Blood Ties (35 page)

“Of course you do. I’ll drive you home,” he said, taking my hand.

“No, it’s okay. You go back to work. I don’t want you to lose any pay because of me. I’ll ask the Sarge to drive me home. It’s the least he can do for me.”

“You sure, baby doll?” I assured him I was. “Okay. I’ll call you later. I love you.” And he kissed me tenderly on my forehead, away from my new stitches.

I looked up at him and hugged him tightly. “I love you too, Jakey.” I walked over to where the Sarge was waiting, watching us with deceptive aloofness, his arms crossed.

“Let’s go, Tess,” he demanded and I nodded agreement, carefully yawning again. He slid his arm around my shoulders and looked down at me, his eyes showing his genuine concern. “Are you okay? What did the doctor say?”

“I’ll live,” I said flatly. I didn’t want to talk to him. I turned and waved to Jake, sighing at the dark expression on his face at the Sarge’s familiarity. I slipped out from under the Sarge’s arm and headed off to the patrol car by myself. Inside, I slumped in the passenger seat, closing my eyes to discourage any conversation on the way back.

“Tess,” he began, despite my unmistakable hint that I had no wish to speak. “I’ve organised a force from Big Town to meet me so we can arrest all four Bycrafts at once. That’s why I didn’t want your boyfriend to be in town when it happens. It will probably get ugly.”

“I want to be there too,” I insisted, opening my eyes and sitting up with interest.

“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t want you exposed to any more violence today.”

“I’m a cop in this town. It’s my job! You can’t just –”

He was resolute, interrupting me. “Don’t make me give you an order about this, Tess. I want the Bycrafts to stop associating every policing activity that happens in this town with you. You’re not going to be involved in this bust. If there’s going to be any retribution, I want it to be on my head this time, not yours.”

I said nothing, silently fuming.

“I know you think I’m not listening to you again, but can you please try to understand my reasoning about this?”

I didn’t respond, staring straight ahead at the road flying towards us, jaw set, not meeting his eyes. My thoughts were spinning. I’d always been in the middle of
every
police action in Little Town since I’d been posted here. I couldn’t imagine stepping back from a Bycraft raid.

“Tess?” he asked again. “Please?”

I remained silent, staring ahead. Couldn’t even imagine it.

“Please Tess?” he begged, with so much honest emotion that I relented a little. But I didn’t answer him straight away.

“Okay,” I said finally and quietly, all the fight deserting me in a swift flow. The morphine was knocking me out, I realised reluctantly. And I’d had enough of the Bycrafts for one day anyway.

“Thank you,” he said, equally quiet, as we pulled into my driveway. He insisted on accompanying me upstairs to explain everything to Dad, me instantly shaking off his helping hand when I painfully climbed the front stairs. Inside, he faced the same angry scepticism about his judgement from Dad that Jake had dished out to him. I didn’t defend him. While he listened to Dad calmly and patiently, not trying to justify himself or blame anyone else, I wrote down the usual home addresses of the four Bycrafts who’d attacked me. After ten solid minutes of Dad berating him, the Sarge looked at his watch and excused himself as it was time to meet the team from Big Town at the station. I walked him to the door.

“I wish I was going to be there with you all,” I complained unhappily, leaning with weariness against the doorframe.

“I know you do. But it’s better if you’re not involved.” He leaned on the doorframe as well, standing too close to me, his dark blue eyes looking down into mine intensely. His hand reached up to rest on my shoulder, squeezing it tightly, sincere regret on his face. “Today’s the last time I’m ever going to let you down, Tess. Do you believe me?”

I wanted to duck out from under his hand, but was too mesmerised by his eyes to move, lost in their depths. “I want to believe you, but I . . . it’s just . . . I . . .” I sighed deeply. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll prove it to you, I promise,” he said in a low serious voice and we searched each other’s eyes, captured by the emotion of the moment. He snapped out of it first, looking away with a heavy sigh. “Well, okay, I better get moving, I suppose. I’ll drop by after it’s over. See you, Tess.”

