by Jennie Jones
‘How should I know?’ Luke said. ‘I’m just the officer in charge.’
Rachel stifled another grin as her love for him swelled. He was slightly taller than Jack, as broad as Solomon and, as far as she was concerned, more handsome than all of them put together. And it looked like his super-sized patience had reached the end of its tether.
‘So we’re all safe?’ Will said, clocking Jax and Rosita. ‘Where’s Billy?’
‘Cell three,’ Luke said. ‘And as soon as we find Morrison and bring in the builders—I’m going home. I might never come back.’
‘Scone, anyone?’ Mary called out from down the corridor. ‘We found the jam—but this kitchen is in shocking disarray. Amelia’s making some notes on healthier eating and pantry organisation.’
Luke hung his head. ‘This is so not going by the book.’
Twenty-Two
Luke walked out of his office with Jack on his heels. They’d discussed their next move and were about to head to the museum and nab the builders.
‘Where the hell are your operation detectives?’ he asked Jack.
‘Kalgirri. Word got out that you were on the op so I told them I was coming up to visit you to check that you were handling this the way we wanted you to.’
Luke gave his fiercest frown. He frowned so hard it hurt.
‘I know,’ Jack said. ‘It was bullshit. I needed to keep them away, and I wanted to help you out. I said it would be easy for me to be seen flying in for a quick visit with my old buddy, and that if they accompanied me, those around town who are here for nefarious reasons would get an alarm bell, and it’d be bye-bye bad guys. They fell for it.’
Probably because Luke was a uniformed cop and they wanted the clever detective to sort out the wooden top senior sergeant. It pissed him off more than he could express, but Jack had done the right thing, and the clever detectives hadn’t cottoned on.
‘You’ll be in more trouble now than you were before,’ he said, his voice less bitter.
‘I’m likely out of a job or forever chained to the filing cabinet, so while I’ve still got some pull, I’m at your command.’
Luke was still scowling at him. But it was good to have backup from someone he knew well. Someone he trusted to watch his back as much as he trusted Solomon or Will.
‘Let’s just get Morrison before they do turn up. I’ve got a number of questions for the bastard.’ Like who was he—good guy or bad guy? And was he the guy who’d stabbed him?
He stopped when he got to the front office, having forgotten the cop shop was full to the brim. He could keep three or four offenders in each of the cells, and was used to seeing lockup occasionally full, but he wasn’t used to having his workspace invaded by so many civilians.
‘Look at this,’ he said to Jack. ‘This is not regulation.’
‘You haven’t got much choice, mate.’
Wasn’t that right. ‘I do not believe this is actually happening,’ he said, although nobody heard him.
His civilians were sitting on all available chairs and they were all talking. Jax was speaking, flipping her hands in the air, as she explained something to his lovely Rachel—his brave lady who’d been through so much, who’d worried so much that she wouldn’t be wanted here and who was now being shown such friendship and support from the people of this town. His town. At least, it was his for the moment. He couldn’t stake any claim other than as police officer in charge and if something didn’t start going by the book soon, he’d either be pushing papers next to Jack, or out of a job completely.
He turned to Jack and put his hands on his hips. ‘I just wanted a plain, simple shootout.’
Jack didn’t speak, but there was a gleam in his eye.
‘Fletcher was supposed to cause me enough trouble that I had to shoot him in the leg—at least. Or maybe beat the crap out of him in order to defend myself.’ He shrugged his shoulders to his ears. ‘Now where’s the fun?’
Jack’s grin broke. ‘Think of the paperwork if you’d had all that fun.’
‘It would have been worth it. Who can I punch now? Because I really want to punch someone.’
Jack stepped back, hands up. ‘Don’t look at me.’
Luke turned to the front office and reviewed the situation.
Donna was leaning on Jimmy’s counter, listening to him and nodding now and again. She had her chin resting in her hand and she looked as exasperated as Luke felt. Jimmy was explaining the ins and outs of an alphanumerical filing system and how it no longer worked due to …
Luke took his attention to the Agatha Girls, sitting in a row on plastic chairs behind Donna, bickering. He looked away. Honest to God, he really didn’t care what they were bickering about. ‘What, exactly, did I do so wrong in a previous life?’ he asked no-one.
