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Tarni shook her head. ‘It still needs filtering or boiling. You’d be surprised what can get into water tanks. Plus, up here in the tropics, I would say the water would be quite warm. An ideal temperature for breeding microbiological organisms.’

Cy nodded as they walked across to his ute. ‘You sound like Dee. I must get them to call in one day. You’d have a lot in common.’

‘Dee?’

‘Dee is my cousin’s wife on the other side of the family. My cousin Ryan is Ellie’s half-brother. That was how I got the job here, although I had met Ellie’s family at Dee and Ryan’s wedding.’

‘What would we have in common?’

‘Dee managed her family’s macadamia nut farm in New South Wales before she came to the Territory. She’s been very interested in what Kane is doing here.’

‘It would be nice to meet her.’

Cy locked the shed and then opened the door of his ute for Tarni. ‘Sorry, hang on a minute. I’ll make some room for you. I don’t usually have a passenger.’ He picked up a couple of empty KFC cartons, a milkshake container, and three empty Coke cans.

‘Sorry,’ he said again as he held the door open for her after he’d put them in the bin outside the shed. ‘It’s always a bit grotty in there. A bloke’s ute.’

Her eyes were full of laughter. ‘I can see now why you were so keen to wangle a dinner invitation.’

‘Chicken is good for you,’ he said defensively, but he couldn’t help his grin.

Chapter 19

Arnhem Highway - Sunday afternoon.

Dean

About half a kilometre from the McLaren Mango Farm on the road towards Darwin, a black ute sat in the truck parking bay. He’d pulled in there and leaned back in his seat with his cap half over his face so he could keep an eye on the front gate of the farm.

He imagined that the McLarens would be coming this way because he had said they were going to town, and to Dean, that meant Darwin.

Strange bloke, that McLaren guy. He always sounded posh on the phone calling himself “I” all the time. He never even said “me” as a normal person would. His wife was a looker though. A bit tall for Dean’s taste, but he’d got a really good look at her so he could describe her to Russell when he went back to the jail next week.

If they were going to Darwin, they’d be gone more than two hours, even if they turned around and came straight back. He could have a good look around the place and set his traps.

Dean sat there with the air conditioning running until the ute cooled down, and then he lowered the windows to let some fresh air in; it was still strange being out in the fresh air and being able to go where ever he wanted to when he wanted. He hadn’t got used to the heat having been in that air-conditioned shit box for seven years. He loved the ute so much that he’d already used three tanks of diesel driving around.

The freedom to go where he wanted, whenever he bloody wanted. To eat what he wanted when he wanted, and to eat real takeaway, not prison shit.

His parents were at the Gold Coast, so he hadn’t had to explain anything to them. His old man had been bloody rude when he’d called to say he was getting out, so not seeing them suited him just fine.

The feeling of freedom when he stepped out of the jail a couple of weeks ago had been fucking awesome. He kept waiting for someone to pull him up. If someone yelled near him, he cringed, waiting for a baton to come down on his shoulder. It was a full week before the tension left his body, and to be honest, he was a bit worried about going back there to report to Russell. He knew his mate didn’t expect it, but Dean knew he owed him for the great new start Russell had set up for him. As long as they treated him like a visitor and not an inmate.

Russell was a bloody magician; he’d organised the ute and his new identity from the inside. The only thing Dean couldn’t figure out was if he could do that, why couldn’t he have got the same person to take care of the McLaren woman?

Anyway, it was none of his business, but he did want to go back and thank Russell and let him know once he’d done the job. And once she was dead, the money would hit his new bank account. With a bit of luck, he could get it all set up this afternoon. If he did the big doses in one hit, she’d cark it pretty quickly. He’d have to be very smart and try to figure out where to put it. He didn’t want to spend time checking out what she drank like Russell had told him to.

How the bloody hell could a worker on a property do that? He’d figure it out himself and cover all bases.

And then he’d tell Russell, say goodbye, and head off to the west. Easiest damn job he’d ever done. Just a shame that the woman wasn’t here by herself; he could have had a bit of fun with her. But Russell stressed it had to look like a natural death.

Life was bloody good. His first night on the outside as Jerry White had been spent at the pub and he'd got absolutely shitfaced. The second night he’d stayed half-sober and found himself a woman. Jerry White had the same tastes as Dean did. She had been the first trophy of his new life, and with his new name and fake ID, they’d never connect Jerry White to the recently released Dean Drummond. If he travelled around, he could take his fun wherever he wanted. They could look for Dean Drummond as long as they wanted, and they’d have no fucking luck. He didn’t exist anymore.

The problem was, he had to remember he was Jerry White these days. He’d stumbled over his name a couple of times when he was talking to blokes in the pub, but hey, it was cool. They’d been as pissed as he was so they wouldn’t remember anything either.

A flash of light glinted off a car turning out of the farm gate. Dean pulled his cap a little lower, slunk down in the seat and watched through narrowed eyes.

Good, they were turning this way which meant they were heading to Darwin. By the time the ute passed the parking bay, it was travelling at speed and he couldn’t turn his head so he didn’t couldn’t see how many people were in the vehicle.