Blood Tears (4 page)

“
Thank you,” I said softly, knowing that no matter our current
personal situation, she’d always look out for me.

I
needed
this
job. I couldn’t afford to lose it. Dad’s medical bills were
diabolical lately, and the council rates on the unwanted house I’d
inherited were due this month.
Why couldn’t life toss me a bone
now and then?
I thought with great bitterness.

“
That
kid. Did you recognise him?” the Super asked.

“
I
didn’t see his face properly, but if he was a local, I’d know by
now. Someone would have missed him.”

“
Fuck,” she said quietly, her fingers impatiently drumming her
desk. “I’ve had a spate of petty thefts here in Wattling Bay
recently. I wondered if this was connected. Would that grocer have
had much in the till?”

“
Judging from the price he charges for Tim Tams, probably
millions.”

An exasperated
exhalation in my ear. “Tess. I’m fucking serious.”

“
Not
much. You know most of us shop in Big Town. That store is mostly
for tourists, and he gouges them deeply, believe me. But living in
a town with the Bycrafts, the shopkeepers tend not to keep much in
the till. He’s probably the same. Most of his dosh would have been
in the safe in his office.”

She sighed again, and I
heard her lighter flick the flame on another cigarette. “Ask
around. We have to know who this kid is. He has a family somewhere,
and they deserve to know what happened to him.” She breathed the
fumes in deeply. “Even if they don’t give a shit.”

“
Yes,
ma’am.”

“
And
Tessie?”

“
Yes,
ma’am?”

“
Stop
being such a stranger. Ronnie misses you a lot.”

I took my time
responding. “I miss Ronnie too,” I finally said, not sure whether
we were even talking about her husband at all.

“
I’ll
let him know,” she said, hanging up. I listened to the dial tone
for a few seconds before replacing the handset, still not sure who
missed me the most.

Before I went back to
work, and as Baz wasn’t around, I logged into my bank account, and
stared for a full minute at the dire screen in front of me. Unless
I was late with a few bills, I’d never get out of December with my
head above water. And when I checked my diary and realised it was
only the second day of the month, I knew I was doomed to total
penury. It’d be definitely be poor pickings of a Christmas
celebration for Dad and me this year, not that that was anything
unusual for us. I could only thank God there weren’t any debtors’
prisons around these days, because I calculated I’d end up there by
about mid-December.

The counter bell
interrupted my depressed musings. Quickly logging out, and with my
hand on my gun again, I went out. I lifted the latch of my holster
when I greeted my new customers.

“
What
do you want?” I demanded of Lola Bycraft, mother of my boyfriend
and matriarch of the whole stinking, rotten Bycraft
clan.

“
I
want to tell one stubborn bitch of a piglet to stay away from my
son’s funeral,” she snarled, customary cigarette dangling from the
corner of her mouth, noxious smoke curling up into the
atmosphere.

“
No
smoking in the station.”

“
Fuck
you.”

“
Put
it out or I’ll shoot you.” I double-patted my Glock so she would
pay attention.

She glanced over each
shoulder at her offspring flanking her, Rosie and Rick. Three of my
least favourite Bycrafts – and that was saying something, because
I’d never yet met a Bycraft I liked.

Except Jake.

And now Denny.

She pulled the
cigarette out of her mouth – barely a stub at that point – and
ground it on to the time-battered timber counter.

“
Happy, bitch?”

I smiled at her, a
tight, creasing upwards of my lips that held no humour. “I’ll never
be happy while you’re breathing, Lola.”

She laughed, a short
bark of humour. “My Denny’s coming home soon, and I don’t want you
there with all your pig stink wafting over everything to spoil it
for us.”

“
I’m
going to his funeral and none of you will stop me.”

“
We’ll stop you, all right,” threatened Rick, stepping
forward.

“
One
more step and it’s trouble for you, buddy,” I threatened back,
unholstering my gun.

