Blind Justice

by M A Comley

  CONTENTS

  Other Books by MA Comley

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Note to the Reader

  Ohter Works

  Copyright Page

  OTHER BOOKS BY

  M A COMLEY

  Cruel Justice

  Impeding Justice

  Final Justice

  Foul Justice

  Guaranteed Justice

  Ultimate Justice

  Virtual Justice

  Hostile Justice

  Tortured Justice

  Evil In Disguise—Based on True Events novel

  Torn Apart (Hero Series #1)

  End Result (Hero Series #2)

  Sole Intention (Intention Series #1)

  Grave Intention (Intention Series #2)

  Merry Widow (A Lorne Simpkins short story)

  It’s A Dog’s Life (A Lorne Simpkins short story)

  A Time To Heal (A Sweet Romance)

  A Time For Change (A Sweet Romance)

  High Spirits

  A Twist in The Tale

  The Temptation Series (Romantic Suspense/New Adult Novellas)

  Past Temptation (available now)

  Lost Temptation (available now)

  True Temptation (Coming 2015)

  Just Temptation (Coming 2015)

  Keep in touch with the author at:

  Facebook

  http://melcomley.blogspot.com

  http://melcomleyromances.blogspot.com

  Subscribe to newsletter

  BLIND JUSTICE

  New York Times bestselling author M A Comley

  This book is dedicated to my beautiful Mum, Jean, for her never-ending support.

  Special thanks to my wonderful editor Stefanie.

  And finally, my eternal thanks, go to Karri Klawiter for the wonderful cover as always, you’re a very talented lady.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Simon headed cautiously towards the restaurant, glancing around as if he were an agent on a covert operation instead of a regular guy on a lunch date. Jenny waved and beckoned him over. Smiling, he approached the table as thousands of butterflies took flight in his stomach. He knew the meeting was going to be awkward; nonetheless, he owed it to Jenny to be honest with her.

  “I’m so glad you could make it. I wasn’t sure if you would turn up,” Jenny said, her gleaming white teeth lighting up her pretty face.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You look stunning.” Simon leaned over and planted a kiss on his ex-girlfriend’s glowing cheek.

  Shyly, she turned her head. He sat in the vacant chair opposite and held an upturned hand across the table, inviting her to lay her hand in his. Tentatively, she obliged.

  “How did you manage to get away in the end? I thought the boss would have you tied up in that meeting for hours,” Jenny asked, taking a sip of her orange juice.

  “I just told him that my brain needed food to function properly and that after lunch, I would have the necessary answers for all the problems he’d raised at the meeting.”

  Jenny chuckled. “That simple, huh?”

  He grew serious. “Some things in life are super simple to achieve, whilst others can take a lifetime to solve.”

  “Meaning that you’ve made a decision about Tammy, I take it?” Jenny released his hand and tucked hers under the table.

  Damn, she looks upset now.

  “I think I have. Whether it’s the right decision or not, only time will tell.”

  “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  Simon glanced down at his soft drink, wishing he had a pint of beer to sink at that moment. “I’ve opted to give our marriage one last try, thanks to you.”

  Jenny raised her head to look at him, tears welled up in her eyes, and a strained smile creased the corners of her mouth. “I’m so pleased for you. If ever two people belonged together, it’s you two. As much as it hurts me to say this, us trying to rekindle what we once had was never really going to succeed, was it?”

  “You’re very astute. Mind you, you always were the one who put a lot of thought into how our relationship worked. Women usually do, don’t they?”

  “I tend to, at least. I can’t speak for other women, though. Does Tammy know yet?”

  “No. I called her last night to see if she wanted to go out for a meal tonight. I intend breaking the news to her then. Hopefully, a reconciliation is what she’s after, too.”

  “What? You haven’t discussed getting back together?”

  “Not in so many words.” Simon scanned the restaurant and raised his hand to get the waiter’s attention. “We should order before it gets too busy.”

  They spent the rest of the meal chatting idly about everything under the sun. Simon couldn’t help having slight regrets that, despite trying his hardest, he hadn’t been able to see Jenny in a different light, as more than the good friend she’d always been over the years. Beautiful inside and out, she was a solid friend, and nothing more.

  They left the restaurant, still chatting and laughing.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  As the sunrays filtered through the gap in the curtain, Simon turned over to give Tammy a morning cuddle. Finding the bed warm but empty, he sat up in alarm, which subsided quickly once he heard the shower running.

  During the last six months since they’d been reunited as husband and wife, things hadn’t exactly turned out the way he’d hoped they would. Mostly, everything was great between Tammy and himself, but on the odd occasion, he still caught her looking a little depressed. Thinking that getting back together with Tammy would chase off her depression had been misguided. He knew very little about the complex subject. Could the heavy weight of depression be lifted from someone’s shoulders by a loved one supplying them with endless love and compassion? Was it really that simple? Considering Tammy’s mood swings of late, that clearly wasn’t the case.

