Blood Feud (Little Town)

by JD Nixon

  “Well, if you haven’t rung me to tell me the tragic news that you and Maguire have finally played hide the sausage, or that you’ve captured that wild man you have running around, or that you’ve recaptured Red Bycraft, or that you’re feeling guilty and will join us tonight after all, then why the fuck have you rung me? I’m busy.”

  “I thought I’d better check to see if you needed us to do anything at our end to help prepare for tonight.”

  “It’s all under control,” she dismissed.

  “Do all the officers know what Red looks like?”

  “Yep.”

  “Really? They’re not going to confuse him with one of his brothers or cousins?”

  “Ten centimetre scar down the left side of his neck,” she recited, bored, taking another heavy drag on her cigarette. “Everybody fucking knows, Tessie. I’ll even prove it to you. Bum?”

  I heard the heavy footsteps of Bum as he approached. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “How can we tell that viper, Red Bycraft, from his relatives?”

  “Ten centimetre scar down the left side of his neck, ma’am,” I heard Bum say immediately.

  “Good man,” the Super said, momentarily proud of him. But that moment proved ephemeral. “What are you doing still hanging around my office? I didn’t ask you in here for a cappuccino and a cosy conversation about your soft cock problems. Fuck off back to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” and heavy footsteps receded from the other side of the phone.

  “Same goes for you,” she snapped into the phone at me. “I’m busy trying to justify to those mini-brained whale-wankers in the city exactly why it’s so fucking important for my officers to have patrol cars. I mean, just fuck me with a cactus, why don’t you? It would be less painful than dealing with those arseclowns all the time. So you and Sergeant Nobody-gets up-my-date-more-than-him can go find something useful to do for once instead of wasting all your time bumping uglies and bothering me.”

  “Ma’am, you know very well that we don’t –”

  “How about at least pretending you’re trying to apprehend your wild man?”

  “Ma’am, we are, but we won’t be searching for him tonight. I’m going out, remember.”

  A thoughtful silence. “Right. The tea party.”

  “Hen’s party, ma’am.”

  “Whatever. Is there going to be a stripper?”

  “I don’t think so. I hope not. Lizzie’s not the type.” And frankly, neither was I.

  “Probably will be a tea party without a stripper to liven things up. You should have been at my hen’s party. I had a stripper who was more well-hung than the Mona Lisa and had an arse tight enough to bounce babies off. I still haven’t told Ronnie how much I tipped him that night, but he was worth every cent.”

  I laughed, glad that she’d thawed a little. “Well, I was only four. It probably wouldn’t have been a good idea for me to be there.”

  More inhaling and exhaling. “Tessie?” Her voice wasn’t sharp, amused or irritated this time, softer emotions showing.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Make sure you have a good time tonight. If anyone deserves it, you do. So go dance and drink and laugh.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “And don’t worry about Red Bycraft. At least if he’s here in Wattling Bay, he’s not there in Horsecrap Town waiting in a dark spot for you.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I’ll ring you the second we’ve recaptured him.”

  “Oh God, I hope so. Good luck, ma’am.”

  “Put Maguire on.”

  I turned to yell for him only to find him standing behind me, listening to my end of the conversation. Silently, I handed his phone back to him, and in return he handed me an older model phone. While I plugged in the recharger for it, he talked to the Super in a monotone that to me signalled controlled annoyance. She was probably reading him the riot act on keeping me safe tonight, something guaranteed to exasperate the both of us.

  “Yes, ma’am . . . Of course I will . . . There’s no need to remind me about that . . . And me more than anybody . . .” He didn’t get to say any more or to even say goodbye as she’d obviously finished speaking with him and immediately rung off. “She sounds quite confident of recapturing Bycraft tonight.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about getting ready?”

  “I suppose.”

  “You don’t sound very excited about going out.”

  “I’m not. I guess what’s happened lately has killed my enthusiasm for partying.”

  “Look, just forget about Bycraft and forget about Miss Greville for one night.”

