Tumble Creek (20 page)

‘I'm kidding—I'm kidding. Relax,' he ordered with a grin.

‘I'll try. Before you go—I don't want to leave Claudia alone tonight,' Sofie told him.

‘Wouldn't want you to either. Claudia needs you.' His gentle eyes held something she couldn't quite get a fix on, and despite everything, heat curled inside her. ‘Babe, do what you want, whatever makes you feel comfortable, but look ahead, not back.'

‘I'll stay here with Claudia.' Face against his hard chest, she hugged him and mumbled into his shirt, ‘I'll miss you … very much.'

‘Yeah … me too. Go see to Claudia. I'll call you later,' he sweetly rumbled, then dipped his head to kiss her, warm and deep, but not for long. When he pulled away, he brought his hand up to her face and, eyes following, he trailed the back of his hand down her cheek and along her jaw. Another swift kiss and he was gone.

Chapter 9

Brock didn't want Jett to feel intimidated, so instructed Takumi to sit at the back of the room and to leave the door open. Looking forward to pushing Jett for answers, he sat at the table opposite him and switched on the tape recorder and read him his rights.

‘Would you like a lawyer present?'

‘What? No!' Jett complained loudly.

‘If you can't afford legal representation, we can call someone from Legal Aid.'

‘Don't be ridiculous, I can afford my own lawyer,' Jett huffed, taking offence.

‘You're happy to answer my questions?' Brock asked.

‘I've got nothing to hide,' Jett answered, crossing his arms in a show of self-inflated bravado.

Brock could see straight through his act and went ahead with a plan that had formed on his way back to the station. ‘Your cooperation will help.' He kept eye contact with Jett, unable to comprehend that this piece of shit once had the most beautiful, amazing woman in his life and he just fucked her over. ‘On my way here, I had a chance to think.'

‘Yeah right, of course you did,' Jett said, his posture spewing forth bravado and smugness.

It gnawed at Brock to have to use Sofie's and Claudia's names in the same room with this cretin. Unfortunately, it was going to be unavoidable.

‘Both your ex-wife and daughter want nothing to do with you. Before the situation gets out of hand, I suggest you leave them alone. If you don't, and if it ever gets that far, they have witnesses to back them up in court.'

‘That's rubbish, all I wanted was to talk. Sofie's house was demolished and I came to see if she was all right … and Claudia too of course. '

‘Naturally, you're her father.' Jesus, he hated saying that.

‘That's right. And I should report you. You were threatening, and way off limits as a police officer telling my daughter to move away.'

‘Um, she was about to punch you on the jaw, and I was doing my job, getting the situation under control. If you want to make a formal complaint, go ahead. I'll get the paperwork myself.' Brock studied him closely before adding, ‘But remember, the force looks into me, they'll definitely look into you, uncover everything there is about you.' Going by Jett's subtle facial changes and the hands he couldn't keep still, yeah, Brock had the lying bastard.

‘I don't think that's necessary.' Jett waved a dismissive hand.

Brock went on politely, giving Jett a false sense of security. ‘They've been through a lot lately. It's been an emotional time for them, losing the house the way they did.' Elbows on the table, he leaned in. ‘Is there anything you can tell me about their house? Do you know of anyone who would want to exact revenge on Ms Dove—and her daughter of course?' Brock asked, keeping his demeanour and voice as neutral as possible.

Jett squared his shoulders. ‘I have no idea and she is still Mrs Olsen, you know—.'

Was he insane? It took effort, but Brock managed to stop himself from shaking his head. He gave a slight shrug instead. ‘Well, that might be a moot point as you are divorced and—' Brock skewed his face and hoped he managed a curious expression ‘—didn't you marry someone else?'

Jett lost some of his bluster. ‘That was a mistake, we all make them, right?'

‘We sure do.' Brock chuckled, thinking,
I'm so going to nail your balls to the barn door
. ‘You like Tumble Creek? Think you'll be staying a while?'

‘I would have stayed with Sofie and Claudia, but …' Jett gave a little shrug.

Brock didn't answer, only inclined his head, and kept a short leash on his rage. This guy sitting opposite staying with Sofie and Claudia would
not
happen as long as he had breath.

