The Negotiator

by Chris Taylor

  Cally smiled back at him. “Exactly. But you know, sometimes it’s nice to meet a familiar face. I guess I do miss that a little bit.”

  “How often do you go back?”

  She bit her lip. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We haven’t been back to Armidale since my aunt died. I’ve never been back to Watervale.”

  His arms tightened around her again and his lips pressed against her hair. “Thank you for telling me.”

  They lay in silence, listening to the sounds of the old house as it settled in for the night. Her eyes were sore and heavy. A day at the beach, topped with her emotional outburst had left her drained and exhausted. The comforting feel of Andy’s warm chest and the strong, steady beat of his heart made her feel safe and secure. Her eyes drifted closed.

  * * *

  Cally’s breathing deepened. Andy moved slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position. Protectiveness surged through him. It hadn’t been easy for her to relive memories that brought her so much pain—just as it hadn’t been for him. He couldn’t help but admire her courage.

  She’d been abandoned by everyone she’d loved—her jerk of a boyfriend, her callous parents. Even her beloved aunt had abandoned her in death. And yet, she’d risen above it, proving she was a fighter. She’d finished her schooling and had gone to college. She’d secured a job in her profession. She’d raised a son almost on her own and had forged a life for them both.

  Lately, times had been a little tough, but she hadn’t given up. She’d found a second job and when that hadn’t resolved their problems, she’d come up with another solution.

  He couldn’t help feeling grateful that it had been him she’d come to that night, asking for permission to hang up her notice. That small stroke of luck meant he now found himself in this moment—lying on a couch in the dark with the woman of his dreams in his arms.

  He smiled softly at the irony of him growing up in Tamworth with Cally living only an hour away and couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if their paths had crossed earlier.

  Despite the numerous government-funded therapists he’d endured as a child during the long, uncertain years after the shootings, the wounds he carried from that awful time were still bone deep. The dark moments when he blamed himself for what had happened and questioned whether he deserved to find happiness would catch him off guard when he least expected it and he would see once again his little sister—beautiful, innocent Grace—who hadn’t been given such a chance.

  After telling Cally about his past, the pain didn’t hurt quite so much, but it was still there, just like the pain he felt each time he thought of Wayne Tucker. He squeezed his eyes shut against the rush of memories of what had occurred earlier in the week.

  Tom and the other negotiators had assured him it was normal; that the self-blame of losing a man you were responsible for never went away. Over time, it lessened, but it was best if he accepted it would always be a part of his life.

  It was what made his job matter. It spurred him on to try again, to try and eradicate the pain of failure, with the sweet relief of success. Tom had urged Andy yet again to focus on his successes. It was the only way to survive.

  Andy hoped Tom knew what he was talking about. He couldn’t bear to think about giving up his job. From the time he was ten, he’d wanted to be a negotiator; he wanted to prove they could win. Time and time again, he had. And then Wayne Tucker had happened…

  Andy sighed heavily and resettled himself on the couch in an effort to get comfortable. Cally’s face was peaceful in sleep. Even though his arm had gone numb beneath her, he was loathe to wake her. Resigning himself to lying there a little longer, he closed his eyes and also sought the succor of sleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Andy’s cell phone rang, waking him from a deep sleep. It had been way past late when he woke on the couch with Cally still asleep in his arms. He’d carefully carried her to her bedroom, knowing she’d be more comfortable there. For long moments, he’d stared down at her sleeping form, praying for the day he could join her. Now, he reached for his phone on the nightstand and glanced at the caller ID.

  It was Will.

  “Hey, mate. A bit early to be calling, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sorry, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. Savannah went into labor early this morning. I’m a father! I have a son!”

  A pang of envy went through Andy, even as he smiled at the excitement and awe in Will’s voice. “Congratulations, that’s great news,” he said and meant it. “I assume everything went well?”

