The Final Bullet

by Chris Taylor

  Hours later, as the small passenger plane touched down in Moree, Ava couldn’t quell the sudden rush of nerves. She hadn’t told anyone the real reason behind her eagerness to accept Phoebe’s invitation. The mention of Moree had instantly brought back memories of her fleeting moments with Lachlan Coleridge and their interlude in the cloakroom.

  Ever since the wedding, she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind. Samantha and Rohan had left immediately afterwards for a month-long honeymoon overseas, and not being able to hound her sister for more details about the man who made her pulse beat faster, had driven her to distraction.

  She hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about what had happened at the wedding, not even to her twin. She didn’t know if it was a brief moment in history that would never be repeated or if there could ever be something more between them. He was a cop in the outback. She was a city girl. Any kind of relationship between them would be next to impossible, wouldn’t it?

  She didn’t have any answers, but the fact was, the city girl had just arrived in the bush. A surge of excitement and nervousness flooded through her at the thought of seeing him again. Moree was a town of less than ten thousand people. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to locate a police officer by the name of Lachlan Coleridge. She couldn’t wait to find out.

  * * *

  “All right, everyone, listen up.” Detective Superintendent Nigel Becker’s voice rang out across the squad room. It was changeover and the modest squad room was crowded and noisy from several simultaneous conversations. The officers who’d kept the small rural town of Moree, New South Wales, safe and protected throughout the past twelve hours were coming to the end of their shift. It had been a helluva day.

  Lachlan pushed away from his desk and gathered around his boss, along with the rest of the detectives in the room. Becker towered above most men. At least six foot four or five, most people he came into contact with couldn’t help but think of a bear. This impression was emphasized by the man’s dark coloring and enormous body mass. He weighed over two hundred pounds, with only the slightest hint of a middle-age spread. There was no doubt about it. He was an impressive physical specimen.

  “I want to congratulate you all on the success of your mission,” Becker announced. “Thanks to your efforts, two of the four prisoners have already confessed.”

  A loud cheer went up among those gathered. Lachlan allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction.

  “It’s a pity about those kids,” Becker continued in a casual tone, “but that’s what you get for working in a shithole meth lab with a bunch of fucking amateurs.” A general murmur of agreement went around the room. Lachlan’s gut tightened.

  “By the way,” Becker continued, “if any of you need to talk about what happened, don’t forget the lovely people in the Employee Assistance Program are waiting to take your call.”

  The smirk that immediately followed Becker’s words irritated Lachlan like a burr caught in his sock, but he clenched his jaw to prevent himself from commenting. Becker’s contemptuous attitude toward not only the dead children, but the effect of their deaths on his men came as no surprise, and speaking out against it would only hurt Lachlan’s chances of promotion.

  He didn’t need to be reminded that as police officers, they were built tougher than most. It was their job and their duty to take traumatic situations on the chin. The shit they were subjected to day after day, the awful things they saw, weren’t meant to affect them like it did the average man. It was just the way it was and it was no secret any officer who sought counseling through the EAP was putting his career prospects on the line.

  The counseling was meant to be confidential, but that was a load of shit. Lachlan never could work out how it happened, but the handful of times one or another of his colleagues had reached out for that kind of help, everyone in the station found out about it.

  With Becker’s speech over, Lachlan wandered back to his desk and collected his keys and then headed toward the locker room. He and Martin had already met with the officers who were taking over for the night.

  After hours of interrogation, along with the confessions, one of the prisoners had finally given up the identity of the two boys found in the burned-out house.

  Michael Fernando and Trevor Cross were fifteen and sixteen, respectively. Lachlan had run their names through the database and was saddened to see the list of petty juvenile crimes that were listed underneath both names. They were well known to the local police, but still, nobody deserved to be burned alive. Lachlan was grateful the night shift had agreed to break the news to their families.

  “Hey, Lachie, wait up,” Martin called out and then hurried to catch up to him. “What a day, huh?”

