Tallowwood

by N. R. Walker

  August could hear the hum of her voice but not the words, but Jacob’s . . . sorry, Jake’s frown told him it wasn’t good. “Is it official? . . . We saw him, sorry, Detective Shaw and I saw him at approximately 1500 hours, just as the storm hit. He was waiting for us to leave so he could lock the gate, and he said he had to stay there until five. We gave him a bag of bread rolls to eat because it was cold and pissing rain.”

  Wait, what? They’d given a bag of bread to Constable McNeill who’d been left in charge of locking the gate at the national park where the two bodies were found. Was what official?

  “Yes, tell Hirsch that. Or I can call him if he wants an official statement. . . . Yeah. Okay, thanks for letting me know. Keep me posted.”

  He clicked off the call, his expression serious. “Constable McNeill is missing. His girlfriend called the station yesterday saying he didn’t come home the night before last. No one’s heard from him or seen him.”

  “The night before last?”

  “Yeah. Yesterday was his rostered day off. He wasn’t expected for duty until this morning, and he was a no-show. Not going home after work was out of character, but not going to work or even phoning in, that’s a red flag right there. It’s close enough to forty-hours. They’ve called it. He’s officially missing.”

  “Fuck.”

  “We saw him when we left the park. He was locking that gate in the pouring rain, remember?”

  August nodded. “Yeah. We gave him the bread.”

  “Yep.” Jake frowned. “We could have been the last people to see him. I need to call Hirsch.”

  “Good idea,” August said. “I’ll go shower.”

  He left Jacob to make the phone call in private and took a quick shower. McNeill was missing. He was just a kid, looked barely older than twenty. And if his disappearance was linked to their other cases, more than likely the culprit had to be someone local. Or someone visiting. Or someone watching the police activity, waiting for the last car to leave the park that day, waiting for McNeill to be alone.

  There was also the chance that his disappearance had nothing at all to do with their cases. Although August didn’t like the odds on that. He was far too cynical, and twenty-three years as a cop taught him that coincidences were rarely that.

  When he went back out, Jake was on the couch, turning his phone in his hand as he stared out the window at another cold winter day. “What did he say?” August prompted.

  “Oh, uh.” Jake shook his head a little, snapping himself free of whatever mind trap he was in. “Not much more than Deans. I told Hirsch we spoke to McNeill and he confirmed he was leaving at five. I said we didn’t see him leave. He was in a cop car, and they’re trackable. They’re running a trace now.”

  “Christ.”

  “I told Hirsch you can verify everything I told him.”

  “Yeah, of course.” August hated seeing him so sullen. “You okay, Jake?”

  He almost smiled at August calling him that. “Yeah. It’s just . . . it’s not going to be just a coincidence, is it?”

  August frowned. “Not likely to be, no.”

  His gaze met August’s. “Well, if it is our guy and he’s killing cops now, he’s getting desperate. But McNeill’s as straight as straight gets. He doesn’t fit the MO at all. So maybe it’s not our guy.”

  August gave a nod. “Possible. Though he has changed before. Maybe this is another change of direction. Maybe it was a crime of opportunity rather than planning. Maybe McNeill saw something. I don’t know. Maybe he’ll turn up after getting absolutely shit-faced somewhere, totally embarrassed and will end up doing desk duty until he retires.”

  “God I hope so.”

  “Me too.” August tried to smile for him. “Go and have a shower and I’ll rustle up something for breakfast.”

  Jake disappeared and August set about making fresh coffee and scrambled eggs on toast. He was just about done when his phone rang. Caller ID told him it was Nina.

  “Hello, Nina,” he said.

  “August.” She sounded a little curt and distracted.

  “I take it you’ve heard about McNeill.”

  “What?”

  “McNeill. The constable from Coffs Harbour who’s missing.”

  She snapped at someone, probably some poor intern. “Of course I’ve heard about it. Every cop in the district is searching for him. How’d you hear about it? I thought you went home.”

