Blood Sport (48 page)

“Of course I did, sweetie,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat and sitting on her bed, giving her a gigantic but careful hug.

“Thank you so much for caring enough about me to help,” she whispered tearfully. I reached over to her bedside table and pulled a handful of tissues from a box, handing them to her. She mopped her face and sniffed loudly. I hoped she’d stop crying soon, or I’d be reaching for a tissue myself.

I sent the Sarge off on an errand to buy her some teenage girl magazines and chocolate and stayed with her for much longer than I’d planned. She’d been assigned a victim support officer, a motherly woman with kind eyes, an understanding manner and broad shoulders built for crying on. That officer had managed to contact Kylie’s mother. She was currently on her way to Big Town as we spoke to be reunited with her runaway daughter.

Kylie clutched my hand tightly and confided how nervous she was about meeting up with her mother again after everything that had happened. Not really knowing what to say, I advised her just to take each minute as it came and to give her mother a chance to make it all up between them. Everyone deserved a second chance, I told her. Especially in the important relationships in your life.

Kissing her on her forehead and promising to keep in contact with her, we made our farewells. The Sarge drove me to the Big Town police station where he was going to drop me off. I would catch a lift with the Super after she finished work.

My entrance caused a bit of a stir and I endured some ribbing and an ironic slow clap at my expense. The Sarge carried my bag for me up to the Super’s office. She was on her mobile, standing at the half-open window, smoking, and waved us inside. The Sarge reluctantly made moves to take his leave, not happy about letting me go again when I’d only just returned.

“Sarge, you go home and ring Melissa. Sort it all out with her. Apologise your heart out. We women love that,” I advised, smiling. “You have a wedding to plan, remember?”

He shook his head, resolute. “I’m not ringing her. She needs to grow up. I’m not marrying a baby.”

“Don’t be so mean to her. She’s very young.”

“She’s only three years younger than you, Tessie.”

That floored me. I’d been thinking she was much younger, maybe just twenty-years-old. “Oh.”

His voice was sour. “We were engaged when she was twenty-two and I was thirty. Two years later and here we are.”

“Fucking nowhere, if you ask me,” threw in the Super uninvited, her phone call finished. “From what I saw, that fiancee of yours is nothing but a spoilt princess, Maguire. You need to sort her out now or you’re in for a fucking lifetime of pain.”

“Thanks for your relationship advice, ma’am. I’ll treasure it, I promise. Particularly coming from someone so skilled in personal interactions.” He strode from the room with undeniable attitude, not saying another word to us as he left.

“Fiona,” I reproached, after he’d gone.

“He fucking pushes my buttons, Tessie. There’s something about him that’s so arrogant and assured. I’m going to find out what it is.”

“Forget about him,” I said, trying to save the Sarge from any more of her attention. “Tonight it’s just Ronnie, you and me. I hope Ronnie’s cooked something nice. I’m starving.”

“Stop thinking about your stomach for a minute. We have to fit you out with some new gear.”

That took an hour all up, getting an entire new utility belt, including gun, with all the paperwork. It reminded me that I also needed to buy myself a new knife, having lost both of mine in the explosion at the bikie retreat.
There went another couple of hundred bucks down the drain
, I thought gloomily.

Eventually we were ready to leave the station and I shared a lovely evening with Fiona and Ronnie. They were such a perfect match – Ronnie’s courteous, calm easiness contrasting nicely with her foul, frantic energy. Yin and Yang.

I loved Ronnie. He was tall and gangly with a shaved head, cute goatee and mo, earrings piercing both ears all the way from the lobe to the gristly bit up the top. He was well-tattooed and had ‘
Fiona
’ inked on his body in six places, he’d told me once. I’d seen four of them, but the other two were for her eyes only. He looked like the kind of guy you’d cross the road to avoid, but he was possibly the sweetest man I’d ever met. He was absurdly domestic and loved doing all the housework and cooking, which worked well because Fiona’s job kept her away from home all hours of the day and night. And let’s face it – she was no homemaker.