  “Aside from the fact he arrived a couple of weeks early, everything’s fine. Savannah’s resting and Cole’s screaming the hospital down. For such a little fellow, he has a darn fine set of lungs.”

  Andy’s heart clenched. “You named him after your brother.”

  Will’s voice was rough with emotion. “Yeah. Cole Dylan, after my brother and Savannah’s.”

  Andy recalled the heartaches Savannah and Will faced a little over a year earlier when each of them lost their only sibling in tragic circumstances.

  “He sounds perfect,” Andy said, his voice thick.

  “He is perfect,” Will replied quietly. “He looks just like his mother.”

  * * *

  Cally pulled the back door closed quietly behind her and double-checked the lock before walking with Jack toward their car. She hadn’t seen Andy that morning and could only assume he was still asleep. Thrusting aside the surge of disappointment, she focused on the check she had in her handbag and reminded herself to look in the phone book after work and find a tire dealer. She hadn’t seen a whisker of the blue Camry since Andy moved in, but driving around without a spare still made her nervous.

  Climbing in, she reached over the back to unlock Jack’s door. The remote control on her car keys died a long time ago and she didn’t have the money to replace it. She was lucky her early model Toyota could be opened manually, otherwise she’d have to get it fixed. Just another occasion when the money didn’t stretch as far as it needed to.

  But that could all change now with the check Andy had given her. It would certainly come in handy for the many things they needed and had gone a long time without. She still couldn’t believe he’d paid so much rent in advance. He was either a good saver or police work paid more than she’d assumed.

  A third possibility occurred to her and she frowned. He could have borrowed the money off a friend, like he’d borrowed the truck and trailer. He could be trying to impress her with his wealth when all along, he was as broke as she was.

  That would explain his reluctance to show them his condominium. If he did live in Bondi, which she was now beginning to seriously doubt, it was probably in some awful dump at the bottom of someone else’s basement. She’d been warned about places like that by one of the realtor’s she’d contacted when she’d been in the rental market herself.

  Usually dark and dank and smelling of mildew, they were not the sort of place you’d be proud to call home. Was that why he’d been so reluctant to show them? Was he ashamed of where he lived?

  She didn’t know and at the moment, she didn’t care. The money he’d given her would go a long way to easing the pressure of her financial situation. It would be more than enough to cover her outstanding bills and even allow her to get a little ahead on her home loan.

  It was what she’d wanted. So why wasn’t she jumping with joy?

  Cally sighed. Was he stooping to subterfuge to win her approval? She hated to think he thought her so shallow that she’d judge him on the size of his bank balance. She, of all people, knew what it was like to find herself short. That usually had nothing whatsoever to do with the kind of person she was.

  “Mom, can we go now?”

  With an impatient sound in the back of her throat, Cally turned the key in the ignition and reversed out of the driveway, but it wasn’t long before her thoughts returned to Andy. This time, they were far more erotic. She remembered how it felt to have her breasts crush
ed against his chest, with shivery warmth spreading from her belly to her breasts, hardening her nipples. She’d never been so aware of her own body…or so aware of a man’s.

  She recalled making out in the car and the feel of Andy’s hand molding her breast. She blushed when she thought of her wantonness. Considering her only experience with a man had been with Stewart, she hardly recognized the woman she’d become in Andy’s arms. She could no longer deny she wanted her roommate. With a passion.

  She’d thought keeping her distance would be easy, even when the thought of having him near made her heart pound. She hadn’t counted on how quickly she’d fall under his spell.

  She smiled softly. For the first time in a long, long time, happiness warmed her from the inside out. Money or no money, heartache or not, she no longer cared. For Andy, she was willing to risk it.

  * * *

  Nikki tipped the rum bottle to her lips and greedily drank the last of it. Tossing it to the floor, she let the slow burn of alcohol do its magic.Her head thumped. She felt like shit. She’d felt like shit for a week. No—more than a week. He’d dumped her on a Friday.

