by Lee Winter
“And after you see him, come and find me.”
“I may not be in the mood to talk.”
“Then we won’t talk. Will you come anyway?”
“Okay.” Sam heaved out a breath. “I don’t want to think about this anymore now. Take my mind off it? Tell me: How many places have you been to? Where have you visited?”
“Hmm… Well, let’s see. I’ve been all over Europe. I’ve also visited Singapore, Japan, Vietnam, the US, of course, and would you believe, the Sahara?”
“The Sahara? Seriously?”
“I made this film about climate change not too long ago, A Quiver in Time. I needed some footage involving a local tribe and quiver trees.” She waited. Everyone always laughed at the quiver trees. But seriously, when your water-storing succulents die off, the whole ecosystem gets in strife. That was important.
No laughs from Sam. She just nodded. “Where else?”
“Lord Howe Island. I think that’s probably most similar to New Zealand, at least climate-wise. Not to mention the richness of greenery, the close-knit people, and the gorgeous waterfalls.”
“Nowhere’s as beautiful as Wairere Falls, though,” Sam said with certainty.
“Is that so, proud local?” Alex poked her ribs. “And how would you know?” she teased.
“I’m a Kiwi. We just know these things,” Sam declared.
“Really,” Alex drawled.
“Yup.”
“It’d be very weird for you, wouldn’t it, if you were no longer able to be a cop in Ika Whenu?”
“I suppose,” Sam conceded. “But at least the main thing I wanted to fix is now sorted. The meth.”
“It is?”
“That’s the reason I was up so late to start with last night—there was a raid. I wanted to know how it went. The Hornets were all arrested. The meth supply in Ika Whenu and the whole the Waikato region just got cut off.”
“Well that’ll win you big brownie points with your boss, won’t it? That’s all because of you, isn’t it?”
“In part.”
“We could protest, you know, if you got fired. All those people who saw the live feed, who fell in love with your bravery, we could whip up a PR campaign to save your job. I’m sure the locals would rally around, too. I know you do a lot for this town and these people who expect so much from you. But they know it, too. They’d stand with you.”
“Maybe. But getting more attention will get the brass even more pissed off.” Sam closed her eyes. “I’ll just see where my cards fall. All I can do now.”
CHAPTER 24
Judgment Day
Outside the New Zealand Police Commissioner’s office, Sam checked her uniform’s sharp lines down the pale blue short sleeves and needle-fine creases in her navy pants.
“You can sit if you’d like, Senior Constable.” The commissioner’s personal assistant indicated the guest chairs. “He’s running fifteen minutes late.”
“I’m fine. Been sitting too long as it is.”
Sam wondered how long this meeting would take. Would her boss just fire her on the spot? If so, he could have gotten someone else to do that. Maybe he wanted to read her the riot act first? Was there a lot of precedent for this? Cops caught on live video in a bikie brawl they’d brought on themselves?
Gazing at the giant windows, broken up by strips of beige wall, Sam wished for a distraction. What was Alex doing right now?
In the early hours of this morning, she’d been like a beacon, drawing Sam in. On the hour-long flight from Hamilton to Wellington, remembering how wicked Alex’s mouth and hands had been, how teasing and skilled, had been a pleasant distraction from fixating on all the creative ways her boss might fire her.
“Commissioner Fraser will see you now.”
Sam nodded and marched through the doors into the office on less than steady legs.
As she took in her boss’s minimalist office with its view over the nation’s capital, she wondered again why a nobody cop from a provincial backwater was even in the man’s presence.
Commissioner Fraser greeted her then nudged a plate of ham sandwiches her way. “Hungry?”
She stared at them and then back at him. “No. Thanks.” Her mouth was dry. “I’m fine.”
“Probably a wise choice.” He smiled. “They’re from the staff cafe.”
She nodded politely.
