The Kiera Hudson Prequels 2

by Tim O'Rourke

  With my eyes still on the couple on the other side of the bar, I slowly sat down again.

  “You promised me you were going to finish with her,” the woman spat. “You told me it was me you loved, not her.”

  I glanced at Tom. I wanted to say I told you so, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Sit down,” the man hissed. “Everyone is watching us.”

  “Good!” the woman yelled, yanking her arm free of her husband’s grip. “I want them to see what a lying cheat I’m married to. If you don’t tell Lorraine to piss off, then I will.”

  “Please, just sit down, Melinda,” the man said. He glanced over at me and Tom, then back at his sobbing wife. He eased her back down into the chair. Part of me hoped she’d hit him again.

  “Do you want a divorce…?” she cried.

  “No,” he tried to reason with her.

  “Good, because I would never give you one,” the woman snapped.

  “Poor cow,” Tom said under his breath, turning away, now that the fight had calmed down.

  Then, in a flood of tears, Melinda pushed her chair back from the table and stood up again. Sobbing, she ran across the bar and up the stairs. The man shot Tom and me another quick glance, then left the bar in pursuit of his wife.

  I looked at Tom and him at me.

  “What were you trying to say before that row started?” I asked him.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he sighed.

  Tom

  Had the row between the man and his wife saved me from a world of embarrassment? I had just been about to tell Kiera that perhaps my feelings for her had changed – become confused somehow. It had been on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I thought I liked her more than just a friend. But the sudden argument between the woman named Melinda and her cheating husband had broken the moment. Cast away the spell the wine, good food and the warming fire had created.

  “What were you trying to say before that row started?” Kiera asked me, her eyes never leaving mine. Kiera’s bright hazel eyes seemed to see right through me. As if she could see into my soul somehow. Sometimes it made me feel uncomfortable, as if she was reading me like she read a crime scene. Sometimes to be looked at by her was nice. But now it just made me feel uncomfortable. I looked away at the dancing flames in the nearby fireplace.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I sighed.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said, her voice soft.

  I couldn’t tell her. It would probably spoil our friendship, and I really didn’t want to do that. So looking away from the fire and back at her, I smiled and said, “So where do you think you’ll be posted to when we leave training school?”

  Kiera shrugged as if half expecting me to ask her something else. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t mind where I get sent, as long as it’s not the Ragged Cove,” I said with a shudder.

  “Where’s that?” Kiera asked.

  “On the furthest tip of the coast,” I said. “Apparently, the town is miles away from anywhere.”

  “You make it sound like some kind of ghost town,” Kiera half smiled. But I could see by the way her eyes sparkled in her pale pretty face that I had caught her interest and imagination.

  “It might as well be,” I said, dropping my voice to a whisper.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, leaning in close across the table. I caught the faintest hint of the shampoo she had used on her thick, black hair and the soap she had used on her soft skin. It was more intoxicating than the wine. I felt a sudden urge to tell her how crazily happy she made me feel, but instead, I leant back in my chair and said, “I’ve heard that most of the new recruits sent to the Ragged Cove don’t stay long.”

  “What, they quit the force?” Kiera asked, her eyes shining so bright.

  “Some say they just disappear,” I whispered. “Never to be seen again.”

  “Have these disappearances been investigated?” Kiera asked, her practical self as always.

  I glanced back over my shoulder to make sure the waitress wasn’t standing close by. Then, looking back at Kiera, I said, “Some say there has been a cover-up.”

  “A cover-up?” Kiera breathed. “By whom?”

  “The senior management team. The top brass at force headquarters,” I continued to whisper.

  “And who told you all this?” Kiera asked.

  “Constable John Miles,” I told her.

  “Sparky, you mean?” she asked.

  “I know his nickname is Sparky because he isn’t the brightest officer on the course,” I explained. “But I’ve heard other officers talking about the Ragged Cove too. The rumours are all the same.”

  “Well, if I’m to be honest it’s just the kind of place I’d like to get sent to,” Kiera said, sitting back in her seat.

  “Now, how did I know you were going to say that?” I smiled.

  “The whole place sounds like one big mystery waiting to be solved,” she said.

  “It sounds like a whole lot of trouble to me,” I told her.

  “We might both get sent to this town called the Ragged Cove,” Kiera smiled at me.

  “I don’t think that will happen,” I said, not even wanting to hope for such a thing for one moment. Any future disappointment would be crushing.

  “Why not?” Kiera asked with a shrug. “You and I would have the mystery of the Ragged Cove solved in no time.”

  “Phillips can’t seem to bear the thought of me and you texting each other,” I reminded her. “You don’t think he is going to send us to the same posting once we leave training school, do you?”

  “If the rumours are true about the Ragged Cove, then what two better officers to send?” Kiera said, with a half-smile.

  “And that’s the very reason they won’t send us,” I said, staring back at her.

  “And what’s that?” Kiera asked.

  “If what Sparky and the other recruits say is true, our senior officers don’t want the mystery of the Ragged Cove solved, they just want to cover it up.”

  Kiera sat and looked at me as if deep in thought. I looked at how the firelight made her raven black hair shimmer almost blue, and how her red lips looked so very kissable.

