Southern Sunset: Book One of 44 South

by Nicola Claire

  “Your supervision is not required for this,” Everett explained.

  “The hell it is; she’s my responsibility.”

  Everett shook his head. “She graduated Police College. Therefore she is required by law to assist in an IPCA investigation.”

  “Only if her senior officer approves the request,” Mac growled.

  “You are not the most senior officer, Senior Constable.”

  “Matt won’t go for it,” he immediately replied, looking smug.

  “Senior Sergeant Matt Drake has no say in this, as he is the one being investigated,” Everett said, looking pleased. “No, Probationary Constable Antil’s senior most officer is, of course, Sergeant Blackmore.”

  All eyes turned to Maggie.

  “You know your responsibility, Sergeant,” Everett said quietly. “Don’t let yourself down.”

  Maggie glared at the man. Definitely a history there. Was she working for him under duress?

  “The Board condones this?” Maggie enquired.

  “They have endorsed this investigation, yes.”

  “Has the senior sergeant been made aware of your presence in town?” she asked.

  “I have not had a reply to my repeated telephone messages,” Everett advised. I forced myself not to cringe. Bloody hell, Matt.

  “What exactly will this investigation entail?” Maggie pressed.

  “Interviews to start with. Nothing too taxing, I assure you.”

  Maggie let out a small huff of breath.

  “I’ll take your request under advisement,” she finally muttered.

  “Oh, no, that won’t do at all, Sergeant. And you know it. I must start my interviews now. Immediately. Any longer and stories could be fabricated, versions aligned.” He shook his head adamantly. “No. The interviews start today. Perhaps with you?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, Senior Investigator, but today is not good for me or Twizel Police Station staff.”

  “How so?” the pompous prick asked.

  “I have an appointment with a judge.” She did? “Mac and Annmarie are heading up to Christchurch to follow up on some evidence in an open case at ESR.” From the brief look of surprise on Mac’s face, I was thinking he wasn’t aware of this trip to the government’s forensics laboratory. “And Ms Cooper,” Maggie said, offering Sheila a smile to reassure her, “has personal obligations requiring her attention this afternoon. So, perhaps we can reschedule for tomorrow?”

  Everett stared at her for a long moment and then scowled his displeasure.

  “I see,” he said. “This will, of course, be included in my final report.”

  “What will be included?” Maggie politely asked. “The fact that we had pertinent prior engagements and were unable to drop everything on your unannounced arrival?”

  “You know damn well what I mean, Sergeant. This is The Declan King case all over again.”

  Maggie blanched and I suddenly knew her reactions were real. The Declan King case; it meant something to her. Something painful. I shifted closer to her, letting my arm press against her side. Letting my heat reach out and embrace her. Letting her know she wasn’t alone anymore.

  She never would be, if I could help it.

  Everett’s keen gaze took in my close proximity and his lips thinned. Beady little eyes stared at the place where Maggie’s and my body connected.

  “Mr Drake,” he said. “As I find myself with time to spare, perhaps you would be so kind as to share a coffee with me?”

  “I’m a farmer,” I said harshly. “I don’t have time for coffee.”

  “And yet you are here, socialising,” Everett guessed.

  “Mr Drake is helping us in an ongoing investigation,” Maggie supplied. “And his time is his own, as you no doubt are aware.”

  “Hmmm,” Everett murmured. And then he let out a breath of air and smiled.

  It was chilling and calculated and entirely too self-satisfied.

  “Then don’t let me hold you up,” he said, straightening his shirt cuffs. “I’ll just make myself comfortable here and start by going through the senior sergeant’s case files.”

  Mac stiffened. Maggie just glared at the man. But I saw the moment she realised he’d played them. The moment defeat entered her eyes.

  She hid it immediately and lifted her chin, then said, “Allow me to show you to a free desk, Senior Investigator.”

  “Brilliant,” he enthused. “But there’s no need for you to delay your appointments. I’m sure I can find my own way around the station. As you will remember, I am very experienced at ferreting out interesting nuggets of information.”

