Sapphire Falls

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Sapphire Falls Page 5

by Fleur McDonald


  ‘And,’ Glover drew out the word. ‘You were instructed to wait in the case of Amelia Bennett the previous year, and you didn’t then, either.’

  He raised his eyebrows, as if daring Dave to argue with him.

  But there was no argument to be had. Yes, he’d gone rushing in, but he’d saved both girls. Surely that was a good thing. Not something to be hauled in and questioned over.

  ‘Sure didn’t,’ he finally answered, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t care. But he did. In a massive way.

  ‘So you admit you disobeyed orders?’ Glover made a note on his pad before tapping the pen on the paper and staring disapprovingly at the words he’d written.

  ‘And what the hell do you want me to do about it now?’ Dave asked, anger brimming inside him. ‘I can’t change my actions. I had to react the way I saw fit at the time. It was me on the ground there, not you lot. The outcomes were good for both the victim and the police department. We had arrests. Brought the crime-rate stats down. That’s what you blokes need. What more do you want?’ Agitated, Dave ran his fingers through his greying hair and wondered if Kim was still waiting outside. Embarrassment welled up inside him. He hadn’t wanted her to know about this, but he’d had no choice.

  He also knew she would stand beside him, whatever the outcome. The humiliation came from being a top-shelf cop who never thought he, or his actions, would be questioned. He considered briefly why it had turned out this way. It wouldn’t have happened ten years ago. Policing was changing and he wasn’t sure he was up to it.

  ‘This will all be documented on your file.’

  Dave fought the urge to slam his hand down on the table again and swear.

  ‘Of course it will be,’ he said after a moment. ‘So can I go?’

  ‘You won’t be able to go back to work until the investigation is complete. It will take a few days. Expect to hear from me next week.’ Glover snapped his notepad shut and turned off the recording machine, before looking at Dave closely. ‘You’ve been very careless, Detective Burrows,’ he said. ‘Very careless indeed.’ He sighed. ‘Trouble is, the police department needs people like you. If it was up to me, you’d be badgeless for the duration. In reality, we’re short-staffed in the rural areas and you know how to run and investigate those areas if needed.

  ‘I’m not happy; however, I’ll be recommending that you are fit for duty.’ He sighed again, this time deeply. ‘But let me tell you, if I have to interview you again for reckless behaviour, I won’t be so lenient. In fact, I’ll throw the book at you and make sure you don’t work for years.’ He leaned over the desk and looked Dave in the eyes. ‘And that will kill a cop like you. Pull your head in, Burrows. You’re not a one-man band. Even if you do live in the sticks without backup. You’ve been told that before.’ He stared at Dave, who stared back.

  He wished he could say, ‘Bugger off,’ but deep inside he knew Glover, the ‘Toe-cutter’, was right. And that was what hurt the most.

  ‘This way,’ Toe-cutter indicated which way to leave the interview room.

  Bloody internal investigations. ‘Toe-cutter’ wasn’t the nicest name for these investigators—actually, ‘Feather Feet’ was what they called the unit in WA, where Dave was from originally. It came from the Aboriginal Lawmen, who used to wear feathers on their feet so they could sneak up on an unsuspecting target. Well, that was a pretty appropriate name for him. Dave hadn’t seen him coming but it certainly wasn’t what he would have called Glover right at that moment.

  As Dave walked out into the police station foyer, he saw Kim sitting there, reading a magazine. When she looked up, he could instantly tell there was something wrong.

  Raising his eyebrows, he looked at her quizzically. He could see fear and panic in her eyes and his stomach constricted. What could possibly have happened while he was being interviewed?

  His need to get out of the police station was overwhelming. He turned back to Glover and waited until the forms were completed before snatching them and holding out his hand for his badge.

  ‘Remember what I said, Burrows. This is the last time.’

  Dave nodded curtly and turned to Kim, ushering her out, his hand on her back.

  He waited until they had passed the glass sliding doors before asking her what was wrong.

  Kim put a hand on his arm. ‘Let’s get a coffee,’ she said, walking in front of him towards a cafe across the road.

