by N. M. Brown
‘He’s a fuckin liar!’ the stranger screeched, his voice cracking with emotion. Leighton ignored the interruption, keeping his tired eyes fixed on the small girl’s face.
‘If you trust me, I’ll take you to your mom. She’s the one who can really keep you safe – not some scary man. Okay?’
Tina’s small tired eyes revealed her exhaustion and confusion. She didn’t know what to do.
‘He’s telling the truth, baby,’ a croaky voice called out from over Leighton’s shoulder. He turned his head to see Angela, her eyes barely open and a ruby trickle of blood staining her forehead. She was standing upright but gripping the barn door frame for support.
The sight of her mom, bleeding but alive, was too much for Tina. She suddenly stepped across the creaking beam to Leighton who scooped her up his arms and stumbled from the barn into a fog of dense choking smoke.
Behind him, the stranger roared and snorted in rage. It was inconceivable that the kid did not fall for his technique. Possessed with a sudden need to slaughter them all, he pulled his hunting knife from a buckskin sheath on his belt. He then hurried towards the beam that Tina had deftly crossed. However, as he tried stepping forwards – putting his weight on the narrow plank – he heard the dry crack of breaking wood.
‘Fuck!’ he roared, as he stared down at the twelve-foot drop that would surely see him landing atop a group of rusty pipes. He steadied himself, then turned and ran through the rear of the dusty barn. Racing around the side of the smouldering building, he moved in the same direction as Leighton but by the time he stepped outside, the stranger discovered that the cop and the kid had vanished. He spun around looking jerkily in every direction, but the smoke from the encroaching fire was blocking any sunlight. Even the farm buildings were melting into the expanding grey void. He realised then that he now had three witnesses who would provide a compelling case to any jury. If he allowed any of them to survive, his fate would be sealed, and he had heard how child killers were treated in jail.
‘I’m going to find you!’ he screamed into the dense white air, ‘I’m going to fucking skin all three of you!’
Craven tilted his head and listened like a demented dog. From somewhere nearby, he heard the muffled sound of a child coughing. Grinning to himself, Craven broke into a run, following the sound into the smoke where he was soon consumed in the white drifting madness.
Leaping over fallen trees he followed the sound of sporadic coughing through the smoke. Pulling his T-shirt collar up over his mouth and nose, he leapt around the woods – blade in hand – like some ghost from the frontier. He stopped every few paces, when his head twitched from side to side as he listened intently for his prey. It was difficult to distinguish the sound of footfalls from twigs cracking in the escalating heat. Eventually, however, he heard another cough, and locked his head on to the direction of the sound. With the encroaching fire pressing in on all sides, he raced after the sound of the girl coughing.
Leaping through the maze of dried trees, Craven was easily able to catch up with the cop, who was slowed by the weight of the kid and the stumbling of her semi-conscious mother. Within moments, the killer appeared a few feet in front of Leighton and Angela. He was barely visible in the billowing thick smoke that was filling the area. A smile flickered across his face. As Leighton looked desperately from side to side.
It was clear to everyone that carrying the sleeping bundle that was Tina made it impossible for the cop to escape. For once in his life, Leighton wished he had a gun.
‘I told you, I’d find you,’ Craven called out with a wide, self-satisfied smile.
‘I’m sorry,’ Leighton said to Angela while he kept his eyes fixed on Craven.
‘You should be,’ Craven said, gleefully. ‘You brought her here to this place to die in the dirt.’
Leighton turned around in the hope of finding an escape but still held fast to the child. The fact that their attacker stood only a few feet away made escape impossible. In the smoky gloom, with his wild appearance, Craven looked entirely like the stuff of nightmares. His clothes were streaked with mud and ash, only his eyes and teeth stood out in the shadows. In his right hand he held the long knife. His skinny arms were scratched and bleeding. The hand gripping the long blade was trembling with a combination of excitement and rage.
