Blood Sport (18 page)

“Cosy,” I commented.

“Shut your mouth, you stuck-up moll,” snapped Rosie. “Or you won’t get your things back.”

“You won’t get your mother back then,” I snapped in return at her. I didn’t really know what I meant by that, but it sounded suitably menacing. And maybe I looked crazy enough to do something spontaneously fatal, because she sullenly pointed to a soiled mattress in the corner of the room. It was covered in a dirty yellow and blue doona and topped with a stained, case-less pillow.

“That’s where Red was sleeping after Sharnee kicked him out.”

My stomach churned when I saw that he’d taken all the photos of me out of their frames and stuck them to the walls around his ‘bed’, like some kind of shrine.
And they thought I was nuts!

“Unstick them all for me,” I ordered. Despite shooting me a glance of pure loathing, Rosie stood on the mattress and roughly pulled them off the wall, one-by-one.

“Careful with them!” I yelled at her.

When she’d finished I made her place them in a plastic bag for me. Then I forced her to find my pieces of jewellery and the couple of pairs of my nicest panties that Red had stolen from me and hidden under his pillow. She held them by one finger, her face screwed up in disgust.

“Save your revulsion for your weirdo brother,” I suggested coldly. “He’s the one who took them.”

“God only knows why. He could have any woman he wanted, so why he chases after you all the time is a complete mystery to me,” she said with contempt.

“It’s my winning personality.” She snorted in derision. “Where are the photo frames?”

“I have no fucking idea and even less interest.”

I cut my losses. “Carry the bag out to the front and give it to one of the detectives.”

She turned with a flounce and led Lola and me back to the front door.

“You’re going to pay for this, you pig-faced bitch,” Lola seethed.

“I didn’t hurt a hair on your head, you old bat. You ought to be thanking me.”

“The day I fucking thank you for anything is the day you slit your wrists in front of me.”

“I love you too, Lola.”

“Fuck you.”

“Right back at you, honey,” I said and shoved her hard away from me. She stumbled over someone’s muddy boots that had been dumped in the middle of the hallway and fell to the floor. I cautiously made my way out of the house, through the Bycrafts, Mr X and Bum covering me from the stairs until I made it down safely, taking my precious bag from them.

I stooped to pick up the steering wheel lock I’d dropped when I’d taken off around the back. It was Dad’s – I couldn’t leave it behind.

“Who’s going to pay to fix my fucking windows?” screamed Lola at me, lighting up a cigarette with a steady hand and remarkable nonchalance, considering I’d just held her hostage with a gun.

“The same person who’s going to pay to fix my back door and clean up my kitchen,” I yelled back at her over my shoulder. “Nobody.”

Noticing that the Super was striding towards me, black fury furrowing her face, I scrambled into the Land Rover, fired it up, turning up the radio to drown out her harsh voice. I planted my foot, spun the vehicle around in a u-turn and sped off down the street as fast as the old tank would go. Daring to look in the rear view mirror, I suddenly wished that I hadn’t, because the sight of the Super raging after me was going to haunt me for weeks.

Chapter 11

Back home, the forensic guys were working in my bedroom and they glanced up curiously when I entered the house. I guess I wasn’t looking my best. I guess I was looking like a muddy, drowned rat. I was freezing cold and they took pity on me and let me grab some clean clothes from my room. I took a luxuriously long hot shower, lathering up my hair twice. I hoped that either the Super had become bored waiting for me to get out and had left for the prison, or that she had driven straight there from Lola Bycraft’s house.

Warm, clean and dry, though still bleeding and not able to keep my mind from the thought of painkillers, I cautiously made my way to the lounge room. I pulled up short in the doorway when I set eyes on Fiona. She was sitting in one of the armchairs, arms crossed, legs crossed, doing nothing but waiting, a thunderous expression on her face. I spun around in a panic, preparing to flee again.

“Don’t you take one more step.” Her voice was icy cold.

