Chapter 3

An hour later, Constable Joanna Parris was back at the secluded farmhouse.

As usual, Old Quarry Road had been deserted. Joanna actually hadn’t seen another car since leaving the outskirts of Mount Thomas. Thanks to both Maggie and Robyn, she had a good idea where she was – the Djerriwarrh Aboriginal Settlement was some three kilometres further along Old Quarry Road and the Mount Thomas National Park off to the North. Once again, she had been careful negotiating the dirt road that served as Savannah’s driveway.

What played on her mind though, was not the rough dirt track. Nor was it the swirling dust that once again engulfed her Holden ‘Commodore’ – the twenty-five year old brunette could feel her ‘pussy’ moistening. It ached. But, what had concerned her, were Sergeant Tess Gallagher’s ;last words,

“You take care, Joanna – don’t do anything stupid?” the older policewoman had advised her,

“Savannah Hamilton-Smythe could eat you for breakfast, is you let her, Constable Parrish...?”

Teresa Annette Gallagher hadn’t actually said anything. Not even a subtle hint.

But, had the blonde Divorcee been here too...?

What about Senior Constable Robyn Taylor – Senior Constable Maggie Doyle too?

‘Probationary’ Constable Deirdre ‘Dash’ McKinley...? After all, she was a Local, wasn’t she...

Senior Constable Rochelle de la Rue and ‘Acting’ Sergeant Lindy Schroeder...?

‘Acting’ Inspector Monica Draper?

Why did she now believe that they all knew something more than they were saying? Or were they...?

Switching her ignition off, the brunette policewoman now found herself greeted by Savannah’s old dog. Tail wagging, it walked slowly towards Joanna as she got out of her police car. There was however, no sign of Savannah...?

“Hello...?” Joanna called. There was no reply.

Reaching back into the police car, she retrieved her policewoman’s uniform hat and issue handbag.

The cattle dog sniffed about her feet...

“Hello...?”

“Savannah...?” the policewoman called after a moment’s hesitation,

“Anybody home...?” Joanna asked – the old doh began to sniff about her Holden ‘Commodore’...

“Miss Hamilton-Smythe?”

Several colourful lorikeets chirped and chatted away in the nearby gum tree.

But otherwise, there was no other reply.

“Hello...?” Joanna shouted again. The blue heeler sat at her feet and waited for a pat.

“So, where’s Savannah then...?” the policewoman asked, kneeling to gently pat the dog.

After patting the dog for a minute or so, Joanna stood up. She cleared her throat...

“S-Savannah?”

Hesitating, she closed her car door and then brushed the dusty from her uniform shirt,

Savannah’s old Toyota ‘Landcruiser’ was still in situ.

“Well now...?”

Joanna walked towards the old farmhouse.

The cattle dog followed behind. Tail wagging.

“What do we do now, Joanna?” the policewoman wondered aloud.

She ascended the two steps onto the front veranda...

“Hello there...?”

The front door was open,

“Savannah...?”

Joanna knocked on the veranda post before glancing inside.

The wooden veranda deck creaked but there was still no sign of Savannah.

The policewoman turned and glanced across at the pile of firewood.

Savannah’s dog lay back down in her favourite spot by the door.

Joanna paused, listening intently. The flock of lorikeets continued their noisy chatter.

Raising her right hand, she tugged at the collar of her short-sleeved uniform shirt,

“Well, first things first...?” she whispered to herself, leaving the cattle dog snoozing by the front door.

There was no sign of Savannah...?

Alone with her thoughts once again, Joanna descended the steps.

She let her policewoman’s handbag slip from her shoulder. Pausing again, she looked back at Savannah’s open front door – she caught a hint of Givenchy Amirage in the air.

“Miss Hamilton-Smythe?”

Turning, she shouldered her issue handbag once again.

Placing her policewoman’s uniform m hat on her head, she wandered to the side of the seemingly deserted farmhouse. Joanna would make the most of the opportunity that now presented itself.

She would take a long look at the woman’s vegetable garden without Savannah being any the wiser...

“What she don’t know can’t hurt her...?” she assured herself, making her way out to Savannah’s vegetable garden again,

“Where there’s smoke, there must be fire?”

“ ... Tom Croydon must suspect there’s something going on here?”