  It was early Monday evening and she could barely get off the floor. A pile of vomit pooled on the carpet nearby and she could only presume it was hers. She lived alone. It didn’t take much figuring to work out where it came from.

  Images of Andy whirled through her head, speeding up like a rollercoaster on the downhill run. Seconds later, the dull glow of anger that had burned inside her for over a week ignited into fury.

  He’d dumped her, and for what? Time to sort out his problems, time he needed on his own. She laughed mirthlessly at the memory, knowing it was a load of shit. She’d gone online and had tracked down some stories in a paper that had been written about a tragic incident in his hometown.

  She’d been shocked to discover Bob Warwick was a loser and a drunk and that Andy’s family had been dirt poor. It was so far removed from the suave man-about-town she’d dated, she’d initially doubted the reports. But the more she investigated, the more truth she uncovered, right down to the final, shocking tragedy.

  There had been a picture of Andy and his mother in the paper. It was easy to see the resemblance. The blond hair, the solemn eyes—there was no mistaking it was him. She’d thought the shootings were the end of it—as if they hadn’t been bad enough. But then she discovered the later article, detailing his mother’s suicide.

  According to the newspaper report, she’d cleverly managed to save up her meds until one night, she took them all. Quietly and without any disturbance Marion Warwick drifted out of this world and left her only surviving child alone, to battle out his life in foster homes until he reached his age of majority.

  For some, it might have elicited sympathy, but for Nikki, it only triggered her disgust. How could he have dated her for more than twelve months and not have the guts to tell her about his past? Mental illness could be hereditary and while domestic violence wasn’t, the stats supported the claim that a person who was abused often became an abuser.

  She’d intended to spend her life with this man; would have jumped at the chance if he’d offered. She shuddered now at her lucky escape and wondered how she could make him pay for all that she’d suffered—or more precisely, would have suffered.

  Dragging herself to her feet, she stumbled to the liquor cabinet and pulled down her last bottle of rum. Unscrewing the lid, she took a healthy gulp and tried to come up with a plan.

  A little while later, she had it.

  With a smile, she thought through the details. She’d make an anonymous phone call to his station and make sure he was rostered on. Then she’d set up a mock-suicide nearby, knowing he’d get the call. She’d make him think she was going to do it and watch him beg and plead for her life. Of course, in the end, she’d let him save her and then she’d tell him the truth: She’d only been fucking with his head. It was no more than he deserved.

  * * *

  Andy dumped his wallet and keys in his locker and made his way through to the squad room. It was a little after six. His twelve-hour nightshift was about to start. He passed Tom in the corridor and nodded a friendly greeting.

  “How’s it going, Andy? How did your moving go?”

  “Yeah, it went well, thanks Tom. And thanks again for the use of your truck and trailer.”

  “Anytime, mate. I was happy to help. I’m glad to hear it worked out.”

  Andy nodded and smiled and then grinned wide. “Yeah, it’s going to work out. I think it really is.”

  “So, you’re ready to tell me about her. That’s progress, no doubt about it. I’m happy for you, mate. I really am. It’s about time I saw a smile on your face.”

  “Yeah, lately, it’s been a tough gig. But I’m coming out the other side and a lot of it has to do with you. I want to thank you for listening and for encouraging me to keep going. After losing Wayne Tucker, I wanted nothing more to do with the job and you managed to change my mind. I owe you one, Tom. I won’t forget it.”

  Color crept up Tom’s neck and he averted his face, but from the grateful smile that played around his mouth, Andy could tell he was pleased. He had every right to be. He’d done a good job of convincing Andy he had a lot more to offer the team. There were plenty of other lost souls who would rely on his skills to save them. They were the ones he had to keep in his sights, not the ones who chose to end it.

  On his way back to his desk, Andy glanced up at the clock. Six-twenty. His gut tightened in anticipation. Cally was due in ten minutes.