“Good luck. Take care.” He walked away. “Oh, and Sarge,” I called out after him. He turned. “Kick a few heads in for me. Especially Red’s.” He smiled briefly. I didn’t smile back. He jogged down the stairs to the car. He tooted the horn as he drove off and I waved and leaned against the door until I couldn’t see the car anymore.

A few minutes later, I was standing under the shower, the stream of hot water equally painful and therapeutic as it washed away the dried blood. I dressed in a loose skirt and t-shirt and carefully avoided looking at my poor damaged face in the mirror as I combed my wet hair. When I came out I found Dad soaking my uniform in stain remover.

Dad made me lunch, but I wasn’t able to choke down even a bite of it. It was only as I settled down next to him, his hand softly and soothingly stroking my hair, to watch some mind-numbing afternoon TV that I remembered that I’d turned off my phone. I turned it back on to see that I’d had missed a number of phone calls since then. The only one I was interested in was Jake, so I rang him back, but he must have been working because it went straight to his voicemail. I left him a quick message letting him know that I was safe at home and then turned my phone off again. Sometimes you just don’t want to talk to anybody.

The banality of the TV show and the strong shot of painkiller the doctor had given me made me drowsy. I curled up on the lounge and fell asleep. When I woke up, groggily roused by the sound of raised voices, I was alone in the room and the late afternoon sun was streaming through the window. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, wincing with pain when I belatedly remembered that one of them was now bruised. The voices were coming from the kitchen, but I didn’t go investigate. My brain was too fluffy with painkiller and sleep to give my body any directions, so I remained slumped on the lounge blinking blearily at the blank TV.

The voices came closer until a blonde-haired pixie poked her face around the doorway and a familiar husky, sexy voice assailed me. “Thank Christ! Sleeping Beauty’s finally woken up, and she didn’t even have to kiss a fugly toad like Bum here to do it.” It was Fiona, and standing behind, towering over her, was Bum Bunion.

“Oh no, what’s he doing in my house?” I complained tiredly, listing to my right. I closed my eyes again.

Fiona turned her head and yelled to someone in the hall. “Hey Maguire, get your arse in here and come prop up your little partner. She’s as loose as a Bycraft-fucking slut. Oh that’s right, I almost forgot, she
is
a Bycraft-fucking slut.”

I waited for Dad to yell out to her to watch her mouth because that was his daughter she was talking about, but he didn’t.

“Where’s Dad?” I murmured, anxiety breaking through my grogginess.

“One of his reprobate friends took him down to the pub for a few hours,” she reassured me. “They’re playing the pokies. He didn’t want to go, but I told him we’d keep you busy while he was gone. And Christ knows the poor bloke deserves a fucking break now and then. Especially with you as a daughter and all the trouble you cause.”

The Sarge entered the room, shooting the Inspector a dirty look at her language, and sat next to me on the lounge, hauling me upright with his arm around my shoulder. Too groggy to care, I leaned over until I was comfortably supported on his shoulder, refusing to open my eyes. He kept his arm around me. I surprised myself by thinking how nice it was.

“Tessie, you are one lucky bitch,” Fiona said, settling herself in an armchair, Bum in the other. I opened my good eye briefly and glared at her. I was not able to think of a single way in which my situation could possibly be considered as ‘lucky’.

“You have the Inspector herself coming out to this horrible horse-fucking shitpile of a town to investigate your assault. Talk about teacher’s pet.” She cast a scornful eye on Bum. “I couldn’t trust any other of the dumbshits I have to work with to look after my Tessie properly. Couldn’t even find their own arses with a map and a GPS.” Bum ignored her calmly, well used to her diatribes.

I sat up, instantly alert, and twisted to look up at the Sarge. His uniform was scuffed, his hair more mussed than usual, he had a bruise developing on his cheek and a small cut on his bottom lip. “What happened? Did you get them all?”