“So, Senior Constable Keegan.” He flipped through her file. “You’ve put us in a bit of a tough situation, eh? I know we talked briefly on the phone, but it bears repeating. Trying to single-handedly raid a compound full of bikies and attack dogs—”
“Sir, I—”
“No.” He lifted a stilling finger at her. “I’ve read your report, so I know what you’re going to say, but no. First, all motorcycle gangs see official police visits as raids, whether we do or not. And those dogs were trained to attack regardless of whether they mauled your person or not.”
She bit her lip.
He continued. “Brought a civilian along to document proceedings. I cannot tell you how inconvenient that was.” He gave her a narrow look. “We’ve had media interest on this incident from all around the world.”
“Um, she brought herself along,” Sam said. “I wasn’t initially even aware Alex was there.”
“Alex. That would be…Alexandra Levitin. A movie director,” he noted, shuffling through his papers. He shifted his gaze back to her. “So you know her?”
Her cheeks warmed. Biblically? Sure. “I’ve met her a few times, yes. She’s filming a movie in our neck of the woods.”
“Well, it was so nice of her to be so comprehensive in sharing her video. Half a million views now.” He thrummed his fingers against the table.
Half a million? Holy… “Yes, sir.”
“Your brother then turned up and started throwing his fists around. One…” He consulted his notes. “Sidney Mahuta.”
“Yes, sir.” Sam shifted impatiently.
“So, while it’s all very amusing to the public, your actions have made New Zealand Police look like amateur hour. The Opposition Leader asked in Parliament whether funding’s so short in regional stations that officers have to feed the criminals’ dogs and drag their brothers along on raids. The Police Minister loved having to answer that question.”
I’ll bet, she thought, wondering what his reply had been.
“Your report states you had cause to believe the Wild Boars had a drug-manufacturing operation underway, and were also sabotaging those movie people.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Both allegations proved unfounded, correct?”
Sam inhaled. “They did, yes. But my intervention did lead to intel that dismantled the Hornets’ methamphetamine operations throughout the Waikato region last night. I was able to ascertain who the manufacturers were and when the next drop would be and the drug squad intercepted it and performed various raids.”
“I’m aware.” He tilted his head. “I’d say well done but, overall, it wasn’t really, was it? Everything you did was ham-fisted, risky, short-sighted, and failed to follow procedure.”
Technically correct.
“You endangered the lives of multiple civilians,” the commissioner went on. “And you could have gotten yourself and them badly injured or killed.”
Also technically correct.
“It was reckless and frankly, I have no recourse but to officially censure you for it. There is no way we can say what you did was acceptable behavior, or we’d have every officer thinking they can play Rambo. Of course it’d have been much easier to deal with this discreetly if there hadn’t been that video.” His lips pursed. “But it’s everywhere. So…”
Sam wiped her hands down her pants surreptitiously. Here it comes.
“You’ll no longer be allowed to run a regional police station. Keep your nose clean,
and in a few years you might be eligible again.”
She wasn’t being fired? “Yes, sir.”
“Officers with your experience, and the skill to hold their own against a violent motorcycle gang, do not grow on trees and I’m not about to throw that away, especially when we have a recruitment shortfall. How you went about this was not ideal, but you’re not a bad officer. Your record is otherwise exemplary.”
O-kay?
He shot her a wry look. “Besides, how would that play to the masses? We can’t demote you. You’ve become a hero out in the burbs. Your bravery’s inspirational. Recruitment’s up. People want to be you. I know, I know, they’re delusional if they think braining bikies is what policing is. But still, you’re somewhat valuable to us.”
“How? I mean, I can’t run my station now.” Would she be some grunt posted somewhere else?
He turned and waved at the poster behind his head that read, NZ Police Recruiting Now! “You like to make a difference, right? Well, I think you’d make a great new poster girl for New Zealand Police. We’re looking at doing an international ad campaign. Get some of the Aussies, Canadians, and Brits to give it a go over here. What do you think? Job’s based here in Wellington. You’d have to move.”