  “It’s not easy to just forget about things like that. I feel as if I should be in Big Town helping out instead of at Liz’s party. I feel frivolous.”

  He smiled. “You’re allowed to feel frivolous now and then.”

  “I’m not really a frivolous person.”

  “No, you’re not, which makes it even more important to allow yourself some frivolity occasionally.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. Now go and get ready.”

  I showered, dressed, did my hair, and applied my makeup. When I was ready, I came out of my room to the lounge room where he waited patiently for me.

  He frowned when he set eyes on me. “Where’re the rest of them?”

  “Rest of what?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Your clothes.”

  I laughed. “You have got to be kidding me! You sound like Dad.”

  I’d chosen a pretty emerald green dress that floated around my knees, with spaghetti straps and a neckline that showed off my boobs. It was summery and feminine and I’d probably freeze to death in it, but it was what I wanted to wear tonight. I’d bought it a few months ago when I was feeling richer and hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet. Matched with some very high-heeled sandals, for once I was flashing a bit of flesh.

  “I’m not happy about that dress. It’s too revealing.”

  “Well, get over it. This is what I’m wearing and I’m not changing. Are you ready to give me a lift?”

  “I suppose,” he said reluctantly. “Do you have your knife?”

  “Of course I have it! It’s always my first accessory.”

  “And your phone.”

  I pulled it out of my handbag and waggled it in front of him, smiling openly at his mother hen ways.

  He dropped me off at the town’s sole drinking establishment, The Flying Pigs, promising to return soon to check on me, despite my protests.

  “Ring me if there’s even the slightest sign of trouble,” he insisted as I stepped out of his car holding the beautiful hand-embroidered sheet set I’d bought Lizzie as a hen’s party present.

  “Hopefully all the trouble will be in Big Town tonight.”

  “Let’s hope so, but can you still try to stay out of trouble for five minutes, please?”

  “I’ll try,” I smiled. “But it is a hen’s party and there will be a group of women drinking champagne. Anything could happen.”

  “Oh, brother,” he muttered gloomily, nosing the car away.

  I waved after him and turned to walk inside the pub. A faint rustling in the bushes nearby set the hairs on the back of my neck up in warning – a Bycraft nearby. I tensed, spinning my head left then right trying to determine the threat, my knife out of my sheath.

  Chapter 17

  On glimpsing golden blond hair and a familiar silhouette, I relaxed, sliding my knife back into its sheath.

  “Piss off, Denny,” I said mildly, almost conversationally, not in the mood for shouting. Despite this, he thrashed through the vegetation as he blundered away from me, still terrified of being caught. I guess the memory of me whooping his butt in the ninth grade remained fresh. I didn’t attempt to chase after him. He’d only be back again ten minutes later, spying on me again like the eternal pest he was.

  I was assaulted by a wall of noise as soon as I o
pened the door to the pub, blaring music competing with the boisterous voices of the well-oiled clientele. Abe offered three guest rooms upstairs to cater for tourists who came to Little Town to trek around Mount Big or to fish or participate in watersports at Lake Big. I was willing to bet some of my meagre savings that the rooms were all occupied tonight, the warm spring weather usually heralding the beginning of the tourist season. Not to mention that there were more people than normal in the loud and flashy public bar off to the left of the entrance. To the right was the nicer and quieter lounge bar, leading to the pub’s bistro and its one function room.

  I veered to the right, heading for the function room, when Foxy Dubois, the town’s good-time girl and devoted admirer of the Sarge, accosted me.

  “Tessie Fuller,” she slurred, sagging against me, almost knocking me out with her alcohol-laden breath. She was forty-something with Marilyn Monroe bleached hair and pouty red lips that I couldn’t swear with my hand on my heart hadn’t had some surgical enhancement. Her boobs over-flowed from her tight dark purple dress, and she smelt as if she’d dunked herself in a perfume bath before venturing out for the afternoon. It was her usual habit to become sloshed at the bar each Sunday before giving an allegedly impromptu striptease in her living room, fully aware of the numerous male locals peering in her window with lascivious interest. For some of them, it was the highlight of their week. And as she used to be a professional ‘exotic’ dancer, she probably was pretty entertaining.