  I suddenly pushed my chair back from the table and stood up before I let the wine make me say something stupid – something I would later regret. “I think I might just go to bed.”

  “Really?” Kiera said, sounding a little surprised.

  “I’m dead beat,” I lied.

  “Me, too, I guess,” she said, standing up.

  Together we left the bar and went to our separate rooms.

  Kiera

  I woke with a start the following morning. Someone was knocking on my door. Clawing hair from my face where it lay matted and tangled, I groaned and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I padded to the door in my pyjamas. It was barely light outside, and I guessed it must be before 7 a.m. What was the point in taking a break from things if you couldn’t even have a lay-in?

  “Who is it?” I asked, the side of my face to the door as the knocking came again.

  “It’s me, Tom.”

  Trying to straighten my hair, I opened the door a fraction and peered through the gap at him.

  “What’s the time?” I croaked, eyes still half shut. He looked wide awake.

  “Six-thirty,” he beamed, bright-eyed.

  “You’re kidding me,” I sighed, just wanting to climb back into bed. My head still felt a little fuzzy from the wine I had drunk the night before.

  “I thought we could go for an early morning walk. Build up an appetite for breakfast,” he said.

  “Why?” I mumbled, struggling to become fully awake. I didn’t share Tom’s enthusiasm for taking a brisk early morning walk in the freezing cold.

  “I thought we could walk down onto the beach and watch the sun come up,” he said, taking a flask from his back. “And share this lovely hot flask of tea.”

  “Where did you get that?” I asked.

  “That
young waitress made it up for me,” he said.

  “Been working your charms again?” I asked.

  “Like magic,” he grinned back at me.

  How could I refuse? “Give me ten minutes.”

  “And you might need this,” he said, holding up my bottle of shower gel in his other hand.

  I snatched it from him and closed the door.

  Tom was waiting by the bar at the foot of the stairs. With the collar of my coat pulled up and my hands thrust into my coat pockets, we made for the door. It was just getting light as we stepped out into the cold. A chill wind blew hard across the fields that stretched away from the small car park. The stars were fading in the sky and a thin ribbon of orange glowed on the horizon where the sun was slowly rising.

  “It’s so peaceful,” I whispered, the soft howl of the wind circling us. “The sky looks beautiful.”

  “But that doesn’t look so beautiful,” Tom said, stepping away and heading toward his car.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

  “Someone has pranged my car,” he said, bending low and inspecting a dent in the back. “Look at that, can you believe it?”

  I looked at the dent that had scratched and removed the paint beneath the bumper of his car. Turning, I began to inspect my own car in the light shining through the inn windows.

  “What are you doing?” Tom said, straightening up and looking at me.

  “Checking to see if my car has been hit too,” I said.

  Tom looked at me then at my beat up old Mini. “Kiera, that thing could have been hit by a tank and you wouldn’t be able to tell. There isn’t a part of it that isn’t scratched or dented. You’re not a secret Demolition Derby driver are you?”

  “Yeah, very funny, Tom,” I said, straightening up. “I love my little car. Okay, so it looks like a piece of junk, but it gets me from A to B. That’s all I need it for.”

  “It looks like a death trap,” he said.

  “You’re just mad because someone has hit your car and driven off,” I said. “It can be fixed. Besides, I thought we were going to sit on the beach and drink tea while we watch the sunrise, not stand out here inspecting our cars.”

  “It’s just that…” Tom started, scowling back at his car.

  “C’mon,” I said, offering him my arm.

  He looked back at me. Then, hooking his arm through mine, we made our way in the direction of the beach.

  We crossed the barren land before the inn. It was covered in a coarse grass which came up to our knees. The nagging wind bent it to and fro. The sky grew lighter with every step we took in the direction of the shore. As we grew closer to the cliffs ahead of us, I could hear the faint roar of the waves crashing into them. The wind blew my hair back off my shoulders. Arm in arm, me and Tom reached a narrow path that wound its way along the cliff edge. We stopped and looked out across the ocean. The rising sun shone its orange glow off the black churning waves, making them look like molten lava. With my feet close to the cliff edge, I peered down. Giant black waves crashed into the jagged rocks below.

  “Let’s keep going,” Tom said, moving off, his arm still through mine. “We might find a way down onto the beach.

  We walked further along the coastal path, and just when I thought we were the only people in the world, I saw what looked like a car parked ahead of us. As we drew closer, I could see a red sports car parked on a flat sandy piece of ground in the distance. The sun cast enough light now for me to see it clearly. The headlights were out, but I could see the outline of two people within the car.

  “See, I wasn’t the only one mad enough to want to come out and watch the sunrise,” Tom said.

  The path we were following led us right toward the car. As we got closer to it, I could see the shapes in the front of the car moving around, it looked like two people were making out. I looked away and back out across the ocean, as I didn’t want to pry. As we passed along the sand-covered path, Tom nudged me in the ribs with his elbow.

  “Hey, look who it is,” he whispered over the screech of the wind. “Looks like they made up.”

