The Final Bullet

by Chris Taylor

  Remaining at the party now seemed foolhardy. His attraction to Ava was so powerful and strong, it wouldn’t take his friends long to become aware of it and where would that leave him? His secret would be laid bare for all to see and he sure as hell wasn’t capable of dealing with that kind of fallout at the moment. He didn’t know if he’d ever find the courage to admit to his friends and colleagues that his marriage might be over, let alone that he was the reason it had failed.

  Those thoughts cooled his ardor and with effort, he reined in his wayward libido and put a little more distance between them. She frowned at him, but remained silent, her gaze still fixed on the children in the pool.

  “How do you like living in the country?” she asked, as if the last few moments hadn’t happened.

  He stared at her and then finally nodded. Fine, if that’s the way she wanted to play it. Pretending those minutes of madness between them had never happened was probably the best way to go. After all, she was only here for a visit. Soon, she’d return to Sydney and her normal life. A life that couldn’t include him.

  “I love it,” he answered honestly.

  “Were you born here?”

  “No, my brothers and sisters were all born in Sydney. Mom and Dad lived in Cronulla for all of their married lives. Dad’s buried in the cemetery at Sutherland.”

  Ava nodded, her expression softening. “I remember Samantha telling me your dad died the same night our mom received her kidney transplant. It was a difficult and emotional time for all of us.”

  “Yes. It was. Mom’s still coming to terms with Dad’s sudden passing. It was a shock, that’s for sure.”

  “How many brothers and sisters do you have? I seem to recall a fair number of them at the wedding.”

  Lachlan chuckled, his heart filling with pride. “Four brothers and three sisters.”

  “There are eight of you? Wow! I thought growing up with a brother and two sisters was unusual.”

  “You’re right. Large families don’t seem to be in fashion anymore.”

  She looked at him quizzically. “I’m not sure it has anything to do with fashion. More likely the cost of raising kids. I have friends with kids in daycare and I’m telling you, it costs a bomb.”

  “Yeah, you have that right. Even out here in the country, childcare doesn’t come cheap.”

  * * *

  Ava stared at the man who had filled far too many of her dreams and wondered about his comment. It sounded like he had personal experience dealing with the financial reality of having children in paid care. She suddenly wished she’d made more of an effort to contact Samantha and ask if Lachlan were married. From the sound of it, even if he weren’t, he definitely had young kids. Keeping her voice light, she asked him.

  “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

  He flashed her a wary smile, but his tone remained light. “I am.”

  Tension pooled in her belly. “You have kids?” she managed.

  “Yes. A boy and a girl. Harry’s two and Charlotte’s four.”

  She swallowed hard and tried to keep the dismay from her voice. After all, it wasn’t his fault she hadn’t asked these questions before they’d had sex in the cloakroom at her sister’s wedding.

  “You’re… You’re married?”

  He grimaced and looked away, his expression sad and distant. “Yes. No. Kind of.”

  Ava shook her head, filled with confusion and a burgeoning anger. She stared at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re not making sense. It’s an easy question. Surely, you’re either married, or you’re not.”

  He heaved a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped. When he turned back to face her, she almost gasped at the pain in his eyes.

  “I wish it was that easy. The truth is, I am married, but I’m not sure for how much longer. My wife walked out and took our kids a fortnight before Rohan and Samantha’s wedding. I haven’t seen them since they left. Kristy hasn’t even let me talk to Charlotte and Harry. She says it will only upset them. I miss them both so much.”

  He looked away. Ava was too surprised by his revelations to speak. Lachlan dragged in a ragged breath and continued.

  “I… I haven’t told anyone. I guess I didn’t want to face the truth. We’d been having problems for a long time, but I’ve been clinging to the hope we might get back together, work things out for the sake of the kids.” He scoffed and his voice filled with disgust. “Who am I kidding? She can barely bring herself to talk to me and when she has, it’s only been over the phone. As soon as the required twelve months are up, I expect she’ll ask for a divorce.”

