by JD Nixon
Angry, I contemplated my continuing crusade against the Bycrafts. So far, I’d brought Jake, Denny, and Tommy over to my side. I’d helped bang up Red, Karl, Al and Grae. I’d given crucial evidence in locking up Tommy and Craig for life. I’d arrested Garth, even though he’d since served his time. Mark and Rosie could potentially serve time for assaulting police officers. Lola couldn’t live forever.
I was dividing and conquering them, bit by bit. I smiled at that.
But now I had a new goal – to hunt down my father’s killer. The Sarge had said this year would be a good one for me, and he was right. But perhaps not for the reasons he thought.
I would definitely be returning to Little Town.
*****
I had a wonderful and relaxing week with Marianne, her husband, and children in the city. I especially enjoyed driving the Sarge’s little car around, feeling like a millionaire. It was a chance to put all the horribleness of the past month behind me, and to start looking forward to the future. Whatever that would turn out to be.
But when that break was over, as I drove closer to Little Town, I grew increasingly nervous about seeing the Sarge again after what had happened between us on New Year’s Eve.
I needn’t have worried though, because he was as friendly and casual as usual, though evidently pleased to see me. However, he did give the Beemer a careful ten-minute check over before giving it the all-clear.
“Lucky for you,” he said, smiling.
“I’m really sorry I stole your car. Will you let me drive it again? Soon?”
“Maybe. We’ll see,” was all he’d say. “Give me the keys.” I reluctantly dropped them in his open palm.
“Come with me,” he said. “I have something to show you.”
I grabbed my bag from the car and followed him inside the house. I threw my bag in my room on the way to his office. He pulled out a sack and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, puzzled.
“Open it,” he smiled.
I opened it to see a stack of mail inside. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s people writing to you.”
“Writing to me? What on earth for?”
“That article in the paper after your father died reported you’d lost everything in that fire. It was repeated in a few national papers. I think people were touched by that.”
“Oh, man. This is really unexpected.”
I took the sack into his lounge room and pulled out a letter at random. I opened the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper. A twenty-dollar note floated out to the floor. I quickly scanned the accompanying letter.
“This is insane. This lovely person, who I don’t even know, has sent me a donation,” I said in amazement, handing the letter over to him to read. I picked up the money and looked at it. “I can’t take this.”
“You’ve read what they said – they appreciate the job that police do. They want to do their part to thank you, and they want to help you.”
I spent the rest of the day reading every single letter, opening every single parcel. Yeah, there were some unpleasant troll letters, but after the first one I read, the Sarge insisted on scanning all of the mail first. Any other troll ones he came across, he screwed them up and threw them away, not letting me read them.
At one point, he laughed. “This one wants you to marry him.”
“What?” I snatched the letter out of his hand and read. “Oh . . . Did he send a photo?”
“You’re not marrying him,” he smiled, whacking the back of my head with the envelope.
“Not straight away,” I smiled. “Obviously, we’ll date for a while first.”
He slowly shook his head. “Just keep reading, Fuller, or we’ll be here all night.”
By the end of the sack, there was a tidy pile of cash and another of cheques.
“I really don’t feel comfortable about this,” I said, contemplating them. “Should I donate the money? Maybe to a police charity.”
“Best to check with the Super,” he advised.
“It’s yours,” she told me by phone.
“But ma’am, I can’t take people’s money. It’s not right. It’s not like I’m starving or anything.”
“That’s because I feed you ten times a day,” interjected the Sarge.
“Shut up,” I told him, then a hasty, “No, not you, ma’am. I was talking to the Sarge.” She spoke for a moment and I looked at the Sarge. “She tells you to shut up too.”
“I suppose I better shut up then,” he muttered.
The Super said, “Tessie, it’s not like you were begging people for money, or even gave permission for that photo and article to be printed. And you did genuinely lose everything you owned, so I don’t have a problem with you keeping the money. I’ll send you an email to confirm that. But you should write some nice thank you notes to those who provided return addresses.”
“Even to the guy who wanted me to marry him?”
“Forget him. Although . . . did he send a photo?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Never mind. Enjoy your windfall.”
I felt almost rich, but decided I’d only use the money to buy furniture and other things I needed to set up a new house. It wouldn’t be fair to the people who sent it to me to do otherwise.
Later that night, we were enjoying an after-dinner glass of wine, and I mused over the letters.
“I can’t believe people would be so nice to me, a complete stranger to them. Some of them even said they didn’t have much money themselves, but still wanted to help me.” I swallowed hard, feeling a little emotional. “I’m so touched by that.”
“Not everyone in the world is a Bycraft, Tessie. There are lots of decent people out there.”
