FINN GLARED AT Indy, blue eyes like chips of ice, and Indy suddenly wondered if she’d misjudged him. Had she been a fool to follow him out into the floodplains alone? What if he were the murderer? And she’d just presented herself up like a sacrificial lamb.
Clenching her fists into balls by her side, she stopped walking. Perhaps she hadn’t thought this through properly. She’d watched Finn slip out of the camp, even while she’d been talking to Steve and the others about Wombat. When her curiosity had become too much to bear, she’d excused herself and followed Finn’s wraithlike figure through the scrub. He was being careful, not wanting to be seen, and that cemented the idea in her head that he was up to something dodgy. And she needed to know what. Maybe she should’ve told Dale about Finn’
