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Authors: Scott Monk

Raw (13 page)

BOOK: Raw
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‘There they are!' Sam called out from the 4WD. ‘You're in a lot of trouble, young man,' he pointed at Frog.

Brett ignored him and pushed Robbie towards the vehicle. ‘Get in,' he said.

‘Ouch! Don't!'

‘Get in the car, Frog.'

The kid saw Brett's face and didn't have to be told a third time.

‘What's wrong?' Sam demanded.

‘Nothing,' Brett said. ‘Let's get out of here.'

‘Hey, lover boy! You and that brunette named your kids yet?' one of the guys bottle-feeding calves alongside Brett yelled out.

‘Yer, we saw you score last night and were wondering if she's got any friends?' another wiseguy added.

‘She does but they're all too good for you lot,' Brett shot back.

They all crowed at that one.

‘Hear that, guys? Dalton gets lucky and thinks he's too good for the rest of us trash.'

‘Yer, maybe we should trash
him
.'

‘At least I got lucky, Jamieson. You're going to be in a retirement home before you do — and that's only playing bingo!'

Everyone cracked up big-time. Except Jamieson,
of course. He got hot and flustered, trying to spit out a comeback, before throwing the milk bottle away and storming off.

‘Going to count how many grey hairs you've got, man?' a smart-mouth shouted.

The remaining guys laughed again until one of them elbowed Brett and urged him to turn round. He did so and felt his stomach flip. It was Sergeant Kenny in his 4WD. No doubt he was here to ask about the night before.

‘Sam,' Sergeant Kenny nodded, closing the 4WD's door behind him.

‘Kenny,' the old man replied. ‘How can I help you?'

‘I'd like to have a word with one of your boys if you don't mind.'

‘Which one?'

The cop glanced past Sam and pointed with his eyes. ‘Brett Dalton.'

‘Why? What's Brett done?'

‘That's what I want to find out,' Sergeant Kenny answered.

The cop and Sam turned towards Brett who tried to remain cool. The guys standing next to him, however, coughed before walking away to a safe distance within earshot. Brett waited until Sam and Sergeant Kenny stopped behind him.

‘Hello, Brett,' the cop said.

‘G'day.' Brett let the calf suck the last few drops from the milk bottle.

‘I'd like to ask you a few questions about last night.'

Brett flinched. ‘What about it?'

‘I'm interested in what happened just before we found you.'

‘I was looking for Robbie like you were.'

‘Were you with anyone?'

‘Nope.'

‘Did you meet up with anyone then while you were looking for Robbie?'

‘Yer. An old friend of mine. From Sydney.'

‘What's his name?'

‘It's a her.'

‘Okay, what's
her
name?'

‘Rebecca.'

‘Rebecca who?'

‘Rebecca Sharpe.'

Sergeant Kenny pulled a pad from his top pocket and flipped it open to check something written down.

‘What's this all about?' Brett asked.

‘Anyone else?'

‘No, but that doesn't answer my —'

‘You sure? It doesn't have to be a friend. It could be, say, a guy you met on the street.'

‘Well, there was this one guy —'

‘What guy?'

‘Just some guy.'

‘Describe him.'

‘I can't.'

‘You can't or you won't?'

Hello! A loaded question. The cop was trying to trap him. But Brett was smarter than that. ‘I can't,' he said. ‘It was dark. I couldn't see him clearly.'

‘How dark?'

‘What's this all about, Kenny?' Sam said, stepping in. About time. By the tone of the conversation, it sounded like Brett needed a lawyer.

The sergeant raised his hat to let the heat escape then lowered it again. ‘One of the rodeo riders says Brett assaulted him last night in the toilets.'

‘What?' Brett choked.

Sam silenced him with an outstretched hand. ‘When?'

‘Just before we spotted them,' the sergeant answered. ‘The man claims Brett and Robbie asked him for his wallet. When he wouldn't give it to them, they assaulted him.'

‘That's a lie!'

‘Brett.'

‘Well it is, Sam. The guy was hassling Frog and I stopped him.'

‘How did you stop him?' the sergeant asked.

Brett was about to tell Kenny but caught himself. He had to say this the right way or he could end up in jail for the night.

‘I grabbed Robbie and I guess I pushed the guy out of the way.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Yer, I'm sure. Why?'

‘Because the victim's face has got bruises all over it. It looks like someone punched him.'

‘Well I didn't do it,' Brett said. ‘The guy probably picked a fight with someone and lost.'

‘Who?'

