by L.H. Cosway
“Did he just jump the wall?”
“Yep.”
“Fucker.”
“My sentiments exactly. Come on, I think I know where we can find him.”
After my first two encounters with Lee, I’d done my homework. I knew he lived on a council estate in Hackney. I knew that he was twenty-five years old, and owned a garage with questionable operations just a couple minutes away from my nick called Cross Bros. And I knew that, just like his younger brother, Trevor, he hadn’t done any time. But like I said, it was going to happen eventually.
Admittedly, I’d gone a little overboard looking into him, and I couldn’t say why I was so interested. I guessed I just wanted to know what I was up against, since every time I ran into him, he seemed determined to win me over.
Tony and I returned to the patrol car, and I hopped in the driver’s seat, my destination already in mind. My hands felt prickly and my heart thrummed at the idea of going to Lee’s house on police business, but I’d caught his brother in the middle of committing a criminal act, and no way was I letting him off the hook.
“That’s four I’ve counted so far,” said Tony, resuming our often-played game of counting the trainers hanging from power lines. It was a sign to show that drugs were being sold in the area. Sadly, Tony and I always counted more trainers than we had time to deal with. Plus, it wasn’t like we could use a pair of dangling sports shoes as a reason to go searching somebody’s house. That’s why the trainers worked so well. Everybody knew what they meant, when technically they didn’t mean anything.
When we reached Lee’s street, which consisted of two long rows of houses, I noticed that some were in okay condition, while others were either boarded up or falling apart. It was the kind of place you didn’t want to get stuck walking through at night, or during the day, for that matter. Lee’s house, number 52, was probably the best kept. It had triple glazing, and parked outside was a souped-up black Ford Focus RS with tinted windows in the back.
“How did you know to come here?” Tony asked, derisively eyeing the car in the same way I was. It was just too fucking typical.
“I recognised the guy. This is where he lives,” I answered, gripping the steering wheel as I glanced out. We were exiting the car and making our way to the house when Tony said, “Dealt with him before, did you?”
I shrugged right before I lifted the knocker and banged three times on the door.
“Something like that.”
The curtains twitched on the window of a house two doors down, and I saw a little old lady peek her head out. She seemed to startle when she caught me looking and quickly let the curtain fall back into place. I could hear the TV playing and voices talking inside Lee’s. Then somebody walked down the hallway and opened the door. It was a small woman, probably in her early twenties, with a pixie face and short brown hair. I wondered if she was Lee’s girlfriend. She was chewing gum as she cocked her head and gave me a blank stare.
“Yeah?”
“Good evening, miss. We’re looking for Trevor Cross, want to ask him a few questions about his whereabouts earlier this evening. Is he in by any chance?”
The woman continued giving me her blank stare before rolling her eyes and turning to shout over her shoulder, “Lee! The old bill are at the door asking about Trev.”
“I’m cooking dinner. Tell them he’s not in,” Lee called back, and I got a little fizzle in my stomach at the sound of his voice. It had been two, maybe three months since I’d last seen him. Needless to say, I wasn’t too happy about my reaction. I knew he was telling the truth about dinner when a waft of garlic hit my nose. Whatever he was cooking, it smelled delicious.
She turned back to me, and I levelled her with a hard expression that made her swallow.
“Don’t think they’re gonna leave so easily, cuz.” So she was his cousin?
“Fine, I’ll be there in a minute,” Lee snapped.
She gave me a pointed look that said, Happy now? before turning and strutting back inside the house. I glanced at Tony. He seemed bored. This sort of thing was business as usual for us; however, the fact that it involved Lee Cross meant I was far from bored. I adjusted my radio and ran my hands over the notebook tucked safely inside my shirt pocket before straightening out my tie. I was fidgeting, my agitation drumming itself up higher the longer Lee left us waiting.
I heard some shuffling, and then a little boy of about three or four years of age shyly poked his head around the door. He was adorable, and I was grinning like an idiot before I had the chance to school my expression.
