The Final Bullet

by Chris Taylor

  “What the fuck happened, Coleridge? You were meant to wait for the Tamworth boys.”

  “Yeah.” It was all Lachlan could manage.

  His brief answer only served to incite his boss’ anger. Becker’s cheeks went crimson with fury. His breath came fast and his eyes blazed. Lachlan hoped they wouldn’t have another dead body to deal with.

  “What happened?” Becker demanded again through gritted teeth. His tone brooked no argument.

  “The victim raised his gun in the direction of his wife. He’d threatened to shoot her. Martin shot first.”

  Becker’s gaze lifted to where Martin stood, his shoulders still shaking with sobs. “For fuck’s sake!” Becker growled in disgust and turned away. Without another word, he stalked back the way he’d come.

  Lachlan sighed heavily. He looked around at the other officers who now filled the store, but none of their eyes met his. Paramedics arrived with a stretcher and halted beside Barry’s body. The paramedics tossed Lachlan curious stares, but refrained from asking questions. It wouldn’t take long for them to find their tongues.

  By nightfall, the whole town would be talking about it. His and Martin’s actions would be examined and discussed and analyzed from every angle. Truth would give way to a better story. By the time the townsfolk of Moree had finished, what they believed happened in their supermarket would barely resemble the truth. Lachlan accepted that for what it was and braced himself for the impact.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dear Diary,

  The pain just keeps going round and round, ever tighter around my heart. I’m drowning, gasping for air; desperate to stay alive. And nobody notices. Nobody sees my pain.

  I thought I was getting better; would have sworn that it was true. But I’m back where I started, surrounded by blackness, hurtling full speed into the abyss…

  * * *

  Ava took a sip of coffee and flipped open the Moree Champion. She liked to immerse herself in the happenings of the community where she worked and Moree was no different. The newspaper usually held various stories that affected the surrounding farming community and often included the dire predictions for poor crop yields if the current dry weather held.

  The café on Balo Street where she’d taken to eating breakfast was housed in an original art deco building and much to her relief, the owner knew how to serve decent coffee. She’d have to remember to tell Mrs Christie when she returned to the city.

  The interior of the shop had recently undergone a major renovation and now resembled something like one of the cafés she might frequent in the eastern suburbs of Sydney. The stainless steel seating complemented the dark wood tables, and the glossy marble floor tiles reflected the modern lighting. Rural landscapes by local artists lined the walls. The clatter of plates and cutlery from the direction of the kitchen and the murmur of other patrons had become a familiar, soothing sound.

  Focusing on the newspaper, Ava read the headline on the front page and gasped. The day before, there had been a shooting at the local supermarket. It was the same store she frequented, only a hundred yards away from where she sat, but on the opposite side of the street. The article was short on detail, but she was concerned to discover Lachlan Coleridge and Martin Griffin had been involved in a fatal shooting at the store.

  She hadn’t seen Lachlan since his appointment on Friday of the week before. They’d agreed to keep their relationship platonic, at least while he was her patient. In three weeks’ time when Phoebe returned and took over her practice once again, well… Who knew what might happen? But for now, they were strictly friends.

  She frowned at the thought of Lachlan and Martin being at the scene of another fatality. Lachlan had been making good progress and Ava had been pleased with his improvement. He’d been opening up more and more and had even spoken to her about his wife. As much as hearing about his family made her uncomfortable, that aspect was an integral part of him and dealing with that was another important part of his healing.

  He’d told her one of his main goals of getting better was to gain access to his kids. Ava couldn’t help but wonder if a reunion with his estranged wife might also be on the table. She wanted to protest the unwelcome thought, but the truth was, she had no hold on him.

  She’d met him at a low point in his life and had provided a welcome distraction and relief. By his own admission, the wedding had come at a time when he’d recently split up with his wife. The fact that their brief moment of passion in the cloakroom had impacted upon Ava’s heart was no one’s fault but her own. She’d not long turned thirty-six. She knew sex didn’t equate to love, no matter how much she wanted it to.

  And it wasn’t like she was in love with him. That was utter nonsense. She barely knew him. But the more he opened up to her, the more she got to see the real Lachlan Coleridge and the more she wanted to know about him. Memories of just how he could make her body sing didn’t help her addiction. If it weren’t for the fact he was her patient, she might just throw caution to the wind and see where it led…

  Ava shook her head, annoyed with the direction of her thoughts. He wasn’t available. Separation wasn’t the same as divorce and there was always the possibility he’d reconcile with his wife. No, the sensible thing to do was to put all thoughts of romance with Lachlan Coleridge out of her mind.

  Her phone tinkled, indicating an incoming call. Taking another sip of her coffee, she glanced at the screen and smiled. It was her baby sister.

  “Sammie! How are you? How was the honeymoon? How’s married life treating you?”

  “It’s amazing, Ava. You and Jessie should try it sometime. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Images of green eyes that had seen too much suddenly flooded Ava’s mind and it was all she could do to concentrate on what her sister was saying.

  “The sightseeing was great, but it’s good to be back home. How’s life in the thriving metropolis of Moree?” Samantha continued.

