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Authors: MA Comley

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She held her arms out to the side and shrugged. “I guess you would call this my new uniform.”

Roberts smiled. “What can I do for you?”

Lorne held up the carrier bag.

“I hope that’s not what I think it is.” He sniffed the air.

She lifted her gaze to the ceiling in mock annoyance, and he laughed.

“No. It isn’t. Seriously, chief.”

He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to correct herself.

“Sorry, Sean. Any chance you can get this analysed for me? The case I’m working on—the rape case—I just found my clients’ dog dead. I found this at the scene, suspected poisoning.”

“Bloody hell. I’ll get on it straight away and ask them to get the results back ASAP. I’ll ring you later.” Roberts said to Lorne’s back, as she was already halfway out the door.

“Thanks, Sean. You’re my saviour. Gotta fly. Dad’s in hospital,” Lorne called back, using her father’s illness as a means of a quick getaway.

“Wait. Why?” he shouted after her.

“I’ll tell you later.” Lorne jumped back in Carol’s car, and they headed home. They were both silent for a while until Carol jolted her out of her contemplation.

“The girls will still need protection once he gets off the charges, Lorne.”

“In the next few days, we should know what will happen. I’ll have a word with my contact in the force to see if she can organise a patrol car to cruise the area as a deterrent.”

“Mark my words: He’s going to get off, either today or tomorrow. He won’t be foolish enough to go back to their home again after what happened to Blackie. He’ll try to set a trap for one of them.”

“Damn, I better ring Fiona when we get back to pre-warn her about Blackie. The girls are going to be shit scared after this.”

“How can we tell them to be careful without them worrying?” Carol asked, glancing sideways at Lorne.

“I don’t see how we can. Oh, God, what a bloody mess.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

T
ony was incensed when
Lorne told him how Blackie had died. He kicked the chair in the kitchen with his good leg and swore. “Fucking hell! If I get my hands on that bastard…”

Lorne ran a hand down his arm. “I’m gutted, too. I know this sounds harsh, but at the moment we have to brush Blackie’s death to one side and focus on helping—or should I say protecting—the girls.”

“Sorry. You’re right. What about having a word with Katy or Roberts to get them police protection?” He retrieved the chair he’d just kicked and threw himself into it.

Lorne shook her head dejectedly. “They won’t be eligible for that.”

“Do you think he did it personally? Or do you think he paid someone else to do it?” Tony asked, looking from Lorne to Carol.

Lorne shrugged, but Carol nodded. “He did it, most definitely. Heartless through and through, that one. Extremely dangerous, too. I know I keep saying that, but it’s the truth.”

Lorne slumped into a kitchen chair, put her elbows on the, table and rested her head on her clenched fists. “I just don’t know where we go from here,” she said in a defeated tone.

“You can pack that in,” Tony retorted. “I’ve never known you to give up on something, Lorne. We’ll think of something. All’s not lost. The jury might still find him guilty.” He glanced at Carol, who was vehemently shaking her head. “Let’s wait and see. You need to ring the girls immediately. I wonder if Fiona will give us a key. We could get Blackie out of there before the other girls see him.”

Lorne smiled at her husband and felt blessed to have him around to guide her in her newfound uncertain world. “Let me ring her and see.” She left the room and rang Fiona from the lounge. The young woman’s mobile rang and rang before it finally went into voicemail. She left a message. “Fiona, it’s Lorne. Please ring as soon as you get this message. It’s very important.”

Tony looked up expectantly when she walked back heavy footed into the kitchen. “Voicemail. Next idea?”

“Let’s check on how your father is. Then we’ll go over to the courthouse and get hold of Fiona that way,” Tony said, seemingly pleased as his rusty brain notched up a gear.

“Sounds like a plan, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

Tony raised a questioning eyebrow.

Lorne swept her arm open. “This place. After what happened with Blackie, I’m not keen on leaving the kennels unattended. I know Gibson’s in court at the moment, but you never know if he has an accomplice helping him do his dirty work.”

“He hasn’t, but I’ll stay here,” Carol offered with a smile. “It’ll be my pleasure, Lorne.”

“We couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“Nonsense. I have a free day today. Be off with you.” Carol shooed the pair of them out the back door.