Sam looked at him, then the poster—with some grinning young recruit on it—then back to him. “You want me to give up my station, move to the city, and sell the wonders of policing? And I’d what? Just do media interviews, pose for photos, and talk up policing all day long?”
“Essentially.”
“How would that look to other officers? Me becoming a poster girl for ‘playing Rambo?’”
“The consequences will be made well known internally—that for all your high profile, you’re now no longer an active-duty police officer.” His gaze was sharp.
My career is over then.
“If you say no, we can find you something else, but it’d be around the bottom of the pecking order. At least this way the pay and office are better.”
“As a poster girl.”
“As the face of New Zealand Police.” His gaze sharpened. “That’s nothing to sneer at. Besides, I know what those small regional stations are like. They’re stressful as hell. Especially the one-officer ones.” He gave her an aggrieved look. “And if I didn’t know, there’s this persistent doctor in Te Aroha who keeps sending me her long damned reports.”
Go Dr. Linn. “Right.”
“But the bottom line is we don’t have enough police to go around. And as for non-sworn Authorized Officers, well, hell, I wish we had more civilian AO recruits to plug the gaps, too, but we don’t. We’re doing the best we can with limited resources. Which brings us back to my offer. You could do more good for New Zealand Police as our recruiter than you could doing on-the-ground policing. Imagine how much pressure you could take off those smaller stations if we had a lot more police to spread around? And you’re just the woman to make it happen.”
“I’d be little more than a face stuck on a poster, though.”
“You’d work with our media and publicity department, do whatever they need best. That’s why I asked you here, so you could meet them, do the full tour and so on. Why? Do you have any better offers?” His smile was faint but all-too-knowing.
Sam didn’t appreciate that one bit. How condescending. Did he really think he had her over a barrel? Sounded like it. “I might explore my other options,” she said tersely, and made to rise.
He looked genuinely surprised. “Senior Constable? If you walk out now, the offer’s off the table for good.”
“I can’t be what you want me to be here. That’s not me. Besides, I need to be based in Ika Whenu. I have responsibilities.”
“Are you…resigning?” His shock was almost worth it. Funny how powerful, career-climbing people always assumed what motivated them, motivated everyone.
“You leave me little option, sir, given Ika Whenu only has one police posting and I won’t be in it.” Hell, even if she wasn’t needed at home, re-starting her career at the bottom again as a disgraced junior shit-kicker based who knows where didn’t hold any appeal. Sam paused as an idea struck her. “But were you serious before? About helping regional stations?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, I have a proposal. A win-win solution. And you’ll get your recruitment pin-up after all.”
CHAPTER 25
Confessions
Alex trudged back to her trailer after work to find a slightly crumpled Sam in her police uniform, sitting on the steps.
“Sam?”
She looked up, her expression distant.
“How’d it go with the Police Commissioner?”
Sam didn’t reply.
“Oh, love, okay. Let’s talk inside,” Alex murmured. She punched in her code, opened the door, and waited.
Sam headed in.
Alex followed and closed the door behind them. “Sam?”
Sam’s lips were on hers almost immediately, frantic and heated.
“Oh?” Alex’s eyebrows rose. “Well, hello there, Senior Constable.”
That earned her a warning nip at her earlobe.
Alex smiled into her neck. “Want to talk about it?”
Shrugging, Sam mumbled, “I lost my job today.”
“Sam!” Alex pulled away.
“No, it’s not like that.” Sam eyed her for a moment, then glanced away. “I quit.”
“Quit?”
“They took my station off me. I’m no longer Ika Whenu’s…anything.” She ran a hand through her hair.
“That isn’t fired, though. Where are they sending you?”
“They offered me a desk job that’d mean I was little more than the face of New Zealand Police on posters.” Sam scowled. “Police Barbie.”
“You know, you’d be an effective recruitment tool,” Alex suggested lightly. “I’d sign up immediately.”