  He hadn’t spoken to her all day and was way past eager to see her. The house had been lonely without her and time and again, his thoughts had strayed to their moments in the car and later, on the couch. He wanted to hold her again, to press kisses all over her skin, but his shift had only just started. It would be hours before he’d be home.

  Home. That’s how he’d started to think about it. Home was with Cally and Jack. They belonged together, he was certain of it. He only had to convince her.

  The squad room door opened. He swiveled around in his seat and caught sight of her. His heart jumped. Jack trailed in behind her.

  * * *

  Cally spotted Andy as soon as she walked through the door. He was in his usual position at his overcrowded desk and she couldn’t help the thrill of excitement that raced through her at the sight of him.

  He was dressed in the same work clothes she’d seen him in before, but now she knew what he felt like beneath his clothes, she found herself blushing furiously.

  “Hi, Andy!” Jack went straight up to him.

  Cally was grateful for the few moments it gave her to compose herself.

  “How was school, buddy?” He ruffled Jack’s hair.

  “Pretty good. It was my turn for news and I told everyone about you and the huge TV and about going to Bondi with Jimmy and snorkeling and stuff.” Jack grinned up at him. “Everyone thought it was so cool!”

  Andy smiled. His gaze flicked up to hers. “Hey.” His voice was soft, questioning.

  She blushed again under the impact of his heated gaze. “Hey.”

  “How was school?”

  “It was okay.” She paused. “I missed you this morning.”

  “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t set an alarm. I was on nightshift, so I didn’t bother. I spent all day wishing I had.”

  “So did I,” she whispered, and when she leaned in close his groin flooded with hot desire.

  Before he could respond to her admission, Tom strode up and halted near Andy’s desk, his expression grim. “I’ve just taken a call from emergency services. There’s a woman on the Harbour Bridge. Christ knows how she climbed up there, but she’s threatening to throw herself off.”

  Andy’s heart pounded and adrenaline surged through his veins. He glanced at Cally and she nodded, understanding in her eyes. He squeezed her hand briefly in acknowledgement and headed straight for his locker. The mental preparation required for a negotiation had already begun.

&nb
sp; * * *

  “Do we have a name?” Andy asked, as soon as he and Tom and the other negotiators had arrived at the scene. They’d been met by a couple of general duty officers, who’d been sent on ahead to secure the stronghold. Already, a crowd had gathered, all straining to catch a glimpse of the woman who stood high above them on a girder that formed part of the Harbour Bridge.

  “Yeah,” a young constable identified by his badge as “Williams” replied. “I’m afraid she’s one of our own. “It’s Senior Sergeant Nicole Simons. She’s currently stationed at Penrith.”

  Andy reeled back in shock and shook his head. “Nikki Simons—are you sure?”

  “I think so, sir. One of the other officers recognized her. They went through the Academy together.”

  Tom stared hard at Andy, concern etched into his brow. “Is this the same Nikki I met the other night? The one I escorted outside?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” He squinted up to where the figure of a woman could be seen high above them. “It looks like her.”

  “Leave this one to me. I’m not sure you should even be here.”

  “She keeps asking for Andy Warwick,” Williams interrupted. “Which one of you is he?”

  Andy’s stomach plummeted. “It’s me,” he offered quietly. “I’m Andy Warwick.”

  Tom grabbed hold of his arm and pulled Andy away from the others. “No, Andy. You can’t do this. I don’t give a fuck who she’s asking for. You’re way too close to the source. Think about Nikki. How can you give it your best? Your judgment will be clouded by your relationship. You need to leave this one to me.”

  “But, she’s asking for me. I can’t just ignore her. She’ll know I’m here. She probably planned to do it on my turf.”

  “That might be so, but it doesn’t change anything. We need to get her down. That’s the only thing that matters and today you’re not the best one for the job.”

  Andy stared at Tom a moment longer and then nodded. Tom was right. Apart from the fact Tom was far more experienced, he didn’t have a history with their jumper. There was nothing to interfere with his concentration and that could mean life or death.