by Joan Kilby
“Abduction of a minor,” Riley reminded him, jerking on the handcuffs. “You crims are never as smart as you think you are.”
“We didn’t mean to keep Jamie a prisoner. At least, I didn’t,” Loretta said to Paula. “We only wanted him here for his great-grandma’s birthday.”
“I get that. I’m taking Nick in for questioning in relation to alleged drug offences in Summerside. If he cooperates, I’ll drop the abduction charges.”
Loretta understood what that meant. “Nicky will tell you whatever you want to know. Nicky, do you hear me?”
Then she touched Jamie on the cheek. “Come back and visit soon, bambino.”
Riley started to lead Nick out.
Paula stopped him. “Let him say goodbye to his grandmother.”
Eyebrows raised, Riley stepped back and allowed his prisoner a moment with the matriarch. While they waited he put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder and squeezed. “You were brave.”
Then over the boy’s head he said to Paula, “You’re ruining your tough-cop image, you know. What’ll the guys say in the locker room?”
“I don’t give a damn what anyone says. I know I did the right thing.” However Paula kept her gaze fixed on their prisoner to make sure the old bat didn’t slip him a .38 special. “Good work, Constable. If I were you, I’d be applying for detective.”
She turned to Loretta. “Where are the owners?”
The woman in the blue dress stepped out from the living room. “I’m Tina Tibaldi. My husband is upstairs.”
“Tell him and the other men to come down and bring their weapons. Again, if they cooperate they’ll be dealt with lightly. My men will be coming in.”
Tina ran up the staircase.
Holding Jamie’s hand Paula stepped outside. Riley followed with his prisoner. To Paula’s surprise Jackson and Crucek weren’t taking cover but were standing on the front lawn.
“Go inside. Confiscate the guns but don’t make any arrests.” She squeezed Jamie’s shoulder. “Come on, mate. It’s time we went home.”
* * *
RILEY’S LEAST FAVORITE thing about policing was the paperwork. As a two-fingered typist he had a serious disadvantage. Paula had taken Jamie home, no doubt to do some serious mollycoddling. Riley took Moresco’s statement then transferred him to the Frankston lockup before going to the Summerside station to file his report. Finally around 9:00 p.m. he hit Save then Print. The printer whirred into life and began to spit out the document.
Movement to his left made him look up. Paula had returned, wearing a summery dress and sandals. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
She pulled up a chair and sat. “Jamie’s asleep with my mother standing watch. She’s got a cricket bat by the door and a can of pepper spray on the hall table. But that’s just for her peace of mind. With Nick locked up, I don’t anticipate any more trouble.”
“We won’t be able to hold him for long,” Riley said. “I questioned him for two hours. There’s no evidence to link him to crystal meth in Summerside.”
“We have to keep digging. How is the boy who OD’d?” Paula leaned over to take a page of his report as it emerged from the printer. Her perfume—or maybe it was her shampoo—wafted over him.
“He’s stabilized, doing okay.” Riley leaned forward as she read, reluctant to let her out of his olfactory range. “You smell terrific.”
“You’re just saying that because you’ve been sitting in one of those stinky interview rooms for hours.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Why had she worn that dress if she wasn’t open to a little flirtation? He blew out a sigh that expressed his frustration on more than one level. “We don’t have any other leads. Maybe Moresco’s clean, as he says.”
“Something is bound to turn up, sooner or later.” She continued to scan the report. “The other guys go home?”
“Yep.” Riley collected the remaining pages. “After they catalogued and stored the small arsenal of weapons they confiscated.”
“I was grateful they were there as back up. I intend to tell them so at the first opportunity.”
“We could have booked Moresco’s cousins on firearms offences. And maybe more if we’d searched the house.”
“We didn’t have a warrant for that.”
“Did you mean what you said to Loretta about letting her see Jamie? I can’t believe you’d still be making deals with the devil.” Riley took the page from her, stacked it with the others and stapled them together.
“Is that what you think?”
“Does it matter what I think?” he asked softly, searching her eyes.
“It matters. A lot.”
He let a couple of beats go by. “I think you were lying. I think you did what you had to do. As always.”
She glanced away, touching the corner of her eyes with her knuckles.
Riley wanted to take her hand but he wasn’t sure how she’d receive that. “That family…” He shook his head. “Mark my words, they’ll be making a telemovie about them some day.”
“Grandma is something else, isn’t she?” Paula glanced back, laughing. “I thought for a moment she was going to raise that cane of hers and start strafing us with automatic gunfire.”
“I think she came from the old country to see how her crime dynasty was doing, not for a birthday party.”