I stood as motionless as a statue.

“Turn around.”

I turned around.

“Come here.”

I went there and stood in front of her. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t a coward. Better to get the bollocking over and done with while I still had a nice glow from the shower.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mr X and Bum sat forward with an equal mix of anticipation and trepidation. Nobody liked to see a colleague being ripped a new one, but everybody was always secretly glad it wasn’t them for once. It was only human nature. I’d be feeling the same in their position.

She was fair to me. “You have exactly one fucking second to give me a reason why I don’t go nuclear on your arse.”

I regarded her unwaveringly. “Can I show you something instead please, ma’am?”

That threw her for a moment. “Hurry up,” she snapped.

I went to the plastic bag I’d brought back from Lola’s place, rummaged frantically before pulling out what I wanted. I stood in front of her again and handed over the photo I’d chosen from the pile I’d rescued.

“Red Bycraft took every photo of me from here, including this one. I just couldn’t leave it behind, ma’am. Not with them. It means a lot to me.”

She glanced down at the photo – a family shot of Dad, Mum, Nana Fuller and me, a little toddler, about eighteen-months-old. It was a formal studio portrait, taken in Big Town barely six months before my mother had been murdered and I’d been critically injured in the same attack. Everyone was in their Sunday best, smiling happily. I wore a beautiful white dress with a pretty bow in my hair and tiny cute pink shoes, sitting on my mother’s lap. One of my little hands was tangled in her long dark-blonde hair and the other grasped her index finger, our identical big dark gray eyes turned towards the camera. We sat next to petite Nana Fuller on a red faux antique sofa. Dad, complete with a hideous Village People moustache that I teased him about endlessly, stood behind the lounge resting a hand on each woman’s shoulder. He looked uncomfortable in his suit, but his smile was genuine. It was a lovely, heartwarming photo, although I’d always thought there was a haunted look in my mother’s eyes. Did she have a premonition about her terrible future?

“It’s the only photo Dad and I have of the four of us. But I’m sorry I was disobedient and I’m happy to take any punishment you give me without complaining.”

“Jesus, Tessie,” the Super said quietly. She finally glanced up. “Don’t look at me like that.”

I frowned. “Like what, ma’am?”

“Like you’re a kitten that I’m kicking.” She thrust the photo back at me and stood up suddenly. “Let’s get to the prison. Your arm’s still bleeding.” She strode out of the room. “Hurry up, Bum!” she shouted angrily. “I’m not waiting two minutes in the rain for you to try to open the car with your fucking house key again!”

She was a tyrannical monster for the rest of the day. When we arrived at the prison, she strode past the first lot of security, flashing her badge and ignoring them when they wanted to scrutinise it more closely, told the second lot to go fuck themselves with their batons when they tried to search her and pushed her way to the medical centre where Red was being treated. She burst into the consulting room, frightening Dr Fenn and his nurse, Lindsey, overriding their objections with her loud profane insistence and slamming the door behind her. Bum, Mr X and I trailed after her in a timid entourage, catching up with the Sarge and Zelda, who had been banished to the waiting room.

“What’s up her butt now?” asked Zelda in a low tone.

“Tessie made her feel human for a second and now we’re all paying for it,” replied Mr X resentfully.

“Good one, Tessie,” Zelda said sourly and slumped back in her chair.

“I didn’t mean to.” I slumped back in my seat too, only to sit upright a bare second later. I jumped to my feet and rushed to the door. “Jakey!”

“Babe.”

He hugged me tightly and I clung to him with my good arm. I hadn’t realised how much I needed him until I saw him again. We embraced for a long time, before he led me over to the far side of the waiting room, away from the curious and hostile stares of my fellow cops. We had a soft-voiced conversation and I gripped his hand so firmly that my knuckles went white.

He was in uniform – white polo shirt, black cargo pants, black winter jacket, black cap, black boots – and he looked fantastic. But then, he always looked fantastic. He told me he would have been with me, but he’d pulled a double shift, filling in for one of his colleagues who was having marriage troubles and needed to spend some time with his wife. My Jake was a great guy like that.