To their disappointment, they’d never had any children. As a poor substitute, I’d been in both their lives ever since Fiona had taken up a place as a young fresh detective constable in Wattling Bay over twenty years ago, little realising that she’d meet her future husband there. As a sharp detective, she’d come into contact with the Fuller-Bycraft situation early in her career. In fact her career had almost been built on capturing Bycrafts for their heinous crimes, investigating my mother’s murder, Nana Fuller’s hit and run and Marcelle’s murder. During that time, I’d become their surrogate child.

Fiona had been a big influence on my own decision to become a cop. I’d admired her strength, her discipline, her unwillingness to be patronised or discounted because of her gender. Her determination, her feistiness, her skills and her results impressed me deeply, even as a small child. When I told them at my graduation from university that I was going to apply to the police academy, Fiona hugged me tightly and shed one genuine tear.

Ronnie had been much less happy about the decision, recommending teaching, as did Dad and Nana Fuller. I’d realised then that they’d all spoken together about it previously. But unfortunately for all of them, I’d had my heart set on becoming a cop and I’d excelled at the police academy, graduating with honours. And on the day of my graduation, there were none prouder than Fiona and Ronnie, except perhaps Dad and Nana Fuller.

The Sarge rang Fiona’s landline before I went to bed wanting to speak to me. My busted mobile had also been blown to bits in the explosion at the bikie retreat. Something else I’d have to replace. Fiona handed over the phone with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s your work boyfriend,” she said sarcastically. “He’s worried that something’s happened to you in the three hours since he saw you last, even though he knows you’ve been with me the whole fucking time.”

The Sarge and I chatted for a little while, but Fiona was ultimately right – he was merely checking on me.

“You’re not going to ring me up during the night to check too, are you?”

“I might,” he teased. “Just to make sure that you haven’t sneaked out again. Maybe the Super might let me use web cam to keep an eye on you?”

“Not going to happen!” I laughed and changed the subject. “Have you rung Melissa yet?”

“I told you, I’m not ringing her.”

“Don’t be so obstinate! This is the most important relationship in your life. There has to be some give and take.”

“Exactly, and that’s her whole problem. She doesn’t know that.”

“Sarge,” I sighed. “Give her a ring now. Life’s too short to be angry with people that you love.”

“Nope.”

“Sarge!”

“Nope.”

“You’re as stubborn as a mule!”

“And just as handsome.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sure are,” I said, smiling too.

He laughed. “Have a great weekend with Jake. See you Monday.”

“Thanks, Sarge, and . . . thanks again for everything.”

“Anything for you, Tess,” he said quietly, before hanging up.

That night, in Fiona and Ronnie’s lovely house, I fell asleep happily in the bed I’d slept in a hundred times before. Probably because I’d spoken to him just before going to sleep, I dreamt of the Sarge.

I was trudging along
the Coastal Range Highway, drenched and freezing, with Kylie over one shoulder and Lucy over the other. I was exhausted and footsore with another twenty kilometres to walk until I reached safety, crying in frustration.

A car approached me from behind and I turned and waited optimistically by the side of the road as it drew nearer to me. It slowed down but didn’t stop, continuing on its path, leaving me behind. As it passed me
, I could see that it was Melissa at the steering wheel driving. The Sarge was in the passenger seat, frantically gesturing to me, banging on the window and yelling at Melissa to stop. She turned to me and smiled triumphantly as she drove on past. My last view of them was the Sarge’s anguished face as he twisted in his seat to look back at me.

Chapter 29

Jake turned up mid-morning and I flew to the veranda to greet him. He picked me up in his arms and spun me around. When he let me down again, he kissed me lingeringly and I moulded myself to his body, all my senses tingling. I couldn’t wait to be in that hotel room alone with him.

“Tessie, you had me worried to death,” he scolded tenderly, his beautiful amber eyes filled with emotion. He kissed me again.