  “Who?” I said, shooting a discreet sideways glance at the car. The man and woman we had seen arguing in the bar the night before were in the car. She had her back to us, as the man held her in his arms. They were passionately kissing. He had his eyes closed as he ran his hands through her long, blonde hair. Suddenly, the man opened his eyes and looked over her shoulder and straight at me. Feeling embarrassed that I had been caught watching them kissing, I looked away again. Tom pulled at my arm and we continued along the path.

  “I wouldn’t have forgiven him so easily,” I said as we reached a point in the path where it split.

  “Like you said, Kiera, she loves him,” Tom remarked, taking the split in the path that led down onto the beach.

  “Love has to work two ways,” I said. “It can’t be just one-sided.”

  “I guess you can’t help who you fall in love with,” Tom said glancing at me then quickly away again.

  We reached the beach. Tom found a little outcrop of rock that sheltered us from the wind. Unlinking arms we sat down on the sand. I drew my knees up, resting my chin on my hands. I watched the waves rush up the shore, bringing with it stringy lumps of black seaweed. Tom poured the tea. He handed me the plastic cup first. I warmed my hands against it as I took a sip. It was sweet and hot.

  “If Phillips could see us now,” Tom smiled mischievously.

  “I don’t want to talk about him right now,” I said.

  “So what do you want to talk about?” Tom asked.

  I handed him the cup of tea so he could have his share. “I’m just happy to sit and watch the sunrise. Doesn’t it look beautiful?” I breathed.

  Tom looked out across the ocean. Seagulls squawked as they circled overhead, their white wings shimmering gold in the autumn sunlight. We sat silently next to each other in the sand and drank the tea. When it was finished, Tom replaced the cap on the flask.

  “So do you think she is foolish for forgiving her husband?” Tom asked, looking out over the waves and not at me.

  “That lady in the car, Melinda, you mean?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not for me to say,” I said. “But all I know is that I wouldn’t want to be in love with a man like that.”

  There was a short pause. Tom picked up a fistful of sand and let it dribble through his fingers. “What kind of guy do you see yourself falling in love with?” Tom eventually asked.

  “I guess I won’t know until I meet him,” I said.

  “Oh,” Tom said, sounding a little deflated.

  I looked at him. “Are you okay, Tom?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said, smiling at me, but it looked a little forced. Then springing to his feet, he added, “Come on, let’s get back to the inn. I’m starving. That young waitress said there’s eggs and bacon for breakfast.”

  Tom took me by the hand, pulling me to my feet. “You and that waitress,” I teased. “You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?”

  “I don’t have a thing for her,” Tom said.

  “Who then?” I teased further.

  “I’ll guess I’ll let you know when I meet her,” Tom sighed, setting off up the beach in the direction of the inn. As we made our way back along the coastal path, I couldn’t help but notice that Melinda and her husband had gone.

  Tom and I sat at the same table we had the night before. The pretty waitress brought more tea. Tom thanked her, and I kicked him under the table. He blushed. He did like her. I could see it a mile off. I doubted Tom would have the courage to ask for her number, despite his sometimes cocksure attitude. She would be a lucky girl if he did. Tom was a cute guy, with abs to die for. I wouldn’t mind having a guy like Tom asking for my number. But I knew he only thought of me as a friend, despite him telling the innkeeper I was pretty. But that was good. We should remain just friends. We both had police exams to pass, and neither of us needed any further distractions than
the ones that had already come our way. Perhaps that was the true reason Sergeant Phillips had wanted to keep me and Tom apart? Relationships between police recruits was frowned upon as it diverted our attention away from our studies. But whatever Phillips’ true motive was for wanting to keep me and Tom apart, I would keep my feelings in check for Tom. Besides, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of Tom, as I knew he saw me solely as his mystery solving partner and nothing else.

  We were still waiting for the waitress to bring our breakfasts when the door to the inn suddenly flew open and the man we had seen kissing his wife came staggering in. His face was white and drawn. Gasping for breath, he dropped into the nearest chair. Both the waitress and the innkeeper came running from behind the bar and stood before the man.

  “You’ve got to help me,” he said trying to catch his breath.

  “What’s happened, Mr. Took?” the innkeeper asked him.

  “It’s Melinda,” Mr. Took panted. “She’s had an accident.”

  “What kind of accident?” the waitress said.

  With his eyes bulging, Mr. Took looked at her and said, “Melinda has fallen over the cliff edge and into the sea. I think she’s dead.”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth, Tom and me were on our feet and crossing the bar toward him.

  “Where did this happen?” Tom asked.

  “Near to where you saw Melinda and me parked this morning,” he said, looking at Tom, then at me.

  “Go and fetch Mr. Took some water,” The innkeeper told the waitress. She did as she was asked as the innkeeper went to the bar and snatched up the phone.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” I said, looking at Mr. Took. He sat forward in the seat, his brow covered with sweat despite the cold.

  “I think it is obvious after what happened in the bar last night that me and Melinda had quarrelled over some personal matters,” Mr. Took started to explain. “But we talked all night, sorting out our differences. Just before daybreak we had found a resolution between us and decided to go and watch the sun come up. It’s what people who are in love do, isn’t it?”