAH BARRIE

Matt had finally closed up the shop a half-hour ago and they’d
shared a few beers, counting the minutes until Joel returned and
Jordan could get a ride home. Then Joel had got back, had unloaded
one of the boxes from the truck, and all thoughts of a cold shower
and well-earned rest had flown straight out the window.
And here they were.
The truck’s windows were down in a vain attempt to battle the
vicious burn of forty-plus temperatures glaring through the large
windshield, and Jordan’s fingers were restlessly tapping the win-
dow ledge in time with what she considered pretty bad seventies
music. She swiped her forearm across her damp brow. As her eyes
slid down to the little sachet in her purse, to thoughts of what
was sitting in the back of the truck, irritation turned to nervous
tension.
Of course, they’d known Sean was taking drugs; guessed he was
playing around with a bit of dealing. But they hadn’t expected this:
Joel had mistakenly picked up one of Sean’s boxes while recovering
Madi’s stuff, and it had revealed a shocking amount of little blue pills.
Thank God Madi was getting out.
Now they were taking the stash to the police. The fallout was
not going to be pretty, but to Jordan’s mind, justice was justice.

On the other side of town, Madi Tanner sped blindly along the
main road. As she drove, she played with her hands, peeling and
unpeeling them from the steering wheel as she struggled to keep it
together. The swelling around her left eye blurred her vision and
the incredible pain coursing through her body made driving almost
impossible.
She’d been unable to stem the bleeding from her lip where her
fiancé had lifted her off the ground in that first shattering attack,
and other than the odd wipe with the back of her hand, she let
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 3

it drip at will. Blow after blow she’d taken in the latest of Sean’s
drug-induced irrational tempers. This had been the worst she’d
endured.
In the end it had been the bedside lamp that had saved her; she’d
swung it hard, heard the crack of iron against bone. Even before he
collapsed she was flying from the room, adrenaline blocking the
pain and fuelling her body to flee. Now, as she maneuvered her ’98
model Honda Civic at breakneck speed along the winding coun-
try road, the moment played through her mind in a tireless rerun.
Had she knocked him out? Had she killed him? She could feel
herself shaking — felt hot swelling and crusting blood on her face.
Just as the speedo pushed one-thirty, a blaring horn alerted her
that she was heading onto the wrong side of the road. Swerving
away from the oncoming van, she slammed on the brakes too hard,
sending the car skidding sideways into the gravelled roadside to a
jarring stop.
Frantically, her fingers dug around in a cluttered purse, violently
shaking off an old receipt that stuck to them, stuck to the blood, as
she located her phone.

Joel’s mobile phone shrilled loudly over the chorus of Can’t Buy Me
Love and he pulled the truck over to the side of the road. As the
last remnants of cool died with the breeze and the dust from the
roadside billowed up and threatened to choke them, Jordan bent for
her water bottle, tempted to tip the whole thing over her head right
there in the truck.
‘Madi?’ Joel listened. ‘Madi, love, calm down. Where are you?’
Jordan frowned, her attention now on the conversation. ‘Stay there,
I’m on my way.’ Joel swore and shoved the phone at Jordan, his face
a tormented mask of fury. ‘Call Harry. Tell him Sean’s had another
go at Madi.’
4 SARAH BARRIE

Jordan took the phone, dialled, tried again, then shook her head.
‘It’s cutting out. We won’t get a signal again until we’re clear of the
pass. Where is she?’
‘She got away. She said she’s pulled over at the crossroads.’
‘We’re almost there ourselves...’ She grimaced as the man she
knew to be calm, rational, careful, threw the truck sharply back
onto the road.
‘Joel...’
Joel risked a quick look in Jordan’s direction and noted the anxiety
marring her lovely features. Although Jordan’s hair was a lighter shade
of brown than Madi’s, and her eyes were blue to Madi’s brown, both
were tall and slim and as close as if they had been sisters. Both were
also two of the most precious people in his life. He ordered himself to
take a breath and eased back on the accelerator as much as he dared.
The two extra minutes it took to reach the crossroads seemed an
eternity, but as they approached, they saw Madi’s car on the side of
the road. ‘There she is.’ Joel breathed a sigh of obvious relief that
she appeared to be in no immediate danger.
Madi looked up and shakily climbed out of the car.
‘Oh no, Joel...’ Jordan trailed off as they got a good look at her.
Joel slammed his hand against the steering wheel violently. Sean
had really gone to town on her this time. ‘I’ll kill him. This time
I’ll kill him!’
‘Um...speaking of...’ She pointed just ahead of them to the car
heading at high speed from the road to their left.
‘He wouldn’t want to stop.’ Quite close now, Joel indicated to
pull over.
‘Joel?’
‘What?’
‘He’s not.’
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 5