‘People!’ he yelled. ‘Thank you,’ he said with a small bow of his head when silence reigned. ‘Please return to lockup. Ladies, cell four. Rachel and Jax, you can sit in cell two. Jimmy, make a note.’
Jimmy pulled his notebook towards him while Luke listened for around five seconds to the Agatha Girls’ concerns. Tomorrow, he’d be buying each of them a bunch of flowers but today—he frowned at them. ‘I told you three to stay put.’
‘It’s stuffy in that cell,’ Mrs Arnold said. ‘Even with the door open. There are no windows.’
‘It’s air-conditioned,’ Luke said.
‘The seats are hard.’
‘Can I have my hipflask?’
‘No,’ Luke said. ‘Where’s Rosita? Is she loose too?’
‘Cell three,’ Jimmy said. ‘She wanted to be in there because Davidson is in there with Billy.’
The station door opened, bringing a blast of hot air into the office as a man walked in.
‘That’s him!’ Mrs Arnold exclaimed, standing. ‘Mr Morrison—you’re safe!’
Regardless of the exclamations, the scrape of chair legs on the tiled floor as people stood and the whir of the overhead fans, the air in the room drew cold around Luke. He pulled his gun at the same time Jack drew his. In his peripheral vision, he saw Donna draw hers.
The man raised his hands. ‘Nobody worry, please. I’m not armed. I can explain.’
‘So start,’ Donna said, legs planted, gun steady in both hands. ‘Who are you?’
‘Detective Senior Sergeant Sam Leyton.’
‘And I’m the tooth fairy,’ Donna said.
‘Look, I don’t have any ID,’ Morrison said as Luke studied him, getting a sense of him. His height was about right. Same with his build. Luke could practically smell that night in the warehouse. He saw the shadows, felt the knife dig into his side. Felt the pain of the blow as the man punched him in the wound.
‘All non-police persons move to the back office now,’ Luke said. ‘On the ground, face down,’ he told Morrison, weapon steady.
Nobody moved. Morrison didn’t move. ‘I’ve been undercover for the last two years,’ he said. ‘But I’ll give you a number you can call. They’ll verify who I am and what I’m doing.’
‘Have you and I met before?’ Luke asked, unable to hold the question in. ‘Like in a warehouse twenty-eight months ago?’
The guy had the gall to look chagrined. ‘Yeah. I’ve got to explain that, too.’
‘Jack?’ Luke asked. Whoever he was, he hadn’t thought twice about stabbing Luke. Luke wasn’t going to forget that in a hurry.
‘Got him,’ Jack said.
Luke disarmed his gun, holstered it, took two steps forwards and punched Morrison on the jaw. He stumbled backwards. He hadn’t been expecting that one, so Luke took the opportunity and gave him another.
‘That one was official,’ Luke said as Morrison fell on his backside. ‘The first was personal.’
‘Nice one,’ Jimmy said. ‘We’ll be needing more forms though.’
Morrison groaned, and rubbed his jaw. ‘I won’t be complaining.’
‘Jack?’ Donna asked without looking at him.
‘Do it,’ Jack said, his weapon still a
imed.
Donna pulled out her handcuffs.
Morrison held his hands up, wrists together. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said to Donna. ‘What happened to your cheek?’
‘Cut the shit,’ Donna said, and cuffed him.
* * *
Rachel exchanged another glance with Jax. They were at the back of the larger communal office, neither of them speaking. Although they’d exchanged a few quiet words after Luke had got the ladies back in the cell—with an electric fan to assist with cooling, and a week’s worth of crossword puzzles from the station’s newspapers—and told everyone else to sit tight while he called the number Sam/Peter/whoever-he-was had given him for verification on … whoever he was.
‘It’s good to be back in the real world,’ Sam/Peter/whoever said, then took a contented breath. ‘Really good.’
So far, no-one had told Jax and Rachel to get out of the room. Jack was there, and Sam/Peter/whoever was still cuffed, and Rachel could tell Jax didn’t want to draw attention to their presence any more than Rachel did. They’d never find out what was going on if Luke sent them to the only unoccupied cell.
