Tallowwood

by N. R. Walker

  Jake blew out a breath. So much for asking for time to go to Sydney . . . “Yeah. Hirsch is always going on about bad media attention and unwanted people in his town.”

  Vulic laughed, but then she glanced over at August, then back to Jake again. “Where you guys off to?”

  Jake pointed straight ahead. “Up to the dam. Want to take a look at something.”

  “Fair enough,” she replied. “It’s supposed to rain this afternoon, so you might wanna make it quick. These guys’ll all pack up and go as soon as it starts.”

  “Yeah, no worries,” Jake said. “Tell McNeill not to lock the gate until we come back.”

  She gave a bit of a salute and Jacob drove off, taking the dirt road slow and steady.

  “What do you reckon Hirsch and Kenny were really fighting over?” August asked.

  “Don’t know.” He shot August a quick glance. “Hirsch is a grumpy old stick-in-the-mud, but I’ve never heard of him losing his temper before. And for him to yell at a superior officer?” Jake shook his head. “I mean, I know he’s stressed over finding these bodies in his jurisdiction, but damn . . .”

  “Maybe Kenny said something out of line,” August suggested.

  Jake snorted. “How many times has a superior said something out of line, or downright stupid, and you’ve yelled at them?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Okay, bad example,” Jake said. “Let me rephrase that. I’ve never yelled at a superior officer. I don’t know anyone who has. Except, perhaps, you.”

  August gave him a rueful smile. “I have. I’m not proud of it, but he was out of line and being an arsehole, so I told him as much.”

  “Did you get a suspension?” Jake spared a quick glance to August, but he had to concentrate on the road. “Can’t imagine any brass taking that well.”

  “I took some personal time,” he replied quietly. “My decision, though he didn’t argue the point. It . . . wasn’t a good time.”

  Jake took that little sliver of information and tucked it away.

  The road, which was more dirt track than actual road, was bumpier as it rounded further into the mountain. It was narrow, lined by thick rainforest, ferns and moss covered almost everything, and they could hear the birds call and cry even with the windows up.

  “It’s pretty up here,” August said quietly.

  “It is,” Jake agreed. “It makes you feel like you’re a world away. Well, in winter it does. Hardly no one comes up here, but in summer it’s busier.” They rounded the final turn and the trees gave way to a clearing and a large dam.

  “Oh,” August murmured. “I can see why.”

  The dam itself was a natural watercourse, formed in a socket where the mountains met. The mountain top rose up at the right, but the land flattened out a little before it dropped away to the next valley and rise of the adjoining mountain. Trees lined every backdrop, vines and moss covered the trees, but there was a grassy reserve around the left side of the dam where Jake stopped the Patrol.

  “People camp on this side,” Jake explained. “It can get pretty busy, but like I said before, it’s really only the hardcore campers that come up here. Anyone who prefers toilets and hot showers doesn’t come here.”

  August took a deep breath. He pulled his coat around him and flicked his collar up. “It’s beautiful.”

  Jake smiled at him. “If not a bit cold.”

  “Well, yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s winter. Cold tends to be a thing that happens in winter.”

  Jake laughed. “Okay, smartarse, but if that keeps rolling in—” He pointed to the low mist-like clouds, dark and gloomy. “—we’re leaving. I don’t care if you’re finished looking for whatever you want to look for.”

  The corner of August’s lip curled upward. “Okay, boss.” August walked toward the tree line at the left, on the grassy side of the dam, then he kept walking into the forest. The greenery and shadows seemed to eat him up.

  “Hey, wait up,” Jake called out. “You shouldn’t just go wandering in there. Do you know how many people get themselves lost in rainforests?”

  He stopped about twenty metres in. The undergrowth was far too dense for him to go much further in any direction. He turned and gave Jake a nod. “I can see your point.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Another citrus tree,” August replied, walking back to him. “Proverbial or literal. Anything out of the ordinary.”

  “In just this one spot? Or the whole rainforest?”