Joel saw the direction Sean was headed and gasped in horror.
‘Hold on!’ He hit the accelerator again, desperate to reach his
daughter before Sean’s speeding car did.
Jordan caught a brief glimpse of Sean’s face as his car crossed
onto the wrong side of the road, as he pointed his Commodore
straight at Madi; the sneer, the concentration, the hate.
‘Get between them!’ Jordan leaned over and pulled hard on the
wheel, sending the truck lurching violently sideways and off the
road as it cut into Sean’s path, blocking Madi.
The noise — screaming, tearing metal — merged with the pain-
ful blast of impact as truck and car collided. Sean’s car reared up
in front of them, a blur of glass and metal. A terrified face flashed
in front of the windscreen for a moment, before the whole image
simply disappeared under the truck as it moved endlessly forwards,
sideways, dragging, shuddering, before tipping on its side and to an
abrupt halt.
For an immeasurable amount of time everything was silent and
still.
Then came the screaming.
Madi, Jordan recognised hazily. ‘Joel...Joel, are you alright?’ She
was leaning against him in the overturned cabin. The seatbelt was
cutting into her hip, and every small movement of her head radi-
ated glancing pain through her body.
‘Yeah...’ There was a pause as he mentally checked himself over,
then, ‘I reckon. You?’
‘I’m — oh God. Joel, what just happened?’ She was already shak-
ing, shock and reaction quickly setting in.
‘Madi?’
‘Is okay by the sound of her. We have to get out of here. Can
you move?’
6 SARAH BARRIE

‘Maybe...if you get off.’ Somehow, Jordan found it possible to

reply with a shaky laugh as she continued to wrestle with the seat-
belt clasp.
They climbed out through the shattered windscreen and, once
free, stood and stared at the picture they were confronted with.
Madi’s hysterical form was bent over in the gravel, staring at
what was left of her dead husband’s broken body. It was gruesomely
wedged half in, half out of the crushed remnants of his steamrolled
blue Commodore, his lifeless eyes staring at them with a horrifically
blank expression. Jordan shuddered at that, then shuddered again
as she saw how close to Madi’s car the wrecked vehicles had ended
up — how close she’d come to being killed, even with the collision.
She guessed a similar thought was running through Joel’s mind as
he moved unsteadily to his daughter and gently pried her away.
A car came to a screaming halt not far behind and the driver
jumped out, approaching at a run.
‘You guys alright? Oh my...’ Mary Riley took in the remains of
Sean Carter and paled significantly.
‘Dad.’ Madi threw her arms around her father and wept a fresh
tide of tears.
Joel held on. ‘Come away now, love. Don’t look at that.’
The truck’s engine exploded, sending everyone into a tangled
heap on the roadside. Fire engulfed it and Jordan spun away, terri-
fied Sean’s lifeless body would burn: an even more horrific image
to be ingrained into her mind forever.
Nausea washed over her, along with a lightheaded sensation that
threatened to take her under. On a long, slow breath she fought it
back. Her mind was working slowly, but as she sat there it occurred
to her in some distant and surreal part of her working brain that this
was going to cause a lot of trouble.
Joel had just killed Sean Carter.
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 7

Though technically she’d put the truck in his path simply to

protect Madi, no one was going to believe that; because Joel was
already on notice for threatening Sean only days before. Joel — the
gentlest man Jordan had ever met — had stood over Sean Carter in
a room full of witnesses and promised that if he ever laid another
hand on his daughter, he’d kill him.
And he’d done it in front of Sean’s stepfather, Hal Carter, a high-
court judge with a shady reputation and a long-standing grudge
against Joel. Hal had pulled some pretty heavy strings and had pub-
licly issued Joel with an apprehended violence order. And now this.
God...they’d say he’d done it on purpose. Hal would have him
charged with murder.
Through the shaking, through the pasty-white complexion of
shock, Jordan’s eyes hardened into a glassy but steady reflection of
the decision she’d just made. ‘Joel, take Madi and get out of here.’
Joel blinked, looked at her profile blankly for a moment and
attempted to comprehend what she was saying. ‘What? Jordy, don’t
be stupid.’
‘No one needs to know you were involved.’ She took an unsteady
breath, then another, and turned to Joel who was now shaking his
head. ‘You can’t have been driving; it would just look like you
came good on your threat.’
‘Harry will believe us.’
She shook her head. ‘You make this more than a simple accident
and it will be bigger than a local cop, you know that. Hal will make
sure you’re locked up forever. For God’s sake, go!’ Her nerve was
wavering; she needed to follow through quickly. ‘I was just taking
the truck back to my place with some feed...Sean was high, came
out of nowhere, hit me. It was an accident.’
‘She’s right, Joel.’ Mary had watched on silently, pretty sure Jor-
dan was in no state to make a rational decision. But she knew the
8 SARAH BARRIE

situation; had to agree with her, even as Joel shook his head slowly
in objection. ‘Jordan’s right. I believe in the law but this is just one
of those situations — it won’t end up right. Sean’s gone. We can’t
change that. Madi’s been through enough. Take her home.’
‘Jordy...you’ve been drinking...in an accident. You don’t know
what you’re doing.’
‘We don’t have time for this.’ Mary waved off a concerned pass-
ing motorist. ‘Yeah, cops are on their way, thanks.’ She turned back
to Joel. ‘Take your daughter home and clean up. I’m calling Harry
and staying with Jordy.’
When Joel just continued to shake his head, Mary grabbed his
arms and shook. ‘Joel, how are Carol and Madi going to cope
if you’re locked up for the next twenty or more years? You take
yourself and Madi out of the equation and this looks like a feasible
accident. It needs to stay that way. Go home.’
 CHAPTER