It was then that Leighton noticed the split tree slightly to Craven’s left.
‘Angela,’ he said, softly, ‘I need you to move with me, okay?’
Tina’s mother nodded.
Leighton carried the child two steps to one side.
‘Hey, where you off to?’ Craven called out. ‘That’s pathetic. I already told you – time’s up!’
‘Take another step,’ Leighton whispered.
Angela moved, and still with the child in his arms, Leighton moved too.
‘You’re not going fucking anywhere!’ Craven roared and lurched through the trees towards Leighton who instinctively turned around to shield Tina with his body.
There was a sudden loud cracking noise followed by a guttural scream. In the haze of thickening smoke, Leighton turned his head to see the stranger thrashing around on the ground. Even from where he stood, Leighton could see that Craven’s left leg had been snapped in the bear trap which now gripped it like a piece of meat in a vice.
‘Fucking help me,’ Craven screeched, ‘for God’s sake.’ His eyes were bulging and veins stuck out on his neck like fleshy tendrils. He desperately attempted to shift his body, and screamed again as the crushed fragments of bone grated against each other.
Even if he hadn’t been carrying Tina, Leighton still would not have prevented Angela Blanchette from doing what she did next.
Stepping forward, in an almost dreamlike way, she picked up the knife that Craven had dropped. The one he hoped to use on her and her child.
‘Take her out of here, please,’ she said to Leighton.
Leighton looked at her for a moment and then nodded. He hoisted Tina up on to his shoulder and ran, stumbling and looking out for traps, in the direction where the smoke looked least dense. Eventually he found himself standing on a dusty plain devoid of trees.
Moments later, Angela burst out of the trees behind Leighton. She was no longer carrying the knife.
‘Look,’ he pointed to the burning slope behind them. ‘I guess we can’t go back over the hill now,’ Leighton said.
But Angela wasn’t listening; she was only concerned with stroking her daughter’s hair.
‘We need to find the car,’ Leighton said, ‘if it’s torched already we’ll have a long walk south. Can you manage that?’
‘I can manage anything now,’ Angela said. ‘Thank you, Leighton.’
‘Hey, save it till we are out of this barbecue,’ Leighton said as he adjusted Tina on his shoulder. ‘Let’s go!’
They skirted around the edge of the hill and discovered that the direction of the spreading fire – which had cut across the entire hill at an angle – had spared Leighton’s car. The entire slope of the hill above it had been reduced to black stubble. Leighton’s sense of relief was clearly visible on his face. Angela thought it was because now they could all go home, but in actual fact Leighton’s joy was because of his car’s connection to the people he loved.
Moving carefully, Leighton helped Angela into the back seat, where Tina – who was only half awake – refused to let her mom go. Leighton stretched a safety belt across the pair of them.
As the car bounced back over the charred and dusty landscape, Leighton tried to drive as carefully as he could. To the western side of the car he could see fire-planes swooping in above the hillsides to drop a slow pink mist onto the spreading flames. The misty falling water in the air was almost hypnotic.
‘Leighton,’ Angela said.
‘Yeah?’
‘There’s no rush.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘it’s just this surface is a bit crazy.’
‘No, I mean, I’m quite happy here like this.’ She glanced down at her
sleeping child. ‘I had nothing, and you gave me everything back. Thank you – for everything.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Leighton said, softly, and for a moment he almost liked himself.
Chapter Sixty
Leighton drove into the parking lot of Oceanside Police Station. This time he used the area at the front of the building. It seemed to Leighton, upon returning from the vast scorched landscape of Pembleton Farm, that the peach coloured building on Mission Avenue was somehow smaller.
He had only just got out of the car when Chief Winston slammed the glass door of the station open and rushed out of the building. As he strode towards Leighton, his eyes were hidden in a maze of angry lines.