‘I don't know. Anybody.'

The sergeant stared at Brett and waited to see if Brett was going to add anything more. When he didn't, the cop looked down at his notepad. ‘This Rebecca Sharpe. You said she's a friend of yours. What kind of friend?'

‘I don't know. Just a friend.'

‘Have you ever been romantically linked with her?'

‘What kind of question is that?' Brett asked.

‘Have you?'

Brett looked away and sighed. ‘Yer, but we broke up three weeks ago.'

‘Did you know she's going out with the guy you assaulted last night?'

‘Look, I didn't hit any guy last night, all right? I just pushed him out of the way because he was hassling Robbie. Ask Robbie if you don't believe me.'

‘Don't worry. I will.'

Which meant Brett was dead. Frog would crack when the cop started asking questions. And without any proof that the cowboy was selling drugs the night before, Brett's alibi would be useless. He'd be up for assault and his days here at The Farm would be finished. All because he thought he was doing something right.

‘I think you and me should go down to the station and talk some more,' the sergeant said.

‘Now wait a minute, Kenny —'

‘Sam, I'm sorry, but there's a man at the station with a busted jaw. I have to find out who's telling the truth. You can ride to the station with me and be Brett's legal guardian while I question him —'

‘He didn't do it,' a voice said from the stables. Brett, Sam, Sergeant Kenny and all the guys standing nearby twisted their heads to see who had spoken.
Josh fully pushed open the stable's wooden doors and showed himself.

‘And how do you know that?' Sergeant Kenny asked. The cop was more surprised than Brett.

‘I saw what happened. I found them before you, remember?'

‘But how long had you been there?'

‘Long enough.'

‘Okay then, you tell me what happened.'

‘It's just as Brett said. The guy was hassling Robbie when the guy became violent. Brett defended Robbie by pushing the guy out of the way.'

‘Why did he become violent? Was he provoked?'

‘No, he was drunk. He started picking on Frog and Brett tried to stop it.'

‘How drunk?'

‘Enough to be a problem.'

Kenny
hmm
ed and stared at Josh. Josh's sincerity must have paid off, however, because the cop believed him.

‘What did this guy look like?'

Josh glanced down at the dirt for a moment then looked straight at the sergeant. ‘I think he was tall and big, with black hair and a goatee. He looked like he was from the rodeo but I'm not sure about that. It was too dark to get a good look at him.'

‘Are you sure about the goatee?'

‘Yes. I don't know anybody round town with one.'

Sergeant Kenny thought about this for a moment and crossed his arms. ‘Very well then.' Turning back to Brett, he added, ‘You should've told me this last night.'

Brett mumbled, ‘I forgot,' then looked at his feet.

Sergeant Kenny stared at him a while longer but gave up when Brett wasn't going to say anything more. He closed his notepad and pocketed it again. ‘Sorry, Sam, to take up your time. I have to follow up these things though as you know.' He dipped his hat. ‘I'll see you round.'

Kenny hopped into the 4WD then drove off.

‘C'mon. Inside,' Sam said, waving his arms about to break up the crowd of rubberneckers. ‘It was just a misunderstanding, that's all.'

The guys reluctantly started filing back through the doors into The House leaving just Brett and Josh outside. They looked at each other, not saying anything; realising they'd lied to a cop. But most importantly they both knew Josh had done something neither of them would have thought possible: he'd saved Brett from being sent to jail.

A bad mood hung in The Boys' House that night like the forbidden smell of a burning reefer. The whole Farm had been grounded for two weeks because of what had happened at the rodeo. The missing pair — Darren and Paul — had been found breaking into a car by the cops and were being sent back to Sydney in two days to face a magistrate. Three other inmates had been busted drinking coldies behind a horse trailer. And Sam was convinced there had been more to the fight between Brett and Smiling Joe than what he'd heard.

On top of that, Frog had been grounded an extra two weeks for leaving the rodeo without supervision. He was lucky not to be joining Darren and Paul. The old man grilled the kid about what had happened but Frog kept looking at the ground, mumbling that
he couldn't remember. Sam eventually gave up but not before a twenty minute lecture. It spooked the kid so much, he disappeared into his dorm and hadn't been seen since.

So without someone to muck round with, Brett got up to do some exploring. He passed a couple of guys in the corridor whispering in low tones about how one of their mates on the outside had been jailed. At least they weren't talking about
him
for once. Brett turned the corner and saw another group huddled on one side. It was Tyson, his thugs and the kid called Wayne Jamieson. With a sleight of hand, Tyson palmed a plastic bag to Jamieson, who in turn greased the big inmate's hand with cash. Brett shook his head. Even in here, he couldn't escape it.