  Ava continued to stare at him in surprise. She was still upset he hadn’t told her at the wedding, but she could understand why it hadn’t come up. She’d been just as impatient as he’d been to lose herself in a stranger’s arms. And it wasn’t like she’d helped to break up his marriage. Apparently, that damage had already been done.

  The tension eased out of her. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

  He drew in another breath and his body shuddered as he exhaled. “Life happened, I guess. We got married young. I was barely out of the Academy. Fresh and eager to face the world.” His lips twisted on another grimace. “Little did we know life would suck me in and spit me out, until I had nothing left to give. Kristy accused me of shutting her out, refusing to let her in.” He turned to stare at Ava, his green eyes dark and tortured. “And she was right.”

  Ava sucked in a breath at the bitterness in his voice. His suffering was obvious. She recalled him telling her at the wedding he was a detective and couldn’t imagine the things he’d seen and done in the course of his job. She wondered if he’d sought any professional help and then voiced her thoughts aloud.

  “Police officers, suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder… It happens way more often than you think. PTSD isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s just a normal reaction to the kind of trauma you and your colleagues see. Have you talked to anyone about it? A psychologist?”

  He gave a derisive laugh and shook his head. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  She kept her gaze on his, her voice serious. “No, I’m not. The police service makes provision for mental health issues. You’re entitled to three paid therapy sessions; more if it’s required.”

  He frowned and his gaze narrowed. “How the hell do you know all this? Are you a cop?”

  “No, I’m a psychiatrist and at the moment, I’m doing some locum work in the area for Doctor Phoebe Jamison. She’s a friend of mine and she asked me to cover her practice for the next month. Many of her clientele comprise high stress professionals, including a number of police officers, so I made it my business to become familiar with the procedures and the requirements to receive benefits, including the police service benefits, in case some of their employees require my services.”

  His lips compressed and he stared down at his feet. Ava could tell he wasn’t impressed by her answer. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was advocating therapy for police officers or whether his dismissal of the information was something more personal. When he spoke, his voice was low and thick with emotion.

  “You people don’t know shit about how it works in the real world.”

  Ava tensed reflexively and then forced herself to relax. She reminded herself he was lashing out at the system, not her.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked, keeping her tone even.

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “Do you have any idea what it would do to my career if it got out that I was seeking therapy to deal with the crap in my head? We’re machines, Doc, not New Age men. We’re supposed to be able to deal with all the daily shit.”

  “I guess while you keep telling yourself that, you’ll believe it,” she said quietly, feeling his frustration and pain. She sympathized with his situation, even though she didn’t agree with it.

  He threw her another hard stare and turned away, muttering under his breath. Without a backward glance, he stalked toward the house, shaking his h
ead.

  Her heart ached for him and for others like him. She wanted to help him, but how could she? No amount of therapy could help someone who wasn’t in the right frame of mind to embrace it or admit they needed help.

  “Ava! Ava! Look at me!”

  The high-pitched squeals of Montana Griffin snagged Ava’s attention. Forcing away her dark thoughts, she smiled and clapped her hands in encouragement at Pam and Martin’s youngest. Four-year-old Montana climbed out of the pool and once again hurled herself into the deep end, laughing and shouting with glee.

  “You’re very clever, Montana,” Ava chuckled, impressed with the little girl’s enthusiasm and total lack of fear. Ava couldn’t remember being so brave at that age. It was heartening to see.

  “Watch me, Ava! I can dive!”

  Ava switched her attention to Patrick. Older by three years, with his dark curly hair and brown eyes, he was the image of his father. She watched while the boy bent his knees and belly flopped into the pool. Sputtering to the surface, the grin on his face stretched his lips wide.

  “See! I told you I could dive!”

  Ava laughed, unable to help herself. “So you did, Patrick. Did it hurt?”