“You’re biased.” Sam rolled her eyes.
“That’s true. Besides, I doubt New Zealand Police would let my sparrow ass anywhere near a police uniform. One stiff breeze and all that.”
Sam almost smiled that time.
“You’re allowed to laugh at my hilarious jokes, you know.”
“I’ll bear that in mind when you make one.”
“Ha-ha.” Alex leaned forward for a kiss. “Well, what would you like? To talk some more? To be flung down for unforgettable sex? A soothing massage? Go out to dinner?”
Sam chuckled. “Just picturing you trying to fling me anywhere. I’ve got a good deal more muscle mass on you. And I won’t mention the height difference.”
“Better not if you know what’s good for you.” Alex grinned. “Would you like to see if I could?”
“I’ve seen you try to lift Tiger. That ended well.” This time Sam laughed.
“A bike doesn’t do what you ask it to,” Alex countered saucily. “I bet you would.”
“Can’t deny it.” Sam’s eyes flicked toward the bedroom.
“That’s what I thought.” Alex smiled and led Sam to her bed. She turned and sized up her lover. “As hot as you look in that uniform, right now, it’s in the way.” Even so, Alex spent an admiring few minutes mapping out its sharp creases and lines with her fingertips. Finally she popped the clear, small buttons of Sam’s crisp sky-blue shirt, before tugging the material from navy pants. She parted the shirt, just a little. Sam’s sports bra and a long strip of skin came into view.
Sam lowered a hand to her large black utility belt and, with slow, trembling fingers, undid it.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked, as she drew the shirt reverently off Sam’s shoulders,
“I just realized. Today’s the last time I’ll ever wear this. End of an era.”
“Start of a new one?” Alex suggested. “We don’t have to do this. If you’re not in the moo—”
“You’re all I could think about on the ride back from the airport,” Sam interrupted. “All I wanted.” Her eyes were dark. “I need—” She stopped.
“This?”
“You.” Sam kicked off her boots in two thuds, skidding them down the trailer’s length. Then she wrenched down her uniform pants and tossed them in the same direction. She straightened, now only in her underwear. Then, with a casual yank, she tore off her bra, and dropped her boy-shorts to the ground, kicking them aside.
What a canvas she was, muscles and planes. Leanness and beauty. Alex drank in her body. “I’ll never get used to seeing you like this. Beautiful.”
“Nah, I’m all muscles and sinew, like someone made a scarecrow out of crowbars.” Her hands reached for Alex and deftly peeled her out of her clothing. “You’re the beauty. How did you get to be so flawless?” She trailed fingertips over Alex’s bare body.
Alex looked down. She was paler than paper. Her stomach was soft and flat, lacking the muscled leanness of Sam’s. Her breasts were small—tiny handfuls topped by the palest pink points. Goosebumps broke out across her arms under those watchful eyes. “I’m not—”
“You are to me. I love how delicate you are. All the things I’m not. Gentle, warm, soft…fine, like porcelain.”
“I’m not fragile, though.” Alex shot her a warning look. “Don’t you dare go gentle on me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sam chuckled. She dropped onto the bed and lay back, legs naturally falling apart in a casual, sexy invitation. “Anyway, didn’t you say you were going to ravish me?”
“True.” Alex admired Sam’s impressive body, then knelt before her on the bed. Her voice became mischievous. “That’s definitely the plan.”
For a moment, neither spoke. Sam’s breath caught and held, and her smile fell away.
Alex’s eyes locked onto Sam’s burning ones as their excitement rose. She slid forward, fitting herself between Sam’s legs, pushing them wider. She played with the softness of Sam’s pale inner thighs, using backs of knuckles and nails, barely touching, until wetness gleamed, and slippery flesh swelled and reddened. Alex’s hot breath shifted Sam’s short blonde hairs, matted with slickness, as Sam’s body jerked and arched, desperately seeking more contact.