September, 2012

‘That’s the last of them!’ Jordan opened the head bales, sending a
red and white Hereford steer barrelling out of the crush and push-
ing his way into the centre of the herd.
Matt sat on an overturned milk crate and took down the reading
from the weight scales. ‘That cranky bastard came in at just over
five hundred kilos!’
‘You sure you don’t want to sell these now?’ Joel wearily slipped
the backpack of cattle drench from his back and rolled stiff shoul-
ders. ‘They’re already finished perfectly.’
Jordan jumped lightly down from her perch on the crush railing
and ran her eyes over Matt’s records. ‘Nope,’ she decided, though
her smile was satisfied. ‘They can put on a bit more yet. I want these
boys to make top dollar.’
‘Assuming the market stays strong,’ Joel reminded her, kicking
over the now vacant milk crate and tossing in their equipment.
10 SARAH BARRIE

‘Course it will.’ Picking up the drencher, Jordan wandered back

toward the shed with the men.
Matt sent Jordan a hopeful smile. ‘Ah...beer o’clock?’
Jordan checked her watch. ‘Not if you want to stay on Madi’s
good side.’
‘Madi...’ Matt ran a hand through his untidy brown hair and
looked, to Jordan’s mind, adorably anxious. ‘What time is it?’
‘Almost five-thirty.’
‘Five...I’m gone.’
She watched with an affectionate smirk as he loped back to his
car with a wave. ‘That’s sweet.’
‘Sweet my butt.’ Joel shook his head as Matt revved the ute’s
engine and reversed, before heading down the driveway in a cloud
of dust. ‘Madi won’t talk to him for a week if she misses that movie.’
‘Nah, she’s crazy about him. It’s nice.’
Joel nodded in agreement. ‘Matt’s a good man.’ He didn’t say
‘unlike Sean’; he didn’t have to. ‘You got much else to do?’ He
dropped an arm over her shoulders as they walked back to his Land
Cruiser.
‘Not a lot. I should play with the stud stock for a while...they’re
not exactly halter trained.’
‘Want a hand?’
Jordan shook her head. ‘I would never have got all that drench-
ing and vaccinating done by myself, but I can handle the rest. So
thanks.’ They stopped by his car, and she got up on her toes and
gave him a kiss on his cheek. ‘You’ve got your own work to do.
And thank Carol for the muffins.’
‘Thank her? I damn near killed her — they’re my favourite.’
She laughed. ‘And they’ve gone to a very good home.’
A loud, far-off rumbling warned them the weather was about to
close in. Both looked to the horizon; saw the line of black touching
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 11

the mountains. ‘Of course, I might not be doing much with those
cattle after all.’
‘Call it a day.’ Joel climbed into the driver’s seat and wound
down the window. ‘Those steers look great. Between those and the
stud cattle — especially that bull of yours — you’re going to get the
money you need to pay out the bank.’
‘I’m counting on it.’
Joel hesitated, then said, ‘Your probation. That’s nearly done too,
isn’t it?’
‘Two weeks after the sale.’
‘Best start planning the party.’
‘Oh, I’m on it.’ She smiled and waved. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Right. Take it easy, love.’
As Jordan headed for the house, her smile fell. She wished
she had Joel’s confidence about the cattle. It would be a relief to
reach the end of her probation, to put it all behind them once
and for all...but there wouldn’t be much to celebrate if she lost
the farm. And without a good sale, that’s exactly what was going
to happen.
She looked around. The large, sprawling house with its long
verandas and pretty cottage windows desperately needed a new
coat of paint, the veranda decking needed re-staining, the railings
replacing. The native gardens surrounding the house still looked
good, though she had to admit her mother had had the real knack
for that and precious little had been added over the years.
There was nothing like that view though. More than a decade
of debt and neglect had not — could never — diminish the view.
The long stretch of paddocks, ancient shade trees and the sparkling
creek, the ageless, forested mountains, would always be the same.
This place belonged to her, and her to it — and she’d be damned if
the bank was going to take it from her.
12 SARAH BARRIE

She lifted her head to the sky as a flock of black cockatoos

screeched noisily overhead, fleeing the oncoming weather that
would shortly put paid to anymore outdoor work, at least for the
day. With a tired sigh, she headed for the veranda steps.
There was still so much to do. In the next few weeks there’d be
an influx of new calves — which reminded her that she needed a
new bander for the castrations. And she hadn’t been exaggerating
when she’d told Joel that the stud cattle weren’t ready: their ear
tattoos should have been done by now, the halter breaking wasn’t
finished, and she was sweating on the last of the stud registration
papers arriving on time. She thought again about the sale registra-
tion forms and wondered how she could afford the entries. The
money wasn’t just going to materialise. She’d have to risk the power
being cut off.
She reached the house and quickly shimmied sideways when
she heard the wild hissing noise coming from the steps, then
swore and glared threateningly at the angry goose that emerged
from them.
‘Eight-hundred acres...and you pick the front veranda to nest
under!’
She was rewarded with another hiss, then a loud, threatening
‘honk.’ She ran quickly up to her front door, knowing that, given
the slightest opportunity, the damn bird would take a decent chunk
out of her heel.
Heading straight to the fridge for a glass of Coke, Jordan sat
with a tired sigh. She’d have a quick drink, then, if she was going
to get the majority of the afternoon chores done without getting
drowned, she’d need to get back to it.