‘But yeah, can't, her house is a pile of rubble.' Jett let slip the barest of smiles, it was gone in a blink, but Brock hadn't missed it. ‘Heard it on the grapevine, came into town to get Sofie to come back to Sydney. She could easily buy a place and we could start fresh.'

‘I see. And your ex didn't want to cooperate so things got a little heated.' Brock heaved an impatient sigh and, chin down, eyes fixed on Jett, kept his temper under control and leaned back in his chair. ‘Just your ex? You'd like your daughter to stay here, with her aunt. Is that what you're saying?'

‘Yes, exactly. I can see you understand. Claudia's old enough. I'm sure she has friends here. She'd much rather stay.'

‘Really, you've talked to her about that?'

‘Er … no, but she's my daughter, I know what she's like.'

‘Yeah, besides, teenagers can be difficult.' Brock mentally kicked himself, getting emotionally involved and taking this shit way too far.

‘Difficult, are you kidding?' Jett rolled his eyes. ‘A pain in the arse more like. She punched me in the face then kicked me.' Frowning, Jett rubbed his jaw.

A real father would've been damned proud of his daughter showing so much righteous strength. ‘I suggest you don't text Claudia. Don't go anywhere near either of them and definitely no more arguments or I will have to charge you with harassment, or disturbing the peace, or both—on two counts.'

‘Sofie was just being emotional, she's highly strung and never known what's best for her. I'm here to make sure she gets the best.'

It took every ounce of Brock's SAS training not to leap over the table and strangle the egotistical arsehole with his bare hands. He gripped the armrests of his chair and continued with what he had left, his trump card.
Okay, here we go.

‘So, you know nothing about a truck ploughing into your ex's house on Lavender Lane other than what you heard on the “grapevine”. What grapevine would that be, Jett?'

Jett's eyes darted everywhere except at Brock, which meant he was panicking, and that meant it took him a while to come up with a story.

‘Don't tell Sofie, but I ran into her mother. Elizabeth begged me to get Sofie to come home. Her mother needs her … um … misses her.'

‘Her mother, right, I see.' Brock nodded, Sofie was right, he had spoken to her mother. ‘Do you know, or do you have any knowledge, no matter how remote, of anyone who would want to run a truck into Ms
Dove's
house? Does she have any enemies?'

Jett's eyes slid away then, realising his mistake, quickly brought them back. ‘Of course not, I mean, who would do something like that on purpose?'

Too late, your shifty eyes gave you away, you lying bastard.

Brock leaned over the table again, getting close, intimidating. ‘Yeah, what sort of arsehole would do that, and to Sofie of all people?'

The CCTV footage sent to them from the service station where the truck had been stolen was too blurry. Takumi had already blasted the manager for not upgrading their equipment. At least they could've kept the lens clean.

‘If you haven't got anything else, I suggest you let me go,' Jett mouthed off.

The pompous arse.

Brock couldn't hold him any longer. Perhaps they'd discover more if Jett was out and about. He was cocksure and arrogant enough to make a mistake.

‘Of course. I think that about wraps it up.' Brock pushed his chair back. ‘Before you go, where are you staying? Just in case the department wants you to answer more questions, I doubt it, but you never know.'

‘I'm at the Creek Motel.'

‘Ah, good people run that place. You staying long?' Brock asked, friendly like.

‘I haven't decided yet,' Jett said, his voice full of authority.

‘I hope you enjoy our beautiful town.'

Standing by the window, Brock and Takumi waited until Jett Olsen was out of sight.

‘How the fuck did you keep your hands off that sick bastard?' Takumi didn't wait for an answer and, voice low, he asked, ‘What do you think?'

‘We're police officers, and I think early one morning, Jett Olsen got it in his tiny brain to steal a truck and drive it to Tumble Creek to demolish Sofie Dove's house. And I'm starting to get a handle on why.'

‘You gonna share?'