  “Foxy,” I acknowledged, attempting to prop her up while simultaneously rearing back from the alcohol fumes. “Are you okay? Do you need a lift home?”

  “I’m great, Officer Tess!” We both nearly tumbled over as she suddenly lurched to the right.

  I checked my watch. “Aren’t you a little late for your . . . um . . . usual Sunday appointment?”

  “That appointment’s been unexpectedly cancelled.” She leaned towards me even as I virtually bent backwards to get away from her. She whispered confidentially in a loud tone that could have been heard ten metres away. “There’re some real cute men in here tonight.” She giggled attractively. “I might get lucky. That’d make a nice change. It’s been a long while between cool drinks, if you know what I mean.” She jiggled her dextrously plucked eyebrows in an unappealing lewd manner.

  “Good luck,” I said, edging away from her.

  “Point me to the ladies’ room please, Tessie.” She giggled again. “Forgot my specs. I’m totally blind tonight.”

  No kidding, I thought to myself. I used her shoulders to point her in the right direction and gave her a little shove between her shoulder blades. “Just keep heading that way. Enjoy yourself, Foxy.”

  “I want to enjoy a man, Tessie Fuller, that’s what I want to do. I’m sick and tired of enjoying myself,” she laughed salaciously and stumbled towards the ladies.

  A man came out of the public bar, also heading to the bathroom, when he spotted me and pulled up suddenly. He opened his mouth to say something when Abe jogged down the stairs at the same time. He wolf-whistled in a friendly way and came over to me.

  He noticed the customer standing in the foyer, staring at me. “You right, mate?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Sure,” the man said and headed to the men’s room, casting a last glance over his shoulder as he disappeared.

  “Hi, Abe,” I said, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “Foxy says there’re some cute guys in tonight?”

  “A group of bushwalkers from New Zealand,” he smiled. “I’m booked solid for the next week. Jenny and I are seriously talking about converting that big shed out the back into more accommodation. Maybe some upmarket hostel type accommodation? I had to turn people away this week because I was full.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “So you and Jenny are discussing the future, are you?”

  A faint tinge of red touched his cheeks. “Maybe.”

  “Is she around tonight?” I asked with feigned innocence, deciding I’d corner her at the first opportunity and grill her about this interesting turn of events. She’d been dating Abe, one of my oldest friends, for over six months now.

  “No, she’s rostered on night shift for the next week. She’ll be staying with her aunt in Big Town.” The genuine regret in his voice at her absence set me smiling again. Nothing would make me happier than to see Abe settled again with somebody he truly loved. He’d found it hard to move on since the murder of his wife almost four years ago, but Jenny, a young constable in Big Town, seemed to be filling that empty gap in his life. Apart from when she was rostered on inconvenient shifts, she and Abe spent all their time together.

  “I think that’s a brilliant idea and it would be great for the town. It’ll bring in loads more people. A lack of accommodation has always the big problem around here.”

  “More people, more crime. Maybe you might get some more cops too,” he smiled.

  I snorted in derision. “Sure we will – the day that pink unicorns start flying over the horizon.”

  “I heard that Red Bycraft is on the loose again.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  He drew himself up to his full six feet and subconsciously flexed his not inconsiderable muscles, his normally tender dark eyes hardening. “He better not show his face around here tonight,” he threatened.

  “Relax. He told me he’s headed for Big Town tonight. But if you do see him, don’t approach him. He might be armed again. Call either the Sarge or me.” I thought for a second. “Actually, just call the Sarge. I’m off duty. And speaking of that, I’m ready to have some fun.”

  “In the function room, sweetheart. Lizzie’s already there, as excited as all hell.”

  “Do Romi and Toni want to join us for a while?” I offered.