“I’m sorry, honey-boy. I didn’t mean to,” I said contritely and reached up to kiss him back. It was a while before either of us spoke again. “Happy birthday, Jakey.”

“I’m looking forward to unwrapping
this
present,” he said with a crooked smile, his hands clutching my butt.

I told him about the surprise I’d organised for us, thrilled at his genuine happiness at hearing that we were spending the weekend together in a flash hotel.
And
going out to dinner as well.

“What a wonderful surprise, babe! I had no idea you’d planned that. Thank you so much.”

“I’ll give you your present when we get there,” I promised.

“I’ll give you
your
present when we get there too,” he growled and pulled my hips against his. “In fact, I think I’m going to need to give you several presents to make up for the last month.”

I giggled and kissed him and it wasn’t long before our tongues were entwined, our bodies pressed as closely together as possible with our clothes on, hands greedily roaming each other.

The rain was so loud on the unlined tin roof of the veranda that we didn’t hear Fiona approaching. “Well, fuck me speechless!” She turned to yell inside the house. “Ronnie! Get the hose. There’s a couple of horny critters on the veranda. What will the neighbours think, you two? This is a decent neighbourhood around here, you know. It’s not the fucking red light district. Get your tongues off each other.”

We reluctantly moved apart, keeping our arms around each other’s waists. I smiled at her guiltily. “Sorry Fiona, but Jakey and I haven’t been together for a long time.”

“Hello, Fiona,” Jake said, his cheeks reddening.

“Jake,” she nodded. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he said and she herded us inside into the living room where Jake and Ronnie shook hands and Jake received some more birthday wishes. Fiona re-entered the room and handed Jake a nicely wrapped present.

“From Ronnie and me.”

“Oh gee . . . thanks so much, Fiona, Ronnie. I wasn’t expecting this.” He was taken aback by the nice surprise. He’d grown up never expecting anything from anybody, so was always delighted when someone did something kind for him.

“Go on, open it,” Fiona urged. I threw her a grateful glance. Buying Jake a present was her way of showing that she accepted him as my boyfriend, despite the fact that she didn’t much like him because he was a Bycraft.

He opened the wrapping and inside was a designer t-shirt. He was so excited that without another thought, he pulled off his jacket and t-shirt in front of us, flashing us a tantalising view of his buff body as he slipped on his gift.

“It’s perfect. You have wonderful taste,” he said, daring to kiss Fiona on the cheek. If she was trying to hide her smile at his charm, she did an outstanding job of it. She really didn’t like Bycrafts. Jake only faltered for a micro-second at her stoniness, before saying brightly, “I’m going to wear it for the rest of the day.”

“Speaking of which, let’s make the most of the rest of the day, birthday boy,” I said, squeezing his hand and giving him a meaningful glance.

We bid hasty farewells to Fiona and Ronnie and scampered to his ute. But on the way to the hotel, I was struck by an attack of the guilts and asked Jake if he’d mind detouring to the hospital. I wanted to visit Kylie one last time as it was highly likely that she’d be released into her mother’s care some time today. Being the generous person that he was, Jake didn’t mind at all and we spent the next hour at the hospital.

Kylie looked even better than when I’d last seen her and her face lit up again when she saw me. She eyed Jake hesitantly, reluctant to talk to him. I hadn’t told him anything about her history, but I guess he sensed she was someone who’d be very wary around men for a long time. He kept a respectful distance, but exchanged a few friendly words with her and even coaxed a shy smile from her once.

“Officer Tess is the bravest person I ever met,” she told him, glancing over to me with undisguised hero-worship in her eyes.

“She sure is,” he said, his arm around me. He kissed the top of my head.

“She rescued me and carried me to safety all that way. And she doesn’t even know me.”

Kylie’s mother, who’d arrived earlier, returned from a cigarette break. I was subjected to some overdramatic tight squeezes and a multitude of gushing ‘thank-yous’ from her for saving ‘her precious baby’ from harm.