  Tammy entered the bedroom, wrapped in a towelling robe, rubbing her long blonde hair dry. “Oh, you’re awake.”

  Simon yawned, stretched, and pulled back the covers, inviting her to join him for a cuddle. “Just for five minutes, hon.”

  “I don’t have time. I’ve got an appointment first thing. I told you that. Get a move on, or you’ll be late for work.”

  He hopped out of bed and crossed the bedroom to gather her in his arms. “Spoilsport. Mr. Hotrod was eager to say good morning to you properly,” he said, referring to his morning erection as if it were starring in a porn movie.

  Tammy gave him a gentle squeeze in return before she unhitched herself and sat down in front of the dressing table mirror. As she began brushing her hair, Simon took the hint to leave her alone and jumped in the shower.

  Breakfast was a quiet affair. Before he left for work, he kissed her cheek and wished her luck on her visit to the doctor. He hoped that after having a chat, the doctor would consider changing her medication or doing anything to make their relationship more bearable for both their sakes. However, he suspected changing Tammy’s pills wouldn’t really answer their problems.

  Simon left the house and contemplated what had happened during their attempt to start afresh. Several outside influences had reared their heads, causing unnecessary problems that neither of them had anticipated. His beloved car had been keyed on one occasion, and someone had poured paint on it in another instance. The repairs had put an extra strain on the household finances and yet more strain on their marriage. But that had been nothing comp
ared to the mysterious notes that Tammy kept finding pinned to the front door over the last few months.

  Life at present just seemed full of unexpected, strange events. Simon had taken the easy way out and passed everything off as coincidence, until the notes had started turning up. They were all vindictive, more mischievous than threatening, as though someone had it in for the couple. Who on earth could be that petty or that intent on causing such futile emotional and material damage?

  Simon had begged Tammy to let him go to the police with the notes, but she had shrugged and insisted the police had better things to deal with than petty anonymous notes. Simon suspected he’d somehow ticked off one of the new neighbours. Could something so silly drive people that far out of their way to cause that much trouble? Who knows nowadays? Nothing was out of the realms of possibility, considering the reports on the local evening news.

  He returned home early from the accountancy firm where he worked, with a huge bouquet of flowers and a box of Tammy’s favourite chocolates. He found her sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window at their dishevelled garden. Simon pecked her on the cheek and sat in the chair next to her.

  “How did it go at the doc’s, love?”

  At first, Tammy acted as though he weren’t even there, appearing to be in some kind of daze. Worried, he clasped her hand in his and placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were surrounded by huge red rings, and his heart went out to her. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetie. Please?”

  She turned her head, unhitching it from his finger, and picked up the cup of cold coffee in front of her. “I’m pregnant,” she mumbled.

  Simon’s elation overwhelmed him. He dropped onto his knees, flung his arms around her, and rested his head on her stomach. “Darling, that’s wonderful news.”

  Tammy said nothing. Her demeanour quickly crushed his joy. Composing himself, he sat in his chair again and stared at her. “Aren’t you pleased about the news?”

  Tammy continued to gaze out the window, intent on avoiding eye contact. Inside, his anger mounted. What the hell is wrong with her? He waved his hand in front of her face, trying to gain her attention. He might as well have been invisible. “Tammy, love, what’s wrong?”

  Her head dropped to her chest, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “You might want this baby, but I don’t.”

  Devastation engulfed him. What in God’s name is she talking about? “But, love, we’ve often spoken about having children. You were all for it. Why the sudden change of heart?”

  Tammy shrugged wearily. “I don’t know. I’ve made an appointment to get rid of it.”

  Simon threw himself back in his chair and shook his head. “What? You can’t do that without my permission.”

  Tammy’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits, and her lip curled. “I don’t need your permission. This is my child, growing inside my body. Therefore, the decision is mine and mine alone to make.” She rose from the table and stormed out of the room.

  As his world collapsed around him, he heard her stomp across the bedroom floor above.

  What the hell was that all about?

  Stunned, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. Then he sat on the back step and contemplated what to do. He knew trying to talk to Tammy was pointless when she was in one of her strange non-listening moods. Her damning words had smashed to tiny pieces what should have been the best feeling in the world. She wanted to end their unborn child’s life before it had even begun. How can I forgive her for that? Ever?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lorne looked at her partner and cringed. How the dickens could one man be so addicted to a certain chocolate bar? “Pete, I fear I’m going to be repeating myself when I say this, but, hon, you have a real problem. And I think you need to get some professional help.”

  His chubby cheeks moved vigorously as he tried to finish his mouthful quickly in order to reply. “Right, like you don’t like the odd chocolate bar yourself.”

  “Yes, the odd bar is fine, but Christ, man, you get through at least five bars a day. That’s unhealthy by anyone else’s standards. Do you actually look in the mirror when you get dressed in the morning?”

  His eyes flickered shut, and his mouth puckered obstinately. “Nope.”