  “Around the dam to begin with.” He had to step up onto a log, and Jacob held out his hand, which August took. Jake pulled him up and August came to a stop well within Jacob’s personal space. He met Jake’s gaze, and Jake could see flecks of blue in the grey. “Then the whole rainforest if I have to.”

  August walked back out into the clearing, then up a few metres, then he went back into the forest. He did this a few times, making slow but consistent progress on the perimeter of the dam. Then Jacob did every second one, alternating, so they doubled their efforts in half the time. They each couldn’t venture in too far, and they always kept the other in their sights.

  “Nothing here,” Jake called out as he walked back to the clearing. “Not that I can see, anyway.”

  August was looking toward the top of the dam where a seldom-used track snaked into the forest. “What’s that lead to?”

  “It’s the old fire trail,” Jake explained. “There are trails all over the tops of the mountains so the rural fireys can get in and out, do backburning, that kind of thing.”

  “Where does that trail lead to?”

  “Across the mountain, west,” Jacob said. “It runs north of Tallowwood, but I’d have to check my maps to be sure.”

  August’s brow furrowed. “Does the public use them?”

  “They’re not supposed to, but I’m sure some do. What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Another access point, another exit point.” He frowned. “Is there anything along that trail or just more jungle and spooky mist?”

  “Yeah, I dunno. I’ve never been up there. And we won’t be going up it today,” Jake said, looking skyward. “That spooky mist you mentioned is cloud. We’re standing in it. I’m wet enough, but you must be drenched.”

  August was wearing a suit, for fuck’s sake. He looked down at himself. His pants were dark and wet, which meant his shoes must be soaked. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t really notice it.”

  “Come on,” Jake said, nodding to the Patrol. “We better get going back.”

  And right on cue, thunder rolled in surround sound and the heavens opened. “Shit!” August cried, and they ran back to the Patrol. They climbed into their seats, puffing and laughing. “Well, now I’m wet.”

  And yeah, he was drenched. His jacket was soaked, his legs, his hair . . . All of him.

  “Detective uniforms really aren’t made for the outdoors,” Jake said. He turned on the engine and cranked the heater up, putting all vents on August. “You look like you were searching for clues at the bottom of the dam.”

  August looked down at Jacob’s jacket. The water beaded off it. His pants weren’t completely safe, but at least his boots offered better protection than August’s loafers. “Detective uniforms?”

  “Yeah, your suit.” Jake clicked his seatbelt in and grinned. “Designed by pen-pushers for pen-pushers.”

  August shot him a glare, but he fought a smile in the end. “Just shut up and drive.”

  Jake considered singing that line of the song but figured he’d pushed his luck far enough already. He turned the windscreen wipers onto high, still couldn’t see too well because of the torrential downpour outside, and began the slow drive back. The road was slippery, and even though the Patrol had great traction, it still slid a little.

  “I can see now why you got the bigger four-wheel drive,” August said.

  “Yeah, there’s a few dirt roads out of town. The rain makes a mess of them. I’ve had to tow a few cars out before. Plus a
lot of farms up here have unsealed driveways. Having a sedan up here makes no sense to me.”

  As they drove further down, they saw all the police vehicles were gone. “They didn’t waste time leaving,” August said.

  Jake thought that was probably just as well. Last thing they needed was someone getting injured or slipping down a muddy embankment. “Do you think we’ll find any more bodies?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Same.”

  August was quiet again, but his brow furrowed, which told Jacob he was thinking. “You mentioned before searching the dam for evidence . . .”

  “I said you looked like you did already. Not that we should.” Now it was Jacob who frowned. “Do you think we should?”

  August sighed. “I don’t know what we’d be looking for. There’s no missing weapon. Every razor or blade used in the murder is found with the body. And if there was something thrown in the dam when Perry Ahern was murdered, it’d be too far contaminated to get any evidence from it.”

  “Probably. And no way to prove it was from the killer. Unless it’s the property of the victim.”

