He slammed a hand over his eyes before dropping his hand and looking at me. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to say and had no idea why he was giving in. “Argh, take a damn sausage, then. In fact, take two. There’s some in my fridge.” He waved towards the door.

  I didn’t want to celebrate my win, but I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. Carina was beaming, and even Finn, despite himself, reluctantly smiled. “Thank you! Thank you!” I didn’t mind elbowing human scum in the face, but I drew the line at animals. Obviously if it was a me-or-them scenario, I would save myself, but I would hate myself for it afterwards.

  I jumped up and went to his kitchen, which I’d seen last time as well. It was modern, with dark timber-looking cupboards, white-marble benchtops, a gas stove, and two wall ovens. Did he cook, or was this just for looks?

  I went to the black double-door fridge and opened the right-hand-side door. The middle shelf held a tub of butter, cheese, eggs, and a plate of four sausages. I grabbed two and wrapped them in the plastic wrap that covered the plate. Lazy, I knew, but I didn’t want to hunt around his kitchen for more plastic wrap. I hurried back to the living room and put the puppy snacks in the front zip-up up section by itself.

  As I lowered my bum onto the armchair, Finn looked at me. “Come and sit here so you can see the screen. I have a plan.”

  “Cool.” I got up and sat next to him, making sure there was enough gap that we weren’t touching, even though I just wanted to snuggle into his side. I was so worried he’d know I was attracted to him that I was going out of my way to ensure he didn’t. It was for my own good. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “You’re in luck.” Carina pointed to a fence line next to a road. “You can park here—it’s about a quarter mile east of the driveway.”

  Finn pointed at the screen. “See this here? It’s the boundary between Donigal’s and Killeen’s farms. And if you notice”—he moved the map down on the screen to reveal more of the northern area—“the mound your friend talks about is roughly four hundred feet from that boundary. But since it’s all the way up here, we’re going to have to navigate roughly half a mile of uneven ground on an incline. It’s going to be slow-going.”

  “Should take you about fifteen minutes. You’ll have to cut through the fence along the road, then two other fences along the way.” Carina looked at Finn. “Doesn’t seem too bad.”

  “As well as horses, they have a few cows and some sheep, too, don’t they?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Finn looked at me. “Why?”

  “I don’t want them getting out and getting killed. We have to fix the fence along the road before we leave. Okay?”

  He stared at me for a moment, a blank look on his face. Resignation edged into his gaze. “Yes, of course. I should’ve thought of that. I’ll add some plyers to my kit. I have a couple of blocks of wood in the shed. I’ll hammer some nails in them, and we can twist the wire around that. It’s the best I can do because I don’t have fence wire handy, and it has to hold.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled. We were already breaking the law by trespassing, and I didn’t want to do any more damage than we absolutely had to.

  “So, Avery, you clear on what we’re doing?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Good. I’ll go sort the wood. Be back in five.” Finn left, taking his solid warmth with him.

  Carina and I chatted until he got back. When he walked into the room, he carried his knapsack, which was also black like mine. He also held a shovel. My heart rate picked up, and it wasn’t because of my Finnegan crush. We were really doing this. Trespassing to search for a dead body. I swallowed and stood. “I guess it’s time to go.” I looked at Carina. “I’ll call you when we get there and text when we’re through the first fence. After that, I’ll text when we find something. If you haven’t heard from me thirty minutes after the first text, text me. If I don’t answer, try calling. If that fails, call the police.”

  She gave a firm nod. “Consider it done.” Carina stood and gave me a hug. That was unexpected. “Be careful.”

  “We will. We’ll be fine now we have sausages.” I winked.

  Carina giggled. “Wield your sausages well, fair maiden.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I’m an expert with sausages. Fear not.” I snorted. Finn shook his head and laughed. We all said a final goodbye, and I followed Finn outside and down the laneway to his car.

  We got in, and neither of us said anything until he had his blinker on to turn right on the main road. “How you feeling?” he asked.

  “Nervous… worried… excited that we’re about to do something to potentially help Alfie. If I’m honest, sneaking around in the dark is kind of fun… at least the idea of it is. Getting caught won’t be.”