  Lachlan grimaced. “Yeah.”

  “Fancy a drink downtown?”

  Lachlan shook his head. “No, mate. I’m bushed. I’m heading straight for the shower and then to bed.”

  Martin nodded and then changed the subject. “How’s Kristy?”

  Lachlan shrugged his uninjured shoulder and kept walking, ignoring the stab of guilt. He’d done his best to keep thoughts of his wife pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind and after the past eighteen hours he’d endured, he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about her now.

  At his brother’s wedding, he’d been relieved when he’d been able to satisfy his family’s curiosity at Kristy’s absence by claiming she wasn’t well enough to attend. They’d all expressed their sympathy and their well wishes that she return to good health soon. He’d burned with guilt over his hasty lies, but he hadn’t had a choice. He wasn’t ready to tell anyone that his wife had walked out on him more than six weeks ago and had taken their kids.

  His head had been all over the place, then and now. It was the reason he’d had mind-blowing, amazing sex with a woman he barely knew. A woman who wasn’t his wife. More than a month later, he still hadn’t been able to bring himself to speak about any of it. He was filled with guilt every time he thought about Ava Wolfe.

  It shouldn’t have mattered that his wife had walked out on their marriage and that he was no longer thinking straight. He shouldn’t have had sex with her. At the very least, he should have told her he was separated.

  The truth was, he hadn’t been thinking about anything other than an escape from the dark and pain. He was sick of the bullshit that kept going round and round in his head. He’d wanted to forget about everything, even for a few moments, and do nothing but feel.

  It was selfish and wrong and any number of other things, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, even as a part of him hoped Kristy would come back and they could try harder on their marriage—and nobody would be the wiser about how close they had come, least of all his kids. But that was a stupid way of thinking—his kids were four and two. Surely, Charlotte, his eldest child, would have cottoned on that something was up. She hadn’t seen her daddy for six weeks. Pain flooded his heart. He wondered what Kristy had told them.

  Ignoring his silence, Martin continued. “Pam and I are having a barbeque on Sunday. Some friends of ours are visiting from Sydney. Why don’t you and the family come around? It’s been ages since we had you over.”

  Lachlan reached his locker and, with his good arm, threw open the door. With a little difficulty, he peeled off his grimy shirt and tossed it in his bag. The last thing he wanted to do was go to Martin’s gathering and spend an afternoon pretending all was normal with his life, but Martin was waiting for his answer, an expectant look on his face.

  Lachlan sighed inwardly. After what they’d just been through, the least he could do was give his partner a little show of support.

  “Sure, why not?” he forced himself to reply. “But it will be just me, I’m afraid. Kristy and the kids have gone away for a while.”

  The lie tasted sour on his lips but he still wasn’t ready to confess the truth. His wife had left him, accusing him of being cold and selfish and emotionless, unwilling to think of anyone but himself. If she only knew how hard it was
for him to keep the darkness at bay. Refusing to discuss his problems was the only thing that kept him sane.

  Martin shot him a curious look. “How long will they be gone?”

  “A couple of weeks. Maybe more. Kristy’s mother had a hip replacement. She’s gone to help out for a while.”

  Once again, the lies fell from his lips. This time, it was easier. Martin nodded in acceptance. “That’s all right. You’re welcome to come on your own. Pam will have a fit because the numbers won’t work out, but don’t worry about that.” He grinned and Lachlan forced himself to smile.

  “Does Kristy know about your injury?” Martin asked, nodding toward the white sling.

  Lachlan averted his gaze. “No. It’s nothing. A broken collarbone. There’s nothing anyone can do. I just need to keep it immobile for a few weeks. I didn’t want to worry her about something as trivial as this.”

  “I guess,” Martin replied, looking unconvinced, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you if she gives you an earful when she finds out. Women get weird over crap like that.”

  Lachlan winked. “You’ll be there to defend me if the shit hits the fan.”

