Read ARC: Peacemaker for Free Online Page A

Totes to do a secondary.
    “Looks clear, Virgin. Waiting on sat response though, been feed problems today.”
    “What kind of problems?”
    “You really want to know?”
    I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. Totes’ explanations could be like a foreign language spoken backwards while coughing.“Just tell me when it’s backup.”
    Sixkiller was standing over on the veranda at Paloma, the replica ranch/station house where the tours stopped. The inside was decked out with basic tin kitchenware and handmade tables and chairs. Even the legs of the cooling cupboard were sitting in little tins of kerosene like they used to back in the day – to keep the white ants from chewing through them.
    Outside was a set of herding yards outside. Mostly it was carefully aged to look genuine but some of the wood was straight out of the museum. Lord knows how they got permission to use it; something to do with a Percentage of Authenticity legislation.
    “We should head back,” I called out.
    He nodded and walked over to untie Sombre Vol from the railing. The horse began to edge away but Sixkiller mounted before he could take more than a couple of sideways steps. The cowboy mounted at an unnatural speed that gave me a tingling feeling. He’d seen Aquila, and then spied me examining the rock from a fair distance, and now this… freakish agility.
    Something wasn’t right here, but I was so overrun with thoughts I didn’t know where to file these ones. So, I put them aside. Sixkiller had saved my life last night, he could be as freakish as he liked for the moment, as long as he didn’t get in my way on this murder investigation.
    We rode abreast, cutting away from the main track and following a trail I’d cut myself, out of sight of the road. It meant a bit of winding around rock-falls and through some deep gullies (or gulches as the Marshall called them) but you got to see some of the wildlife that’d learned to avoid the tourist buses.
    Sixkiller pointed out a brown tail disappearing into a low bush.
    “They’re vermin – fox and dingo hybrids. We’ve tried to trap most of them but they’re damned persistent and breed quickly. They eat other small native mammals.”
    He nodded thoughtfully and I wanted to ask him what he was thinking but we weren’t on those kinds of terms yet, so I kept the conversation businesslike.
    “If the sat images come back clean I don’t know what to make of it. We been through all the places someone could be hiding in this section.”
    “If your story is accurate then there has to be something we’re missing.”
    “What do you mean ‘if my story is accurate’?” My moment of goodwill towards him began to rapidly evaporate.
    “You didn’t tell Mr Hunt about the eagle.”
    I pulled Benny up short and waited for Sixkiller to stop as well. “Tell him what? That my imaginary eagle friend flew in to give me a heads up that there was a killer in my kitchen.”
    Sixkiller’s expression became very still. “These are not matters to be flippant about.”
    “You’re right,” I said. “I take my mental health very seriously. It’s not something I want the whole company debating over.”
    To my surprise he sighed and nodded.“ I understand,” he said, nudging Sombre Vol forward.
    “What do you understand?”I sent Benny after them.
    The windmill and the semi-circle of palms that signaled the Interchange station, came into view as the horses climbed a last gully. There was a welcoming party of uniformed police standing in the shade. Hunt’s physique stood out among them and I could imagine him mopping his brow in irritation. It wasn’t often Hunt got sand in his shoes these days.
    “Hold that answer,” I added. “And don’t mention the eagle to anyone.”
    We rode the rest of the way in silence and I dismounted in front of Hunt. His gaze flickered briefly to Sixkiller when he saw which horse he was riding and then settled back on me.
    “You’re late?”
    “We were