Paula shuddered. “I can’t stop thinking about Nick wanting Jamie to follow in his footsteps.”
“I wouldn’t put it past the old lady to have tried to smuggle him on the plane with her.” Riley yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “Man, I’m tired. I could sleep for a week.”
“That’s too bad.” Paula crossed her legs so that her dress slid above her knee. “I made a booking at that new French restaurant in the village for a late dinner. I think champagne is in order.”
“Suddenly I have a second wind. As long as you don’t order me to eat snails, that is. Let me drop this in John’s in-tray. Then go home and shower and change.” He glanced her way. “Hope you’re not too hungry.”
“I’m starving.” A sly smile curved her lips. “I’ll come with you. We can call the restaurant from your house and tell them we’ll be late.”
Whistling, Riley scooped up the report and deposited it.
Paula joined him at the door to the parking lot. “So tell me, how did you get past Moresco’s sharpshooters?”
“Trade secret,” Riley said smugly. She punched him in the arm, surprisingly hard. “Ow. Note to self—don’t piss off the boss.”
She held the door open for him. “Come on, spill.”
“It was simple,” Riley said, using the remote to unlock the Audi. “I got Jackson and Crucek to cause a diversion. They came out of hiding and took up positions on the lawn to make it appear they were getting ready to storm the house.”
He opened the passenger door for her. Paula slid inside and arranged her skirt. Riley waited until he was in the driver’s seat and strapped in before continuing. “While that was going on I went to the end of the block and came toward the house through the backyards, over the neighbor’s fence and into Tina and Matteo’s side yard.”
“How did you get into the house?”
“The laundry room door. Can you believe it? They just had a simple push-button lock.”
“You could lead training sessions for the guys.”
“I could.” He started the car and eased onto the road. “But I might not have much time once I sit my detective exams.”
Her eyebrows rose but she didn’t respond to that. Instead she said, “You were pretty cool out there today. Do you think your PTSD is cured?”
Riley turned onto the main street, slowing for a young couple crossing from the supermarket to the row of shops and delis. “Today I felt the adrenaline rush you always get g
oing into an unknown situation with potential danger. But I didn’t have symptoms of acute anxiety. I’m going to keep up the sessions with the shrink for a while, if that’s what you mean.”
“Could you have fired your gun if you had to?”
Riley met her gaze. “I believe I could.”
He drove a couple more blocks before he turned right. Then he pulled over. To hell with this pussyfooting around. Riley leaned over and cupping her cheek, kissed her soundly, tenderly, taking his time. He wanted her. He wanted her forever.
He murmured against her lips, “I’ll be asking you for a recommendation.”
“For your application to make detective? You’re not allowed to get promoted till I am. But I think I could sign off on a recommendation.” Paula reached her arms around his neck and drew him close. “Just give me one more example of how you operate so I can be sure.”
* * *
“I HAVE A CONFESSION to make,” Paula said, very early the next morning. After dinner the night before they’d gone to her house and let her exhausted mother go home for some well-deserved rest.
“Should I book the interview room, get out my tape recorder?” Riley idly sifted his fingers through her hair. He would never get enough of the silky texture, the living gold.
Ignoring his lame joke, she propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. Her expression was serious.
“What is it?” He found himself holding his breath.
“I wanted to sleep with Nick.”
The breath released—he’d known that—but his chest was still tight. He kept silent. What did she expect him to say?
“Don’t you want to know why?”
“Not really.” Why would he want to hear how sophisticated and charming she found a criminal who preyed on human weakness and destroyed lives? Riley could look past her weakness. Wasn’t that enough? She thought he was jealous—and he was, a little. But she had so much strength and goodness in her that he hated anything that reflected badly on her.
“After my father was killed, Mum and I struggled, not just financially but emotionally. Dad was the rock on whom we both depended,” Paula continued anyway. It almost seemed as though she was speaking to herself, not Riley. “I floundered for the next few years, questioning the meaning of it all, railing against fate. It was teenage angst magnified by grief.”
“I’m sorry.” Riley pulled her closer. He knew how that felt.
“When I met Nick, at first I saw him in black and white, as pure evil. But as I got to know him, the shades of gray crept in. He took care of his family, he would do anything for them at the drop of a hat. His brothers, cousins, mother…they only had to ask.”
“It helped that he had buckets of money at his disposal,” Riley pointed out dryly.
“When he started taking care of me, in an odd way and despite my being an undercover cop, I felt…safe.”
“Safe?” Riley snorted. “Far from it.”
“I know,” she said patiently. “Didn’t I qualify that remark? I know now it was all an illusion. As well as being kind to those close to him, Nick can be terrifyingly ruthless. But as long as he believed I was a massage therapist and loyal to him, I was golden.” She paused to think. “Maybe I was looking for a father figure, someone to take care of me.”