“Hey, what’s your name?” I asked, bending down a little to meet his eyes. The second I spoke, he dashed off. Sometimes kids got scared when they saw the uniform.
A second later Lee was walking down the hallway toward us, wiping his hands on a dish cloth. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, and I allowed myself a brief moment to take in the intricate tattoos that adorned his arms and the way his jeans hugged his trim waist before straightening my posture. Lee’s eyebrows lifted when he saw me standing there. His expression didn’t give much away, and his attention wandered briefly to Tony before returning to me. He seemed at ease. This was his territory, and I didn’t like it. He had the upper hand, no question.
A slow, easy smile spread its way across his mouth as he eyed me. “I knew you’d come a-knocking sooner or later, Snap.”
“There was a little boy,” I blurted. No idea why I said it.
“That’s Jonathan. He’s my cousin Sophie’s kid. They live here with us.”
“Oh,” I said, staring at him dumbly for a second before remembering why I was there. I cleared my throat. “Well, we’re here on official business. I’ve just come from chasing your brother Trevor down an alley after I caught him trying to steal a Honda. If he’s here, I’d like to speak with him.”
Lee folded his arms. “Like I said, he’s not in. But how do you know it was Trev? Lots of blokes out there who look like him, good-lookin’ son of a gun that he is. I think you’ve got your wires crossed, babe.”
“You’re talking to a police constable, son. Show some respect,” Tony said, bristling at Lee calling me “babe.”
Lee looked at Tony, then at me, and smirked as he dipped his head forward and spoke low. “My apologies, Karla.” The way he said my name gave me that fizzy feeling in my stomach again, but I didn’t let it show. Up until now, he’d never called me by my actual name, always by the nickname he’d decided to give me: Snap, or the longer version, Gingersnap.
“That’s Constable Sheehan to you,” I said firmly.
Some recognition flared in his eyes as he ran a hand over his jaw. “Did you just say Sheehan?”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “That’s right.”
“Fuck.”
“Did I not just tell you to show some respect?” Tony cut in, disgruntled now.
Lee didn’t even look at him this time. His attention was all on me. “Any relation to Superintendent Sheehan?”
I swallowed, my throat growing dry all of a sudden. He knew my dad. Fantastic. “That’s none of your concern. Now, if you could assist us in locating your brother….”
“Oh, Christ, you are, aren’t you? What is he, your uncle? Your old man? Please don’t tell me you’re married to the prick, because that’ll just put me off my dinner.”
His statement made me forget myself for just a second as I screwed up my face in disgust. “Eww, no. He’s my father, you….” I caught myself right before I added the word “idiot” onto the end of my sentence.
“Shiiiit! Your dad? Bloody hell, Snap, now I just feel sorry for you.”
He wasn’t joking, either. There was genuine sympathy in his expression, but I plastered a stoic look on my face. Most everyone who knew my father knew he was a hard-arse, belligerent fucking bully of a man, but he excelled at his job. His personal life, not so much.
“I’m not discussing this with you. Call your brother and tell him to get down here. If he’s innocent like you say he is, then he s
houldn’t mind us asking a few questions.”
Lee didn’t breathe a word; instead, he stared at me in a way that made my uniform feel too constricting, my stab vest too heavy. Slowly, he reached inside his jeans pocket and pulled out an iPhone. After tapping on the screen a few times, he lifted it to his ear, eyes on me as the call rang out. I was close enough to hear it go to voicemail.
“He’s not answering.”
“Amazing that,” Tony deadpanned before gesturing to me. “Come on, we’re not going to get anywhere with this one.”
“Aw, not staying for dinner?” Lee teased, his mouth shaping back into a grin as he held his hands out. “And I went to all this trouble.”
Tony was about to throw some barb back at him when his radio went off with a call from dispatch. He stepped away so he could answer it, thus leaving me alone with Lee, who leaned against the doorjamb and gave me a heated little look. “I have to say, I like you in uniform.”