  Maggie’s breath left her in a hiss and then she nodded her head and turned on her heel, leading the way toward the storage room out back where the case files were kept. I stood there with a silent Mac, a nervous Annmarie, and a fuming Sheila. No one said a word.

  When Maggie returned five minutes later, laden down with manilla folders in her arms, we all followed her outside. Sheila placed the notice on the window that announced the station was currently unmanned and listed the pertinent numbers to ring for assistance, as we waited for Maggie to talk.

  The moment stretched, but I couldn’t have taken my eyes off her if I had tried. She was irate, I realised. There was no other word for it. And, fuck, was she glorious in her fury. Eyes bright, face hard, breath shallow and rapid. And her pulse? Thundering.

  Despite this latest turn of events, despite the clusterfuck that was my life right now, I couldn’t stop myself fantasising. Maggie was magnificent when riled.

  And when her eyes met mine, I knew. I’d do anything to keep this woman in my life.

  Chapter 29

  This Was Twizel

  Maggie

  It took several long seconds for me to be able to speak. That despicable man. That snake. That slimy, derogatory, self-important prick. I was so angry, I was panting.

  “Easy,” Luke suddenly said, his big, warm hand wrapping around the nape of my neck. “We should move, he could be watching.”

  “Fucking arsehole,” Mac spat.

  “We need to warn Matt,” Sheila practically wailed.

  “Leave Matt to me,” Luke said. “Maggie? What else?”

  As if I could formulate a plan.

  I cleared my throat and looked down at the folders in my hands. “This was all I could grab without him being aware of it,” I said. “Mac,” I handed him several from the top, “these are your current files from your desk. I signed you both out of your computers.”

  “Good call,” Mac said, taking the files and flicking through them. “They’re all here.” He looked at what was left in my hand. “Those can’t be all yours, Sergeant. You’ve hardly been here long enough to cause a stir.” There was an implied threat in there somewhere.

  “They’re not,” I admitted. “But they’re also files I don’t want that leech to get.”

  “He could just subpoena them,” Mac pointed out.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I replied.

  “What now?” Annmarie asked. “Do we really have to go to Christchurch?”

  “Yes,” I said on a huff of breath, flicking my fringe out of my eyes. “He’ll follow up on it. He’s very good at crossing his Ts and dotting his Is.”

  “And how do you know him?” Mac asked, a glint of suspicion in his hard eyes. I was surprised he hadn’t donned his mirrored sunglasses yet. But perhaps he wanted me to see the challenge.

  I met his glare with one of my own.

  “I’ve crossed paths with Senior Investigator Everett in Auckland. It did not go well for him.”

  Luke smiled off to the side; I forced myself to ignore the mesmerising sight.

  “Luke’s right, though,” I added. “We need to move. If he’s not watching already, he will be soon. You and Annmarie head up to Christchurch and follow up with ESR about that wallet.” Luke stiffened beside me. “While you’re there, I want you to call into Christchurch Central Police Station and touch base with
a Sergeant Parton. Tell her I sent you and ask her to give you everything she’s got on Everett.”

  “On Everett?” Mac asked. “Can’t you just call her?”

  “She never discusses IPCA over the phone or by email. It has to be a personal visit.”

  “You suspect him of something untoward?” Luke asked.

  “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him,” I replied. “Look, we need to move. You guys head on out and I’ll keep an eye on the slime bag.”

  “Slime bag,” Annmarie said. “Nice.”

  “And me?” Sheila asked.

  I offered her a smile and reached over to squeeze her hand. “Just hide, sweetie. Go home, lock your door, and don’t answer it for anyone.”

  “I can do that,” Sheila said with a decisive nod of her head. She hiked her handbag higher up on her shoulder and straightened her back. “If that man thinks he can storm in here and go after Matt, he has another bloody think coming.”

  “Thatta girl, Sheila,” Mac drawled.

