Chapter 23
Ric stood on the porch and watched Nina’s ute take off out the gate, wheels spinning on gravel. She hadn’t believed him, not completely. She’d needed reassurance, convincing. It shouldn’t be like that. There should be complete trust between them. Ric stretched to ease his sore muscles. They were wound tight, jumping beneath his skin, coiled in readiness for . . . for what? He didn’t want to argue with Nina’s dad, although it sounded like Jim was spoiling for a fight. He didn’t want to argue with his own father either, although it sounded like Max deserved it. That’s if his dad had rigged the wheels. Nina was so certain of it. But what if it was Lockie who’d rigged them, to cast blame onto Max and onto him too? Why hadn’t Nina doubted Lockie’s story, the way she’d doubted his?