  “It’s going well. Phoebe has a busy practice. I’m at work for a good solid eight or nine hours a day, sometimes longer. There are so few professional services out in the bush. We city dwellers don’t know how good we have it.”

  “And how’s Lachlan? Rohan told me the two of you had hooked up.”

  Ava blushed, despite the fact no one knew of her illicit encounter with Lachlan at the wedding. Ava must have been referring to the barbeque they’d both attended a little over a week earlier at the Griffins.

  “He’s…fine. We’ve chatted here and there. He’s…nice.”

  “Nice! He’s more than that! He’s hot, like all of Rohan’s brothers. Too bad this one’s married. Hasn’t he got the cutest little kids?”

  Ava’s blush got hotter. She squirmed on her seat. “Um… I guess. I haven’t met his wife or children. I think they’re visiting with her mom.”

  “Oh, well, anyway, I just hope Rohan and I breed kids that cute. On that note… I have some news.”

  “Oooh!” Ava squealed. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant!”

  “Four weeks along. We’re not past the danger period, yet, so we’re only telling family.”

  “Does Lachlan know?”

  “I guess so. Rohan said he’d call him.”

  “Congratulations, Sammie. I’m thrilled to bits. Mom must be beside herself. It’s so long since she held a grandbaby.”

  “Yes, Mom’s over the moon. Her only complaint is that she still has so long to wait.”

  Ava chuckled, and was filled with a surge of yearning. Her little sister was married and about to have a baby. It was the way things were meant to be. Ava had dreamed of her prince charming since she was a young girl, like all young girls did. She longed to have someone to share her life with, to love her, to hold her, to father her kids…

  Still, there was no point moping about it. If it didn’t happen, it didn’t happen. She could still feel happy for her sister. And she did.

  After wishing Sam all the best with her pregnancy, Ava promised to speak again soon
and then ended the call. She thought about Lachlan and his children and vowed to do everything she could to bring him back to a place of wellness where his family could once again enjoy his company. It was the right thing to do. It was the way it had to be.

  Her phone beeped, indicating a new text message. She picked it up and checked the screen. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Lachlan.

  I really need to c u. R u free?

  He wasn’t scheduled for another appointment until later in the week, but there was something desperate about his brief text. Her first patient wasn’t until ten o’clock. It was only a little after eight. She’d intended on enjoying a lazy breakfast and catching up on the local news, but Lachlan needed her and that was reason enough to bring her relaxing morning to an end.

  Give me 20 minutes. Can u get here by then?

  No problem. C u soon.

  Ava tamped down on the surge of excitement and anticipation that rushed through her at the thought of seeing him again. He was still married. He was still battling to get himself well. He was still her patient. It was her job to get him there. End of story.

  * * *

  “What are you up to?”

  Lachlan glanced up from his desk and spied Martin heading toward him. “I was just texting Ava Wolfe,” he replied.

  Until now, he’d kept the fact he was seeing Ava professionally from everyone, including his partner, but after their earlier discussion with Becker and seeing the fear lying just below the surface of Martin’s eyes, Lachlan decided his friend would be better served knowing help was available.

  “I made an appointment to talk to her,” Lachlan added.

  Surprise filled Martin’s face. He walked closer and lowered his voice. “You mean, you’ve been getting therapy?”

  Lachlan held his colleague’s gaze and hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. The reasons he’d wanted to keep his visits to Ava quiet were still valid. “Yes.”

  Martin’s eyes flared wide. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. And I’m glad I found the guts to give it a go. I think it’s helping.”

  “With what?”

  Lachlan shook his head, irritated by Martin’s show of ignorance. “With dealing with the shit we face every day. And now we have IA on our ass. I need to get on top of things. Kristy won’t let me see the kids until I get my shit together. Apart from anything else, I owe it to my family to get well.”

  He’d said the words before, to Ava, but she was his therapist. Hearing them now, he realized how much he meant them and how committed he was to returning to a healthier emotional state.

  “You ought to give it a go,” he added and wasn’t surprised when Martin vigorously shook his head.

  “No way! It might make you feel better and I’m happy for you, mate, I really am. But that kind of shit’s not for me. I’ll have a few beers and put yesterday’s troubles behind me. It’s how I always deal with it. Besides, I’ve put in for that promotion. They’re supposed to make a decision about it in a week. I can’t take the risk that they’ll discover I’m in therapy.

  “Patrick just started at a private school. In a few years, it will be Montana’s turn. Then I’ll be paying for two of them. Those school fees cost a packet. I need that promotion. Besides…” He shook his head slowly back and forth. “Have you forgotten about Gerry? The only reason he missed out on that job was because he’d been seeing some shrink in Tamworth.”

  Lachlan swallowed a sigh, unable to argue against Martin’s reasoning. “What about the IA investigation Becker mentioned this morning? They’ll be here to interview us tomorrow. Have you given any thought to how you want to proceed?”

  Martin’s face flushed with anger. “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is! Fucking IA! You were there! We did nothing wrong!” His eyes took on a frantic light. “You’re gonna tell them that, right?”

  Lachlan stared at him, disquiet knotting his gut. “Yeah, of course.”

