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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] luck until he d gotten shotafter he d left the SAS. He also had a quiet knack for getting to the truth of things in civilian life& eventually. Carter set steaming mugs in front of West and his wife, Tyler, grabbed the sugar bowl on the way back to the table, hooked out a chair with his foot and sat down. He didn t miss the speculative silence. Slow seconds ticked by while he stirred sugar into his tea. When he lifted his head, West was once again examining the view. Resigned, Carter set his mug down. And? West s expression didn t change. And what? Carter s jaw tightened, a nerve in his cheek began to twitch. Ever since he d gotten home, he d had to keep a tight rein on his temper; right now, on a scale of one to ten he was at about eight and he was deteriorating fast. As far as he was concerned, talking about relationship problems was about as pleasurable as pulling teeth. It was also a known fact that West as a confidant was close to useless. On the other hand Danihad been his neighbour for eighteen years and he d been dangling on a string for just about that long. He shrugged. Any suggestions? Nope. Carter let out a breath. Tyler lifted an eyebrow. What did you expect? If he s a love doctor then so is the sphinx. The silence that followed Tyler s statement was profound. Carter kept his expression carefully blank as he settled back in his chair. Time for a change of subject. West s lack of relationship skills had always been a sore point with Tyler. The couple were happy now, but it had taken West eight years to admit he had a problem with emotion, let alone make a start on patching up his marriage. Carter eyed West s Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html briefcase. So, whathave you got for me? A whole lot I didn t expect to find. West flipped the locks and pulled out a sheet of paper. He slid the page across to Carter. Do those names mean anything to you? Amongst the list, Carter recognized the name of a prominent New Zealand businessman, Alex Bainbridge a big hitter on the local stock market and the name of a local farmer, Dave, who managed a large station on the other side of town. A third name, Jordan Carlisle, tantalized. West sat back in his chair. It s a complicated trail, but I eventually found the links. Bainbridge is a director of Jackson s Bay Holdings the company that owns the large station McLean manages. Jackson s Bay Holdings, through a subsidiary company, is also the major shareholder in the ostrich facility. Carlisle is a financier who s been tied up with Bainbridge for years. The ostrich farm itself is a lemon and the largest beneficiary of the losses are Bainbridge and Carlisle. In fact I wouldn t be surprised to learn that they own the other company that has a small holding in it, because the facility is operated purely as a taxable write-off not nice, but legitimate. The interesting thing is that the ostrich facility is on a prime piece of real estate close to the beach and the town. I pulled a few strings and got a look at the syndicate s first-stage development plans for the Jackson s Bay resort. The main resort buildings are sited on the land presently occupied by the ostrich facility. To complicate matters, Bainbridge is on the board of directors of the bank the syndicate are using to finance their development. As it happens, that s Jackson s Ridge s only bank. Carter sat back in his chair. He was beginning to feel happier. And they ve been folding on mortgages. You ve got it. West slotted the pages in his suitcase with the same casual precision Carter knew he would use to bury Bainbridge and Carlisle and possibly Wells. The links I ve uncovered are enough to stop the resort project. On another level entirely. Carter pulled a device that looked like a remote control from his pocket and placed it on the table. He pressed a button; the liquid-crystal screen glowed. I borrowed it from the local vet. It s a microchip scanner. A lot of pedigree dog owners are using them, but apparently that s also how you identify your bird, by the number encoded into the microchip embedded in its neck. West set his mug down. Should be interesting. West held the rear passenger door of Carter s truck open for Tyler and the dog that had adopted them a lean streak of huntaway called Zoom. Zoom settled in beside Tyler, head erect, gaze focused on the windscreen, almost more human than dog. As West closed the door, he caught another glimpse of red hair and long tanned legs through the trees that separated the Galbraith and Rawlings houses. How long did you say you ve been living next door to Dani? Like I said, forever. Eighteen years. West shook his head. And you gave me a hard time. Dani slid into the driver s seat of the truck and turned the key in the ignition. The motor turned over then died. Muttering a brief prayer, she held her breath, pumped the accelerator and turned the key again. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html This time the only sound was a click. Gritting her teeth, she slid out of the driver s seat. Like the tractor, she d been babying the truck for weeks. It was due for a service and its six-monthly warrant of fitness. She could do without the service, because she d changed the oil and the filters herself, but at present it was in no state to pass the warrant. One of the rear brake lights was gone and two of the tires were close to bald, although in this case [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |