by Diane Wood
“She’s just nervous,” he responded quietly. “It’s the cards…you know. But I’ve got good news. Jeremy and Samantha will be at home this weekend. Jeremy’s back with me until the next holidays, and I’ve got Sam for at least a week.”
“What’s happening with your business?” she asked, curious that there had been no activity at the house since she’d renewed the contact and apparently no parties.
“We’ve got one of the girls running the business from another house while Mother’s here.”
“In preparation for you leaving the country by any chance?” she asked irritably.
He was silent.
“When is it supposed to happen?”
“When she resolves certain problems she has over here.”
“So she believes you’re going with her?”
“Yes.”
“And am I one of the problems she has to resolve? Or does she feel she’s already done that?”
“How would I know, Nat?” he asked tiredly. “Since I tried to convince her that we don’t need to take the children with us and since she found out I’d been to your flat that night and didn’t immediately tell her about Alex, she doesn’t tell me anything. Besides, the only reason Mother thinks she’s got problems is because the fucking cards tell her so.”
“I’ll see you on Sunday, George,” she replied flatly. “I want to go to bed now.”
That night when she was getting changed, Nathalie found a T-shirt that Alex had worn the last night she’d stayed. Holding it to her face, she breathed in the precious sensual smell of this kind, beautiful woman—her lover. Memories flooded in. Curling into a ball she placed the T-shirt under her head, allowing the flashbacks of Alex’s voice, her laughter, her warmth and affection to wash over her.
The nightmares still came, but their intensity was less. Or maybe it was just that in comparison to her life right now, they were having less effect.
* * *
On Thursday, Nathalie and Josh were out interviewing people when they heard the urgent call for a car to attend an intruder on premises at a location only one street away. Radio said the call had come from an elderly person inside the house and that the nearest uniform car was at least ten minutes away. Acknowledging the job, they headed for the address.
Knocking on the front door, their guns discreetly by their sides, and getting no answer, they pushed the unlocked door open. “Mrs. Landers, it’s the police,” Josh called out, carefully stepping into the hallway.
The house was deathly silent.
Identifying themselves again, they began moving from room to room. Finally, they moved toward the back area—Josh walking ahead of Nathalie into the enclosed sunroom. As his eyes focused on a movement at the other end of the room, he began to raise his gun.
That’s when the baseball bat hit him across the chest and continued upward, smashing into his face and knocking him to his knees—his weapon flying from his hand.
Nathalie raised her gun and pointed it at the man with the baseball bat, shouting for him to put it down. But he had a partner further down the room.
“Drop the gun, bitch,” he screamed, holding an elderly lady with one arm while he jammed a shortened rifle under her chin. “Drop it or I’ll fucking kill her.”
“No,” she said, continuing to keep the gun trained on his partner. “Shoot her and I’ll shoot your friend.”
“Jesus, Luke,” the man with the baseball bat whimpered. “She fucking means it.” He was panicked, but the man with the gun was cooler—his eyes were vicious and mean.
“Let the lady go,” Nathalie said, trying to keep her eyes on both men. “The place will be crawling with police in the next minute or two. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Drop the bat and move over here, Denny,” the older man ordered. “She won’t fucking shoot you if you’re not armed.”
Nervously the skinny young man dropped the bat and backed away from Josh, who was on his knees, watching in silence. Moving backward, Denny made his way to the man called Luke.
“Pick up the pig’s gun,” demanded the older man, indicating Josh’s discarded weapon, but Denny hesitated. “Just do it,” he ordered.
Bending down, but keeping his eyes on Nathalie, the skinny man held the gun in very shaky hands but made no attempt to point it at her.
Dropping the old lady into the chair beside him, Luke allowed the rifle to point toward Nathalie.
“That’s two guns to one,” he gloated. “Now what the fuck are you going to do?”
Stepping between the two men and Josh, so that her body shielded him, Nathalie pointed her gun directly at the older man’s chest. “I’m going to arrest you. Straight after you put those weapons on the ground,” she replied calmly.
Indecision replaced arrogance in the older man’s eyes while the younger man just looked scared.
Still Nathalie kept moving slowly toward them.
“I’ll blow your fucking head off if you keep coming,” Luke threatened, pointing the gun directly at her head. “I swear I will.”
“But I don’t care, Luke,” she said quietly, ensuring he was aware she knew his name. “And my Glock has a hair trigger, so the moment I’m hit, you’re dead.”
“Fuck, Luke, she’s…she’s nuts,” stuttered the young man, dropping Josh’s gun, raising his hands and staring at his companion. “Just…just do what she says.”
The gunman wanted desperately to see a hint of fear or doubt in the police officer’s gray eyes, but instead he saw a challenge—an invitation to shoot—and his resolve crumbled.
Putting his left hand in the air, he pointed the rifle upward, opening his hand and dangling it from the trigger guard. For a fleeting moment he thought he saw disappointment cross the woman’s face.
Stumbling to his feet, Josh moved around Nathalie and carefully took the rifle from the shaking man’s hand. Then he bent down and retrieved his own gun.
The whole incident seemed to take only a couple of minutes, but within moments other police arrived. As they removed the two men and tended the elderly woman, Nathalie helped Josh to a seat. “Are you all right?” she asked worriedly. “You’re going to have one hell of a bruise on your face.”
“It’s my ribs that are killing me,” he stated between gritted teeth. “The bastard took me by surprise and that pisses me off.” Speaking quietly, he said, “What the fuck do you think you were doing?”
“Letting the good guys win for a change?” she said with a shrug.
“You could have been killed.”
Again she shrugged.
“They hit me, you pointed your gun and they gave up their weapons. That’s our story. Anything else and you’re going to be spending the next six months having psych assessments,” he whispered angrily.
Within minutes an ambulance crew had arrived, followed by senior police. Both Josh and the elderly resident had been transported to hospital and Nathalie had been driven back to the local police station.
Apparently the burglars had broken into the house thinking it was the home of a small-time drug dealer, which was why they were so heavily armed. The old lady had been in the back room and heard them moving around. That was when she’d phoned the police on her extension. Unlike the front of the house, the back room had been locked up like Fort Knox, so when Josh and Nathalie arrived the men had been unable to flee.
Josh had a bruised chest and ribs but no serious injury to his face, and the homeowner was treated for shock. Senior detectives spoke to Josh and Nathalie at length, took statements and then allowed them to return to their own office.
“I’ll drive you home,” Nathalie said as they left the area. “I’ve spoken to Grace at work and told her you were okay. She’s going to meet you at your place.”
“I could have got us all killed,” he muttered angrily as they pulled up near the flat. “A fucking rookie wouldn’t have stepped into that back room less cautiously than I did…and then to fall for the decoy trick. Shit.”
“That’s bull
shit, Josh,” she said gently. “I would have done the same thing. Neither of us expected to be ambushed. And no one got hurt.”
By now they were heading toward his front door, which had swung open. In an instant Grace was in his arms.
“I’m okay,” he assured her with a feeble smile as she clung to him—hurting his ribs even more.
“Oh well, that’s okay then,” she said, moving back into the flat angrily. “In that case I won’t ever worry about you again.”
Laughing, Josh said, “Hey, don’t be mad. I wasn’t in any danger. I had Nathalie watching my back. It was all over in seconds, honestly.”
Then she was back in his arms, gently touching his face where a huge welt was beginning to swell. Then she was crushing Nathalie to her, thanking her and pulling them both into the flat. “Oh God,” she said, wiping at stray tears. “I think I’d die if anything happened to you now, you stupid man.”
“Then there’s nothing for it,” he said, a huge smile lighting his face. “I guess I’m just going to have to marry you.”
Declining their invitation to stay, Nathalie returned to the office. It was way past the end of shift and she felt exhausted.
Later, over dinner, Josh and Grace talked. “I’m really worried about Nathalie,” he said, looking up from his plate.
“Because of what happened this afternoon?”
“Not because of the incident,” he replied, shaking his head. “She’s a police officer and it goes with the job—even though you never expect it to happen to you. It’s more than that, it’s…” For a moment he lapsed into silence, trying to translate a feeling into words. “It’s just that…well, if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she actually wanted that piece of filth to shoot her.”
“Why on earth would you think that?” she replied gently.
“She told him she didn’t care when he said he’d blow her head off. The gun was pointing right at her and she said she didn’t care.”
“But surely she was just bluffing, trying to protect you and the woman…trying to do her job.”
“You had to be there, darling,” he stated carefully. “It was as if she was inviting him to shoot, and both of those men believed she meant it.”
“But surely if he’d shot her, that would have left you unprotected. Surely she wouldn’t have risked other people’s lives…and why would she do that anyway?”
“No. She knew she’d get off a shot and take out the guy with the gun, even if he did fire. The other guy had put my gun down and backed off and he was too rattled to react anyway. She knew that she and the gunman were the only ones in danger.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” she answered, frightened at the implication. “Why would Nathalie want to die?”
“I can’t answer that,” he replied, putting down his cutlery and rubbing his swollen face. “Something terrible is happening with her right now, but she won’t say what. I told you about the cock-and-bull story she gave me about calling it off with Alex, but it’s far more than that. The life has gone out of her, it’s like this empty shell is walking around pretending to be Nathalie Duncan…and I can’t get through.”
* * *
Friday and Saturday were late shifts and once again Nathalie was partnered with Lorna. Naturally, the conversation in the office at the start of shift was about yesterday’s incident, but Josh played it down, forcing them to focus on their tasks. Barely able to move because of the rib injuries, he was on restricted duties for a few days, remaining in the office and directing the shift from there.
Before Nathalie went out, Josh took her aside. “We have to talk,” he said quietly. “About yesterday and about what’s going on with you. It’s not a request. If you don’t do this, I’ll have you removed from the task force. I’m worried about you. You can come back to the office early and we’ll talk then,” he said firmly. “I’m serious, Nat.”
“I’m sure you are,” she snapped, walking away from him.