“I know. I’m sitting right next to one.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Mr Nice Guy.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Tessie, something I wanted to ask, but didn’t want to bring it up too early. I’m really hoping you sold that painting that Len Whittaker gave you.”
The expression on my face must have told him everything. It had still been stored at the back of my cupboard where I’d hidden it out of embarrassment.
“What a shame,” he said. “That would have been worth good money for you.”
“I couldn’t have sold it anyway. I wouldn’t want someone looking at me half-naked.”
He smiled. “It wasn’t really you half-naked. It was just his impression of you half-naked.”
“That was bad enough. It was accurate enough.”
“I would have bought it from you.”
I frowned at him. “Why?”
“For its future value, of course. Why else?” he said innocently.
“Sure.” I stood, ready for bed. “And here I was thinking you were a nice guy.”
*****
Despite seemingly being back the way we were, the memory of us kissing kept popping into my head occasionally, making me feel awkward around him at times. I decided the best thing to do was to move out. So one weekend, when he was on-call and I was free, I walked around to Miss G’s old house, and with a heavy heart started cleaning it up.
I regretted that most of the furniture had been sold, because I had none. I didn’t have very much money to buy any, and now had an entire house to furnish.
“What were you up to today?” the Sarge asked when I returned at night. He was in the kitchen preparing dinner.
I sat at the kitchen table and he poured me a glass of wine. “Cleaning up Miss G’s place so I can move in.”
He turned so I couldn’t see his face. “You don’t like living here?” he asked in a neutral voice.
“Sarge, um, Finn, I can’t sponge off you forever. I have to move on in my life, and as I have a house sitting there, I suppose I should make use of it.”
“There’s no furniture there though, is there?”
“Not much. Just a few bits and pieces left behind that I suppose nobody wanted.”
“I don’t know. Dad’s funeral costs wiped me out completely. I have the money people sent me, but that won’t furnish the whole house. I guess next payday, I’ll catch the bus to Big Town and get Ronnie to help me visit the charity stores to see what cheap furniture I can find. It doesn’t have to be fancy – I’m not fussy.”
“You know what you should do?”
“No.”
“You should do that house up. It’s a nice old house, a real diamond in the rough. It looks as though it has a sound structure. Houses used to be very well built then. You could have somewhere beautiful to live.”
I laughed. “Do it up with what? I barely have enough to pay the rates on it.”
“Did you father leave you the land your house was on?”
“I don’t know. I suppose so. I haven’t looked into it yet. I haven’t been able to face it.”
“You could sell that land, and use the money to set yourself up in your new house.”
His words struck me. “I didn’t really think of that before, but I own a house,” I said in wonder.
“There’s a lot you can do yourself in renovations to save money. I’ll be glad to help you as well.”
“Thanks, Finn. That’s so nice of you.”
“I need a hobby anyway. I have way too much spare time on my hands these days and not much to do with it. This will be a great challenge.” His blue eyes were filled with sincerity. “It might take a while, but until it’s ready, I hope you’ll still consider this to be your home.”
And I wondered afresh about how I got so lucky to have someone like him in my life.
Epilogue
The sight of the burnt out shell of the police station and lockup were a daily reminder to us of what had happened that awful night. One day, I went down to the ruins of the station and poked around in the ashes. Triumphant, I returned to the police house where the Sarge was on his computer.
I held out my hands, excited. “Look what I found.”
He picked up one of the pieces. “I sent you that. I remember it.”
“I know. Some of the crystal ones survived. I can’t believe it. Isn’t it amazing how something so beautiful can survive an ordeal like that?”
His eyes rested on me. “It’s quite amazing.” He stood. “Let’s give them a wash.” He wiped a smudge of ash from my cheek, looked at my dirty hands, and smiled. “We better give you a wash too.”
*****
It’s difficult conducting our policing activities from the Sarge’s lounge room. We’d been promised a demountable building as an interim station, and had resigned ourselves to wait forever for it to arrive. That was if it was even possible for the semi required to carry it to negotiate the steep incline of the Coastal Range. So we slummed it in his house for now.
But then the Super rang one day to tell us that the construction of a new police station for us had now become a high priority and would be fast tracked. I was going to ask her why, but then decided I didn’t care, I was just glad we would eventually have a sparkling new station.
The schoolhouse and teachers’ residence are being reconstructed, and are expected to be ready in time for the start of the school year at the end of January. If not, Abe’s offered his function room as an interim classroom.
The shopping district is slowly being rebuilt as the insurance money trickles in to the shopkeepers. The local Council is offering some small grants to help the shopkeepers get back on their feet again.
My house remains as it was the night it burnt down. I can’t bring myself to go visit it again, even though there may be personal items I can salvage from the ashes. Maybe one day soon.