  Dave felt a sense of foreboding he’d never had before. Something was off kilter.

  He pulled out a chair for her and went to the counter to order drinks. When he came back, he reached for her hand. ‘What’s up, sweetie?’ he asked, his voice as gentle as he could manage.

  Kim swallowed and ran her thumb along his. Dave didn’t like the way she was avoiding making eye contact.

  ‘So the breast-check van has been in Port Augusta. I went and had my normal mammogram a couple of weeks ago.’

  Dave’s stomach dropped and fear rippled through his whole body. He knew exactly where this was heading. He wanted her to stop talking, because saying it out loud would make it true. ‘No,’ he said softly, pleading with her. ‘Don’t say it, Kim.’

  She raised her face to look at him. ‘Chelle has just called and asked me to go in and see her when we get home.’ Chelle was their local doctor in Barker and also Kim’s niece, Milly’s, school friend.

  They sat in silence as the waitress brought their coffee and muffins. Neither of them remembered to thank her.

  Dave couldn’t breathe. It had taken him all his life to find her and now, two short years in, he might lose her. He felt as if he were on a speeding train he couldn’t get off.

  ‘What does that mean?’ he asked. ‘Wanting you to go in. She didn’t give you any indication of why?’

  Kim shook her head slowly. ‘She just said she wanted to discuss my results with me. We’ll have to wait and see what she has to say. I’ll go and see her when we get back. She said she’d make time for me whenever I got there.’

  Dave gripped her hand with more force. ‘That’s bullshit,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘How can she leave you hanging like that?’

  ‘I guess it’s not something she wants to talk about on the phone.’ Kim shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Don’t get angry with me. I haven’t caused this.’

  That sobered him. ‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ he apologised. ‘Sorry.’ He didn’t know what else to say, but he bumbled along anyway. ‘Well, you never know, it might be nothing. Or something different to what you’re thinking. A cyst or something. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I promise.’

  When Kim responded, her tone was tight with anxiety. ‘Don’t say things like that, Dave, because you can’t promise me anything at the moment. I know you want to, but we’ve got no idea what we’re facing here.’

  The coffees sat untouched, cooling as they both stared down at them. As if on automatic pilot, Dave poured sugar into his cup and took a sip. As the liquid hit his stomach, he felt ill. His eyes searched every aspect of her face—the face he knew so well. He knew her moods just by watching her eyes; he knew what she was about to say by the way her mouth tilted as she spoke. Today her face told of terror. It seemed as if she’d aged ten years in the space of ten minutes.

  He didn’t know how to comfort her, so he moved his chair around to sit alongside her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. She let her head rest against his chest and he felt the warmth of her tears on his shirt.

  The drive home was silent; both were lost in their thoughts. Dave didn’t know what the future held for him, but he knew one thing for sure: he wanted, no, needed Kim in that future.

  After hearing this news, the run-in at headquarters meant nothing to Dave. He’d already decided he had done the right thing in both situations, and stuff the police department if they didn’t like it. He’d do it again. He’d saved both those girls and brought a band of criminals to face the courts. Single-handedly. To him, that spoke volumes.

  Dave wasn’t even sure i
f he wanted to keep policing if Kim had breast cancer. He knew he’d want to spend every moment he could with her. Be there for everything and anything she needed. He glanced over at her as they pulled up at the surgery.

  Her usually beautiful face was tight and she wouldn’t look at him. Dave thought she could have been walking to the gallows.

  ‘Stop.’ He put a hand on her arm. ‘I’m coming, too.’

  She twisted away from him. ‘No, I need to do this by myself.’

  ‘But, Kimmy …’

  ‘Dave! For God’s sake, just let me do this, will you? I’m sorry!’ She grabbed her handbag and walked quickly away from the car. There was nothing to do except let her go.

  Putting his hands over his mouth, he expelled air into them, then rubbed his tired face. ‘Shit.’

  His phone rang, making him jump, and he snatched it up and looked at the screen.

  ‘Shit,’ he repeated when he saw his supervisor’s name. ‘Steve.’