The oncoming thunderstorm darkened the sky to an early, eerie

twilight. The entire world seemed to pause, to wait, then, with a
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 13

sound like a starter’s gun, thunder clapped overhead and lightning

speared across the sky, setting off hell.
On the narrow, winding road into town, Detective Senior Ser-
geant Reid Easton cursed as the headlights reflected blindingly off
the spinning, twirling blanket of encroaching fog, while the wind-
screen wipers fought a hopeless battle with the relentless deluge
pounding against the glass. The road was a joke; a narrow, corru-
gated ice rink clawed into sheer mountainside. Another tight turn
and ahead of him the trees parted briefly, teasing him with a preview
of the town sprawled out in the middle of a long stretch of valley
an impossible distance below him. He couldn’t see much of it, but
decided he’d be glad to make it there. This morning he’d thought
he’d rather be just about anywhere else, but if his present location
qualified, Whitewater Creek just got a whole lot more inviting.
Besides, the town heralded what would hopefully be the final
chapter in his last case. He’d been chasing this drug cartel for years,
had flushed out and shut down most of its suppliers and was one lab
shy of tracking down the ringleader. So he’d expose this one, shut
it down — then he intended on wrapping this case up once and for
all, so he could figure out just what he intended on doing with the
rest of his life.
He needed this change. The tight fist of drive and determina-
tion that had pushed him for the last decade or so had loosened
under the sheer weight of countless victims, wasted lives, greed
and corruption. He’d made his mark on the suppression of the
drug trade, paid what he saw as his dues to his family, to his dead
sister. He’d seen too much, endured too much. Nothing shocked
him anymore, very little made him cringe or disturbed him
very deeply. He needed out before he lost his sense of humanity,
his belief in the world in general. This was it. And the faster he
wrapped it up, the better.
14 SARAH BARRIE

Half an hour later, he stepped out of the late model Prado with
relief. He cursed the weather — the rain was only spitting lightly
now, as if to make a mockery of the hell it had just put him through.
He rolled his shoulders, stretched and looked around.
The police station stood on the wide main street: a narrow
building of sandstone with a proud façade and freshly painted
eaves in heritage green. The concrete plaque over the heavy front
door boasted 1832 — a tribute to the age of the small town.
Flanking it and towering over their surroundings were age-old
Liquidambar trees, just beginning their burst into fresh, spring-
time green. They ran the length of the street, spreading their
textured branches over a row of pretty buildings all neatly tucked
in their places.
Even in the fading light, the surroundings glistened from the
downpour. The air was the pure, clean sort you just didn’t get in the
city, or anywhere close to it, but he’d appreciate that later, as right
then he figured it was close to cold enough to freeze the air in his
lungs, while the damp was seeping into his clothing and chilling
him to the bone.
The noise of an opening door drew his attention back to the sta-
tion. The man who opened the door was somewhere in his sixties,
he guessed, a little on the stocky side, with a comfortable paunch
and thinning silver hair framing a rounded, friendly face and shrewd
eyes. Harold Steiner, he presumed — Whitewater Creek’s one and
only police officer.
‘I’m guessing you’d be Reid err...Tallon?’ the uniformed man
enquired, remembering at the last second to use his assumed sur-
name and offering his hand at Reid’s nod. ‘Harry Steiner. Let’s get
in out of the cold.’
Reid was led into a large front reception room in typical station
style. Behind the desk was a plump, over-dressed woman with a
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 15

cloud of silver grey hair and a welcoming smile. When she spotted
him, she got to her feet and held out her hand.
‘Reid Tallon, meet my wife, Martha. You’ll see her quite a bit;
she runs the station for me.’
Reid smiled at the obviously curious woman. ‘Nice to meet you,
Martha.’
‘And you, Reid.’ Martha caught her husband’s censoring glance,
and smiled brilliantly. ‘Well...I was just on my way home. I’ll leave
you two to it. I have to get dinner on, and there’ll be plenty of time
for chatting.’ She picked up her purse and addressed Harry. ‘See you
at home, darl.’
With another polite smile, Reid followed Harry down a long
corridor. The room he entered at the end of it was small and imper-
sonal, with a square wooden table taking up the centre of the narrow
space and a small kitchenette on his right. Dusty artificial ivy in a
terracotta pot that had seen better days was the only decoration,
while an uncurtained window almost begrudgingly gave a hint of
a small, grassed yard, unimaginatively decorated with a couple of
trees he couldn’t name.
Harry picked up the kettle and poured two cups of steaming cof-
fee. ‘Milk, sugar?’
Reid shook his head and folded himself into a chair.
‘I hope you don’t mind but I did a bit of checking.’ He handed
Reid an ancient china cup with a faded floral design. ‘I’m surprised
they sent someone like you in for a small-town drug investigation.
Must be bigger than the suits are letting on?’
Reid stretched out his long legs and shook his head again. ‘Not
exactly. We believe what you have here is one of several small labs
that have been supplying a major methamphetamine operation. We
want to quietly locate the lab and use it to lead us to the ringleader.
I report to the SCC but I’m happy to keep you in the loop.’
16 SARAH BARRIE