I told him about Miss Chooky and the other girls and how Red had demolished the coop that he’d worked so hard to repair for me. He was furious at Red and upset for me and after we’d said everything we needed to say, we sat closely together, his arm clamped around my shoulders, my hand clasping his. I leant against his lovingly solid chest. He kissed the top of my head and I was peaceful for the first time in days. Everything felt right again when Jake was around.

“I love you, Tessie,” he whispered in my ear.

I looked up at him and cupped his cheek with my palm. “I love you too, Jakey.”

We kissed gently. He pressed his forehead against mine, our noses touching. I never wanted to move from his arms. Ever.

The door to the consulting room flung back suddenly, making us all jump. The Super stormed out, her eyes roving over us, each one of us hoping and praying it wasn’t them she was after.

“Tessie!” she yelled.

“Oh shit,” I whispered under my breath, springing to my feet straight away. I could almost hear the sighs of relief from the others. Jake squeezed my hand and the Sarge threw me a sympathetic glance. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Get your arse in here,
now!
”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I didn’t keep her waiting one second longer than necessary. She slammed the door behind me, trapping me inside with her, Dr Fenn, Lindsey and Red.

“Fix her up too,” Fiona instructed the doctor mildly and then sat down on a chair, taking out her phone and tapping away with disinterest.

Every muscle in my body relaxed again, assured that I wasn’t going to be on the receiving end of one of her infamous bollockings. The doctor and I exchanged an understanding look.

“Bet you’re thinking about a stiff drink or two, Tessie. God knows I am,” he confessed, his eyes flicking to the Super and back to me quickly.

“Don’t know if that would help me much, Doc. I’ve had an . . . interesting morning.”

I looked over to Red, who was lying on a treatment table, handcuffed to the wall. He’d been washed, dressed in clean clothes and stitched up, ready for the ambulance that would transport him to the watch house. He was in a happy place, obviously doped up to the eyebrows.

“Tessie, lovely,” he slurred.

The Super looked up. “Don’t you talk to her, Bycraft. Not one fucking word.”

“Suck my dick, you ugly old cow,” he spat back at her.

“I’d have to find it first, wouldn’t I? And as far as I know, nobody’s yet invented a microscope strong enough,” she dismissed and went back to her phone, not bothered about his insults.

The doctor sighed and turned to my wounds. “Tessie, shot
and
stabbed? That’s extreme, even for you.”

“I did them,” drawled Red proudly. “I hurt her a lot.”

“You did not. I barely even felt them,” I lied. “Anyway, in case you’ve forgotten, I stabbed you too.”

Red laughed drowsily and rolled his eyes towards me. “You’re my kind of bitch, Tessie. I think I love you.”

“Don’t you dare say that!” I remembered how Jake had just said the same words. It was as if Red was mocking me, yet again.

He frowned. “But I do. In my own way. Come closer.”

“Piss off.”

He rattled the handcuff attached securely to the wall. “I can’t hurt you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” ordered the Super, looking up again. “Or my gun’s going to accidently shoot your balls off.”

The doctor squirmed and crossed his legs. A film of sweat beaded his upper lip and faint desperation haunted his eyes. “Let’s check your wounds, Tess. Then you can go back home.” It was obvious that he wanted to get rid of us all as soon as possible.

I sat still, grimacing through the pain as he and Lindsey patched me up. It was silent in the room except for the Super’s heavy tapping on the screen of her phone.

“You’re done now, Tess. But for God’s sake, please take it easy for a few weeks. You’ve lost a significant amount of blood. You need to rest.”

“I’ll try, Doc. I promise.”

“Tessie,” groaned Red. “I’m fading and I’m not going to see you for a while. Come over here. Please, lovely.”

“Shut your fucking gob,” said the Super automatically, her attention fully on her emails.