  “You know what, big man? I can totally understand that. If you did, maybe you’d see that expanding waistband of yours and shudder like I do every day on your behalf. Here’s something that’s gonna make your day.” Lorne threw him a directive she’d received from the DCI that morning and waited for him to explode.

  “Well, they can go and bloody get knotted. You won’t find me doing a hundred press-ups down at the gym.”

  “You’re going to have to get into shape, Pete. Read the end paragraph—it virtually says either you have to shape up or ship out. They’re clamping down on fitness at long last. Tell me, when was the last time you actually chased a criminal?”

  “I chase criminals every bloody day of the week,” he shot back, grinning.

  “On two feet, I mean. God, you’re beyond belief at times. I think if someone cut you open, you’d have the word frustrating running through you. Let’s just say you frustrate the hell out of me.”

  He winked at her. “Yeah, but you love me, too.”

  Lorne could do nothing but laugh. As much as she’d tried, she could never stay angry at her partner for long. Most of the time, she wanted to slap his face for being dumb, but mostly, she wanted to cuddle the fat lump for being her best mate and like a brother to her.

  The knock on the door interrupted their conversation. AJ poked his head into the room. “We’ve been notified of a dead body, ma’am.”

  “What do we know about it, AJ?”

  “Nothing much, ma’am, just that the pathologist believes it to be a female. Been dead for a while, apparently.”

  Pete left his chair and hitched up his trousers. “I’ll get the necessary details ready if you want to clear your desk a bit more.”

  Lorne cocked an eyebrow at her partner. “How magnanimous of you. Thanks, partner. I’ll be another five minutes or so here.”

  Still feeling amused, despite the bad news that they had a crime scene to attend, Lorne shook her head and rifled through the remainder of her post. Then she joined her partner in the incident room.

  “Okay, if you’ve got all the details, we should head out to the scene. Dare I ask who the attending pathologist is?” She had an inkling that the scene would turn out to be on her least favourite pathologist’s patch.

  Pete sniggered. “Yep, the French boy is at the scene.”

  “Bugger! And there was me thinking the day had started off so damn well, apart from having to contend with a pig munching on his unhealthy breakfast in my office.” She spun on her heel and left her gobsmacked detective sergeant staring at her open-mouthed. “Come on, matey. Time’s a-wasting. The last thing we want to do is get Arnaud’s back up any more than we do already.”

  • • •

  The marquee and the crowd of people walking around in head-to-toe white paper overalls indicated they had arrived at the correct location. Lorne swallowed the bile rising in her throat. It wasn’t the thought of confronting the dead body that worried her. She dreaded the welcome she would receive from the pathologist. She’d had more than a few run-ins with Arnaud over the previous months. Lorne got the impression that he didn’t get on well with the police. Or maybe it’s just me he can’t stand being close to at crime scenes.

  Pete leaned over and said out of the corner of his mouth, “You look nervous. You show that, and he’ll pounce on you right away. Chillax, and it’ll puzzle him.”

  Lorne dug him in the ribs and smiled. “Thanks for the pep talk. Let’s get this over with.” Lorne inhaled a lungful of fresh air and set a false smile on her face before she slipped into the tent. Pete followed closely behind.

  “Dr. Arnaud, nice to see you again. What can you tell us about the victim?” Her request was met by an uncomfortable
silence. Infuriated, she walked closer to the pathologist, who stuck out his arm, preventing her from getting too close to the body.

  “Stand back. My people haven’t finished collecting evidence from the surroundings yet. You should know the drill by now, Inspector.” His trademark thick French accent and good looks made most of her female colleagues go weak at the knees. Not Lorne, though. Maybe that’s what pisses him off.

  Lorne retreated several feet and glared at the back of his head. The insufferable man hadn’t even had the decency to look up at her since she’d arrived. His attitude made her pig-sick at times, but she was prepared to forgive some of his arrogance because he was one of the best pathologists in Europe. His notoriety made it far more difficult to go the full hog and say she detested the man.

  “I repeat, what can you tell us about the victim, Doctor?”

  “You know better than to ask that question at the scene, Inspector. Do we really have to go through the same routine every time we meet?” Again, he refused to make eye contact with her when he spoke.

  What a pig you are. I have every right to ask the most obvious questions at the scene.

  He left her squirming and getting more irate, then he finally said, “The victim is female. That’s all I’m prepared to offer at this early stage, Inspector.”

  Lorne closed her eyes, trying to pluck up the courage to ask her next question, praying that he wouldn’t bite her head off. “And when do you propose carrying out the post mortem?”

  Arnaud’s gaze ate into hers until she nervously turned away and glanced down at what was left of the decaying victim.

  “Either today or tomorrow. Do you wish to attend the PM?”

  Lorne gulped. “Yes. If your office can ring and let me know when it will definitely take place, I’ll be sure to be there.” Without giving Arnaud the chance to say anything further, Lorne turned and headed out of the marquee.

  Pete trotted out behind her. “He’s priceless, ain’t he?” Pete said as they climbed back in the car to head back to the station.