Harry nodded slowly as Reid spoke then considered it all a

moment more. ‘Wouldn’t you be better off coming in as something
a little less...authoritarian?’
‘There are strategic reasons for my cover as a probation officer.’
Harry blew out a breath. ‘I know from time to time a few of the
young ones get their hands on some of those party drugs, but I can’t
imagine anyone running a professional lab down here. I just can’t
see that sort of rubbish going on right under my nose like this.’
Reid shrugged. ‘We’ll see.’
Harry nodded amicably enough. ‘I have your office ready for you.
Our regular probation officer, Neil Barrington, left you his files.’
He indicated to a pile of folders on the table. ‘There’s only the one
probationer in Whitewater Creek, the others are from surround-
ing towns and one guy’s new. He’s working somewhere round here
with the seasonal mob — but I’m sure you already know that.’
‘Yes, thanks.’ And he’s working for me, Reid added silently.
Although he was clear to discuss elements of the case, he drew the
line at putting his colleagues’ lives in the hands of strangers — even
other cops.
‘Your first appointment is Jordan Windcroft. Lovely girl. She
won’t give you any trouble.’
‘From my experience, lovely girls don’t end up on probation,’
he muttered, sipping the scalding liquid in his cup. He didn’t add
that investigating Jordan was behind the ‘strategic reason’ he’d just
mentioned, but he picked out the folder labelled ‘Windcroft, J’ and
dumped the rest of them back on the table. The other folders were
nothing more than mild annoyances.
Flicking the folder open, he was immediately struck by the
photo in front of him. This wasn’t the black-and-white mug shot he
remembered glancing over without any real interest when he’d read
through her original file. Attached by a paper-clip was a snapshot
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 17

of a startlingly pretty woman. She was looking off to the left, hand
holding an Akubra hat on her head, while long, honey-brown
hair tangled around a classically sculpted face as she smiled into
the wind. The bright, excited blue eyes had lit up, caught in some
moment he could only imagine.
He found his focus automatically moving to the details he’d already
memorised: Thirty-year-old female...no prior offences...drug pos-
session...driving under the influence...high speed MVA...suspended
sentence...probation order. She should have gone to prison, he thought,
not for the first time. And a pretty face wasn’t going to sway him.
The coincidence was too great — what were the chances she’d be
carrying a quantity of meth in the same area the snitch had reported
the lab was located in, in a town this size, and not be involved?
‘Just go easy on our girl, eh? Not everything’s black and white.’
Our girl? Reid shook his head. This would be the ‘classic small-
town attitude’ he’d been warned about. But he nodded briefly.
‘I’ll...take that under consideration.’
‘Right, well, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying — nice little
cottage two streets down. We can discuss everything more in the
morning.’

Ten forty-five. Reid tapped his fingers against his desk and con-
templated his next move. He hadn’t slept well — it was too damn
quiet in this town. So he’d gotten into his new office early and sat
through that discussion with Harry; taking what information he
could get and humouring Harry by giving some back. All he’d
really had his mind on was meeting Jordan Windcroft. Of course,
Jordan Windcroft hadn’t shown.
He’d tried her home phone but the call rang out. Next, he’d
called her mobile. After a few rings a friendly, melodic voice had
told him he had reached Jordan and that she promised to call him
18 SARAH BARRIE

back if he left a message. Deciding against it, he’d hung up and

given her another fifteen minutes. Still, she hadn’t shown. The
clock ticked over again.
‘That’s it.’ He swung his feet from the corner of his desk and got
to his feet. ‘I’ll go for a drive.’
The road out to Windcroft Acres was scenic at worst, and the
heavy forest and occasional views of cleared countryside improved
his mood. It bordered on nuts to have the windows down — this
town needed reminding it was springtime — but as cold as the air
still was, he just couldn’t get past the smell of it. The smell, the
sounds, the sights — Whitewater Creek was as alien to him as
another planet. He liked that about this place.
It took him thirty minutes to reach the fork in the road that the
GPS assured him signalled he’d reached Jordan’s property. Looking
right, he saw a cattle grid between two peeling white fenceposts
and a faded sign marked ‘Windcroft Acres’. Taking the turn, he hit
the brakes to stare in appreciation.
In front of him, the forest gave way to an endless expanse of large
green paddocks dotted with gum trees and brown cattle. A small
creek, bordered in places by massive willow trees cut through the
property, winding its way through the paddocks like a giant snake
and disappearing into the distance where he could see outbuild-
ings, yards, then further on, a cream-coloured weatherboard house
perched at the bottom of a line of trees that climbed to the sky. On
all sides were the ever-present mountains.
‘Nice.’
It seemed Jordan Windcroft had her own private little valley, and
although the man-made touches were somewhat run-down, it was
a breathtaking spot. Impressed, Reid headed off again toward the
house.
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 19