‘Very gentle hand you have,’ Sam/Peter/whoever said to Donna, his eyes fixed on her face and a smile on his mouth as she cleaned his jaw with gauze from a first aid kit.
‘One more wisecrack and I’ll get the OC out,’ Donna said. ‘The paperwork would be worth it.’
‘I’m not wisecracking. I promise. You’re beautiful and armed. What’s not to like?’
Donna groaned.
‘Aw, come on, Donna,’ he said, sounding put out and a little weary. ‘Give me a break. I haven’t flirted with anyone for a long time. Not for real, anyway.’
‘All right, folks,’ Luke said as he entered the room. ‘Meet Detective Senior Sergeant Sam Leyton. Previously of Critical Incident Response Unit fame in Victoria. More recently undercover as Peter Morrison. Uncuff him, Donna.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘Detective,’ Luke said, holding out his hand after Donna had taken her handcuffs back, and DSS Sam Leyton had stood. Rachel noted Luke’s resigned tone and remembered everything he’d told her about the guy in the warehouse.
‘Detective,’ Sam Leyton said in acknowledgment, taking Luke’s hand. ‘You’ve got a good reputation.’
‘It’s senior sergeant these days, so don’t start,’ Luke said. ‘I’m not in the mood for it. This is DSS Jack Maxwell.’
Sam took Jack’s outstretched hand. ‘Detective.’
‘Likewise,’ Jack said.
‘Oh great,’ Jimmy said from the doorway. ‘Three of you. Imagine my pleasure.’
‘You’ve got some explaining to do,’ Luke told Sam, his voice still tense and his words clipped.
‘In private,’ Sam said, then smiled at Donna. ‘Can I shout you dinner? I can tell you how good a cop you are, and you can tell me who gave you that bruised cheek.’
Donna held up her left hand, wiggling her ring finger.
Sam Leyton lost the jovial look. ‘Your husband?’ he asked, his voice low. ‘He did that to you?’
Rachel’s eyes shot to Donna. She felt Jax tense beside her. Then Jax took hold of Rachel’s hand and squeezed it.
‘Where is he?’ Sam asked Donna.
‘Leave it,’ Luke said. ‘Not your issue, Leyton.’
‘I’m happy to make it so.’
‘You are full of so much macho shit I want to be sick,’ Donna said, and turned to leave the room. ‘I’ll check on the Agatha Girls, Luke.’
Luke looked at Rachel, holding her gaze. He walked up to her and took her fingers in his. Jax slid away so they had some semblance of privacy.
‘Are you okay?’ Luke asked.
‘Is everything going to be all right now?’
‘You bet.’
‘You look tired, Luke.’
‘No, I’m fine. I’m just pissed off. I wanted a big shootout, you know? Something I could remember fondly when I’m out of uniform and working as a welder.’
She controlled a laugh. ‘You want to be a welder?’
‘Or a marathon runner. That’d be a pretty good job. No paperwork.’
Rachel smiled and wanted to run her hand over his cheek and his jaw but didn’t because they ought not to be behaving so lovingly in the cop shop.
He glanced out the window as though wishing he could walk out now, then looked back at Rachel. ‘By the way, what was all that from Mrs Frith about the size of my boots?’
Rachel let her laugh out then covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’ll tell you later. Although, just so you know—it’s true.’
He frowned. ‘What’s true?’
Rachel became serious. ‘Was it really Donna’s husband?’ she asked quietly.
His eyes darkened. ‘She doesn’t want to chase him. I do.’
‘It’s not as straightforward as it appears to some officials,’ Rachel told him.
‘I guess it isn’t. Are you all right?’
‘It’s been crazy, Luke, and now everything’s settled in such a—well, in such a crazy, unexpected way.’
‘You’re telling me. Everyone’s safe but I’m going to miss that shootout for the rest of my life.’ He bent and kissed her, practically robbing her of breath in her surprise.
Jimmy wolf-whistled from the doorway.
Luke released her, looked into her eyes for a split second, then turned.
‘Jimmy, back to work. Rachel and Jax, please go with Donna to cell two. Leyton—sit. Jack, close the door.’