*****
Early in the New Year, Jake rang me from up north to let me know he’d been successful in procuring a job at the new jail, even earning himself a small promotion in the process.
I was genuinely pleased for him, hoping that he could find a happy and fulfilling life away up there from his family – maybe even find someone who would make divorcing Chantelle enticing for him. From what he hinted, I gathered that his family was less happy about his move, a major source of income moving out of their reach. That made me even happier.
We promised to keep in touch, and we both meant it.
*****
I lost contact with Annabel as she was swallowed up by the system. Every attempt I made at tracking her down was stonewalled with claims that providing any information about her would be breaching her privacy. I think about her now and then, and hope that she’s been able to forge a successful life for her and Jamie.
*****
Dave’s heroics and hard work on the Night of the Fires, as it’s now being referred to around town, has made more than a few people regret their previous unkind behaviour towards him. Nobody’s exactly asking him to dinner yet, but people now say hello to him in the street, and Gretel told me that she would put him back on the roster to speak to the school kids about farming when the new school year starts.
It’s baby steps at this stage, but it’s a beginning.
*****
Mr X and Zelda were able to trace most of the distinctive items that Merrick had added to his personal treasure collection to burglaries that had been reported to police. Added to those charges were ones relating to maintaining a sexual relationship with a minor, as it was established that the photos of Annabel and the other teen were taken when both were under sixteen. A stash of equally vulgar photos was found during a search of his house, as well as a treasure trove of stolen items.
His trial is scheduled for a few months time, but there’s little doubt he’ll receive a prison sentence on the basis of that evidence.
The mystery of why Merrick had left the photos behind in his old house was solved when one of his other ‘girlfriends’ admitted that she’d hidden them. She told Mr X and Zelda that she was ashamed of the photos, particularly when Merrick showed them to some of the older male teens in his gang.
It is proving difficult to lay charges against Merrick’s gang members, especially as some of them are minors. All members declared themselves innocent of any crime, unanimously blaming Merrick for all thefts. It’s unlikely any of them will be able to be charged.
*****
Jamie, the boy killed by the semi-trailer, remains unidentified. No family has come forward to claim him as their own.
*****
Jenny has quit the police force and is settling in at the pub with Abe and the girls. Every time I see her, she is blooming with happiness and her baby. Their marriage plans are progressing.
*****
For some fortuitous reason, we’ve had a lull in crime in Little Town, which means we haven’t been called up to Big Town for a while. So it was by a phone call to Mr X over the Merrick case that he told me that he and Blondie were now engaged.
*****
Investigations into the fires and the destruction of property are proceeding slowly – too slowly for me. Apart from the few minor crimes the Sarge and I had personally witnessed, the dees were finding it difficult to pin particular crimes on particular Bycrafts. As always, they stuck together, everybody denying they were responsible for any criminal activity that night, but equally denying any of their relatives was responsible.
The Sarge and I have been grilled a number of times by the dees in Big Town, and I spend hours reliving that night, trying to remember exactly which Bycraft I spotted in each location.
But of course, I wasn’t present when the one crime that I most wanted to solve took place – the death of my father. Each day I become more worried that it will never be solved and those Bycrafts responsible will continue to walk past me in town.
I’ve vowed to take my revenge on them in as many ways possible.
*****
The chickens settled in well at the Sarge’s house. I’m not sure they’ll want to leave when Miss G’s house is in a habitable state for us to move in. Lady Sara has taken quite a shine to the Sarge and follows him
around the yard whenever he’s outside.
Seems like he’s found himself a new lady, after all.
*****
When I had a spare afternoon, I bought some (overpriced) flowers from Grimmell’s shop and went to the cemetery. I stood at Denny’s grave, noting that the tall grass was already encroaching. Obviously, nobody in the family had been to visit since his interment, or thought to maintain his plot. I pulled up the grass surrounding it, tidying it up. I suspected it would be a task I’d be performing more than once.
I said a quiet, heartfelt ‘thank you’ to him, and laid my flowers on his grave.
~~~~~~ ###### ~~~~~~
About the author:
JD Nixon lives in Queensland, Australia, letting a wild imagination run free.
Discover other titles by JD Nixon available at many ebook retailers:
Heller series
Book 1: Heller (free ebook!)
Book 2: Heller’s Revenge
Book 3: Heller’s Girlfriend
Book 4: Heller’s Punishment
Book 5: Heller’s Decision
Book 6: Heller’s Regret
Book 7: Heller’s Family (to be published)
Little Town series
Book 1: Blood Ties (free ebook!)
Book 2: Blood Sport
Book 3: Blood Feud
Book 4: Blood Tears