The red-haired thug elbowed his boss. Both buyer and seller looked up and quickly ended the transaction. Jamieson shot out of there while Tyson slouched coolly against the wall.

‘Heard you bagged yourself a broad last night, Pretty Boy,' the big inmate called out. ‘I didn't think you liked girls.'

Brett pulled up short. ‘I think you've got me mixed up with you and your friends,' he said, before walking on.

‘Not so fast,' Tyson said, slapping a powerful hand
on Brett's shoulder. Brett tried pushing the hand off, but the other two thugs tackled him and threw him against the wall. Brett fought back but as in the past they were too strong for him. ‘You must be the dumbest punk in this place, Pretty Boy. I've given you so many chances to save yourself but you just have to be a tough guy, don't you? Huh? Well, not this time. Boys, how about if we take dunny-brush-head here and flush him down a couple of toilets —'

‘Leave him alone!'

Tyson, his thugs and Brett looked behind them. It didn't sound like Sam at all.

‘You heard me: leave him alone,' Josh repeated, standing outside his bedroom door, arms crossed.

‘This ain't none of your business, Collins,' Tyson said.

‘It is now.'

The thugs looked at each other then their boss. Tyson stretched to his full height and leered down at Josh. But Josh didn't flinch. He breathed in and stood a fraction taller.

Eventually, Tyson growled and turned away. ‘Let him go,' he ordered.

‘What?' the redhead asked.

‘I said let him go!'

Tyson angrily threw him aside then pushed him
up the corridor to make him leave. But the big inmate stopped before joining him. ‘We're even,' he snarled at Josh. Then, turning to Brett, he added, ‘As for you, Pretty Boy, I'd sleep with my eyes open from now on if I was you.'

Brett rubbed his sore neck as he watched them leave. When they finally did, he turned to Josh but found that he'd disappeared back into his room.

‘Yer?' came the half-hearted reply when Brett knocked on the door.

He pushed it open. ‘Er, g'day. Can I come in?'

‘If you want to.' Josh closed the book he was reading.

Brett walked inside, looking round at the shelves, floors and at Josh's desk. The room hadn't changed much since he had seen it on his first day. A few pieces of furniture had been moved and the dirty clothes were gone but it was still the same old dorm.

‘I waited until you were in your room this time,' Brett joked weakly.

Josh smiled flatly. ‘You want a seat?'

He pointed to a chair and Brett sat down. ‘Thanks.' Then, still avoiding eye contact, asked, ‘What are you reading?'

‘A biology textbook.'

‘Why? You planning on being a biologist?'

‘No, a doctor or a sports physiotherapist. Whatever I can get into at uni.'

Brett nodded. He looked round the room again, deciding on what to say before finally finding the courage. ‘Hey, um, thanks for, you know —'

‘That's okay,' Josh shrugged. ‘You were all making too much noise anyway. I just wanted you to go away so as I could study.'

‘You two don't like each other do you?'

‘No. He uses his size to intimidate people. Plus, he shouldn't be here. Sam's giving him an opportunity to change his life, but he's not interested. I don't like people like that.'

‘What did Tyson mean by “We're even”?'

‘Nothing I can tell you about. Just say I've got enough dirt ready to shovel on him if he messes with me.'

‘What kind of dirt?'

‘Dirt that could get him locked up for a long time.'

Brett nodded. He could only imagine what that could be.

‘So, what did you think of the rodeo?' Josh asked, trying to change the subject.

‘Yer, it was pretty good — what I saw of it.'

Josh half-smiled. ‘You looked like you were enjoying it.'

‘Did I?'

‘Well, you and Cait were talking to each other for a while.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?' Brett asked angrily.

Josh raised his hands. ‘Nothing. I just thought you and her might like each other. Sorry I mentioned it.'

‘Well, we don't,' Brett said. ‘We're just friends. She reckoned I needed some company so I let her sit next to me.' But he was curious. ‘Why? What have you heard?'

‘I haven't heard anything. She and you looked pretty friendly last night that's all. She seemed to be having as good a time as you.'

‘Really? You think so?'

Josh nodded. ‘Take it from me, she was.'

‘How do you know?'

‘I watched you guys for a while. I could tell. Cait was smiling all the time. I can ask her if you like. Sam and I have to drop off at the store late tomorrow to buy some food.'