Lorne fired off instructions over her shoulder. “Just make sure the dogs have enough water. No need to let them out; I’ll exercise them when we get back. Thanks, Carol.”

Once in the car and with Tony driving, she rang the hospital. The ward sister reassured her that her father had slept well during the night and that his vital signs had showed a vast improvement. But they still wanted to keep him in for observation, for a day or two, at least.

•     •     •

Lorne ran up the
steps to the courtroom faster than Sylvester Stallone in the Rocky film. Inside, she glanced down the corridor to where she had sat the day before with the girls and saw Linda sitting there with a girl she didn’t know. Out of breath, Lorne asked, “Hi, Linda. Is Fiona around?”

“Lorne, what on earth are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story. Is Fiona here?” Lorne repeated. She smiled and tried to keep her voice calm, not wishing to cause Linda any unnecessary alarm.

Linda motioned with her head towards the door to the court. “Ami’s on the stand; Fiona is in there, giving her moral support.”

“Thanks, I’ll try to grab her attention. How are you holding up?”

“Getting there. We had a struggle with Ami yesterday. I walked into her bedroom, and she was packing an overnight bag. It took me nearly two hours to talk her out of going back to her parents, last night.”

“I can only imagine what the pair of you are going through right now, but if Ami hadn’t braved today, the case against him would have been seriously jeopardised.” She fidgeted, eager to get hold of Fiona.

“That’s what we told Ami last night. She seemed a little better this morning. I’m not sure how it’s going in there, though. Lorne, is everything all right? You seem agitated.”

“Sorry, hon. Need the loo. I’ll try to get Fiona’s attention. Talk soon.” Lorne promptly made her way back to the courtroom entrance. She opened the door and squeezed through.

The court usher looked her over and placed a finger to his lips. She nodded and scanned the visitors’ gallery for Fiona. After locating her in the second row, Lorne made her way over, all the while hearing Ami’s faint voice describe the events of what happened the night she was attacked by Gibson.

Fiona eyed her with startled concern when Lorne sat on the bench next to her. “What are you doing here?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“I need to see you outside,” Lorne whispered urgently.

“But if I leave Ami now, she’ll crumble.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, Fiona. Please?”

Reluctantly, Fiona stood. Lorne glanced over to the stand and smiled a reassuring smile at a panic-stricken Ami. The defence lawyer pounced on the distracted Ami, which almost made Fiona reconsider leaving the court.

Lorne grabbed Fiona’s elbow and steered her out the door. “I’m sorry, Fiona. I need the keys to your flat.”

“What? Lorne, you’re scaring me. What’s happened?”

Lorne peered in Linda’s direction and saw that she and the other girl were approaching them. Hurriedly, she said, “Damn. Fiona, Blackie is dead. I need to remove his body before Ami and Linda see it. It’ll crush them. Please, don’t tell them. Just give me your keys.”

A bewildered Fiona delved into her handbag and passed Lorne her bundle of keys. “Why? How?” As she asked the obvious questions, her confusion gave way to anger. She gasped. “He did it, didn’t he?”

“I’m not sure. I think Blackie was poisoned. Please, don’t react and cause Linda to worry. I’m on my way over there now with Tony. I’ll get the keys back to you as soon as I can.” Lorne rubbed Fiona’s upper arm and left the building before Linda reached them.

Twenty minutes later, Lorne and Tony pulled up outside the girls’ flat and let themselves in. Lorne ran over to Blackie and checked for any signs of life, but he felt cold to the touch. A tsunami of emotions swept through her slightly trembling body. The guilt she felt for placing the dog in such a volatile situation clawed at and squeezed her heart.

Tony had disappeared into the small kitchen and came out carrying a black bag. He shook it out and then knelt on the floor beside Lorne. He winced briefly because of his infection. He draped his arm across her shoulders, and he kissed her cheek to hurry her up.

Lorne cleaned up the blood and saliva first, and as they jointly placed Blackie in the bag, Lorne muttered, “I’m sorry, Blackie. Rest in peace, love.”

They carried the dog’s body out to the car and put it gently in the boot. Lorne looked around nervously, worried what the neighbours might think. Luckily, no one was around.

On the journey back to the court to drop off the keys, Lorne spoke only once. “I know exactly where I want him to be buried. Out in the paddock, underneath the tree he used to mark.”