Not that she hadn’t completely forgotten what had happened earlier. She had ‘cum’ in the shower,

And, there had been the interesting conversation with the other policewomen back at Mount Thomas,

“One way or another, I’m going to find out this morning!” Joanna promised herself.

Confident that she was alone, the young policewoman started down the first row of garden beds.

Pausing from time to time, she checked behind the various vegetable plants for any sign of the cannabis plants. There were none. Bok Choy. Vegetable plants. Tomato bushes.

Moving a little slowly, she began to enjoy the moment. The crisp fabric of her uniform shirt caressed at her skin – the Summer heat cooled by a gentle southerly blowing in from the Mount Thomas National Park. Without really thinking, the brunette policewoman undid another of her shirt’s buttons,,,

:This is a waste of time?”

Tucked neatly beneath her shirt collar, Joana once again wore a lanyard about her neck, to which was attached her glistening ‘Victoria Police’ OID badge. Now confident, she would find nothing, Joanna toyed with her badge as she continued to wander through the vegetable harden on her own,

“There’s no cannabis here...?”

Five minutes later, she’d seen more vegetables that were contained in the Mount Thomas supermarket. But, there was still no sign of any cannabis...?

Joanna had also found several raspberry bushes and sampled a passionfruit.

Once again, the brunette policewoman told herself that it was all a waste of time.

There was nothing illegal.

And, it had been a wasted trip because Savannah was not home.

Joanna was disappointed. Not because there was no cannabis. But, because Savannah was the first woman to have sparked her sexual desires since Cheyenne had left her for the Qantas stewardess,

The former ‘Miss Victoria Police’ paused. She gazed across the grasslands towards the hills.

“Damn it...?”

Turning on her heels, she scolded herself for conducting the illegal search of the vegetable garden.

Savannah was not home. And, she had no search warrant.

“Find anything...?” a familiar voice asked.

Joanna gasped. Removing her policewoman’s uniform hat, she brushed a few loose strands of her dark-brown hair from in front of her eyes with her long fingertips...

“I should’ve fuckin’ known?”

Joanna had been caught out,

“S-Savannah...?” she sighed.

“Well, did you find anything suspicious, Constable Parrish?”

Savannah was sitting on her back steps...

“N-No...” Joanna replied. Savannah stood up slowly.

“That’s because, there’s nothin’ to find, Constable Parrish ... is there?”

Joanna blushed. Embarrassed, and not a little ashamed at what she’d done,

“What is it about you police ‘cunts’ – you really want to ‘arrest’ me or something?”

Savannah’s lips twitched as if she were trying not to smile.

“I did call out several times...?” the policewoman replied defensively.

“S-Savannah?”

Savannah ambled slowly towards her...

“You didn’t answer, Savannah...?” Joanna continued.

Beneath the crisp pale-blue fabric of her short-sleeved uniform shirt, she could feel her nipples grow hard and erect.

“I was potting seeds in the shed over there...” Savannah explained – Joanna had not even noticed the shed,

“It’s sometimes hard to hear over the lorikeets, Constable Parrish?” the former prostitute added.

Joanna opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it. What could she really say...?

She’d been caught and that was that,

“I just happened to see you grazing in my vegetable garden - the passion fruit’s good, isn’t it?”

Instinctively, Joanna wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. Savannah smiled mischievously.

“It will take more than that to wipe away your guilt, Constable Parrish?” teased Savannah.

The policewoman bit her lip.

A blue halter top and faded ‘Faberge’ denim jeans. Her burgundy-coloured hair glistening. Savannah looked nothing like the prostitute detailed in the dossier, Joanna carried in her policewoman’s handbag,

“So then...?”

Savannah moved in front of the red-faced policewoman.

With the afternoon sun behind her, Savannah appeared almost ethereal to Joanna; almost delicate.

Fine boned, slender, almost fragile as her silhouette softened her outline. Joanna Louise Parrish Maggie offered a soft muffled groan. And then, the illusion disappeared as Savannah moved a little closer to the former ‘Miss Victoria Police’...

“Tess Gallagher...?” Savannah asked.

The sun threw Savannah’s firm muscles into relief and spun the fine hairs on her arms into gold.

It was all so surreal.

“Tom Croydon know you’re here?”.