***

Claudia thrashed and twitched most of the night. Sofie had no doubt that, along with her Goth make-up mask, Claudia's night-time restlessness was made worse by confronting her father. She'd had words with Claudia about the text messages, and her sweet girl didn't want her mum to have to deal with them as well. She also didn't want the texts to wear her mother down and then be persuaded to have an ‘amicable' get-together. Unfortunately, Claudia had deleted all the text messages moments after receiving them. But in future, if there were anymore, she would show them to Sofie. What to do about it all? Sofie would have to tread carefully, she'd start with researching the problem and, if necessary, talk it over with someone without Claudia finding out. As if Claudia were privy to what she was thinking, Sofie received a kick to her shin. She'd be black and blue by morning.

It was time to try something new. Sofie turned to her side, tugged Claudia closer, wrapped her arms around her and held her firmly. Claudia frowned, squirmed, and whimpered in her sleep. Sofie intended to hold her until she stopped. It didn't work. Claudia woke up and, both hands on Sofie's chest, shoved her mother aside, muttering unhappily, ‘What're you doing, Mum? You're suffocating me.'

‘Was I?' Sofie asked, trying to sound innocent.

With a loud
grumpf
, Claudia thrashed around until her back faced Sofie.

Okay, well that didn't work.
Damn!

Hours later, groggy and bleary-eyed, Sofie dragged herself out of bed, trying hard not to disturb Claudia. She showered, brushed her teeth, moisturised, pushed a rake through her hair and added a little make-up. She'd much rather spend her morning in bed with Brock, but they hadn't found a breakfast chef yet. She couldn't wait until they did. Taking care of the bookwork for their estates and her art class was enough to keep her busy. Besides, she had Brock to play with and a house to build.

Shortly into the early morning shift, Brock came in, bright-eyed and happy. He was fresh, clean-shaven, and wearing the black, long-sleeved T-shirt that clearly defined his muscles. His jeans fit snug over thighs that flexed as he strode right into the kitchen. He didn't waste any time and wrapped Sofie in a bear hug. His smiling eyes penetrated hers, and he murmured, ‘I missed you.' He didn't wait for a reply, he simply claimed her with his mouth. Delicious heat swirled in Sofie's belly, turning her legs to jelly.

Sofie lost all time and space and went headlong into his kiss, all too aware that her nipples puckered, straining under her clothes, her body plastered against his hard abs, hips and groin. She let out a long groan-sigh, which made Brock tighten his hold and groan right back. His mouth hungry, fast and deep. His hands slowly roamed up to her ribs; and Sofie sucked in a breath. One hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushed back and forth across her nipple, for some reason the sensation more arousing because he stroked them over her T-shirt and bra. Yet still she couldn't wait for skin on skin. She had to face it, when it came to Brock, she was an excitable, passionate mess. His other hand moved up between her shoulder blades to her neck and into her hair; fingers spread wide, he held the back of her head.

On a long, pleasurable moan, Brock eased off, but only far enough so he could speak. ‘Morning,' he said, grinning, warm smouldering eyes capturing hers.

‘Hmm, I think I could get to like your mornings,' Sofie said, her gaze dipping to his mouth then back to his eyes.

‘You think?' He gave her a squeeze.

‘Okay, I know. And I more than
like
it.'

‘Good to hear. How did you sleep?'

‘Terrible.' Sofia couldn't stop her eyes from welling up. Brock became blurry and now she would have to explain why, which meant saying out loud something she reluctantly had to acknowledge, because it was just too awful; there was definitely a connection between what Jett had done and Claudia's behaviour.

Brock cupped her cheek as a lone tear slipped from her eye. He followed its trail and brushed it clean away with his thumb, then his soft mouth kissed her there. ‘I have an idea,' he began quietly, ‘it's partly selfish, but mostly it's to help you and Claudia. See if you can get her to come around to our place … tell her there's a big room she can have to herself. Tell her anything you need to get her there. We'll work on the rest as it happens.'

Our place?
Aching sweetness curled in Sofie's belly. ‘I know of something, but it's a big responsibility.'

‘Responsibility?' Brock's brow furrowed, and he asked, ‘How big are we talking? There's no room for a horse.'

She smiled, knowing that if he had room, Brock would go and find a nice horse somewhere. ‘It's not a horse. Claud loves animals and so far I've said no. It's not fair to have a pet when she's at school all day and I'm here or working on the accounts. I've asked Jen and it's okay, on the proviso she keeps it away from the restaurant. I haven't had time to look for one, but she'd love a kitten, something that will snuggle with her.'