* * *
‘You look done in,’ Luke said to Sam, relenting a little now they had the room to themselves. He drew up a wooden chair, turned it and sat astride it, leaning his arms on the backrest.
Sam Leyton rubbed a hand through his hair while rotating his shoulders. ‘Couldn’t get a coffee, could I? I’m thinking I might fall asleep any second.’
‘Coffee we can do,’ Jack said, rising and heading for the percolator in the communal office. ‘Shut-eye is going to have to wait.’
‘Before we get into who you are and what you’ve been doing,’ Luke said, ‘where are the builders? You told the old dears you were going to bring them into the station.’
‘I was going to do that but somebody got to them before me.’ He held up his hands in surrender, a move he’d made a few times since he’d walked into the station. ‘I’m not touching that crime scene. Not until you and Jack have taken a look. But they won’t be going anywhere in a hurry, I can promise you that.’
‘What are you talking about? Who got there before you?’
‘Don’t know but he’s a pro. I can take you there. It’s a little off the beaten track. They’re safe though. And so is everyone else—they won’t get out of their current predicament.’
Luke didn’t speak or change his expression but he was guessing the pro was Solomon. Solomon would be paying them back for their treatment of Billy. He was looking forward to witnessing Solomon’s handiwork firsthand. Although it meant there’d be no shootout at the museum either.
‘What about the Perth building firm?’ he asked Sam.
‘Eric Maloney,’ Sam said. ‘Runs Nirvana Interiors. Also used to assist running the meth drug ring. The one you raided just over two years ago.’
They’d got to the point faster than Luke had anticipated.
‘I apologise for stabbing you, Weston,’ Sam said. ‘I couldn’t take a chance. I had to get you on the ground and incapacitated or they’d have killed you.’
‘If you hadn’t punched me in the wound, I might be more convivial about hearing your apology about stabbing me.’
‘Yeah, understood.’
‘It cost me an extra week in the hospital.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I got more shit from my DI, my team, and a pile of counsellors who were worried about my emotional health, than I did from the gash in my side.’
Sam winced. ‘It was my only option.’
Luke nodded. ‘I get it.’ Although it still rankled. ‘So how
did you get involved with them?’
‘I was working undercover with the drug ring. A year ago, they upped the ante to include money laundering. Since I was already with them, my op had me stay. I’ve been with them ever since. On the periphery, I might add. Amazing how much intel you can get from the lower ranks. We’ve caught a number of those players. Dozens of them.’
‘Bringing them in one by one,’ Luke said. He’d seen it happen before. If you couldn’t get the big guys, collapse the pyramid from the bottom. ‘And now you’re done?’ he asked.
Sam nodded, and smiled. ‘I’m out.’
‘How come you spent so long undercover and you’re still grinning?’ Jack asked.
‘Optimistic nature, mate. Are we finished?’
Luke stood, flipping the chair the right way round and shoving it under a desk. ‘For now. Let’s get to the museum and get those builders.’
‘Great,’ Sam said, putting his hands on his thighs as he stood. ‘Can I change the subject for a second? Any chance you could fill me in on Senior Constable Donna Murray’s marriage situation?’
‘Quick work,’ Jack said.
‘That’s amusing, coming from you,’ Luke threw back at Jack. ‘What was it Jax called you? Oh yeah—Jack-the-lad.’
‘That was before,’ Jack said, his chair rolling backwards along the tiled floor as he stood. ‘Long before I met Isabelle Jaxine Brown.’
‘Shall we get on with it, detectives?’ Luke said. ‘This is a cop shop not a dating agency.’ Although at the moment, there was more romance going on in his police station than in the glossy magazines at a dentist’s waiting room.
Twenty-Three
‘Hey!’ Jax hissed, nudging Rachel with an elbow.
Rachel refocused.
‘You okay?’ Jax asked with a worried voice.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Just don’t look.’
‘I’m fine. Really. He’s locked up. He’s off the streets.’
‘Drunken oaf,’ Mrs Arnold said, studying the CCTV monitors in Luke’s office. ‘Look at him. A waste to society.’
‘He’s also a vicious abuser,’ Donna said, her tone casual and controlled like any good police officer’s would be, but there was a firmness to her mouth and a distance in her eyes. A distance Rachel recognised.