  His tone was all calm determination. “We won’t get caught. The only way someone will know we’ve been there is if we come across a dead body and we call Bellamy.” He glanced at me. “Thanks again for doing this. Alfie’s struggling. If he kills himself, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  I would’ve explained that it wouldn’t be his fault, but really, there wasn’t much to say that could stop his worry. The only thing that would do that was finding the body and being able to prove Alfie was innocent. If Alfie had done it, well, that was something Finn would have to come to terms with. Life was cruel like that. There was some pain we couldn’t save ourselves or others from. “Any time. You know I can’t pass up a good story or a challenging mystery.” Which reminded me—I still hadn’t written the dating story. Argh. I was my own worst enemy. I’d get it done tomorrow.

  After that, we were quiet for the entire drive. His navigation app told us to pull over—and there it was, the Donigal’s closed front gate. Finn looked at the thing on the dash that counted the miles—okay, so I didn’t know what it was called, so sue me. When it clicked over the quarter mile, he pulled onto the grass at the side of the road. Luckily there was enough room for his car to fit.

  We got out, and I looked up. The cloud was patchy, and the moon about three-quarters full. “Some light, which is good. Means we won’t have obvious torchlights bobbing through the field.” I breathed out in relief—it also meant we should avoid any storms. If one ambushed us, Finn would be left trying to wrangle a panicking mess. Anger warmed my stomach—I hated being beholden to my PTSD. It was frustrating and embarrassing. Would I ever be free of it?

  Finn lifted his shovel out of the boot, then locked the car. I took my torch out of my bag—in case I had to hit something—and made sure my phone was easily accessible in my back jeans pocket. I put my backpack on—extra protection from behind if the dog jumped on me. “Ready to roll?” he asked, his voice quiet and full of tension.

  “As I’ll ever be. That body won’t find itself, so let’s go.”

  He chuckled, which brought the stress level down a couple of notches. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.” He pulled the bolt cutters out of his bag, and we went to the fence. Within a minute, he had the top three wires cut, which left only two lower ones that were easy to step over. He grabbed a piece of timber with the nails out of his bag and attached it to the second-top wire. “That should hold if any livestock come this way.” He turned and looked up the hill. “If I’ve read the map right, Killeen’s property is just over there.” He pointed to our right. “So we need to head up the hill. I’ve set my GPS tracker, so we know how far we’ve walked, and I’ve started us slightly west of where I think the mound will be. That way, we can slowly move towards the fence when we get to the general vicinity. We don’t want to be going back and forth because we’ll be more likely to miss it.”

  I texted Carina and put my phone back in my pocket. “Okay. Lead the way.”

  As we walked, every now and then, he checked his phone, and I wiped sweat off my brow. The night wasn’t super hot, but it was still probably twenty degrees Celsius, and with the incline and long sleeves and jeans, it was toasty. After five minutes, I asked, “How far have we gone?”

  “Oh, I’m not checking that. I’m using a compass to make sure we don’t go off our line. It would be easy to drift one way or the other.”

  “Fair enough.” There was more to this wandering around in a field at night-time than I thought. I listened intently for noises that indicated vicious dogs, people with shotguns, or raging bulls. So far, the only sounds were frogs and the occasional owl hoot. When we reached the second fence, Finn used the bolt cutters, and we quickly continued.

  My foot wonked into a hole. I twisted my ankle and stumbled forward, trying not to fall. Pain shot through my ankle and foot. “Ow!” I slammed my hand over my mouth. Possum poo. Was I trying to get found out?

  Finn stopped and whispered, “Are you okay?”

  I breathed for a moment, assessing. Placing my foot down gingerly, I carefully leaned on it till it took my full weight. I was such a clumsy idiot. “I think I’m fine. Nothing’s sprained, just a dull ache. Sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

  He looked at me. “Um, I’m not having a go at you. Just don’t break anything. I forgot to bring a sled.” He chuckled.