“
Red’s coming and Karl’s coming and Tommy’s coming,” Lola
gloated. “You better watch your back, piglet.”

“
Tommy, sure, I can see that happening. But not Red or Karl.
They won’t be letting them attend. No way. Especially
Red.”

“
Red’s coming, bitch,” Rosie affirmed. “Watch your
back.”

“
I
don’t care what you say. I’m going to Denny’s funeral.”

“
I’ve
never met a dumber bitch in my life,” scorned Rick.

“
And
I’ve never not respected someone who saved my life. And I’ve never
not given credit to a decent Bycraft on the extremely rare occasion
I find one from you bunch of sewage scum. I’m going to Denny’s
funeral. And all three of you can piss off now, because that’s the
last thing I have to say to any of you.”

“
I’m
going to kill you if you try to turn up,” Rick snarled.

I laughed in derision
at his warning. “Okay, you and me out the back now, loser. Let’s
rumble about it.”

“
Fuck
you,” he said, stepping away.

“
How
erudite of you. Piss off now, the three of you. I don’t want to
have to say it to you again in a more painful way.” I laid my Glock
on the counter, my hand covering it.

Lola launched a gob of
spit on her smouldering cigarette butt, and the three of them
sauntered out of the station, six middle fingers up and proud.

I released a huge
breath and locked both front and rear doors. Grimacing at the extra
housework, I pulled on disposable gloves and used ten disinfectant
wipes to clean away Lola’s spittle.

I returned to my desk,
sitting aimlessly staring out of the window, and trying to regain
my composure. I didn’t give a toss about Rick’s threat, but the
knowledge that Red would be allowed to attend his brother’s funeral
threw me. I really thought I’d seen the last of him in the
courtroom dock when he’d been sent back to jail for virtually a
lifetime. I’d grinned and waved at him as he’d been led away,
promoting a string of shouted obscenities from him that resulted in
some rough handling from the Corrective Services officers as they
bundled him out.

I picked up the phone
and rang Jake.

“
Baby
doll, you missing me?” he bantered playfully.

I was in no mood to be
playful. “Jakey, when is Denny’s funeral?”

His voice snapped into
serious mode. “We don’t know yet. They haven’t released his body.
Soon, they tell us.”

“
Will
Red be there?”

Silence.

“
Jakey! Will Red be at Denny’s funeral?”

“
Yeah. I meant to tell you, honestly, but –”

“
How
can they let him out for any reason? He’s a previous
escapee.”

“
Tessie, it’s his brother’s funeral.”

“
When
did you know?”

“
Tessie –”

I slammed the phone
down and checked the locks on the station doors again. I sat at my
desk researching the prison system, looking for an answer to my
question.

How could they let him
out to attend anything, even a funeral?

And that was how the
three guys found me on their return.

Chapter 3

“
Tezza, what’s the matter?” Baz demanded the instant I finally
unlocked the front door after their increasingly worried
knocking.

“
Red
Bycraft’s coming back here for his brother’s funeral,” I told him
in a flat voice.

He snorted. “Of
course
he’s not. They’re not letting him out for that.”

“
They
told me. The Bycrafts told me. They came here especially to tell me
while you were gone.”

“
Who?
Not the kids pulling your leg?”

I stared at him in
annoyance. “No. It was Lola herself.”

“
Shit.” He ran his fingers through his ‘hair’, ruffling it
into an unbecoming mess. “He’ll be accompanied by prison staff the
whole time.”

“
Right,” I said dismissively. “Because that’s going to make
such a difference. He stole a prison van last time he
escaped.”

“
Tess, is this bad? Should we tell Finn?” asked Harley
anxiously, his eyes full of an innocence which could surely only
exist through unfamiliarity with the Bycrafts.

While my response to
that question was a death-stare, Baz ushered the two men aside to
whisper frantically to them. I didn’t even bother listening in, but
whatever he said made them leave, and for that, this time I made
him a decent cup of tea.