‘Jones, where the fuck have you been?’ he barked. ‘I got a report from the owner of the Four Winds Trailer Park of a break-in to one of his trailers, the licence plate he gave matches yours. Then I hear from the fire commissioner who states that you deliberately entered into an active hot zone in the middle of the wildfires. What the hell is wrong with you?’
‘Sorry, chief,’ Leighton said, calmly, ‘I went looking for Tina, but it’s okay because–’
‘Shut the hell up! I don’t want to hear any more of your madness!’ Winston interrupted and held up his hand to silence the younger officer.
‘But sir–’ Leighton tried.
‘Enough, Jones, I mean it! You’re a pretty good cop. God knows you’ve had your personal and professional problems and that’s the reason I’ve been accommodating to you.’
‘I appreciate that, sir.’
‘Then why would an officer in your situation disobey a direct order?’
‘I don’t know,’ Leighton shrugged, ‘I just had a feeling.’
‘You had a feeling?’
‘Okay, it was more than that – a hunch or instinct – something like that.’
‘Christ, man, you’re a fucking traffic cop, not a Coney Island psychic.’
‘I know,’ Leighton looked at his feet, ‘I’m sorry, sir.’
‘Well, that’s of little consequence; I have no choice but to suspend you pending investigation into gross misconduct.’
‘Oh, come on, chief, that’s half pay. You can’t be serious? I’ve got bills to pay.’
‘And the worst part is this, Jones,’ Winston pointed an assertive finger a Leighton’s chest, ‘that whilst your skipping about the Oceanside backwoods with a flashlight, the little kid is most likely sitting pretty in Alaska with her daddy.’
‘You’re wrong, sir,’ Leighton said with a sigh, ‘I’m not accepting suspension. I can’t.’
‘Stop speaking, officer.’ Winston appeared as if he was about to combust.
‘Don’t you even want to know what I discovered out there?’ Leighton asked.
‘Don’t start again with this bull, Jones. You’re the one who’s wrong. I don’t want to hear another word or that suspension will become permanent. With a kid to raise on your own, you need to be a hell of a lot more responsible.’
‘Sir, with all due respect, you’re way out of line.’
‘Jesus! Okay, I’m done with this shit. Jones, you’re fired!’
‘What?’ Leighton frowned in shock, his thoughts were scrambled in a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
‘You heard me. And you brought this shit down on your own head. I told you that your wild turkey hunt for the kid was a fucking waste of time, but no – you had to go follow your half-assed instinct. Well, I guess now you’ll have a hell of a lot more free time to spend wandering around the countryside in search of the kid.’
With his authority asserted, Chief Winston adjusted his tie then turned and walked back towards the glass doors of the station. He had almost reached them when he heard a woman’s voice call from behind him.
‘Excuse me, chief!’ she called out across the baking heat of the station parking lot.
Winston slowly turned around to see Angela Blanchette standing next to Leighton Jones. The woman looked exhausted, scraped and bruised and yet capable of fighting off the entire world if she had to. In contrast, the grubby child sleeping in her arms looked blissfully calm with one sweaty arm curled instinctively around her mother’s neck.
‘My name is Angela Claire Blanchette, and I would just like to confirm,’ she said in a voice which was hoarse from endless nights of calling into the darkness for her lost child, ‘that – with the help of this good man here – my baby girl is no longer missing. Some sick bastard had taken her, just like I said.’
Chief Winston looked suddenly pale. ‘Miss, I don’t–’
This time it was Leighton’s turn to hold up a hand and silence the chief.
‘Don’t bother, chief. Mrs Blanchette probably wants to sign the paperwork and get her kid safely home. Given that instead of relaxing in Alaska, Tina spent several nights scared and alone on a deserted orchard hiding from a deranged killer, I’d imagine that she needs to get home for a bath and some decent food.’
‘There are still procedures to go through,’ Winston said, but his voice was less authoritative.
‘Well, maybe some of those medical checks can be done at home just as easily,’ Leighton said as he led Angela and Tina past Chief Winston and towards the entrance of the police station.