  I smiled despite myself. If I ever hurt myself in front of my family or Brad, they’d tell me I was clumsy, stupid, or careless followed by a lecture. Apparently, I was taking up the mantle for them and repeating their criticisms to myself. I needed to work on stopping that. “We’ll have to remember one next time.”

  “Are you good to keep going?” He looked at his phone, shielding the screen from the position of the house, which, if my sense of direction was right, was to the west of us. “We don’t have far to go. Maybe a couple of minutes.”

  I took a couple of steps. “Yep, all good.” The clouds had cleared even more, and stars glittered across the vast darkness as we travelled the final few minutes to begin the proper search. Finn surged ahead of me, then stopped. When I reached him and the waist-high pile of firewood he stood next to, he said, “This is it. This is where we start. We’ll make our way in that direction. Maybe we should stay about twenty feet apart. Then we’ll miss less but still cover the ground we need to. We’ll walk all the way to the boundary, then move west again and walk back to be in line with this pile. Pretty handy spot for it, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Maybe they want to burn the body eventually, or maybe they sometimes have bonfires out here, or maybe it was a tree near this spot, and they couldn’t be bothered moving the wood?”

  “What, only three suggestions, Lightning?” He chuckled.

  “Ha, very funny. Sorry, my brain goes a million miles an hour sometimes. Right, so, let’s start.” I hoped it didn’t take long because the longer it took, the more likely we’d be discovered. Although that was me just being paranoid. The house was so far away that no one in there could hear us, let alone see us.

  Finn walked a few lengths away, then turned to the east. I copied him. As we walked slowly, we both looked left and right, scanning our immediate surroundings for what I figured would be a low mound. The grass swished against my legs. I strained my eyes trying to pick things out in the dimness. The moonlight was better than what I expected, but it wasn’t super bright. If it got any darker, we’d have to use our torches.

  As we neared the fence line, I walked into a cold patch of air. It puckered my skin, just like when ghosts were around. I sucked in a breath and gripped my torch handle tighter. Stopping, I gazed around. “Donigal, are you here?” I whispered. Finn looked towards me—he would’ve heard me say something. I spoke in a whisper-hiss. “I’m just talking to myself.” He nodded. I wasn’t worried because it was something you could say out loud and not really mean, like when you look for your sunglasses and say, “Where are you?”

  I looked to my right and ahead, then inched my head forward and squinted. One thing I hadn’t counted on was because the grass was long, it obscured things close to the ground. I thought I could see a bare patch of raised dirt, but I wasn’t sure if it was my eyes making it up out of shadows in the darkness. I pulled my torch out and walked closer.

  The temperature dropped further. Yikes. I held my breath and listened as I neared. It was the kind of moment you expected zombies to start jumping out of the ground.

  I clicked my torch on, the noise echoing in the dead quiet.

  My steps were measured and careful as I approached what was clearly fresh dirt in the midst of long grass now more light shone. I was about to call to Finn, but his footsteps sounded behind me. By the time I reached the human-sized hump, he was next to me. We looked at each other. My heart galloped, and I swallowed. We were potentially about to dig up a dead, rotting body. It wasn’t going to be pretty.

  I whispered, “I think we dig just enough to confirm it’s a body, like till we find a hand or leg or whatever, then we call Bellamy. We don’t need to see or smell it.”

  “But what if it’s not Donigal? Don’t you want to confirm?”

  “Okay, we can do enough to see the face, but I’m warning you, it’s going to be beyond gross. I don’t even know how this stuff works, but he might have maggots or worms all over him. His face might be bloated so we can’t even recognise him.” I really didn’t want to be here longer than we had to be, and even though I was cool with all the afterlife stuff now, seeing a rotting face would surely give me nightmares.

  He walked to one end of the long mound. “I’ll start here.” He took his backpack off and fished around in it, then held something out. “Here. You can start at the other end.” He handed me a trowel.

  “Ah, thanks, I guess.” I turned my torch off—no point drawing people to us. There was enough light to dig by. I called Carina and filled her in on the situation, and she wished us luck. “I’ll call you back as soon as I know more. If I don’t call in thirty minutes, call me. This shouldn’t take that long.”