When they arrived back at the courthouse, a large group of journalists were shoving each other for the best spot as they waited for their prey on the pavement. Lorne glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Could it really be four thirty already?

“I’ll be right back,” she told Tony. She slammed the door and barged through the crowd. Inside, she found the three girls and Linda’s friend, huddled together in their usual spot. By the entrance, Gibson and his entourage were busy prettying themselves up for the waiting press outside.

Lorne narrowed her eyes when Gibson’s arrogant gaze met hers.

For the longest moment, they glared at each other before his mother tugged on his arm. “Come on, darling. She’s not worth it.”

Lorne bit back the retort that had settled on her lips and was dying to be released. Is your mother really that naïve? They say a mother’s love knows no bounds. It sickened her to see such loyalty for a rapist and murderer. You’ll get yours, rich boy!

She broke eye contact with him, scanned his Savile Row-suited body with genuine disgust, and headed towards the girls. She met Fiona halfway and returned the keys. “We’ve cleaned up. How are things progressing here?”

Fiona gave a brief nod, then looked over Lorne’s shoulder at Gibson. “It’s up to the jury, now. Not sure how long they will take to come to a verdict. I’m so proud of the way Linda and Ami coped with the annihilation of their characters. Not sure I would have survived all that crap, if I was in their shoes.”

“I have a feeling the jury won’t be out for long. I’ll see if I can be here tomorrow. Depends on what happens with my father.”

Eyeing Gibson with contempt, Fiona asked, “How is he?”

“He had a comfortable night. I’m going to visit him later; I’ll know more then. What are you going to tell the girls about Blackie?”

“I was hoping you’d help me come up with an excuse.”

“For now, why don’t we tell them that he wasn’t feeling too good, and he’s come back home with me for a few days?”

“Sounds perfect, Lorne. Poor Blackie. I’m not sure I’ll be able to ever have another dog. The guilt of what we put him through is just too much to bear.” Fiona’s eyes grew wet with threatening tears.

“Chin up. Don’t let the other girls see how upset you are. I better go. Tony is parked on double yellows out front. I’ll give you a ring either later on this evening or tomorrow.”

They bid each other farewell, and Lorne exited the courthouse before the attention seekers did. The Gibsons soon followed, and Lorne almost got crushed in the resulting stampede.

She jumped in the passenger seat of the car and let out a huge sigh. “Get me out of here.”

Tony started the engine and indicated out into the stream of late afternoon traffic and headed home.

Carol greeted them and reassured them that the place hadn’t fallen down during their absence. Tony went in search of a wheelbarrow and spade. Lorne and Tony hoisted Blackie’s body out of the vehicle and into the barrow. Then the three of them trudged out to Blackie’s favourite tree. Tony started digging a large hole, while Lorne told Carol that the case was drawing to a conclusion.

“We’ll hear the outcome tomorrow,” Carol said confidently.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lorne noticed the way Carol periodically shook her head as she watched Tony dig the grave. She hoped and prayed that Carol was wrong about how the case would end, but her gut instinct was that come tomorrow she would have a lot of consoling to do.

Carol said a beautiful prayer over Blackie as Tony and Lorne lowered him into the deep hole. Lorne turned and buried her head in her husband’s chest as the tears finally fell for her departed companion.

The three went into the kitchen, where Lorne insisted that Carol should join them for dinner. “It’ll only be pizza, but I’d love you to join us—my way of thanking you for all you’ve done today, Carol.”

“If you insist, who am I to argue? I wanted to have a chat about the little Yorkie I spotted in the kennels, anyway. Any chance I can offer her a new home?” Carol asked hesitantly.

Lorne smiled. “That’s the dog I was telling you about. Little Nelly and you would make an excellent match. Don’t you think, Tony?”

Tony nodded. “No doubts in my mind whatsoever.”

“I don’t want special treatment. I know you have to carry out home checks, et cetera. I’m not opposed to that.”

“I’m sure there won’t be a problem there, Carol.”

“Now tell me all about your new business and why you decided to go it alone?”

Lorne spent the next fifteen minutes assembling the pizzas while explaining what had driven her to become a PI. Carol listened without interruption as Lorne also told her about how she’d met Tony and how he’d lost his leg in Afghanistan.

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