The thunderstorm from the night before had turned the round yard
into a boggy, slippery pit, and Jordan’s legs wrapped even more
tightly around the little bay thoroughbred’s sides as it found a new
gear and performed the best impersonation of a saddle bronc she’d
ever sat on. For several minutes they circled in an unpredictable
cycle of bucks, kicks and pigroots as fast and high as the hot-headed
mare’s feet would take her.
On the other side of the fence, her owners dodged flying mud
and watched on in horror at the behaviour of their recently acquired
and so-called well-educated future champion. Somewhere behind
them, Jordan noticed a car pull up, but she didn’t have time to con-
sider the whys and wherefores — she was battling to keep her seat
and grinning from ear to ear, hoping to hell she didn’t get thrown
and break something. That would be the end of it — she’d never
get the cattle prepped in time and, if she missed that sale, the bank
would foreclose on the property.
Just as the thought struck her, the mare gave one last desperate
leap before planting her feet and, hollow-backed with sides heaving,
dropped her nose to the ground, sweat running in rivulets down
her sides. Jordan made the mare walk off then halt on command
and, relieved at the compliance, jumped off. No point pushing the
issue further today. With a hopeless attempt at dusting herself off,
she collected the reins and led the horse back across to the dazed
owners.
‘Well Rob, you told me she could buck.’ Still buzzing with
adrenaline, Jordan laughed, eyes dancing.
The well-dressed, middle-aged man leaning on the fence looked
uncomfortable. His wife, a tiny blonde woman named Julie, was
close to tears. ‘What on earth are we going to do with her?’
Rob immediately looked at Jordan.
20 SARAH BARRIE

‘Start again.’ Jordan’s face sobered sympathetically at the woman’s

obvious distress. She glanced past the couple as she unlatched the
round yard gate and saw the other visitor, now standing close by.
Whoa Nelly...who is that?
The cliché of tall, dark and handsome wore dark pants, a blue
shirt — unbuttoned at the top — no tie, but nice jacket, fancy
shoes. He stood ramrod straight, perfectly still and, though he was
wearing sunglasses, she just knew his gaze wouldn’t waver. Uh-oh,
he’d be the guy they’d threatened to send out from the bank. The thought
made her hesitant to give him the time of day.
Forcing herself not to stare, she concentrated on what the couple
were saying.
‘...she was fine at the inspection,’ Rob was explaining.
‘Did you get a vet check?’
Julie coloured. ‘Ah...no, actually. I was just so in love with her
on sight and...’
Jordan smiled in understanding. ‘It happens. If you want to
persevere with her, I’ll do all I can.’
After some further reassurances, she waved them off and led
the heaving horse toward the wash bays. Exhausted and beaten, the
mare dragged herself along reluctantly.
‘Sorry Prima.’ Jordan gave the mare a reassuring pat. ‘Someone’s
broken you, haven’t they, huh?’ She was very aware the stranger
was hanging back as she unsaddled but, needing a moment to col-
lect her thoughts, she turned on the hose.
Sweat and water mingled and steam rose from the mare’s back as
the hose did its work. She’d already begun working out a strategy
in her mind for retraining her, beginning with some basic ground-
work. The vet would have to be called of course, just to double
check there were no underlying problems...
‘Miss Windcroft?’
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 21

Hmmm. Sounds as good as he looks. She blew out a breath at the

sexy, deep voice then frowned at the direction her thoughts were
taking. And considering getting it on with the guy coming in to make you
homeless is crazy — even for you.
She turned off the hose and picked up a scraper to remove the
excess water from the horse’s coat. Only then did she pause momen-
tarily to look over her shoulder.
‘Who’s asking?’
‘Reid Tallon.’
Impatiently, she blew out a breath. ‘And what do you want, Reid
Tallon?’
‘You.’
Startled, she took another, longer look, tipping her head to the
side to consider him. Is he joking? He’d removed his sunglasses, and
his expression wasn’t amused. It was assessing, maybe somewhat
annoyed. She decided he was pissed off she’d kept him waiting; was
just trying to get under her skin.
Well, two could play that game.
Deciding to bite, she dropped the scraper back into the box and
slowly turned around. Leaning back on the rail, she took her time
looking him up and down, a small grin playing at the corners of
her mouth.
Yep, she could look at that all day, though her initial assess-
ment had been a little off. He wasn’t quite the classic tall, dark and
handsome — that didn’t fit. The angles of his face were a little too
harsh, the look in those dark eyes a little too threatening.
Dangerous. She liked that even better. However, ‘Thanks for the
offer...but no thanks.’
At his look of incredulity she quickly turned her attention back
to the horse and smothered a grin before carelessly untying the
mare and leading her off towards an empty yard.
22 SARAH BARRIE