  ‘Dave,’ Steve answered in the same no-nonsense tone. ‘Home yet?’

  ‘Yes. Look, can I call—’

  ‘We’ve got a problem.’ Steve spoke over the top of Dave; if he’d heard the request to call him back, he ignored it.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’ve been looking at the file on Eddie McDougall. The vic that was killed in the shooting accident up your way. There’re some things that don’t add up.’

  Dave racked his brains. ‘I was on holidays when that case came through,’ he told him. ‘I can’t help you with that. You’ll need to talk to Jack or Andy.’ He was referring to the two other officers who worked with him in the Barker Police Station.

  ‘I want you to review the case. I think some mistakes have been made.’

  ‘I don’t think I can, Steve.’ Dave ran his hand over his hair, trying to decide whether to tell him what was going on with Kim. ‘I’ve got some, ah, personal problems at the moment.’

  ‘Don’t be difficult because you’re pissed off, Dave.’ Steve sounded exasperated. ‘I know your pride’s hurt because of the roasting you’ve been given, but …’

  ‘It’s not that,’ he interrupted. ‘It’s Kim. She might have breast cancer.’

  The silence stretched out between them.

  ‘I see,’ Steve said finally. ‘Nothing to do with anything else then?’

  ‘Well, yeah. I’m angry and annoyed and probably a bit embarrassed. But we’ve only found out about Kim today. I need some time, Steve. Anyway, I’ve been told I can’t work until sometime next week when the Feather Feet get back in contact with me.’

  ‘Don’t worry about them. I’ll clear it. I need you on this case.’

  ‘Can you give me until next week? Let me just find out what the hell is going on with Kim and what we need to do. Eddie McDougall has been dead for four months; it’s not going to be urgent.’

  ‘I’ll send you the file. Have a look at it when you’ve got time.’ He paused. ‘And, Dave? I hope everything will be okay. You always expect the worst, but it doesn’t have to be.’ He cleared his throat. ‘My wife was diagnosed eight years ago—they caught it early and she’s okay now. It’s her fifth year clear. It’s a hell of a time, Dave, but you’ll get through it. That I can tell you from experience.’

  Dave’s throat constricted and he wasn’t able to say anything.

  ‘Anyway, catch you later.’ Steve hung up.

  Chapter 5

  Leigh Bounter walked down the main street of Booleroo. He nodded at a couple of people, then saw Mark Simmons, Ian Tonkin and Rob Cameron crossing the road, deep in conversation. He was about to call out to them—they were all interesting men to talk to—but Ray Newell crossed his line of sight before he had the opportunity.

  ‘G’day, Ray.’ Leigh extended his hand and forced a smile to his face.

  ‘Leigh, how’re you going?’ Ray sounded just as strained as Leigh felt speaking to him.

  ‘Good, mate, good. Great win yesterday. Torrica should be very worried about us here at Booleroo, leading into the finals.’

  Ray nodded. ‘Exceptionally worried.’ He rattled off a few names of players who had kicked goals or made good tackles. ‘But what about that young Myles Martin? Isn’t he something special, the way he weaves and dives? Don’t think I’ve seen a youngster with such ability in quite some time.’ The passion in his voice shone through.

  Leigh nodded enthusiastically. If the two of them talked only about footy, they could talk for hours, but if they strayed from the subject or went down memory lane, they had to end the conversation before the punches started. Didn’t matter who started the fight, they would both retaliate in a fiery way.

  ‘Totally agree with you. In fact,’ Leigh drew out the word, thinking, ‘are we playing against Laura next week?’

  ‘Sure are.’

  ‘I think I’ll keep him in mind for the Leigh Bunter Medal.’

  Neither spoke for a moment, Leigh remembering the day his future had been snatched away from him.

  ‘Good idea,’ Ray agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. ‘Well, I’d better be off. Thanks for coming and watching the boys yesterday. Catch you round.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Leigh scratched at his beard as he watched Ray wander off. He wished he could forgive this man, but he just hadn’t been able to. Seventeen years ago, while on the footy field, they’d both been going for the ball, but at the last minute, Ray, realising he couldn’t make it in time, had changed direction and taken Leigh’s legs out from underneath him. Leigh’s head had snapped back as he’d landed awkwardly on the ground, resulting in a fractured C2 vertebrae.