  He nodded, but the grin remained. “A little bit, but I’m gonna try again!”

  Ava laughed again and shook her head. The scene before her filled her with satisfaction. Just two regular kids having fun in the pool, building healthy self-esteems. That was the way it was supposed to be. She could only hope they remained as fearless and confident throughout their lives.

  Life had a way of knocking people down. She hoped they’d be prepared for that when it happened.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dear Diary,

  Their laughter is filled with joy and spontaneity and the vibrant innocence of youth. I can hear them from my office, right down the hall. I smile at the sound, but it fails to touch me deep inside and the knowledge cuts me to pieces.

  It never used to be like this. I used to take joy in their simple pleasures; in the wonderment of life. The black hole that surrounds me has sucked out every scrap of light until there’s nothing left but darkness…and it’s eating at my soul.

  She watches me with concern and a little anger in her eyes, wanting to help, needing to help—but not knowing how. I’ve done nothing to assist her; nothing to show her the way. It’s not because I don’t want to. I’d give anything to be normal, to feel something other than this darkness deep inside, but the truth is, I don’t know how.

  How can she help me—how can anyone help me—when I can no longer help myself…?

  * * *

  From the corner of his eye, Lachlan spied Martin heading in his direction, coffee cup in hand. It was Monday morning and their shift had barely begun. Lachlan stifled a groan and kept his gaze fixed to the computer screen in front of him. Despite the ache in his shoulder and the difficulty he had typing with one hand, he concentrated hard on the task and did his best to appear engrossed in his work. Undeterred, Martin perched himself on a corner of Lachlan’s desk.

  “Morning, partner. How are you doing?”

  Lachlan glanced at his colleague and gave him a brief nod of acknowledgment before returning his attention to the screen.

  “You left the party early. You didn’t even stay for the game.”

  Lachie grimaced. “Yeah, I’m sorry. It had been a rough week. I was tired before I got there. Probably should have stayed at home. I hope I didn’t spoil Pam’s place settings. Is she mad?”

  Martin grinned. “Furious. But she’ll get over it. She loves you,” he added.

  “Hey, tell her I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave so abruptly. I…” He shrugged helplessly, unable to offer an acceptable explanation.

  The truth was, he’d felt so out of sorts after his conversation with Ava, he’d known he wouldn’t be good company for anyone. The thought of spending more time with her had been unbearable. She’d touched on a raw nerve when she’d suggested he’d do well to seek professional help and he wasn’t prepared to sit politely and listen to any more of it over the dinner table.

  “I saw you with Ava Wolfe. You looked pretty friendly. Pam said you knew her from before.”

  “Her sister’s married to one of my brothers. We met at their wedding.”

  Martin nodded in comprehension. “No wonder you appeared so cozy with each other. For a moment, I thought you were coming on to her. I knew I was being stupid. You’d never do anything to hurt Kristy.”

  Lachlan listened and the familiar feelings of guilt and dread resurfaced. It grew and solidified in his gut until it felt like he was being pulled down into a quagmire from which there was no escape. He sucked in a breath and did his best to steady his racing heart.

  He still couldn’t understand why he’d told Ava his marriage was as good as over. He’d managed to keep Kristy’s leaving a secret all this time—and then just like that, he not only revealed it, but to a woman who was almost a stranger. He had no idea if he could trust her to keep her mouth shut. It might be only a matter of time before word spread that his wife had left and taken the kids. Permanently. He had to tell Martin. His friend would never forgive him if he heard it from someone else.

  “Are you all right, Lachie?”

  Lachlan blinked to clear his head of the heavy fog that suddenly made it difficult to think. Martin’s concerned features filled his vision. He did his best to offer him a reassuring smile.

  “Yeah, of course. I… I… There’s something I need to tell you.”

  A frown now lined Martin’s forehead and a hint of wariness crept into his eyes. “Okay,” he said uncertainly.

