Dead Heat Read Free

the car was already beginning to float. Slowly, the vehicle’s hood swung
     downriver and within five yards had jammed itself against something underwater. The engine stalled and water rushed through
     the open windows.
    Georgia raced to her car to look for a tow rope, but all the Suzuki had was a standard jack and spare tire. No ropes, no straps,
     no winch, no high-lift jack.
    She turned to see the driver, a tall guy in jeans and sweatshirt, slide quickly through the car window and drop into the creek.
     The water came up to his thighs. He waded around the sedan and helped his woman passenger open her door against the current
     and climb out. The woman had to cling on to her companion to avoid being swept away. When she glanced up, even though she
     was yards away, Georgia could see the relief on her face. Relief she hadn’t been swept four miles downriver and into the Coral
     Sea.
    It didn’t take the couple long to grab their belongings from the trunk. The man had only a small bag, one of those standard
     black ones that carry laptop computers, the woman a pint-size backpack and a sodden, new-looking leather fanny pack on her
     hips.
    Georgia slid down the bank and reached out to the woman, who put her hand in hers and let herself be hauled out of the river.
     Her fingers felt fragile and tiny as mouse bones in Georgia’s clasp, her body light as a child’s. She was spattered with mud
     and soaked to the waist, but she was grinning when Georgia swung her clear of the bank and onto firm ground. The man came
     up behind her.
    “You’re brilliant,” the woman said, wiping rain from her cheeks. She was Chinese, and her face had the delicate prettiness
     of a young girl, but Georgia reckoned she was more her own age, late twenties. “Thanks so much for helping us.”
    The man stepped forward. Water streamed from his thick black hair and down his face but he made no attempt to brush it away.
     “We’ve a flight to catch,” he said, voice curt. No thank-you from him or attempt at small talk. “You okay to take us to SunAir?
     Nulgarra’s aerodrome?”
    Oh hell, she thought, I hope they’re not on Bri’s flight or there may not be room for me. Glumly, she said, “That’s where
     I’m going.”
    “Thank you, God,” said the woman, looking into the sky and exhaling hard. “You’re doing great so far. Keep it up.”
    They introduced themselves. The man, Lee Denham, took the front seat while Suzie Wilson squeezed into the back. Lee must have
     been thirty, at most. His skin was the color of cashew nuts, and close up she was sure he was mixed-race Chinese. He had a
     pale scar running up through one eyebrow, another on the edge of his jaw, and she could see the puckered ridge of a larger
     scar running up the side of his neck into the hair behind his ear. More scars on his knuckles. Wounds like a fighting dog
     might have, she thought warily. Strong jaw, narrow nose, and a wide mouth she couldn’t imagine ever smiling. His features
     resembled a rock face. His body looked like rock too, broad shoulders and a narrow waist; the build of a triathlete.
    If Bridie had been there she’d have been matchmaking like mad, asking him what he did, how much he earned, if he wanted children,
     but all Georgia said was, “Where are you flying to?”
    “Cairns,” Lee said, and Georgia’s spirits sank. She just had to hope the third person who’d been booked to fly south with
     Bri couldn’t make it.
    “And from there?” she asked, wondering if they were on the same connecting flight to Sydney, but Lee just shrugged. Not much
     of a talker, old Scar Face.
    Suzie leaned between them, voice bright with curiosity. “Are you English?” she asked Georgia.
    “I’m Australian,” she said on a sigh. “Have been for twenty years.”
    “You sound English.”
    “So I’m told.” Georgia turned to Lee. “What about your car?”
    Another shrug. “It’s a rental.”
    “Do you want to borrow my mobile? Tell them what’s