“
It
will be okay, Tezza,” he said, sipping in cautious
appreciation.

“
Sure.”

“
He’ll be accompanied all the time.”

“
Sure.”

“
He’ll be identifiable.”

“
Sure.”

He scratched his neck.
“It’ll be okay,” he repeated, but with much less enthusiasm and
belief than a moment before.

“
If
you say.”

“
I’m
saying, but I guess you’re not believing.”

I twisted my chair to
look at him. “I’m hearing you, but I’ve heard it all before. Do you
know he shot me?” I pulled up my shirtsleeve to show him the scar.
“And he also stabbed me here,” I said, rubbing my finger over that
scar. I threw back my chair and stood, pacing around the office.
“This guy is obsessed with me for some reason. He’s been hunting me
my entire life. Does anyone seriously think he’ll meekly come back
here to town, and
not
try to escape to come after me again
when he promised he would?” I rounded on him and leaned
objectionably close to him. “Seriously?”

He flinched backwards.
“Tezza,” he said faintly. “It’ll be okay.”

“
No,
it won’t. I’m out of here.”

“
I’ll
have to report it if you leave.”

I turned on him. “I
don’t care anymore. Report me all you want. I just don’t care.”

“
Hey!
Hey, come back here.”

“
No.
The police force just doesn’t seem to give a shit about the
Bycrafts.”

“
Maybe not. The force is a bureaucracy.
It
doesn’t give
a shit about anything except its budgets and meeting targets,” he
shrugged. “But
I
give a shit. Come back here.”

He stopped me in my
tracks at that. Maybe he was the Cop Wrangler, after all?

“
You’re just saying that because it’s your job,” I accused,
half-turned to him.

“
No,
Tezza. I’m saying that because
I
– me, the man – care about
what happens to you. You’re a cop in a town where half the
population hates you. I see how hard that is for you every day. It
would be hard for any cop. You’re not alone.”

I sank back into my
chair and rested my head on my palms. “Then why do I feel so alone,
Baz?” I asked, deflated.

“
Because you’re fighting everybody all the time. Even those
trying to help you. Stop fighting so much.”

“
If I
don’t fight, I don’t live. It’s not an option for me to stop
fighting.”

“
Tezza, find some faith in others. You don’t have to do this
by yourself.”

I closed my eyes so he
couldn’t see the turmoil in them. “I’ve heard that before,” I
whispered, mostly to myself. “And I believed it.”

As if in understanding,
he stood, patted my shoulder and rinsed our mugs out in the sink, a
rare act of housekeeping from him.

“
Finn
will return,” he said with quiet assurance, placing the mugs upside
down on the drying rack.

“
Who
said anything about him?” I demanded, eyes back on my
screen.

“
Not
you,” he replied, easing his butt back on to the Sarge’s chair.
“And that’s unusual in itself.”

I made a sound of
exasperation, banging on my keyboard again. “The Super rang while
you were away,” I said, diverting the conversation.

Baz sat up straighter.
“Oh, yeah. And?”

“
And
I told her you were at the pub.”

“
Tezza,” he deprecated mildly.

“
She
said she’s going to roast your arse on an open flame for leaving me
unsupervised.”

He considered,
half-shrugging. “Well, that’s probably a tasty way to cook my arse,
truth be told. Lots of fat to render down,” he laughed heartily.
“Hats off to her for that recipe.” But then his eyes zeroed in on
mine. “But, Tezza? Tattletale? Really? I’m disappointed.”

I felt a little
ashamed, but not too much. “What’s good for the goose . . .” I
replied.

“
Is
not good for your supervisor.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Doesn’t matter anyway. Fiona and I have a special
understanding.”

“
What
does that mean?”
Eww
, I thought, aghast.
Surely not . . .
that?

“
We
didn’t have an intimate relationship,” he said, as if reading my
thoughts. “But we had a work relationship.” He slyly glanced over
at me. “Much like the one we have.”