  “Oh Tessie, that’s so nice of you. Romi hasn’t said anything, but I know she’s really disappointed to be too young to attend. The girls would love that. Thanks. I’ll send them down in a few minutes.”

  “Only for a while though. They don’t need to see some of the women in the town getting pissed. Especially Toni – particularly as one of them is her teacher.”

  He laughed. “Hey, they both grew up in a pub. They’re used to that. But you’re not . . .?” He left the question hanging.

  “No. I’m not. Although I will have the Sarge watching my back tonight so maybe I can afford to indulge myself for once.”

  “You two seem to spend a lot of time together these days.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. It was merely an observation.”

  “You’d be better off confining your observations to your own establishment,” I said tartly, inclining my head in the direction of the ladies. “Foxy looks as though she needs some help.”

  He spun to view Foxy staggering from the ladies, her dress hitched up into her almost non-existent panties, ninety per cent of her impressively taut butt on show.

  “Oh God,” he groaned. “You have no idea how much I hate Sundays.”

  And while he hastened over to hide her from a family with young children who’d stepped into the pub for a meal at the bistro, I smilingly strolled to the function room. I didn’t need to offer to help Abe manage Foxy. As the owner of a country pub in a town with a family like the Bycrafts, he was used to dealing with unruly patrons. He could bruise it up with the best of them.

  I had fun at Lizzie’s hen’s party. She’d invited about fifteen women, most of them local farmers, but also some townswomen including Gretel, Frannie, Gwen, who owned the town’s craft/sweet shop, and Lavinia, the town’s ‘psychic’. I spent the whole evening dodging Lavinia. She continually tried to trap me so she could tell me my future, her over-enthusiastic leer hinting it was a particularly violent and blood-splattered ending she predicted for me. I was equally keen not to be jinxed by hearing that gruesome prediction, and so avoided her at all cost.

  “You can’t run from your future, Teresa Fuller,” she bellowed after me as I once again escaped to the other side of the room, her eyes round with antici
pation at spoiling not just my evening, but my entire life. I’d never been able to understand her motivation for hounding me, assuming it had something to do with her wanting to make a name for herself. But let’s face it – you didn’t need to be psychic to predict that my demise was even odds for being at the hands of a Bycraft and rather brutal in nature.

  I busied myself at the food table, pretending not to hear her further laments over what she deemed my ‘cowardice’ in not facing my inevitable fate.

  Abe’s chef, far too talented for our little town, had prepared a beautiful smorgasbord, which was scoffed down greedily. I danced with Romi and Toni to music from the DJ that Lizzie had hired, all three of us holding hands. It wasn’t long though before I had to send them back upstairs when it started to become a little rowdy in the room. Romi resisted, reminding me that she was seventeen and no longer a child. But when I reminded her in turn that did not make her of legal drinking age and I’d call Abe into the room for adjudication, she reluctantly complied, dragging herself upstairs, her face a study in misery.

  Female farmers were tough women, conditioned to disappointment and hardship, but tonight they were determined to enjoy themselves. And judging from the amount of champagne swiftly disappearing down their throats, they were all ready and willing to blow off some steam, including the bride-to-be.

  “Lizzie, slow down,” I exhorted at one stage, grabbing her arm as she raised a champagne flute to her mouth again. “Brett asked me to make sure you didn’t go too crazy tonight.”

  “Brett’s an old woman sometimes,” she complained, her eyes already glazing over. She was regally attired in her bride-to-be tiara and sash. “Did you know he’s never been drunk in his entire life? Not even once.”

  I wasn’t surprised by that comment. His father had not misused alcohol very often, but when he had he’d been a mean drunk, free with his fists and his belt. Brett and his little sister, Caroline, had suffered at his hands more than once. Lizzie knew that as well as I did.

  I stared at her reproachfully. “That’s a little unfair, Liz.”

  “Just go away, Tessie. You’re spoiling my evening by being so boring. Why can’t you just have fun for once,” she grumbled, turning her back on me and upending her glass, draining the contents and immediately reaching for another.