He didn’t move, just waited until she released the horse, until
she headed back in his direction. ‘Ever heard of probation, Miss
Windcroft?’
Realisation hit with an uncomfortable jolt. Damn it, Barney men-
tioned something about leave...but this guy? ‘No way.’
‘Afraid so,’ he replied, crossing his arms, ‘You missed your
appointment.’
‘You sure you’re not the pressure suit from the bank?’
‘No.’
She stared at him for a few more seconds, then said, ‘It’s some
sort of joke — right?’
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
‘I mean,’ she began as she walked back towards the wash bays,
‘you’re six-foot-something-enormous, drop-dead gorgeous and
built like Superman. You speak like you’re not used to taking
bullshit and have an energy that screams “fuck with me and I’ll rip
you into a million little pieces”. Now, you’re either a highly paid
stand-over man or the world’s next superhero. What you’re not,
Reid Tallon, is a fill-in, small-town probation officer.’
She saw the twitch of his lips, the quick flick of appreciation in
his eyes. ‘That’s quite the rap. I’m flattered.’
‘Don’t be. It was an observation, not a compliment.’
‘Either way, we need to spend some time together Miss —’
‘Ok — first, you can cut that out.’ She hefted her gear into her
arms and headed across to the stables. ‘The name’s Jordan. I haven’t
been called Miss Windcroft so many times since the inquisition
after the accident. Look...Reid.’ She paused to face him. ‘I don’t do
house calls — I’m flat out twenty-four seven. Barney just pops up
here every now and again for a cuppa to check I’m behaving myself.
My probation’s just about up and the system has always worked
perfectly. No point changing it now, is there?’ She waited while his
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 23

gaze slid over her face — she was uncomfortably aware she prob-
ably had mud-spatter all over it — and he considered her statement.
‘Mr Barrington’s on leave, Jordan. For the record, I do things by
the book, and my book says you report to the office.’
‘Your “book”?’ she countered, biting back another grin at the
flicker of annoyance that came over his features. ‘Your book deals
in fairy tales, big guy. Barney always visits me.’ At least, he has since
I missed my first two appointments.
Something tightened in his jaw. ‘That’s not what’s recorded in
your file. Have you done your drug and alcohol test?’
Jordan just pulled a face. ‘Do I look particularly drug or alcohol
affected to you?’ Obviously deciding to take her up on that ‘look’,
his eyes roamed lazily over her, submitting her to much the same
scrutiny she’d just held him under. When his gaze lifted from her
very full bottom lip back to her eyes, a touch of colour came into
her face and a small smirk touched his mouth. ‘I wouldn’t know.
That’s why we have tests.’
Jordan shifted the weight of the saddle onto her other arm and
released a long, quiet breath in an attempt to uncoil some of the
knots tightening in her stomach. Reid Tallon was a complication
she really didn’t need. And to make things worse, he was obviously
from the city. ‘Do you have the faintest idea what’s involved in run-
ning a farm?’
His brow rose at the that. ‘Not a clue. Do you have the faintest
idea what’s going to happen if you miss that appointment?’
From the city, arrogant and immovable. With a dramatic sigh, she
smiled sweetly. ‘Fine. I’ll go...tomorrow.’
‘Today.’
With a probable past life as a Nazi dictator. The smile tightened,
dropped. ‘Right, well. I’ll write you up a list of what needs to hap-
pen here this afternoon and you tell me when I’m likely to fit that in.’
24 SARAH BARRIE

‘How does now sound?’

‘Like a really, really bad joke.’
Reid’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘If I said I was willing to
make an exception, just this once, I’d need an assurance you’d be in
my office at ten-thirty sharp tomorrow morning.’
Jordan thought about that, decided with a bit of juggling it would
probably be possible. ‘I can probably be there by ten-thirty.’
‘Probably isn’t good enough. You skip on me again, you’ll be
arrested. Understand?’
Jordan hid her surprise quickly and her smile was forced, but she
gave herself points for pulling one off anyway. ‘Perfectly.’
With a quick nod, Reid walked back to his car, turned. ‘You do
what you’re told; we can take another look at your arrangement.’
Do what I’m told? She huffed indignantly. ‘What am I, five? How
does “screw you” sit for an arrangement?’
He paused, his eyes dancing with amused mockery. ‘I thought
you turned me down.’
As he drove away, Jordan closed her mouth and slowly shook her
head. She wanted to be pissed off — she should be. But wow.

Reid strode into the police station, nodded at Martha, sat heavily
in his seat and expelled a long breath. Then he laughed. Jordan
Windcroft was going to be a handful. A rather spectacular handful,
he admitted. Every bit of that body of hers had been taut length and
subtle curves, her skin a sun-kissed bronze, her eyes a more intense
blue than the photo had done justice to. Somehow the untidy
ponytail and Akubra hat had only accentuated her lovely face. Then
there was that attitude. He laughed again. And what an attitude.
He pulled his thoughts up with a start, reminding himself he
wasn’t here to admire the woman and that, in all probability, she
was a drug dealer. The idea sat uncomfortably with him as he
turned on his computer and got to work.
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 25

Harry appeared in the doorway just as he opened his emails.