“Oh, shut it.” I rolled my eyes. There was nothing attractive about my uniform. It was basically men’s clothing on a woman.
“I’m not lying. How’s about you come up to my room for a bit, and I’ll show you how much I like it?” He paused, eyes flicking to the top of my head as he winked. “You can even leave your hat on.”
Completely against my own will, I snickered a laugh, folding my arms across my chest. “No thanks, Tom Jones.”
“I think you’ll find it was Randy Newman who penned the tune. Tom Jones did the cover,” Lee quipped.
I made a concerted effort to regain my professionalism and throw a bucket of cold water over his flirty banter. “When you see your brother, tell him to get himself down the nick to see me.”
“Fucking hell, Snap, you really are Ross Sheehan’s daughter. Growing up must have been shit for you.”
The empathy in his voice caught me off guard. I swallowed but didn’t say anything. Our gazes locked and held, something thick and unspoken passing between us. He took a step outside, past the threshold of his doorway and onto the street. I glanced down at the toes of my boots and back up again, a strand of hair falling from behind my ear. Lee’s hand reached out, as though he were about to tuck it back in, but then he froze before he could touch me. Touching a constable could technically be considered assault. And technically, I could arrest him for that. Maybe that’s why he stopped. Or maybe it was something else.
His eyes softened when he whispered, “If that cranky string of piss weren’t with you right now, it’d be a whole other ball game.”
I looked to Tony, who had just finished with his call. Lee turned and casually went back inside his house, closing the door softly behind him. Giving me a nod, Tony gestured for me to follow him back to the patrol car.
I was about to do just that when the door to the next house burst open and a little girl ran out. She was only about five or six years old, and somebody was shouting loudly at her to get back inside. I stared at her, from her unkempt brown hair to her blue eyes and ratty clothes. Her gaze was wide and full of fear. She returned my stare for just a second before she hurried to Lee’s door and began knocking furiously. The door opened and Lee reappeared, the girl instantly rushing to his side and hugging his leg. He bent down and gently petted her hair.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, and the girl whispered something in his ear. His expression hardened as he nodded and told her to go on inside the house. When his gaze landed on me, it was only for a second. He didn’t say a word, just stood up and closed the door over again.
There was something about the scene that caused a deep part of my heart to ache. Uncared-for children were my one true sore spot, and there was a reason for that. Seeing the girl run to Lee like he was her golden saviour made me feel things I wasn’t ready to explore. I heard somebody clomping their way down the stairs of the house the girl had fled right before a skinny woman with greasy hair and bags under eyes came out, yelling after her daughter.
“I swear to God, Billie, you better get your arse back in here before I give you something to cry about.”
She stopped in her tracks once she saw me, her eyes narrowing in anger. “What the fuck do you want, pig?”
“Was that your daughter?” I asked, clenching my fist tight. I already hated her. It wasn’t my job to hate people, but in this particular case I couldn’t seem to help it. She stepped out of her house, like she was actually considering putting it up to me. Why did crackheads always think they could take you? They had one swing in them, tops, before their energy dried up. She was pointing her finger at me now.
“That’s the problem with you lot, always sticking your oars in where they’re not wanted.”
I heard Tony getting back out of the car and making his way over to us.
“There a problem here, miss?” he asked the woman.
At the sight of my broad, six-foot-three colleague, the woman’s bravery died a quick death as she shook her head. “Nah, no problem,” she hurried to answer before going back inside her house and slamming the door.
Tony patted my shoulder. “Come on.”
Once we were back in the car and buckled up, I let out a slow breath. “Sometimes I wish I was a bloke. Nobody’s scared of a five-foot-six woman.”
“Hey, I’ve seen you spar. You could take down half the men at the station before they’ve even had a chance to blink. Everybody should be scared of you,” said Tony with a grin.