  “Humph! Don’t bet on it,” Martin mumbled, but Lachlan saw through his bluff.

  He and Martin had known each other ever since Lachlan moved to Moree five years earlier. Over that time, they’d become close friends. Lachlan was filled with guilt at the thought of not confiding in him, but that would mean opening up a can of worms that he just wasn’t ready to face.

  “Come around at three,” Martin added, tugging off his shirt. “We’ll have time to watch the game before dinner.”

  Lachlan managed a nod and escaped into the shower.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lachlan pulled his white Ford Ranger pickup over to the curb outside Martin’s home and killed the engine. His arm ached and he was already sick and tired of the sling, but according to the emergency room doctor, if he wanted the bone to heal properly, he had to put up with it, at least for three or four weeks. Too bad the pain wasn’t bad enough that he could use it as an excuse not to attend the barbeque.

  Lachlan stared at the neat, two-storey brick home where Martin and Pam Griffin lived with their kids. Two bikes lay abandoned on the front lawn, one sporting a cute white basket covered in bright plastic flowers. A neatly trimmed hedge bordered the house and the garden beds looked freshly mulched. The warm and friendly exterior was amplified on the inside and more often than not, Lachlan couldn’t wait to step inside and be part of it, but today the house wasn’t offering its usual appeal.

  The fact was, he didn’t want to go in. He didn’t want to mingle and chat and socialize with friends and colleagues and strangers and pretend there was nothing wrong. He didn’t want to have to fight against his mind straying to another woman and a few stolen, magical moments in time. He couldn’t even garner enough interest to watch the game.

  The memory of the two young charred bodies kept coming back to haunt him. He’d seen a lot of awful shit over the course of his career, but nothing quite as horrific as confronting the boys who’d been trapped inside the burning house. He wished that somehow they’d been killed instantly, when the explosion had first occurred, but from the screams he heard that night and the looks of agony on their faces, it hadn’t gone down like that. The knowledge was tearing him apart.

  He blew his breath out on a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to admit it, but the job was getting to him. It might have already cost him his marriage. The thought of his kids coming from a broken home filled him with anguish and pain—but he didn’t know what he could do.

  He loved being a cop. It was all he wanted to be. He’d applied for the Goulburn Police Academy straight out of high school and had been accepted right away. But the horrors the job had subjected him to, were beginning to take their toll. Short of making the call to the EAP for counseling—and hoping like hell it would help—he was out of options.

  “Hey, are you coming in, or are you just going to sit in your vehicle all afternoon?”

  Lachlan blinked and cleared his head of his depressing thoughts and forced a grin in the direction of his friend. Martin stood nearby with a pair of barbeque tongs in one hand and a beer in the other.

  “Yeah, of course,” Lachlan managed. Using his good arm, he awkwardly released his seat belt and opened the car door. “I was just… Never mind. How are those steaks going?”

  Collecting a six pack of beer off the back seat, he walked with Martin in the direction of the house. They’d barely entered the backyard before Pam Griffin broke away from a small group of guests and headed toward them.

  “Lachie! It’s great to see you! Oh, you poor thing! Martin told me you’d broken your collarbone. How are Kristy and the kids?”

  Before he could draw breath to answer, Lachlan was engulfed by sweet-smelling perfume and soft woman as Martin’s pretty young wife gave him a gentle hug. Pulling away, he smiled at her and forced himself to reply.

  “Hi, Pam. They’re fine. They’re at Kristy’s mother’s place at the moment. Down on the Central Coast.”

  “Yes, a hip replacement, right?” Pamela Griffin stared at him and Lachlan flushed under her close perusal. There was no way she could know the truth. Nobody knew.

  And then she smiled and shook her head. “Your family have been in the wars, haven’t they? Broken collarbone, broken hips. Never mind. Here, let me introduce you around.”

  Lachlan set his six pack on a table. Pam took him by the hand.