  “Don’t hold back,” Annmarie agreed with a smirk.

  Sheila huffed and then levelled me with a worried stare. “You’ve got this, haven’t you, Maggie? You know how to stop this from unravelling, right?”

  I swallowed thickly. “Yes, Sheila. I’ve got this,” I lied.

  She smiled, it was crooked and not her usual dazzling display, and then she turned on her heel and marched off towards her car parked at the edge of the street.

  “You don’t got this, at all, do you, Sergeant?” Mac asked quietly.

  “In this, Mac,” I said, “be thankful I’m a JAFA. We Aucklanders know how to swim with the sharks, and IPCA’s Investigator Everett is just another fucking Aucklander with razor sharp teeth.”

  Mac huffed out a breath and pulled his shades from his front pocket, slipping them on. “Fucking JAFAs,” he groused. “Gotta be good for somethin’.”

  Annmarie offered me a small smile and then followed her training officer toward his ute, leaving me alone with Luke on the sidewalk.

  “Do you really have an appointment with a judge?” he asked.

  “No. But I’m expecting a phone call from one.”

  He laughed softly. “This is bad, isn’t, Maggie?”

  “Yes,” I said, not sugar coating it for him. He nodded his head, seemingly relieved I hadn’t hedged.

  Silence descended.

  “Will you hide too?” he finally asked. “Like Sheila,” he added.

  “Twizel needs to see us,” I said, looking off down the street. “Needs to know the local boys and girls in blue are present, even when they’re under a heavy cloud.”

  “But it’s Matt under that cloud, not you.”

  I turned and looked up at him. “Matt is ours,” I said simply.

  “I think you might mean that,” he whispered, and offered a small smile.

  I did, I realised. There was no proof of his innocence in Whiting’s murder. And that wallet was a big black mark hanging over his head. The poisoned sheep didn’t help, but also didn’t directly connect to Matt Drake. And then there was Missy’s suspicious death, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

  But none of it was solid evidence. None of it irrefutably proved his guilt. It was all circumstantial; even the wallet. There could be an explanation for how it got into his ute.

  But if Matt didn’t sort his shit out and soon, circumstantial could become just enough to convict. His behaviour was suspect. His name was on everyone’s lips. And now he was being investigated by the IPCA.

  I looked back up at Luke from where my gaze had wandered to and said, “You need to find Matt. Warn him.”

  “I know. I will. And you?”

  I let out a weary sigh. “I need a coffee.”

  Luke arched his brow.

  “And maybe a souvenir.”

  “OK,” he said slowly.

  I started walking toward my car, Luke slipped into step beside me.

  “Did you know,” I said conversationally, “that Alicia Parsons has cameras angled into her neighbour’s backyard.”

  “Maggie,” he said, laughing. “I didn’t take you for a gossip.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Sheila’s rubbing off on me.”

  Mr Marinkovich chose that moment to back his mechanic’s truck into the driveway across the street. Sliding down from the driver’s side without so much as a glance in our direction, he proceeded to pull out a heavy, wrapped object from the back.

  I stopped beside my car and watched him. Luke leaned back against the vehicle and did the same. Marinkovich heaved the oblong shaped object up onto a surprisingly large shoulder, tattooed muscles bulging, face straining, and then turned around and hauled it into his garage.

  “Transmission,” Luke said succinctly.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “What else could it be?”

  I started to laugh. This was Twizel. I couldn’t even begin to guess.

  Chapter 30

  Could My Life Get Anymore Complicated?

  Luke

  Watching Maggie drive off was disquieting. Hell, I seemed to be watching her drive away a lot, lately. It amused me that I stood there for so fucking long staring after the retreating rear end of her police issue sedan. I shook my head at myself and then pulled out my cell phone.

  I didn’t expect to get an answer; Matt was officially AWOL. Out of desperation, I left a curt message. “It’s me. Get in touch.” Then swiped the call closed.