  A four-month recovery period, with heaps of physio past that date, had annihilated any hope of being able to play again, even at a local level.

  For years, he’d been so angry with Ray he would make a detour if he saw him in the street. These days, so many years on, he managed to hold a conversation with him. Leigh couldn’t talk about Ray’s success in life—the trucking business he’d built up from scratch, his pretty wife and even more beautiful three-year-old daughter. It made Leigh think of all the things he could have had, but didn’t.

  Sure, he was successful in his own right—he had a large farming enterprise, handed down through generations, no debt and a large stack of money he’d inherited when his parents died. The combination of a few good seasons and cleverly invested money meant he was exceptionally well off. He was the mayor of Booleroo Centre. But he’d never planned on that. Never even considered it. Not wanted it.

  No, what Leigh had wanted was nothing less than an AFL career. A drop-dead stunning wife on his arm as he paraded down the carpet for the Brownlow Medal. Mateship and a bond that came from playing in a team. Fame and success. To be in the spotlight. Respected.

  In reality, Leigh went home to an empty house every night, and his body hurt. He didn’t have a family of his own, and both his parents were dead. His two sisters were scattered across Australia, busy with their own lives and families. He rarely spoke to either. He was alone at thirty-four and, although the Booleroo Council area was his to run as he saw fit, there were no team players within the council. Everyone was out for what they could get. He saw it as his duty to oversee that.

  When it was clear his AFL dream could never be realised, Leigh set about trying to make a difference. His farming operation increased, and he employed more workmen. He worked hard for the town of Booleroo Centre, becoming mayor at twenty-five—only for a year. He took a break and then ran again when he was thirty. He’d been mayor for four years now and didn’t have any intention of letting his position go. Fame and success had come through different channels. He now knew everything that happened within the council boundaries, and everyone who lived there.

  He’d often contemplated what a difference it would have made had Ray apologised. Ray never would, Leigh knew—to him injury was part of the risk you took when you played. But to be involved in snatching away his dream … Well, he thought he would h
ave at least fronted the bloke he’d injured. But not Ray.

  Leigh absent-mindedly rubbed the back of his neck. He could still feel the lump there. Really, he should just be grateful he was alive. An inch or two either way and he would have been looking at the inside of a coffin, not the warm winter sun of today.

  He tried to shake off the melancholy by thinking about Fiona. He was on his way to Charona with a few others for Carly’s birthday. From what Fiona had said, it sounded like Carly had a cackle of friends heading out there. Only reason he wanted to go along was to check on Fiona and show his face to the old girls. The re-election was coming up in a few months. Be good for him to remind them he was still around.

  Although why Carly had chosen to have the lunch at Charona, when she would have been much more comfortable back at her house in Laura, interested him. Leigh had wondered if it was more about making sure Fiona attended. She’d been avoiding a lot of the social activities she used to enjoy.

  Leigh worried for Fiona. He was sure the upkeep of the farm was too much. Life would be a lot easier for her with three million in the bank and no debt or stress about seasons. How she would manage when the little one was born was beyond him. Still, it was her call.

  He worried for Geoff as well—he seemed unreachable. Staying busy on his farm, so he didn’t have to think. Fiona had told him she’d spoken to him recently, and although he was still traumatised, he was okay. But even with that reassuring bit of information, he couldn’t stop being concerned. It was his job to look after people.

  He felt his stomach twist as his thoughts moved on to Charlie. How he missed him. That was one feeling he couldn’t have anticipated. Missing Charlie.

  Charlie had been one of the few blokes who had come and seen him while he was in hospital with a broken neck. That stuck in his throat a bit, too. He would have expected the whole town to have been behind him, help look out for him. They should have. After all, his family was important, so he should have been, too. But no, it was really only Charlie and Geoff who had made the effort.

 

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