  “Will do, Avery.”

  I hung up. Then Finn and I put on our gloves and got to work.

  Kneeling on the ground, I stuck the trowel into the soil, and my stomach clenched. I wasn’t looking forward to the end of it hitting flesh. Ew. How in hades did I ever think this was a good idea? Maybe next time I came up with a brilliant scheme, I should just ignore myself. Up to this point, my decision-making skills hadn’t exactly been overly beneficial to me. Maybe I should just run everything by Meg from now on.

  The scent of freshly turned soil and cow dung overwhelmed the still air. A breeze would’ve been nice about now. The crisp chck of Finn’s shovel strokes cutting into the earth gave me a rhythm to work to. It was better to focus on that than what potentially lay underneath.

  Which one of us would make the discovery? My money was on Finn since he was working with a bigger implement.

  Chck, thud.

  I gasped and looked across at a frozen Finn. His wide eyes met mine. “At the risk of stating the obvious—I just hit something solid yet… soft.”

  I shuddered. He was still staring at me. I scrunched my face. “You want me to come over there and help, I suppose?” Please say no. Please say no.

  “Yes, please. I didn’t think it would be so hard, but… I’m rethinking our decision.”

  “Welcome to the club.” I stood. “We’re not doing this for us, though. Alfie will hopefully appreciate this when he finds out, and so will Donigal’s wife and son. At least they’ll know for sure.”

  “If this even is Donigal.”

  “We’ll cross that crocodile-infested creek when we come to it.” I went to his side before I lost my nerve. At least I had long sleeves to cover my nose and mouth. I knelt, and with one arm covering the lower half of my face, I trowelled away the dirt in the area his shovel had struck. After a minute, enough soil fell away to reveal dark plastic. I poked at it with my trowel. “Yep, soft and a bit squishy.” I gagged. A rancid odour seeped around me. I quickly scrambled to my feet to get away from it. “The shape looks head-like. I think you should do the reveal—you knew him better than me. As much as this is gross, I’m going to take a picture so we can confirm by looking at that rather than by crouching over the stinky body.” I chucked my trowel on the ground. We’d forgotten to bring paper or plastic to wrap things in. I was not putting that trowel back in my bag.

  He stared at the plastic I’d just revealed, horror on his face. “I don’t want to do this. Maybe you’re right—we should just call Bellamy now.”

  I gave him a look as I took my gloves off and put them on the ground. “We’re doing this. All or nothing. Come on.” I got the camera app up on my phone, ready for a pic, and I grabbed my torch, turned it on, and pointed it at the shape. “Let’s just get it over and done with, and don’t breathe in while you’re down there, or you’ll regret it.”

  His gaze moved to mine. Poor Finn. There was zero enthusiasm in his voice when he said, “Okay. Argh. Here I go.” He sucked in a breath, held it, and knelt. He fumbled with the plastic long enough that he turned his head, took another breath, and kept going. After tugging and grunting—the plastic must’ve been thick—he ripped open a section. He stumbled back and fell on his bum. “Oh, Jesus. This is bad.” He shuffled backwards on his bottom while I held my breath and stepped closer.

  He wasn’t wrong. As my torch shone on the ghastly, sallow face, I snapped a photo, then turned, narrowly avoiding Finn, and threw up.

  We both moved away from the body, and I sent Carina a text saying we found the body. “Is it him? I think it looks like him, from what I can remember.” I slid my phone into my back pocket and turned the torch off.

  “Yes, I think it is too.” Finn gagged but didn’t vomit. “I’ll call Bellamy.”

  Donigal’s ghost appeared next to his grave, and I started. “They’re coming. Get out of here, now!” What? “Hurry!” Oh, poop on stick. I listened intently for other people. A faint noise came from just over the rise, from towards the house.

  “Finn, we have to get out of here now. Someone’s coming.”

  “What?”

  “Hurry, young lady. They’ll kill you.” Donigal jerked his head to look towards the house, then disappeared.

 

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