by Juanita Kees
He walked through the door to the workshop just as she drew level with it. She saw him and took a few steps back. Wordlessly, he tossed her the toolbox key. She caught it effortlessly, pocketed it and walked around him to clock in.
Ignoring him, TJ yelled, “Where’s the booking schedule, boys? Who’s taking first swing?”
And it was back to business. Scott turned on his heel and pushed his way back through the door.
Relieved, TJ blew the stray strands of hair out of her eyes before turning to face the team. She rattled off the job allocations and, one by one, the technicians dispersed.
“Marty?” she called. No response. “Tony! Where’s Marty?” Her heartbeat raced.
“Dunno. Trades college?”
“No, college is Tuesdays for him. Anyone seen Marty?”
There was a chorus of ‘no’ and head-shaking.
“Damn it!”
She whipped her phone out of her pocket and dialled. Marty’s mum was as unhelpful as usual. She didn’t know. The boy was his own boss. TJ tried Marty’s phone and swore again as it went to voice mail.
“Damn it, Tony! You were supposed to keep an eye on him.”
“Geez, TJ! Do you know how busy we were without you? Besides, he was here on Friday.”
“Why didn’t you pick him up for work this morning?”
“Because he said he’d catch the train.”
“You know when he catches the train we always send someone to meet him!”
“I had no one to send! Short-staffed, remember?”
She punched the number of the railway police into her phone. She had an arrangement with them for all her project kids. The railway police kept an eye on them from the time they boarded until they got off at their home station.
“You guys seen Marty Petrowski today?”
“No, TJ. Problem is, we haven’t seen any of the other Tag Raiders either.”
TJ’s heart sank into her stomach. That wasn’t a good sign. She’d spent months working hard to keep the gang off the streets and out of trouble. Four boys: Tiny, Marty, Luke and Connor. Four troubled boys, lost somewhere between boyhood and manhood as they bowed under peer pressure and the lure of drugs and alcohol. If none of them was on the train today, it could mean only one thing. They were back on the streets, looking for trouble.
“Shit! Thanks.” She hung up. “Tony, you’re in charge. I’m going after Marty.”
“You can’t. Not on your own. Remember what happened last time? You almost got yourself killed.”
She shivered. “I have to find him. I can’t have him going off the rails again, especially now with Scott Devin in charge. The whole program is at risk.”
“Then take him with you.”
“Who? Scott Devin? You can’t be serious?”
Tony’s look told her he was.
“Well, I guess that would give him a first-hand look at the reason for the apprenticeship rehabilitation program. Or it could be the final nail in the coffin.”
Tony shrugged. “Or you can wait to see if Marty shows up.”
“You know what this means. He’s not going to show up. He thinks I’m not here anymore, so the whole thing will go out the window—along with everything else we’ve tried to make this program work. Damn it! Give me the keys for the service ute.”
Tony flicked them off the wall and held them up in the air out of her reach. It was at times like these that being short really sucked!
“You gonna ask the boss to go with you?”
“Yes, damn it! Give me the keys!”
He kept them suspended in the air in one hand and held out the other.
“What?” she snapped.
“That’ll be $1 for the swear jar.”
She swore again and fished out $1.20. Slapping the coins into his palm, she jumped up and grabbed the keys out of his other hand. She swung through the connecting door at a run and only stopped when she reached Scott’s office door. Taking a deep breath, she knocked twice and opened the door without waiting for a response.
“Scott … Mr Devin … you need to come with me now!”
“To where? I’m trying to sort through this mess!”
“That’s nothing compared to the mess you’re going to be in if you don’t help me find Marty!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There’s no time to explain! Please, I need you to come with me.”
The urgency in her voice had Scott grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.
“Where we’re going, you’re not going to need a jacket. In fact, leave your watch and any other valuables behind too—including your wallet.”
He raised his eyebrows but dropped the jacket on his desk to remove his watch and rolled up his sleeves. “I guess I’m going to have to trust you on this one. Where are we going?”