“All four are in custody, on their way to Big Town right now,” he told me, with an exalted smile. “We had to get medical attention for all of them, especially Red. You did a good job of beating them up, Tess. When we broke the door down to Red’s place, his mother and his girlfriend were trying to stitch up his arm with nothing but some Dettol, cotton balls and fishing line. They weren’t very happy about him being arrested and it became violent at one point. But he’d had a half-bottle of rum to numb the pain by the time we turned up and was as drunk as all hell. He couldn’t even stand up straight and didn’t put up much of a fight. His mother was a different story though. She fought us like a demon. God, that woman is the devil’s consort.” He frowned. “What I don’t understand is why none of the men made a run for it after they left the police station. They had at least a three hour head start over us.”

Fiona answered. “Too fucking used to getting away with everything. Think they’re above the law.” She laughed, a hard barking noise. “We showed those scrotes who’s in charge around here today, that’s for sure.”

My hand flew up to my mouth, not able to speak, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion again, glad that someone besides me was finally doing
something
about the Bycrafts for once. I furiously blinked back the unwelcome tears that sprang into my eyes. Nobody cried in front of Detective Inspector Fiona Midden.

“Aw Jesus, don’t turn on the waterworks, Tessie,” Fiona sighed with impatient disgust. “It doesn’t cut any ice with me because I know that you’re really as tough as dried bull’s balls. Besides, you’ll just give these two even more of a horn for you with those helpless little girl tears. And they don’t need any more encouragement, believe me. Look at this one,” and she indicated the Sarge, “with his fucking hands all over you like a Braille-reading octopus. And this one,” nodding towards Bum, “has been perving at your panties since we got here.”

Those comments had the immediate effect of drying up my threatened tears, but left the three of us feeling uncomfortable. I looked down and saw with embarrassment that I was flashing an indecent amount of thigh, and yes, probably some panties. I hastily pulled my skirt down over my legs from where it had ridden up as I slept. The Sarge let go of my shoulder and I promptly shifted away from him to the opposite end of the lounge, crossing my legs and arms protectively, not making any eye contact with either man. The Sarge’s face was stony and Bum squirmed in his chair, his eyes firmly fixed on the carpet, pink flushing his cheeks.

“Good,” said Fiona, pleased with the response. “Now that the men are focussed and got their minds off their dicks for once, let’s get down to business. I haven’t got all day and I’m gagging on the stink of cow shit already.”

“There’s only a handful of cows around here, ma’am,” I pointed out politely.

“Must be those Bycrafts I can smell then. Whatever. It fucking reeks in this town.” She turned to Bum. “Get your notepad out, dipshit! I want you to get your head out of your arse and do some work for once.”

“Yes ma’am.” He scrambled to open his notebook and have his pen poised, ready to write. I almost felt sorry for him having to work so closely with Fiona, day in, day out. Almost.

She skilfully took us through the day’s events from when we began our community beat. When we reached the part about taking Lola Bycraft to the lockup, she stopped her questioning, an incredulous expression on her face.

“And which one of you numb-nuts thought that was a good idea?” she demanded, her sharp blue eyes scorching first the Sarge, then me. It was a test of sorts, because she knew it wouldn’t have been me.

I stayed silent, looking down at my bare feet, possibly the one part of me that currently wasn’t bruised. The Sarge spoke up without hesitation. “That was me, ma’am.”

She shook her head sadly. “Jesus! It’s always the fucking same – the better-looking they are, the dumber they are. And you, Maguire, are as dumb as a box of rocks. Tess!” She made me jump. “Why didn’t you tell Sergeant Shit-for-brains here that it was a stupid idea to lock up that old bitch-hag?”

I didn’t want to answer because that would be disloyal.

The Sarge jumped in again. “She did, ma’am, but I wouldn’t listen to her. I was angry that Mrs Bycraft spat on me.” We exchanged a glance and he gave me a small remorseful smile. I gave him a smaller one in return. I also gave him major points for owning up to a screw-up in front of Fiona and not blaming me for anything. He couldn’t have been more different to Des at that moment if he’d tried.

“Fuck a duck! Can you two save your lovefest for later in the backseat of your patrol car like the rest of us? Just answer the questions so I can get the fuck out of this backwards shithole before I start wanting to root a goat and marry my own brother.”

“Your brother’s pretty cute,” I reminded her, eyeing her steadily. “And we’ve got some real talented goats around these parts, if you know what I mean. You could do a lot worse, ma’am.”