  “Hmm,” August frowned. “We have too much else to worry about first. I want to go back through my cases and check out more missing persons. We need to figure out what the correlation between the Sydney bodies and these two bodies is.”

  A police car was waiting at the gate, and Jacob drove through and stopped. Constable McNeill got out of his car and ran over to them, so Jacob put his window down. He had a yellow poncho over his uniform, the hood over his head, but the rain was so heavy he was no doubt drenched anyway. “You guys done?” he asked, rain running down his face.

  “Yeah. You can lock it up and go get dry,” Jake said.

  “Well, I gotta lock it up, but I also gotta stay till dark apparently. Well, five o’clock. Same thing. Orders are orders.”

  “Whose orders?” Jacob asked. “There’ll be no one coming back today.”

  “Brass. Doesn’t want any of the locals getting nosey. You know what he’s like. Loves his rules.”

  Christ. “Got a book to read?”

  McNeill grinned. “Candy Crush, so it’s not all bad.”

  “Have you got food?” Jake asked him.

  “Nah,” McNeill said.

  “Here,” Jake replied, taking the brown paper bag of bread rolls and giving them to McNeill. “Eat something.”

  “Oh, cheers!” McNeill took them and shoved them under his poncho. “That’s some of the best bread I’ve ever had.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell my dad. Go and get out of the rain,” Jake said. “If you need anything, gimme a call at the station.”

  “Shall do,” he said, still grinning. He gave a nod, then ran back to his car, threw the bag of bread in, and was pulling the gate shut when Jacob pulled out onto the road back into Tallowwood.

  “I take it he meant Commander Kenny when he said brass,” August said.

  Jacob gave a nod. “I assume so, yeah. We do our own thing, but when shit really hits the fan, we technically fall under Coffs Harbour.”

  “Do you think anyone from Tallowwood would come up here to check out what’s been going on?”

  Jake sighed. “I dunno. Maybe. I just wonder why the order came from Kenny and not Hirsch. Unless Hirsch pissed Kenny off too much when he raised his voice at him that he’s now calling the shots on this. And you heard what McNeill said, Kenny loves his rules.”

  “You’re the lead on this,” August said. “You were first on-site, you found the second body, you’re running this investigation.”

  “Kenny’s the local commander. Tallowwood falls under Coffs Harbour command. He outranks us all.”

  “There’s still procedure to follow,” August noted. “And if he loves his rules so much, why isn’t he following them?”

  Jake drove for a bit, thinking about what August said. He had to concentrate on driving too, but the last thing he wanted at this point of the investigation was to get caught up in a pissing contest between his superior officers. He was a cop, he understood rank, and he appreciated what those stars on a uniform represented. He would always respect a ranking officer. But he wouldn’t jeopardise a case for it. He wouldn’t let ego ruin any chance of justice for the victims.

  He’d had every intention of driving straight to the station as they got into town, but one look at August told him otherwise. The man was shivering, even with the heater vents on him. “Okay,” Jake said as he indicated and turned onto his street. “You need a hot shower and a change of clothes.”

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled.

  Jake pulled into his drive, shut the engine off, looked at August, and raised one eyebrow. “Don’t argue with me.”

  August stared at him. “Speaking of rank . . .”

  “Speaking of pneumonia . . .”

  August sighed. “Is there any point in arguing?”

  “Absolutely none whatsoever.” Jake grinned victoriously. “You’re a fast learner, Detective Shaw. Now if you could please take the maps out of the glovebox. I’ll grab your bag.”

  He got out of the Patrol, took August’s carry-on bag from the back seat and, avoiding the rain the best he could, dashed up onto the porch. By the time he unlocked his door and got inside, August was behind him, maps in hand.

  “Old-fashioned, actual paper maps,” August said smugly. “You know in the big smoke, we have this thing called the internet and it has this thing called maps.”

  Jake chuckled. “That’s all well and good if you’re a desk cop, but up there near the dam where we just were, there’s limited phone service, which means no internet, no Google Maps. So, nice try. Desk cop.”

  August grumbled, then it became a chuckle. “Shut up.”