“To find Marty.”
“The apprentice?”
“Yes!” she hissed. “Hurry up!”
Long legs carried him across the office. In a flash, he had her by the elbow and gently urged her out the door.
“Well, lead on then. You can tell me more on the way.”
She ran as he strode beside her to the ute. She barely gave him a chance to open the door before she had it in gear and was pulling away.
“Tiger, we really need to talk about safety at the next toolbox meeting,” he sighed as he snapped his seatbelt buckle into the retainer.
She cast him a mocking glance as she pulled into the traffic, one hand on the wheel, the other dialling a number on her mobile.
“Remind me to have Bluetooth fitted to the ute,” he said.
“Fit Bluetooth to the ute.” She put the phone up to her ear. “Mark! You might want to follow me. I’m heading to the Tag Raiders clubhouse. Yes, I’m talking on hands free! Here, ask my boss.” She tossed the phone into Scott’s lap.
He picked it up with a shake of his head. “Scott Devin.”
“She wasn’t on hands free, was she?” A voice chuckled in his ear.
“Uh, nope.”
“I didn’t think so. Are you going with her to the clubhouse?”
“I guess.”
“Good. Last time she went down there, we brought her back in an ambulance. I don’t want to have to do that again.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m Detective Mark Johnson. My partner Harold Jones and I will meet you down there. Try to keep her out of a brawl until we get there.”
Scott looked over at TJ. She raised her eyes to the roof lining of the cab.
“I can’t make any promises.” He hung up on the detective’s chuckle. “Why did you come back in an ambulance?”
“Tiny had a syringe filled with drugs. He aimed, I blocked hard and sprained my wrist. He got me in the leg with the syringe. The good news is that, after months of waiting, I got the all clear.”
“Tiny?”
“The gang leader and, yes, he is tiny. About my height, thin as a stick and, when he’s on a high, as strong as a big red kangaroo.”
Scott gripped the car door handle as she weaved in and out through the traffic. He closed his eyes as she came a little too close to a rear bumper. “So why are we going down there with the cops on our tail, and why is it messy for me?”
She braked to take the turn onto the highway and accelerated up the ramp to merge with the traffic. “Because you own the program, and Marty is your responsibility.”
“What program?”
She cast him a glance. “You don’t know about the program? Wasn’t it in the business plan?”
“I’m discovering that there are a lot of things that weren’t in the business plan.”
“Damn!” She fiddled in the top pocket of her overall shirt and pulled out 20c. “Keep that for me. I’m going to be broke before pay day at this rate. We’re a flagship dealer for the apprentice rehabilitation program. We take juvies, give them an apprenticeship, mentor them, train them and attempt to rehabilitate them. While they’re in our care, we are their guardians,
or try to be. Each one comes with a contract. We lose one, we have to explain to the judge. They have a counsellor from the apprenticeship board who comes in once a week to monitor and report. He’s due in on Wednesday. We need to find Marty and pray that Tiny hasn’t got him high again by experimenting with new drugs. If we’re too late, we have less than two days to get him cleaned up for inspection.” She took an exit off the highway into an industrial area. “Tiny was one we lost. He went back on the street. Now he’s a runner.”
Scott digested the information as she pulled up into the car park of a block of storage units.
“Has Marty fallen off the wagon before?”
“Not in the last six months. The last time was when council slapped a stop work order on the renovation of the cabins.”
“The ones on your property?”
“Yes. It was supposed to be a weekend building project for the kids to keep them off the street. We had to stop because of the asbestos in the cladding. We need professionals to do the removal because of the health risk. Tiny and Marty ran away. They figured if there was no place for them to stay, the apprenticeship program would be canned too. I got Marty back and lost Tiny.” She switched off the ignition and pocketed the keys. “Stay here. They don’t know you. But if you see me getting a hiding, feel free to butt in.”