  “I did. I’m in Sydney with Jake—Jacob Porter. He’s helping me with some case details. Our cases are linked . . .”

  “That’s what I’m calling about.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I just got notified that six of my cases are being reviewed.”

  Shit. So much for keeping her out of it. “And?”

  “And how does that make me look, August? Jesus.”

  “You should want them reviewed, Nina.”

  “I didn’t miss anything.”

  “You didn’t miss anything because you didn’t know what to look for. Now we have something else to focus on. A possible tracer. Isn’t it worth another look?”

  “And what’s so significant about phenylacetic acid and amine tryptamine?”

  Wait a second. Nina knew what two elements the evidence request was looking for . . . “How do you know what they’re looking for?”

  “Bartlett told me.”

  “Bartlett? How the hell is he involved in this? I requested a different lab. No offence, but I needed fresh eyes on this.”

  “What is looking for acid metabolites of the trace amines going to tell you?” She paused. “And who the hell told you to look for it?”

  “Come on, Nina. You know I can’t tell you that.” He sighed. “All I’m saying is this untraceable drug isn’t so untraceable. And believe me when I say this, if it’s what I think it could be, it’s not good. Actually, it’s about as bad as it gets.”

  She sighed. “August . . .”

  “You asked me to find you the missing piece of evidence that prove these were homicides, so that’s what I did.”

  Nina didn’t reply to that, but it was probably just as well because Jake walked back out, freshly showered and wearing his uniform. He was carrying his boots and coat and dumped them onto the couch. “Uh, Nina,” August said. “I have to go.”

  “Yes, okay. August . . .” She paused, hesitant and wary. “What are the chances of you letting this go?”

  August stopped, and he frowned at her tone. “Absolutely nil.”

  The call disconnected, and Jake was staring at him. “Well, that’s not your happy face.”

  August shook his head. “No, no it’s not.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jake didn’t like the hard set of August’s eyes. Something was wrong. “You said Nina?”

  August nodded. “She knows something.”

  “Like what?”

  “She knew we’d put in an evidence review request and what we’re looking for.”

  Jake couldn’t hide his surprise. “What? How?”

  “She said Bartlett told her.”

  “Bartlett?”

  August shrugged. “He’s the director. He must have seen the overview.” He dished up the scrambled egg onto buttered toast and handed over a fresh cup of coffee. “I don’t know, but something about Nina . . . she sounded off. She did say every cop’s out looking for McNeill, so that’s something.”

  “Good. I hope they find him.”

  “Alive.”

  “Yeah. Alive and well.”

  Jake blew out a low breath. “I kinda feel hopeless being this far away.”

  August’s face softened. “I know. It’s not easy, but they have everyone up there looking and doing all they can. If we can find some missing information or a new lead, then we’re helping.”

  Jake nodded. August was right. Didn’t make it any easier though. Trying to shift mental gears, he took a mouthful of egg. “Mmm, this is good.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  Jake smiled
as he ate another bite. “Hardly. I think I’m out of surprises when it comes to you.”

  Watching August Shaw blush and cringe over compliments was endearing, and a little sad that compliments were so foreign to him. But he smiled in a way Jake was sure he hadn’t smiled in a long time, and that was worth so much more.

  “So,” Jake went on. “What’s on our agenda this morning?”

  “Anything you need to do?”

  Jake smirked. “I can think of a few things. But I meant about the case.”

  August’s blush deepened, which he tried to hide behind his coffee cup. “I need to make some follow-up calls and see if I can hurry some things along. The missing persons reports search should have something by now.”

  “Are we heading back into HQ?”

  “I’d rather not. We have the case files and I have remote access to my desk computer from my laptop if I have to.”

  “So, I could get changed out of this uniform . . . ,” Jake said, half joking.

  “Or you could leave it on,” August replied, then blushed again.

  Jake barked out a laugh, his eyes wide. “Oh, you do like it? I thought I caught you eyeing me up the other day.”

  August rolled his eyes. “Shut up. You know how well you fill out that shirt. And the pants. Don’t even act like you don’t know.”

  Jake grinned. “And the pants too?”

  August cleared his throat. “Is that what I said? I can’t remember . . .”

  Jake laughed as he took his plate to the sink. “I definitely recall you saying that, yeah.” He stepped in close, much closer than he needed to, and leaned around August to collect his empty plate. “Is there a particular angle you like? Front, or back?”

  August grumbled something inaudible, though his cheeks were still a flushed pink. Jake leaned against the counter facing him and crossed his arms. Which might have possibly flexed his biceps a little.

  “You know,” Jake murmured, checking his watch. “We don’t technically start work for another thirty minutes.”

  “Is that so?” August whispered. He seemed to be having a little difficulty in making eye contact.

  So of course, Jake pushed off from the counter and stepped in front of August. His feet on the outside of August’s, their fronts almost touching, Jake put his palms to August’s cheeks, ran them down his neck to his chest. “Thirty minutes is a long time,” Jake breathed. “I could go to my knees right now . . .”

  August’s breath hitched, and when Jake began to slowly undo his belt, August never stopped him. Jake kept their gazes locked as he unhurriedly went to his knees, and August groaned. But he was more than willing when Jake took him into his mouth.

  And when he was done and Jake stood, very pleased with himself, August hurried to return the favour. “You don’t have to,” Jake said. “I don’t expect anything in return.”

  “I want to,” August said quickly. “Though it’s been a long time since . . . I might need some practice.”

  Twenty-two minutes later, they fell onto the couch, all chuckles and sated smiles, and mostly ready to begin their work day. Jake could also happily confirm that August remembered just fine, better than fine, like holy shit fine, though if he wanted to keep practising, Jake wouldn’t say no.

  For the next hour, while August waited for people to call him back, they cross-referenced each case to the officers listed in the reports. August had already done this, but now they suspected a cop might have had access to or stolen the P7849, they needed to check just how far and wide the ripples in the corruption pond might have spread. But it wasn’t just cops who had access to the evidence stores. When the evidence location was changed, specialised contracted movers were hired. The highly classified security checks notwithstanding, it widened the search exponentially. There were also clerks, lawyers, cleaning staff, maintenance staff, even the company and contractors for the state-of-the-art ventilation system.

  Their search didn’t just widen, it became a lot of ripples in a lot of different ponds.

  Jake’s phone vibrated on the coffee table and Mum appeared on the screen. Jake hit the Answer button, then speaker phone. “Hey, Mum. Everything okay?”

  “Oh, yes, love. Where are you?”

  “In Sydney still.” He frowned at August. “Why?”

  “Oh thank goodness. I was worried.”

  “Mum, what’s going on?”

  “There’s been a lot of cop cars going through town. And I mean a lot, Jake. All headed up toward the reserve, I think. They’ve been flying through town like something’s wrong, love. I was worried about you, that’s all.”

  Jake had a sinking feeling in his gut. “I’m fine, Mum.” Another incoming call showed on-screen. This time it was Deans. “Mum, I have to go. I’ll call soon.” He pressed End Call and then answered Deans’ call; he put her on loudspeaker. He didn’t even bother with niceties. “Please tell me it’s good news.”

  “They found his body, Jake,” Deans said, her voice quiet.

  “Fuck.”

  August’s face fell and he closed his eyes.

  Jake felt as if his heart was made of lead. “Where was he?”

  “You know where they found the other two bodies?” Deans replied.

  August’s face shot up, his gaze intense.

  “Yeah.”

  “Further up the track, near the dam.”

  Well, that didn’t make any sense . . . “But he was locking the gate when we left. His patrol car was on the outside of the gate. He was supposed to wait on the outside of the park to make sure no one got curious.”

  “Yeah, Jake?” Her tone told Jake he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. “It was self-inflicted and there was a note,” she whispered, and Jake could feel the blood drain from his face because he knew what was coming next . . . “And he had a silver cross.”