‘Rough morning?’
‘Jordan Windcroft,’ Reid muttered, earning a smirk that bor-
dered on outright amusement.
‘Oh?’ Harry’s face was all innocence as he pulled up a chair across
from Reid’s.
‘Save it, Harry. Why didn’t you warn me?’
‘Oh now...warn you about Jordy?’
‘She missed her appointment. I don’t know what her relationship
is with Neil Barrington, but she said Barney — Barney, for heaven’s
sake — occasionally just popped up for coffee, and that I was mess-
ing with a perfectly good system.’
This time Harry did laugh. ‘Well, to be honest, it is a good
system...kind of ensures she doesn’t miss her appointments. It’s not
unusual to do home visits.’
‘I’m not a mind-reader. She’s supposed to come here.’
Harry scratched his head and almost hid his grin. ‘I’m sure she
meant to.’
Reid’s eyes narrowed. ‘How often has she skipped her D and A
testing?’
‘She visits the doc when she’s got time.’
‘Kind of a casual system you’re running here.’
Harry didn’t appear the least offended. ‘Jordy’s got a lot on her
plate just at the moment, that’s all.’
Reid got to his feet and went to the filing cabinet, picked out his
undercover partner’s folder. ‘I have to head out again or I’ll be late
for another appointment.’
Harry followed Reid out to the reception room where Martha
was busy tidying up and watched him drive away. ‘A bit wound up,
that boy,’ he commented, as much to himself as his wife.
‘He’s from the city, love. Did he bump up against Jordy?’
‘Sounds like.’
26 SARAH BARRIE

Martha nodded, pondered. ‘I thought those two might rub each

other the wrong way. Awfully attractive, don’t you think?’
Harry scratched his head, perplexed. ‘There’s just no right way
for me to answer that, Martha.’
Laughing, she hooked his arm. ‘Come on, I’ll make you a cuppa.’

Reid opened the door to Brett’s small rented unit fifteen minutes
later, and was greeted by a nod of the head and the offer of coffee.
‘Thanks — hit it twice.’ He took a seat at the little round kitchen
table and watched as, obliging, Brett added an extra spoonful of
instant to the mug. ‘How’s country life treating you?’
Brett sent him a bland stare. ‘Oh, I love it. Really. Just so you
know, I want a pay rise. This hay we’re cutting and baling fills
every available orifice and itches like a bitch. Only thing worse is
the chaff cutter.’ He rolled his shoulders with a grimace. ‘If this
takes more than another week I’m claiming my long-service leave.’
Reid didn’t even attempt to hide his amusement. ‘All this bitch-
ing over a bit of hard work?’
Brett looked from the mug to Reid’s face before dumping it on
the table. ‘You’re lucky it’s hot.’
Reid chuckled at the implied threat and stretched out. ‘Meet any
interesting characters while you were enjoying the great outdoors?’
‘Depends. By “interesting” do you mean “can speak more than
three words running and own more than two teeth”?’
‘You’re exaggerating,’ Reid replied. ‘Surely.’
‘Only marginally. I’ve let it get around quietly I’m finishing up
some probation for dealing and that if anyone knew of any on-the-
side jobs to keep me in mind. Don’t know that anyone was overly
interested, but we’ll see. How’d you go?’
‘I had my first round with Jordan Windcroft.’
‘And?’
 S E C R E T S O F W H I T E WAT E R C R E E K 27

‘I don’t know yet. She fits the profile.’

Brett nodded slowly, considering. ‘How you gonna play it?’
‘Hard ass for now. She’s already suspicious.’ He sent Brett a side-
ways grin. ‘She called me on it.’
Brett’s eyebrows rose. ‘Clever girl.’
Reid’s grin spread. ‘Yeah. She said I was drop-dead gorgeous and
probably the world’s next superhero.’
In the process of taking a cautious sip of his coffee, Brett just
about spewed it all over the table. ‘She did not!’
Reid replied with a one-shoulder shrug. ‘I’m pretty sure a lot of
less complimentary things ran through her head too, but that’s just
speculation.’
‘No surprises there.’ Brett cleared his throat, recovering. ‘Pretty?’
Reid’s thoughts went back to Jordan’s flushed face, the defiant
tilt of her chin, the furious, sparkling blue eyes that held a touch
of something wild and untamed that was pure temptation. As was
that mouth. Pretty didn’t really seem to cover it. It was a shame she
was his lead in the case, or he would have enjoyed...well, he would
have enjoyed.
Don’t forget what she is, he reminded himself, and shrugged at
Brett. ‘My head’s on the job, not on a pretty face. She’s a person of
interest.’
Brett laughed. ‘So yes to pretty, and I have to say: of course she is.’
‘She’s got more than two teeth and the ability to string together
a sentence, if that’s your control group.’ Reid automatically taunted.
‘Might not hurt for you to pal it up with her either.’
‘First available opportunity. In fact, I’ll make it a priority. Just...
wrap this up quick,’ he pleaded, scratching absently at his neck. ‘I
wasn’t kidding about the hay.’