“I’m not letting you go alone.”
He was out the door and standing in front of the car before she could argue. TJ sighed. She hoped Marty and Tiny were in a cooperative state of mind. Would she find Connor and Luke there too?
“You’re the reason he ran away. It’s unlikely he’ll be feeling friendly.”
“That’s a chance I’ll have to take. He ran away because I fired you?”
“No, he ran away because when you fired me, you put the program in jeopardy. Again.” She moved towards the second warehouse on the block. “Marty!”
Silence greeted her call. TJ darted between the walls of the storage units, searching left and right as she rounded each corner. Scott followed closely. He slammed into her back as she drew to a sudden halt. His arms wrapped around her waist automatically to stop her falling forward. Her breath whooshed out as she found herself plastered against him. The arms that formed an iron band around her tightened. Warmth flooded her and she closed her eyes, savouring the security of his body, hard and muscular at her back … just for a moment.
“Fark me! You come back for more? Didn’ ya learn yer lesson?”
TJ opened her eyes to see Tiny standing in the gap between the units. As he moved closer, she could see the sheen of sweat on his freckly brow. His pupils were large black masses in his normally muddy brown eyes. Shaky fingers curled around a baseball bat.
TJ wriggled free of Scott’s arms, relieved when he let go easily, pleased when he stayed close behind her as she stepped forward.
“Tiny, where’s Marty?”
The boy shrugged. “Dunno, mate.”
TJ wanted to grab him by the ear and give him the damn good shaking he needed. In his current drugged state, it would be a waste of energy. She stepped forward. He raised the bat.
“I know he’s here, Tiny. Is he clean?”
“Whaddya care? No one fark’n cares!” His speech slurred as he staggered and put a hand against the shed wall to steady himself. He blinked the sweat from his eyes.
TJ used the distraction to step forward and make a grab for the bat. An instant too late, Tiny snapped to attention and wrestled her for it. He pulled it away and brought it down towards her shoulder. It never made contact. All TJ saw was Scott’s big hand shoot past her and grab the head of the bat. She felt the force of the connection vibrate through his arm, heard the thwack as it hit the flat of his palm. Within seconds, he had Tiny face down in the dirt with his arms pinned behind him and a knee in his back.
“Where’s Marty?”
The boy remained stubbornly silent.
“You have three seconds before the cops arrive. Hear those sirens?”
Tiny lifted his head to spit on the ground. “Means nothin’!”
“It should!”
“The cops are ’tards! A stint in juvie and we’re on the street again. They can’t touch us, man!”
“You’re not dealing with the cops. You’re dealing with me. And last time I looked, you’re in breach of your contract. Hello, I’m your new boss. So guess what? As soon as the paperwork is signed, you’re back in the program.”
“I’m not coming back to that dumbass program to be told what to do by a … girl!” He spat in the dirt again.
“You can and you will.” Scott pulled the boy to his feet with a jerk, keeping his arm behind his back. He pushed him forward to where the unmarked police car had come to a halt, blue light flashing on the dashboard. “Detective Johnson?”
“Yep. Where’s TJ?”
“Oh for—” Scott shoved the boy towards the policemen. “Here hang onto Tiny for me. I’ll go and find her.”
Scott turned to see TJ rounding the corner of a unit and running towards him, her phone to her ear. As she spoke into the phone, she waved to him to follow her.
“Overdose on Ice. Snorted. He’s collapsed on the floor and having convulsions. I can’t get near him. His legs are everywhere. Yep, sure.” Scott heard her say as he caught up. She led him into a pile of large crates stacked together to form a cubby. In the corner lay Marty. His body jerked and shivered as tremors racked it. His feet kicked out wildly.
“I’ll grab his legs. Get him on his side so he doesn’t choke.” In a flash, Scott was on the floor, dodging Marty’s feet and knees. He threw his upper body across the boy’s legs and pinned them down. Marty continued to squirm.
