Page 67 of Whispers of Sweetwater

They walked towards the gap between the tall swaying cane, their boots crunching over brittle undergrowth. The afternoon was thick with heat and humidity, and the sweet scent of cane sap clung to the air. Moving deeper into the fringe of the plantation, Hayden spotted the old cattle ramp off to the left, half-rotted, barely standing. Near it, a patch of disturbed earth caught his eye.

‘Here,’ he said, crouching.

Gavin joined him. ‘Someone’s definitely been digging.’

Hayden reached down and brushed the loose dirt away. Not enough to uncover anything completely, but enough to reveal the corner of a black plastic tarp.

They looked at each other.

‘Did we bring a shovel?’ Gavin asked.

Hayden gave him a sideways glance. ‘Do I look like I came prepared?’

‘Well, it’s your lucky day, Pierce, because I’ve got a crowbar in the tray.’

‘Good on you, Gav.’

‘I’ll go grab it. You stay here and keep a lookout.’

‘Will do.’ Hayden rose and brushed his hands on his jeans. ‘But be quick about it. I’m not sure how long we have before someone comes back here to get this.’

As Gavin jogged back to his ute, Hayden scanned the surrounding area. Every tree, every shift in the breeze felt like it might be hiding something, or someone. The cane rustled softly, but it wasn’t the wind that unsettled him. It was the knowledge that whatever they were about to uncover had been deliberately hidden, carefully buried. He rubbed a hand across his jaw, stubble scratching beneath his palm, heart beginning to thud harder. The tarp, barely exposed beneath the dirt, seemed to pulse with secrets. Whatever was buried here, it had weight. Purpose. Danger written all over it. His gut twisted as his thoughts veered to Molly, and then, unbidden, to Brianna. Christ, if this whole mess spiralled any further, they could get hurt. Molly had already lost too much. And Bri – he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her. The idea of losing her now, before he’d even got the chance to tell her how much she meant to him, tightened something sharply in his chest. A flicker of memory surfaced. Of Casey, her sweet laughter echoing in the paddocks, and the way she used to brush Duchess as she hummed to herself. Losing her had left a void he thought would never close. And now, with Brianna filling that gaping chasm, one that had almost swallowed him whole …

Oh god, he couldn’t go through this again. Not with her. Not with this raw, rising thing between them that felt as terrifying as it was undeniable.

Gavin returned, crowbar in hand. ‘This will do the trick,’ he said, dropping to one knee.

Hayden joined his mate, and together they worked in silence, prying the soil loose and peeling the edges of the tarp back bit by bit. The earth was damp, clinging to their fingers and boots. Sweat trickled down Hayden’s back as he leant in, revealing what lay beneath. It was a large metal toolbox. More significantly, a locked metal toolbox.

Hayden glanced at Gavin. ‘I don’t suppose you got anything for this?’

‘Sure do.’ Gavin fished a multi-tool from his pocket. ‘Let’s find out what’s in there.’

It took some coaxing, but eventually the latch gave with a soft clunk. Hayden flipped the lid open. They both stared in shock. Inside were several weapons. Two old pistols, a sawn-off shotgun with a taped grip, and boxes of ammunition tucked into the bottom corners. And wedged beneath one of the ammo packets, wrapped in a waterproof canvas, was something else entirely. Hayden carefully reached in and pulled out a sealed container. Inside it was a set of slim glass vials. The labels were faded, but clear enough. He knew each as veterinary-grade anaesthetic.

‘Well bugger me.’ Gavin leant closer. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

‘Sure is. Looks like sedatives. Strong ones,’ Hayden said, brows furrowed. ‘The kind used in horse racing. Maybe for illegal matches, or to rig results.’

Gavin blew out a slow breath. ‘Jesus. This goes deeper than just debt and threats.’

Hayden stared at the vials, anger simmering low in his chest. His gut twisted. Horses weren’t just animals to him. They were his life. His livelihood. He bred them, trained them, trusted them, adored each and every one he’d bred, raised, saved. The thought of someone drugging such majestic creatures, dulling their instincts, using them like disposable tools for profit, made his blood boil.

‘Trev and Joe are always hanging around the TAB when they’re not at work.’ Hayden fought to keep the rage from making him do anything rash. ‘Never thought much of it before, but now? It fits. Maybe they weren’t just watching races, maybe they were making sure the races ended the way they wanted.’

Gavin swore under his breath, glancing back towards the fields. ‘Bloody hell, this is bigger than I thought.’

They exchanged a look, equal parts alarm and angry comprehension.

‘We can’t take this,’ Hayden said, waving a hand at the toolbox. ‘Not yet. If someone checks on this and finds it missing, they’ll know we’re onto them.’

‘Agreed,’ Gavin said. ‘We cover it back up. Say nothing until we’re ready to move.’

Hayden nodded and grabbed the tarp corners. ‘We remember every inch of how we found it.’

They worked in silence, re-covering the box, tamping the soil down carefully, brushing away their tracks. When they stood and stepped back, it looked untouched. But everything had changed.

They drove in convoy back to Sweetwater Acres, then Gavin joined Hayden in his LandCruiser. They drove back into town, where the streets felt too quiet. His mind in a spin, Hayden headed towards the servo to refuel. Then they planned on grabbing something quick to eat while they planned what to do next. Neither of them had eaten since breakfast.