An hour later, despite Leighton’s optimism, both Tina and her mother had been taken to the Tri City Medical Centre for an examination. A couple of units had been dispatched to the Old Mill Way site, but the spreading fire made it impossible to get anywhere near the old farm.
In the meantime, standard protocol meant that Leighton had been required to submit a written report. So, he had dutifully taken the triplicate form to the area of the station shared by traffic and general crime.
Slumping into a seat, Leighton had only started filling in his form when he became aware of a presence standing over him. He glanced up and realised it was Captain Pierce.
‘Thank you very fucking much, Jones,’ he said.
Leighton glanced up. He had expected some fallout from the incident, but Pierce looked enraged.
‘What’s your problem, captain? The kid’s alive. I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Pleased? You deliberately fucked up an investigation of another team, for your own personal glory and pissed off my boss.’
‘That’s not true.’ Leighton pointed an accusative finger back at Pierce. ‘I tried to hand everything I had to anybody else who might listen. But nobody would – not you or Levvy or the chief.’
‘Well, I hope you’re happy that you deliberately made your colleagues, Officers Dane and Lorenzo, look incompetent.’
‘Hey, those two did that all by themselves.’
‘Man, I’m just glad I’m moving on from this shithole!’
‘You and me both,’ Leighton said with a wry smile.
‘You’re going to get yourself fired if you don’t watch that attitude.’
‘Maybe,’ Leighton shrugged, ‘but not twice in the same day. Even I’m not that special.’
Pierce turned to go, but couldn’t leave without throwing a final curveball. ‘I’ll be sure to remind Gretsch to keep you on a tight leash.’
‘Who the hell is Gretsch?’ Leighton asked.
‘Your new boss as of next Tuesday. Oh, and starting Monday you’ve got a new partner – Danny Clarke. Try to do a better job of getting along with him than you did with the last one.’
With those parting words, Pierce turned on his heels and left.
Leighton finished his report with a smile on his face; Tina was safe and Angela had her child back. It was also good to know that Pierce was leaving, and that Teddy was no longer on his back. There was also comfort to be found in the fact that he would now have a dependable partner in Danny Clarke, but knowing that Tina was safe and that his own little girl would be returning home was more than enough to lift Leighton’s spirits.
Epilogue
Leighton picked up the telephone and held it to his ear for a moment. He then felt a sudden sense of doubt and quickly retu
rned it to the cradle. It seemed ridiculous that he would be so affected by the thought of asking somebody to dinner. And yet, standing in the doorway between his kitchen and living room, he felt like an excited teenager trying to summon the courage to ask for a prom date. But it was perhaps because he liked Angela so much, that the situation felt much more pressured than it had to be.
Unable to face the prospect of a telephone exchange in which he would be unable to read Angela’s facial expressions, Leighton decided on a different course of action. Moving into the kitchen he opened a drawer packed with paperwork. After rummaging around, he pulled out the white-paged book and laid it on the kitchen counter. After thumbing through the thin pages for a moment, he eventually stopped, folded back a page corner and carried the book back to the telephone. Leighton picked up the handset and punched in the numbers.
Holding the phone to his ear he waited for a moment, and glanced anxiously around his small living room. There was a click and a cheerful voice answered.
‘Hello, Floral Fantastic. How may I help you today?’
‘Hi,’ Leighton said, softly, ‘I’d like to order some flowers, yellow roses if you have them.’
‘Is that a bouquet or an arrangement?’
‘I don’t know,’ Leighton felt a moment of panic, ‘what would you suggest?’
‘Well, are the flowers for collection or delivery?’
‘Delivery, I’d like them sent to her house.’
‘Then a bouquet would be nice.’
‘Thank you,’ Leighton said with an audible sense of relief.
‘What would you like the card to say?’
‘The card?’
‘Yes, we place them in with the flowers, to let the recipient know who sent them.’