  Pushing away from his desk, Lachlan stood and collected his wallet and keys. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you later.”

  He left Martin staring morosely at the empty coffee cup that sat on Lachlan’s desk.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dear Diary,

  Despite my best efforts, the darkness descends upon me once more and I dream about my children. My little boy and girl. They’re caught in the house and it’s on fire and there’s nothing I can do. Flames lick their hair. My heart snags on their screams. They cry for help in fear and terror, in agony, begging me to help them, save them.

  “Please, Daddy! Please!”

  My feet are filled with lead. I cannot take a step. They’re going to die, be burned alive and there’s nothing I can do…

  * * *

  Lachlan came awake with a start. The sheets were twisted around his body. His pillow was damp with sweat. He’d been having a dream. More like a nightmare. It was about his kids. They were calling for him in the darkness and he couldn’t find them.

  The constant ache of sadness that had resided in his gut ever since Kristy walked out renewed itself with a vengeance. The pain of separation from his children hadn’t lessened. His sessions with Ava were helping, but he still had a long way to go.

  The IA investigators were interviewing him and Martin that morning. His gut filled with dread at the thought. Though his conscience was clear and he was confident they’d find he did nothing wrong, the process would still be a test of endurance, made even more difficult by the necessity of having to speak about his friend’s role in what had gone down.

  Lachlan sighed heavily. If only Martin hadn’t pulled the trigger… If only he’d waited just that little bit longer. Lachlan didn’t believe Barry intended to kill his wife. He’d been in policing long enough to recognize bluff and bluster. If he’d been given just a few more minutes with the guy, he was sure he could have gotten Barry to hand over the weapon.

  But they hadn’t been given those few extra moments and now Barry was dead, Elsie was widowed and Lachlan and Martin were caught in the middle of an IA investigation. Not the best way to start the day and definitely not something any officer wanted in their personnel file. Still, there was nothing to be done about it now.

  He’d attended a therapy session with Ava the day before and had talked about the shooting. She’d already read scant details of it in the paper. She’d been saddened by the outcome of the negotiations with the victim and had told him she understood how difficult it was for both of them and in particular, for Martin, who’d been the one to fire the fatal shot.

  It was comforting to have her support. It had been a long time since he’d felt like he had someone in his corner, someone who understood. She had a way of cutting through the bullshit and prodding the darkness that filled his soul.

  Inch by inch, hour by hour, she seemed to be turning the blackness into gray. He felt lighter than he had for a long time. It was only in the dead of night, during dreams which were out of his control, that he fell backwards into the abyss and woke exhausted and out of breath.

  He wondered if she had any idea what power she held in her hands. He’d been attracted to her from the first instant he’d set eyes on her, as she made her way down the aisle. The taste of her full lips, the softness of her curves, had driven him wild with need. He’d been overwhelmed by the loneliness that had been a constant companion since Kristy left and had lost all thought of anything other than losing himself in the arms of the beautiful stranger.

  He should have known it wouldn’t solve anything. His moment of uninhibited passion with Ava had been exhilarating, but afterward, reality had crashed back into him and the darkness had once again triumphed.

  But that was then, more than a month ago. He was in a different place, a better place now, and he truly had Ava to thank for that. Now, when he thought of Kristy, his heart didn’t twist in anger and hurt. He understood her need to get away from him and protect their children from his pain. Though he ached every day to see his kids, it made him want to strive harder to reach a better
mind space. A place where he could be a good father, a good man, a good friend. Including a better friend to Martin.

  Knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, Lachlan threw back the covers and strode, naked, to the shower. Turning the water on as far as the lever would go, he stood under the hot spray and let it beat down on his head. Feeling invigorated, he dressed in a clean shirt, suit and tie and spent a few minutes polishing his black boots. He’d face the IA investigators with his head held high. After all, he had nothing to hide. And neither did Martin.

  * * *

  Lachlan stared at the IA officer who’d identified himself as Senior Sergeant Walter Miles and tried to hold on to his temper. The man who sat across from him wore round, black-rimmed wire glasses and a satisfied smirk. It was almost as if he’d already made up his mind about what happened and was letting Lachlan know that nothing he said would change his mind.

  “So, Detective Coleridge, despite the fact a team of experienced negotiators were only a few hours away, you and your maverick buddy decided to go in and interfere with an extremely delicate situation, right?”

  Lachlan gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain calm. As much as he wanted to drive his fist into the slimy-faced bastard, it wouldn’t be the wisest move. The man held Lachlan’s career in the palm of his hand, and Lachlan needed to remember that.

  And not only Lachlan’s career. Martin’s career was also at stake. His colleague had yet to put in an appearance at the station. Lachlan had seen his partner’s pickup parked outside the local watering hole on his way home the night before. He could only hope Martin hadn’t used booze to ease his current problems. He needed a clear head to face the IA bastards. Lachlan crossed his fingers that his friend and partner arrived in the squad room in good shape.

  “The victim was holding three civilians at gunpoint,” Lachlan finally answered through his tightly clenched jaw. “There were several other people in the store. Three hours is a long time to wait when lives hang in the balance.”