‘No! Don't! I believe you.'

The room settled into silence as Brett looked round the bedroom again and Josh out the window. ‘She's quite attractive, isn't she?'

‘Who?' Brett asked. ‘Caitlyn?'

Josh snorted. ‘Is there anyone else?'

His face growing hot, Brett looked at Josh and asked, ‘Why? D'you like her, do you?'

Josh grinned and Brett wondered what was so funny. Josh got up and pulled a photo album from the shelves before showing it to him. ‘You don't have to worry. I'm not moving in on Caitlyn. Look. I've already had my chance.'

Brett sat there stunned as Josh showed him page after page of photos. In them, a younger Josh hugged, laughed with and even kissed a younger Caitlyn! They were about fourteen with wacky hairdos and bad clothes. Josh must have been embarrassed at the last few pictures because he quickly shut the album and put it away again.

‘She hasn't told you has she?'

‘No,' Brett said. ‘I didn't know so I didn't ask. I was more worried that you were interested in her now.'

Josh smiled painfully.

‘Why'd you break up then?'

Josh shrugged. ‘A couple of reasons, I suppose. We were pretty young and we didn't know what we were doing. Plus there was her parents —'

‘You had troubles with them too, did you?'

‘Plenty. They don't like Caitlyn delivering supplies here let alone dating one of the guys.'

‘So what did you do? You know, to see her and stuff.'

‘I used to get the guys to cover for me and nick off on weekends.'

‘You?' Brett snorted. ‘That doesn't sound like you!'

‘Yes, well, there's a lot of things you don't know about me.'

Brett agreed. Like why Josh had been sent here, why he'd stayed on and if he still liked Caitlyn.

‘Do you — you know — ever think you might both —'

‘No,' Josh said. ‘She's yours. Like I said, I've had my chance. I hope you do better.'

Brett smiled slowly as he realised what that meant. Josh shelved the biology textbook then sat down again on his bed.

‘Are they your brothers?' Brett asked for want of a topic, pointing at another photo.

‘These guys? No. They're my footy mates.'

‘You got any pictures of your family? I mean —'

‘Man, what a day,' Josh yawned loudly.

‘Tell me about it,' Brett said, confused.

‘Is that why you're here?'

‘Yer. How'd you know?'

‘It'd be either that or that you were looking for tissues again.'

Brett half-grinned. ‘Thanks for that.'

‘For what?'

‘Sticking up for me.'

‘I didn't stick up for you. I just helped you out.'

‘That's sticking up for me. I just don't understand why.'

Josh looked to the open door. Brett got the hint and shut it.

‘I didn't lie but I didn't tell the whole truth either,' Josh said. ‘Smiling Joe
was
drunk and he
was
hassling Frog. I also know you didn't push him but hit him out of self-defence.'

‘That's because he threw the first punch.'

‘I know. I saw that. I was only there for a second but I know Smiling Joe definitely started the fight.'

‘Then how do you know what happened before?'

‘I asked Frog this morning.'

‘What did he say?'

‘He told me about the drugs.'

‘That Smiling Joe tried to sell him some?'

‘Yes, and that you stopped him buying any.'

‘Do you believe him?'

‘Of course. Why shouldn't I?'

‘No, he's right. The cowboy must've followed him into town or saw him coming. I don't know. Whatever, when I showed up Joe got all angry and started saying he wasn't going to let Frog go. I was more worried about the kid's safety than mine.'

‘And that's when the fighting started?'

‘Yeah. If Joe wasn't drunk … man, I don't think we would've got out of there. That guy's big.'

They reflected on this for a minute before Mary shouted ‘Lights out!' down the hallway.

Brett looked back at Josh and asked, ‘But that still doesn't answer my question: why'd you cover for me today? I don't get it. You had the perfect opportunity to get me kicked off The Farm.'

‘I don't want to see you get “kicked off”. We've had our run-ins but I don't want to see you go to jail. As for why: I guess because I think what you did was right. I care about Frog too. I would've done the same thing. Except I don't have as good a right swing as you —'

‘I don't know about that,' Brett grinned, a painful memory numbing his jaw.

Mary called ‘Lights out!' for the last time and Brett stood up to return to his room.

‘Well, I'll see you in the morning,' he said.

‘Brett,' Josh called out, just as Brett opened the door. ‘Now answer my question: why'd you step in to stop Smiling Joe selling the drugs in the first place?'

His back to the stablehand, Brett looked at the roof and sighed. ‘Experience.'

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