  Looking back over my shoulder, I stared at the closed door to the police station, and then spun back towards my ute. As I pulled away from the kerb, my cell phone rang. For a pathetic moment, I thought it might be Matt returning my call. But Charlie’s name came up on the screen.

  Work; a distraction I both craved and resented. But maybe Charlie had seen Matt on the station. I answered with an abrupt, “Yes?”

  “Boss, you need to see this.”

  What now? “What do I fucking need to see, Charlie?”

  “Today’s edition of the Timaru Herald on display at the Musterer’s Hut.”

  Jesus. “What’s it say?”

  “Nothing good,” he admitted. “Red Tussock’s name’s in capital letters on the front page.”

  “Fuck! Haven’t they got bigger fish to fry than us?”

  “Doesn’t seem like it. And that bitch, Tanya Ruka, won’t take it down. I asked.”

  “Tanya’s not a bitch,” I automatically replied.

  “Just because she sucked your dick once or twice don’t make her ‘not a bitch.’”

  “Fucking hell, Charlie. What’s got into you?”

  He sighed. “I don’t much like Red Tussock being dragged through Matt’s shit.”

  Charlie had never really got along with Matt, but he hadn’t ever been this vocal about his dislike of my brother. My turn to sigh.

  “What are you doing in town anyway?” I finally asked.

  “Can’t a man have a lunch break when he needs one?”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. Charlie was even more prickly than usual. But seeing Red Tussock written in newsprint on the front of Tanya’s café would probably put any hardworking man into a snit. And Charlie had always been a bit volatile.

  “All right, all right,” I said, once the phone was back to my ear. “But that fence isn’t going to repair itself.”

  “You got the palings?”

  “Yeah, on the back of my truck.”

  “I’ll see you back on station, then.”

  “Sure. I’ll just swing by the Musterer’s and see what’s up with Tanya.”

  Charlie snorted. “More like what’s up with you.”

  “Tanya and I are long over.”

  “Sure, that’s why she’s hanging out your dirty laundry on Main Street.”

  Charlie hung up after that little gem. I ran a hand over my face and scratched at my stubble. Sometimes managing people was more difficult than managing livestock. I clenched my fingers around the steering whe
el and took the turn off back into the centre of town. Tanya’s café was down by the Chemist. I wondered if I’d see any of those cameras Maggie had been talking about.

  The store was bustling when I got there. Of course it was. Tourists, locals, and even a few of Red Tussock’s neighbours. Didn’t anyone work on their fucking stations anymore? I paused at the front window and stared at the taped up article cut from the front page of the Timaru Herald. Red Tussock was typewritten right there in bold print, just like Charlie had said. James Whiting’s death was mentioned, but not the dead sheep. At this stage, it was all about the location. The reporter had speculated that James Whiting might have been on our rangeland for an appointment or to check on stock he was interested in representing. But it was all hearsay and conjecture. Nothing solid.

  For a second, I wondered why Charlie had made such a fuss. Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the front doors into organised chaos. Tanya stood behind the display counter, louder than life; brassy, brash, and beautiful. Her eyes met mine as soon as the door swung shut at my back.

  “The man of the moment!” she called out, a genuine smile spreading her cheeks. “Get over here and tell us all the gossip, Drake. What’s it like being on the front page of the Herald?”

  “Annoying,” I growled, walking through the parted throng to greet her. “And what the hell are you doing working for the press?”

  “Just spreading the news, Luke. Just spreading the news.” A pastime Tanya was too damn good at, giving Sheila a run for her money.

  “Take it down, Tanya,” I said more quietly, once I’d reached her.

  “Now, why would I do that? Look at what it’s done for business.” She indicated the mass of customers in her shop, either eating, ordering, or lining up to choose a home-baked slice of heaven.

  “Tans,” I said, resorting to our former close acquaintance. “It might be good for you, but it’s shit for me, OK?”

  She softened slightly and then she was smiling again as she looked over my shoulder towards someone at my back.