“Marty, mate! It’s TJ. Please stop fighting so I can help you.” She reached for his face to get him to focus on her. She knew her words wouldn’t make sense to him but she continued to speak, soothing, comforting. Spit formed around Marty’s mouth as he thrust his head from side to side. She reached for his shoulders and forced him onto his side, pinning him there as she started to sing.
“Well, there’s a little boy waiting at the counter of a corner shop…”
By the time she got to the second chorus, the wail of the approaching ambulance accompanied her and the boy’s body had stilled. The only sound in the makeshift clubhouse was TJ’s sweet voice and Marty’s uncontrolled sobs.
Chapter Four
TJ watched as Marty disappeared behind the ambulance doors, tightly strapped to the stretcher. It would take him a while to come down. Thank God they’d found him in time. Tears stung her eyes and she tried to force them back, but the months of worrying over the boys were beginning to take their toll. They slid unchecked down her cheeks. What happened to the program was dependent on Scott Devin’s reaction to what he’d just seen. She wiped the tears away with the edge of her shirt. Firm hands descended on her shoulders and squeezed gently.
“You okay?”
She nodded, not quite trusting her voice yet. Scott turned her to face him and spotted the tear tracks. He fished out his handkerchief, tipped up her chin and scrubbed them away.
“You had dirt on your face,” he said and let her chin go. “They’re taking Tiny in. I’ll be at the hearing to make sure we get him back into the program. We need to talk about this, TJ.”
She nodded again, keeping her gaze trained at a point over his shoulder. “Can it wait?” The pain in her voice couldn’t be disguised.
“Sure.” Scott tipped her chin again so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “This afternoon, my office, after lunch. Now give me the keys. I’m driving this time. I’d like to get back to the office in one piece.”
She fished out the keys and dropped them in his outstretched palm. With his hand at her back, she let him guide her to the ute. Silence screamed in the cab as Scott negotiated his way back to the highway. TJ stared out the window, her fingers worrying the hem of her shirt. He leaned over and put his hand on hers, effectively stilling them. Warmth shot through her like a lightning
bolt, touching places it had no business touching. She jumped at the force of the heat. He withdrew his hand and stared at the road ahead. After a moment, he asked, “So what was the singing about?”
TJ sighed. “Each kid that comes through the program is given a signature tune. Some come through mishaps, others—like Marty’s—are earned through habits. When Marty first started with us, he was given all the dirty jobs to do, like emptying bins and cleaning toilets. That’s what all first-year apprentices have to do. He became bored quickly and wanted to move on to doing real work. When I handed out the jobs in the mornings, he’d stand in the queue and shout, ‘What about me, TJ? What about me?’ Now every time he says it, we all start singing that song. Since quite a few of the technicians came to us as a result of the program, too, we all have our own songs. It makes the workshop fun because at any time someone can say or do something that starts up a chorus. It also stopped all the arguing over which radio station should be playing.”
“Because you don’t need a radio?”
She smiled. “Exactly.”
“What’s yours?”
“My what?”
“Signature tune.”
She smiled. Scott swore that every time she did, the sun shone brighter. The boys were right. There was a lot more to TJ than he knew. He wouldn’t mind finding out, but that was a dangerous game to play. He’d learnt that lesson after his relationship with Serena Snow.
“Helen Reddy’s I am Woman.”
Scott laughed. “It suits you. I’ve heard you roar, Tiger. What about the swear jar?”
“The swear jar is our Christmas fund. Every time you swear, you’re fined 20c and it goes into the swear jar. At the end of the year, we divide it up equally and use the proceeds to buy each other Secret Santa gifts.”
As they approached the dealership, silence fell between them. Scott parked the ute in a service bay. Neither made a move to get out. After a few moments, TJ held out her hand for the key, glad when he dropped it into her palm without making contact. She wasn’t sure her system could handle the heat. It was a long time since she’d allowed herself to notice the effect of a man. Why did it have to be this one?