The clubs were particularly busy when they got there, but they made a breakthrough when a woman and her friend thought they might have seen the mystery woman.
“Do you know who she is?” Nathalie had asked eagerly.
“Said her name was Catherine, I think, but I didn’t get a surname. But among other things she was complaining about her job, so I told her they were hiring at the hotel where I work. I don’t know if she ever applied.”
Taking her details, including her workplace address and phone number, Nathalie thanked the woman and returned to Lorna. It was more than they got for the rest of the evening.
Returning early, as instructed, Nat told Josh about her information. Josh decided to make inquiries at the hotel the next working day. Closing the office door and shuffling slowly toward the seat at his desk, he said, “Okay, Nathalie, I can make this official if you want, but I’d rather it didn’t have to be. You deliberately put yourself in danger yesterday, and I want to know why.”
“I was just doing my job,” she stated. “Nobody got hurt. It was by the book.”
“And telling him to go ahead and shoot you—was that by the book as well?”
“You must have misheard,” she replied irritably. “You’d been hit around the head, remember.”
“I don’t want a suicidal member on my team,” he said gently, “because sometimes it’s only fear that keeps us alert out there. If you don’t care, you’ll be careless and just maybe it won’t be you in the firing line next time.”
“Are you sacking me from the team?” It was asked with no hint of emotion.
“I should be referring you to the Police Medical Officer for assessment,” he said. “But, damn you, Nat, if I do that, your career will be shot, and you were prepared to protect me with your life. It’s just that I’m so scared for you.”
“Well, don’t be,” she responded dully. “Only the good die young.”
People were starting to drift into the outer office and the conversation was getting Josh nowhere. “Please talk to someone, Nat,” he begged. “If you don’t trust me, then find someone you do—even a psych. Whatever’s eating you up has to be dealt with or it will destroy you.”
“Thanks for the advice,” she replied, standing up. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got some paperwork to finish.”
* * *
It had been a hectic day at work and busy at the center and Alex was grateful to be home. Every day was a struggle, and she wondered if it might be an idea to take some long overdue leave.
It took a minute for the mess in her lounge room to register, and when it did, she just stood and stared. It never entered her head until much later that the intruders might still be in the house.
Every cupboard and drawer had been opened and the contents thrown onto the floors, cushions had been pulled from the lounge suite and the bedding from the beds. Even pictures hanging on walls had been moved. Every room was the same, even the bathrooms. It was a total mess. Yet only the laptop, jewelry and the DVD player appeared to be missing.
She phoned the police.
Pushing one of the cushions back onto a chair and dropping into it, Alex looked around. The sanctity of her home had been violated and with it her sense of safety. All of a sudden the last couple of weeks caught up with her and the tears began to flow, followed by heart-wrenching sobs that left her head aching and her chest heaving.
An hour later, when the police still hadn’t arrived and she was feeling calmer, she rang Michael and James. The boys came immediately, busying themselves making coffee and taking it in turns to keep Alex’s mind occupied. Finally the police arrived, took details and told her that the fingerprint unit would be out in the morning.
“Well, you can’t stay here,” they told her when the police finally left. “But we can take time off tomorrow and come back with you to clean up.”
That night, after a hot bath, warm meal and sleeping tablet, Alex finally fell asleep.
“Cocksuckers,” James spat as he helped wash up their dinner dis
hes. “I’d love to get my hands on whoever did this. It’s all she needs right now, some prick trashing her house.”
“It was trashed, wasn’t it?” said Michael thoughtfully. “It was as if they were looking for something, rather than just robbing the place. Who turns coffee tables upside down and moves heavy furniture when they’re robbing a house, for Christ sake? Or empties out kitchen cupboards? What would they possibly expect to find?”
“What are you getting at?” James asked quietly. “Do you think it might have been personal?”
Tiny suspicions were forming in Michael’s mind, but he couldn’t say anything to James. Tomorrow, he’d talk to Alex and find out if she kept anything of value in the house. It would surprise him if she did, but he needed to know.
* * *
It took most of the day to clean up after fingerprints had been taken, and Alex was even more subdued than usual. Several times, Michael noticed her wiping away tears and his anger grew by the minute. Alex had not been able to think of anything she had in the house that would interest burglars and certainly nothing she’d be likely to keep under coffee tables or in crockery cupboards. It left them all puzzled.
They didn’t want to leave her alone, but Alex was starting to get angry at her own helplessness. “It’s as if some unseen force is playing with my life,” she’d explained when the boys had tried to get her to stay at their place again. “I’ve let losing Nathalie make me feel miserable and hopeless, and now this burglary has almost succeeded in driving me from my home. I’ve got to take a stand somewhere. Who knows, I might even find the courage to try and find out what really happened with Nat.”
* * *
Although Nathalie was dreading seeing Mother again on Sunday, she was looking forward to seeing Jeremy and Samantha. Last night’s nightmare had been particularly ugly, with images of children being buried alive in lonely graves. It had woken her at four in the morning. At daylight she’d opened all the curtains, flooded the room with light and snatched another three hours sleep on the lounge.