  Lachlan cursed softly beneath his breath and then decided to make it quick and clean and then get the hell out of there.

  “Kristy and I split up. She packed up her things and left with the kids six weeks ago.”

  Martin looked stunned at the news. He stood and moved a few steps away, shaking his head. “Shit. You mean, she just…left?”

  “She accused me of shutting her out. I think her exact words were that I was emotionally frigid and had been for most of our marriage. We argued. Again. She told me she wanted a divorce. The next day, I came home from work and the house was empty. She left a note on the fridge.”

  “Hell, Lachie! I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this shit around for six weeks! Why didn’t you tell me? We’re friends.”

  Lachlan winced at the hurt in Martin’s voice. Wounding his mate was the last thing he’d wanted to do.

  “We are. And I’m sorry. The truth is, I’m still trying to get my head around it. Kristy calling it quits on our marriage, taking the kids… I guess I didn’t want to tell anyone because then I’d be forced to accept it. I’d have to look at the reasons she gave for ending it and I don’t know that I’m strong enough or brave enough to do that, on top of everything else.”

  The admission was difficult, but as he said the words, Lachlan realized he was telling the truth. The fact was, he’d been in a downward spiral for a long time. Continued exposure to the worst that people had to offer had damaged him deep down inside. The only way he’d found to cope was to shut down his thoughts and emotions and that included shutting out his wife. He had no one but himself to blame for the loss of his family. Ava had been right. He needed help.

  He pushed away from his desk and stood.

  “Where are you off to?” Martin asked.

  “I’m going to see the boss.”

  Surprise filled Martin’s face. “About Kristy?”

  Lachlan stared at his friend. “Among other things.”

  “Be careful what you say, Lachie,” Martin warned, his voice low.

  “Yeah.”

  Martin didn’t need to remind Lachlan how damaging it would be to his career if the boss decided he was unstable, but he had no choice. His life had taken a downward turn. He needed help—and soon.

  Knocking briefly on Becker’s half-open door, Lachlan entered without waiting to be asked. Becker threw him
a sour look.

  “What is it, Coleridge?”

  “I… I’m in a bad way, boss. I think I need some help.” The words fell out before he could stop them.

  Becker stared at him in surprise. “You mean like…therapy or something?”

  “Yes. It’s been building up for a while. Kristy and I have…separated. And there’s other crap I have to work through. I thought you should know.”

  A humorless chuckle fell from Becker’s lips and he shook his head slowly back and forth. “I’m sorry to hear about you and Kristy, but don’t talk to me about therapy. That counseling shit’s for pussies. Man up, Detective. Grow a pair of balls. We all do it tough, from time to time. It comes with the job. Go and have a few scotches and forget about it, like the rest of us do.”

  Lachlan stared at him in disbelief, shocked at Becker’s callous attitude. He’d known his boss didn’t think highly of therapy, but he didn’t expect the man to be so blunt. After all, the police service prided itself on providing at least the appearance of emotional support for its officers.

  Already regretting his decision to confide in the man, Lachlan turned his back on his boss and left the room without another word. It was clear that if he was going to get help, he needed to do it on his own. And he would. He had no choice. It was as simple as that.

  * * *

  The phone that stood on Phoebe’s desk pealed. Ava picked it up, silencing the noise. “Ava Wolfe.”

  “Hi, Doctor. It’s Janelle. I’m Phoebe’s receptionist. We met this morning in the tea room. I have a call for you on line two.”

  Ava recalled the gray-haired, grandmotherly type she’d met earlier over a cup of coffee and smiled. “Thank you, Janelle.”

  Earlier, with coffee in hand, Janelle had given her a brief tour of the building. Two other bedrooms had been converted into generous office spaces. A small, but tidy kitchen used by the staff and modest bathroom facilities made up the rest of the house. In addition to Phoebe’s office, an accountant occupied one room and a chiropractor the other. Ava had yet to meet either of them.