I’ll take care of you. The thought leaped to Riley’s mind. He knew better than to voice it. Her explanation hadn’t changed anything as far as he was concerned. But he could see that something in her had changed. She could accept herself. That was enough for now.
“Anyway, you were right—I was attracted to him. I just didn’t want to admit it.” She sighed. “But I’m cured, completely and utterly over him. I’m a cop and an adult. I can take care of myself.”
“Even cops have partners.” Riley kissed her lightly. “Even grown-ups look out for each other. Needing someone in your life isn’t a weakness. It’s what makes us human.”
“I—I need you,” she said in a husky whisper. “Jamie does, too.”
Was this, then, what she was really confessing? It didn’t look easy for his tough detective to say. Riley was finding it hard to speak himself. He touched his lips to hers, feeling her warmth, the softness of her skin. “If you want me, if you…trust me, I’ll have your back—and Jamie’s—always.”
Her tears spilled over. She buried her face in his neck. “Yes. Oh, Riley, I love you so much.”
The words were muffled but he heard, and rejoiced. “I love you, too.” The lump in his throat garbled his words but he got them out.
She drew back, wiping her eyes, smiling brilliantly. “I think I hear Jamie up. Shall we go tell him?”
“Definitely. You and Jamie are coming to Canberra with me next week for the ANZAC Day ceremony, aren’t you?”
“Canberra?” Paula sat up in bed. “What’s wrong with Melbourne?”
“My army mates meet every year for the ceremony at the National War Museum. I bought airplane tickets for us all. I wanted it to be a surprise. My dad and stepmother are coming, too. It’s the first time I’ve taken part in the ceremony since I was discharged. It’s special.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She hugged him. “Jamie will be over the moon.”
* * *
IN THE DARK OF A CRISP Canberra predawn, a lone trumpet sounded reveille. Riley stood at attention with his fellow SAS mates, Gazza, Pete, Simpkins, Dunlop and Blue. Riley’s father was standing a few rows away with members of his regiment who’d fought together in Vietnam.
The year of being incommunicado hadn’t mattered to Riley’s mates. They’d warmly welcomed him back into their ranks as if there’d been no estrangement. He and Pete held each other for a long hard hug that left both of them brushing their eyes afterward.
Thousands of veterans and civilians were gathered for the ceremony commemorating Australian soldiers’ contribution to all wars. It was a sad occasion, Riley thought. There was no glory in war but it was important to bear witness to those who had fallen.
Nabili and her students were at the forefront of his mind. Not as they appeared in his nightmares, but as he remembered them in life, quietly engaged in teaching and learning. The young girls’ shy giggles and their thirst for knowledge, the way they flung their hands in the air in their eagerness to answer questions. Nabili’s leadership and courage had been an inspiration. He felt privileged to have known her.
The ceremony continued with speeches and prayers and the laying of the wreath at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Then the ceremony was over and the trumpeter stepped up to play The Last Post.
Riley lowered his head in a silent prayer to Nabili and her students. Forgive me. If he had to do it over again, he wasn’t sure he could do anything different.
When the final lonely note sounded, Riley raised his head. He sought out Paula and Jamie in the crowd of civilians. She was standing with Sandra, their two blonde heads bright spots in the pale morning light.
Paula met his gaze and smiled. One chapter of his life had ended. A new one was beginning. He saw Jamie waving at him and grinned.
With the official ceremony over, the soldiers disbanded, to regroup in a few hours for the march.
Riley arranged to meet his mates then he went to find Paula and Jamie. He kissed Paula and squeezed Jamie’s shoulder.
“Am I really going to march with you and all the soldiers in the parade?” Jamie asked.
“You bet.” Riley unpinned the Victoria Cross for Australia from the row on his left breast and attached it to the boy’s thick pullover sweater. “There you go, soldier.”
Jamie touched the brass and ribbon in awe. “What’s it for?”
“Bravery in combat. You deserve it after what you went through.” Riley gave Paula a twisted smile. “He deserves it more than me.”
She shook her head. “Didn’t you ever wa
tch the Wizard of Oz?”
“Yes, but—” He wrinkled his brow trying to get the connection. “Refresh my memory.”
“The lion that thought he was a coward? You don’t need medals to be brave.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember now. Weren’t there some evil monkeys? I liked the Scarecrow best. We should watch that together. I bet Jamie would love it.”
“Whatever you say.” She leaned up to kiss him, her eyes full of love. “Partner.”
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459226463
Copyright © 2012 by Joan Kilby
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