I shot him a small smile. It was true. I practiced eskrima twice a week, which kept me fit and well able to defend myself should the need arise. And in my line of work, the need usually arose.
“So, how do you know that one?” Tony went on, looking back at Lee’s house while I put the car in gear.
“My flatmate used to go out with his brother. She learned her lesson.” And he makes me feel things, my conscience added, things I have no business feeling.
Tony pursed his lips and looked out the window at the less-than-pleasing scenery. I thought where I lived was rough, but this place was pretty dire.
“I imagine she did,” he said. “Families like that, Karla, they have trouble stamped all over them.”
I hated that he was right. “Tell me about it,” I sighed, and then we headed out to deal with a traffic accident on the A10.
When I finally clocked out that night, I had nothing on my mind other than a nice, long soak in the tub and maybe some Chinese takeaway. Unfortunately, my happy thoughts were interrupted by Detective Inspector Katherine Jennings. If a person could be the equivalent of getting shit on by seagulls, then it was DI Jennings. I bumped into her on my way out of the station, and I mean I literally bumped right into her. Damn Lee Cross with his cheeky handsome smiles and probing eyes taking up all my thoughts.
“Watch where you’re going, Sheehan, for Christ’s sake,” she snapped.
Katherine had it in for me, big time. I knew it had something to do with an old feud between her and my dad. Apparently, he’d called her a no-account, dried-up old cunt during a particularly brutal argument when they’d been working on the same case together years ago, but if you asked me, there was more to it than that. Anyhow, thanks to my dear old dad, she now despised the very ground I walked on, and had done everything in her power to make my job difficult since the moment I started working under her.
“Sorry, ma’am, I’ll watch where I’m going next time.” My words were said plainly, with absolutely no sarcasm or sass, but Katherine had a knack for detecting aggression where there was none.
“Take that tone with me again, Constable, and I’ll have you transferred to some shithole district in the back arse of nowhere before you even have time to go crying to Daddy.”
Not once in my life had I ever gone “crying to Daddy,” but I let her have the final word. It was the only way to keep from incurring more of her wrath. Nodding, I internalised my frustration and quietly turned on my heel, continuing on my way.
When I got home, I found Alexis lying face down on the couch while a soap opera played o
n the TV. I didn’t know whether to laugh or worry. This moping behaviour had been a regular occurrence with her ever since the love of her life had disappeared off the face of the planet. Long story short, she’d had an affair with her boss, and he’d done a runner after beating the living daylights out of his own father, almost killing him.
Never let it be said that our lives were uneventful.
“Man, the couch must smell really good,” I commented dryly as I came in and set the bag of Chinese takeout on the coffee table. “Can I get a whiff? I love a good couch-sniffing session.”
“I’m not sniffing the couch,” Alexis whined before sitting up and shooting me the stink-eye. “I was trying to convey my complete and utter sense of loneliness and despair. You know, like performance art, but shittier.”
I laughed and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. Her heart had been through the ringer the past few months, so I could understand where she was coming from. “Seriously, though, how are you feeling?”
“Crap, like usual.”
“I’ve always loved you for your honesty, you know that?” I got a hint of a smile out of her as her eyes wandered to the bag.
“And I’ve always loved you because you’re the kind of class act who brings food home after a shift. Can I?”
“Have at it.”
She picked up the bag and brought it over to the kitchen, finding plates and dishing out the chow mein. I kicked off my boots and went into my bedroom to change out of my uniform. When I returned Alexis was back on the couch, digging into her food while a plate had been set out for me.
“So, how was work?” she asked between mouthfuls.
“It was fine until I bumped into DI Jennings on my way home. I swear, she has this way of draining happiness out of me like nobody else.” I made the decision not to tell Alexis about my run-in with Lee, and I wasn’t quite sure why.
She held her fork in mid-air and let out a long sigh. “I’m telling you, Karla, you need to close tabs on this bitch. Otherwise, she’s just going to keep on pushing until you snap, and then she’ll have a real reason to fire you.”