  “This is Tom and Lynette. They live on the other side of town. They have George and Elizabeth, the twins. They’re in Charlotte and Montana’s class, right? And this is Robert and Sue. You’ve met them before, I think.”

  Lachlan dutifully nodded greetings and shook hands with the other guests, gritting his teeth at the pain whenever someone got too enthusiastic and pulled on his injured shoulder. Oblivious to his discomfort, Pam tugged him toward the swimming pool where a dark-haired woman stood with her back to him, watching the children splashing in the water.

  “And this is Ava. We went to school together in Sydney. She’s just arrived off the plane. She’s staying in Moree for a while. Ava, come and meet Lachie.”

  The woman turned slowly and smiled at him. Lachlan felt the impact of her all the way through to his gut. Though she wore large sunglasses that covered almost half her face, there was no doubt in his mind who she was. Ava Wolfe. Samantha’s sister. The woman he’d…

  Bombarded with the memory of erotic sensations, of her tongue down his throat and her legs wrapped around his waist, it took him a moment to respond. Guilt flooded through him. He should have told her earlier about his wife, before anything happened between them. Before things got…complicated.

  He hadn’t seen her since the wedding, but she looked as hot now as she had back then. He wondered if his brother or her sister had said anything to her about him, but then dismissed the thought. Her expression was one of surprise and pleasure. He couldn’t imagine her looking at him like that if she knew about Kristy. Ignoring the growing sense of dread, he greeted her.

  “Ava, wow! What a surprise! What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see you!”

  She offered him a dry smile. “I can see that.”

  “It’s good to see you again. You look fantastic!”

  “What happened to your arm?” she asked, glancing at the sling. “You weren’t wearing one of those the last time I saw you.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. A broken collarbone. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t tell me you two know each other?” Pam asked, bemused.

  “Yes,” Ava responded, before Lachlan had a chance. “His brother married my sister a month ago. We met at the wedding.”

  “Oh, that’s amazing!” Pam giggled. “Don’t you just love it when something like this happens? Six degrees of separation and all that crazy stuff. I can’t believe it! Wait until I tell Martin.” She turned on her heel and hurried away, leaving the two of them alone. Ava turned back to
face the pool.

  “Are you on lifeguard duty?” he asked, moving to stand beside her. He was intrigued when she moved a little further away.

  “Yes, apparently.”

  “Which one is yours?”

  “None of them. I don’t have any kids.”

  His gaze moved across her face. Tiny crows’ feet lined the corners of her eyes. Rohan had told him Samantha was thirty-four and she was the baby of the family. It was curious her sister hadn’t made any moves to have children by now.

  “You don’t like kids?” he asked, keeping his voice light, unable to believe how much her answer suddenly mattered to him.

  She turned to him, her eyes guarded. “Yes, of course I do. I just… I just haven’t found the right person to have them with. Some men aren’t cut out to be a father.”

  Lachlan digested the information, recalling the ex-boyfriend. “I take it you’re referring to the guy you dumped right before the wedding?”

  She blushed and averted her gaze, staring fixedly at the pool. “You remember.”

  He stared at her. “I remember lots of things.” His gaze traveled across the smooth skin that stretched across high cheekbones and skimmed across her mouth. He remembered the taste and feel of her under his lips, the way she’d clung to him, panting, hot and frantic with need.

  Blood surged through him and centered in his cock and yet, he brazenly continued to look his fill. The bodice of her light summer dress cupped the soft fullness of her breasts. The floral fabric flared over womanly hips and ended in a flurry above her knees. It was now fall, but her legs were bare and golden with the last vestiges of her summer tan. Toenails, painted in a soft pink, peeked out from the open toes of low-heeled, brown sandals.

  He remembered the warm wet feel of her as he’d plunged all the way inside and he stifled a groan. What the hell was he doing? As far as his friends knew, he was a happily married man. And she had no idea about his circumstances. Despite what had happened between them and how much he longed for it to happen again, he wasn’t prepared to concede his marriage was over.