  Jake laughed. He took the maps and handed August his bag. “Go and have a shower. You’re making my floor wet.”

  August almost made it to the hall before he stopped. “I um . . . I wasn’t exactly expecting to stay a third day. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to take a dip in a storm.”

  Jake’s grin widened. He picked up a remote and switched the heater on before August froze to death. “You’re shaking. Go and get into a warm shower. I’ll bring something in for you, and we can sort out your clothes.” August stared at him, so Jacob shooed him. “Go! You’re going to catch your freaking death.”

  August disappeared down the hall and Jacob laughed to himself. He couldn’t believe he’d actually been nervous about meeting August. Two days ago, he’d been expecting some hard-arse, non-human city detective. But August was . . . just a normal guy. Well, not just normal. He was rather remarkable. But just a guy. Actually, Jacob was rather surprised by how easy it was to be around him. Normally most guys didn’t know how to take Jacob’s sense of humour, but August just seemed to slot right in.

  Was it really only two days ago?

  The sound of the old hot water pipes singing spurred Jacob into action. He found a pair of jeans that looked like they’d fit August and a shirt and sweater and some socks. He considered underwear and stopped.

  Would that be weird?

  Probably.

  But then he remembered a pack he’d thrown up the back of his wardrobe and fossicked on his tiptoes until he found them. With a shrug, he added them to the folded pile and knocked on the bathroom door. The room was steamy and warm, and Jake was a little disappointed he’d gone with opaque glass when he’d remodelled. “I’ll just leave these on the counter,” Jake said, trying not to think about how naked August was on the other side of that glass door. “The underpants were a gift from my mum. Not a gift for you,” he added quickly. “For me, last Christmas, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her I haven’t worn that kind of underwear since I was eight. I mean, it’s not for eight-year-olds, but God, this got awkward fast.”

  “Uh . . . um, thanks?” August replied with a laugh, and Jake quickly snuck out before it could get any more embarrassing.

  He went into his own room, sat on his bed, and began unlacing
his boots. Army boots were great for keeping feet dry, but they were a pain in the arse to get on and off, and he had to take them off to change his pants. By the time he’d changed, he heard August talking to Scarlett.

  “Yes, it’s a travesty,” he said. The cat meowed. “I can help you fill in an official complaint.”

  Jake laughed and went out to the kitchen. August, looking all kinds of good in Jacob’s clothes, was standing at Scarlett’s bowl and she was looking up at him, telling him a long story about how she was the worst-treated cat in the world.

  Jake put his boots on the floor and his belt on the kitchen counter, and August looked him over. Jacob didn’t miss how his gaze darted to his chest, down even further, then darted back to his face. “Um, Scarlett and I can both see the bottom of her bowl. Despite the presence of and build-up of cat biscuits around the inside of the bowl, there is clear evidence of the bottom of the bowl. And she’d like you to know, quite frankly, it’s not good enough.”

  Jake stared. Scarlett meowed and rubbed against August’s leg, and August bent over to pick up the cat, giving Jacob a mighty fine view of his assets, then held the purring traitor to his broad chest and smiled. Jacob knew the returned sass was for the desk-cop, Google-Maps comment. “Her Royal Highness’s biscuits are in the pantry,” Jacob said, nodding towards that particular cupboard. “Perhaps her Royal Advisor could get them for her while her mere peasant finishes getting dressed.”

  August smiled, a carefree smile that Jacob hadn’t seen before. His eyes looked bluer. Maybe it was the blue sweater . . . “Her Royal Advisor could do that,” August said. “And he’s very grateful for the clothes, thank you.”

  “No problem. Those jeans look better on you anyway,” Jake replied, then realised what he’d said. “I mean . . .” August gave him a surprised look and Jake rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

  August blushed but busied himself with pouring the not-needed biscuits into Scarlett’s bowl, and Jake put on his police belt, then pulled his boots on, leaving the laces undone.

  “So, what’s your plan for this afternoon?” August said, back to work, all playful banter gone.