  August shot to his feet, his expression grim and wild. He began to pace while Jake couldn’t even get his thoughts in order.

  “Hirsch said you need to come back right now,” Deans went on. “It’s a madhouse up here, Jake.”

  His mind was still spinning. “Uh, yeah. Okay, of course. I’ll be on the next flight.”

  “I’ll book it for you and email the details. Just get your arse to the airport.”

  “Thanks, Deans.”

  Jake disconnected the call and August stared at him, still looking grim and wild, but now he looked pissed off too. “He killed a cop. He’s just killed a fucking cop.” He pulled at his hair. “McNeill was just a kid. He was just a goddamn kid who was just happy to eat some fresh baked bread. Christ. Do you know what this means?”

  Jake shook his head. “What?”

  “The killer was up there. The killer was there, probably watching us while we worked those scenes and when you found the second body. Now he’s letting us know he was watching and that he’s still in charge. The body was found near the dam, where you and I went. He was watching us then.”

  Jake’s breakfast suddenly wasn’t sitting so well in his stomach.

  August went back to pacing and took his phone from his pocket, pressed the screen, and put his phone to his ear. “Detective Shaw calling for Reinhart.” Still pacing, still grim and pissed, he met Jake’s gaze. He kept his phone to his ear but spoke to Jake. “This changes everything. This isn’t good. He’s showing off or he’s pissed off or he’s getting desperate, but either way he’s escalated, and that’s not good. He killed someone else. A cop, no less. He’s teaching us a lesson. Us a lesson, because we were right there.” He stopped pacing and spoke into his phone. “Hey boss. Yeah, it’s me. . . . The cop on the Mid North Coast who was missing? Well, they just found him. . . . Yeah, supposedly self-inflicted, but I doubt it. It’s the same MO, boss. We’ve got another body in this case, and this time the victim’s a cop. I need to be there. I’m requesting permission to join Senior Constable Porter at the scene—” He listened to whatever Reinhart had to say, then scowled at his phone. “What do you mean denied?”

 
What? He wasn’t allowed? This was his freakin’ case!

  August’s gaze shot to Jake’s. Rage burned in his eyes and his jaw was clenched. His knuckles were white around the phone. “I contacted Chief Inspector McCulloch because his name came up in an evidence report as the lead detective. He’s still on active duty, so of course I called him first.” He seethed as he listened. “What exactly is the issue here? What don’t you want me to find?” He barked out a humourless laugh at whatever Reinhart replied with. “With all due respect, this is my case. And I’m starting to think I’ve been blindsided for years by the department, deliberately given dead ends and false leads so I’d do nothing but chase my goddamn tail, but he’s not just killing gay men now, he’s killing cops so you’d think someone would fucking care!” He ran his hand through his hair, frustrated and pissed off. “That’s bullshit and you know it!”

  Well, if Reinhart didn’t like the way Jake had spoken to him yesterday, he sure as hell wasn’t gonna like August swearing at him.

  August’s face was red with anger, but after Reinhart spoke next, he got real calm. And for Jake, that was scarier than someone who yelled and swore. “You know what?” August said, nice and calm, sugar-sweet and placating. “You’re absolutely right. No, I’m agreeing with you . . . one hundred per cent.” He smiled at Jake, though his jaw still ticked, and his nostrils flared. It wasn’t a happy face. “Sure thing. I’ll be back at my desk this afternoon.”

  He disconnected the call and took the deepest breath, then another.

  Jake was on his feet and went to him. He took August’s phone from him before he smashed it against a wall, and tossed it gently onto the couch. “Breaking your phone won’t fix anything.” Jake was aiming for a smile, but August couldn’t quite manage it. So, Jake put a hand around the back of August’s neck and made him look him in the eye. “Tell me what he said.”

  “McCulloch called him directly. Said I was asking questions about missing evidence, and Reinhart’s pissed because I didn’t notify him first.”

  “He denied your request to come with me,” Jake prompted.