Tooth and Claw

by Oliver Davies

  “The Clark Kent look? Yeah, that could work.” He looked at me while nodding seriously.

  “Aye, I’ve got the Superman physique, right? The jawline?” I chuckled, and Stephen blew out a breath of amusement.

  “Sure, mate. Whatever you say.”

  I shook my head at him and turned back to my computer, refreshing my emails and fighting disappointment when there was still nothing new from LACS.

  “Alright, let’s start planning for this thing,” I said, getting us back on track.

  “What do you want me doing, boss?”

  “I need more research done into dogfighting. I’ve done the basics, but I can’t afford to look like a newbie. I need slang terms they might use, techniques, the set-up for a dogfight, all of that.”

  “Okay, I can do that. Draw up a dossier for you to read. But you know what you should do?”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him. “What’s that?”

  “Go and do some extra self-defence lessons. I know Sam’s got you doing one a week, but you should do a couple of extra, one-to-one. If things go to hell, I’d feel better if you knew how to defend yourself, y’know?”

  I stopped myself from pointing out that self-defence was mostly for fending off one attacker long enough to run away, not for dealing with dozens of violent adversaries who’d have fighting dogs, not to mention very possibly being armed with guns and knives. Stephen knew that without me needing to say it, so I just nodded. If there did happen to be a confrontation between me and one other, then doing the self-defence classes would help. And even if they did nothing but put Stephen and Sam’s minds slightly more at ease, they would’ve been worth doing.

  “I have a class tomorrow evening, so I’ll ask the instructor then,” I promised him.

  The day passed slowly as Stephen did the research I’d asked him to whilst I caught up on some other cases that Rashford had asked me to work on. The dogfighting case, whilst important and formally given to Stephen and me by Rashford, wasn’t technically big enough to use up all of our time. So there were still a number of more run-of-the-mill crimes I was dealing with too. Those hadn’t captured my curiosity and attention as much as the dogfighting one, but I still owed it to the victims of those petty thefts and low-key assault victims to give them their due diligence.

  I got out on a good, long run that evening after work and collapsed gratefully onto the sofa in front of the tablet and holding a glass of wine. I’d already loaded my tablet up and was waiting on a call from Sam when she was ready. Though I tried not to let myself think about it too frequently, I still missed her badly and hearing her voice was just what I needed.

  Her call popped up ten minutes later, and I switched off the TV and accepted it, smiling immediately when her face appeared on the screen. She looked tired, shadows under her usually bright eyes and her blond hair pulled up in a messy bun, but she smiled to see me.

  “Hey, love,” she said, sitting down with a sigh.

  She set up her tablet so that I could see her properly and then picked up a mug of tea, cradling it in her hands. Her nails were painted a dark blue but were chipped around the edges.

  “Hey you,” I smiled. “How’s it been going?”

  I relaxed into conversation with her, even as her replies came slower than usual, and she wasn’t her usual bubbly self.

  “I don’t like you doing this undercover thing,” she said, not for the first time. “I’m glad Stephen’s poked you into more self-defence but still… it’s dangerous.”

  “I know. We’ll all try to mitigate the risks as much as possible beforehand, and I’ll be careful.”

  “You’re never careful,” she sighed, but it was more fond exasperation than anger.

  “Is there something else worrying you? You don’t seem yourself. Can I do anything?” I asked carefully.

  “I’m alright,” she said, a little stiffly.

  She’d been like this recently, clamming up when I tried to talk to her. When we’d been together in person, she’d very rarely done this, normally telling me when something was wrong once I’d asked. I wasn’t sure how to get her to tell me because I knew something was up, and it was worrying me that she wouldn’t confide in me.

  “You know you can talk to me, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll listen,” I tried gently.

  I was a detective, so of course, I’d considered a hundred and one reasons why she might have shut down our communication, even as I sometimes wished that my brain didn’t work that way. Maybe she was sick, maybe she’d become interested in someone else, maybe someone was hassling her, and she wanted to deal with it herself. The possibilities were endless, but the only way I’d find out and be able to work through whatever the problem was if she told me.

  “Sam?” I prompted when she was quiet, her head turned away from the screen.

  Her hands were tight around her mug as she silently took a sip, and my heart jumped into my throat when I saw that her eyes were wet. Even on the video, which wasn’t the best of quality, I could see how upset she was.

  “Hey, talk to me. Whatever it is, anything at all, you can tell me. I can take it, I promise.”

  She blew out a shaky laugh that was clearly more nervous than anything else and stared down at her cup of tea.

  “I didn’t really expect you to stick around through all this,” she said quietly. I swallowed thickly and hoped this wasn’t going where I thought it might. She must have caught something in my expression, though, because her eyes widened, and she quickly held up a hand in denial. “Not that I didn’t want you to, Darren! I’m- I’m- I feel so blessed that you’ve stayed with me, you know that, don’t you?”

  I smiled despite the lump in my throat. “I do now,” I joked weakly, and she gave me a slight smile in return.

  “I’m really happy you have, love,” she repeated. “I really thought that I’d be staying here permanently and that eventually you’d get fed up with the long-distance.”

  I paused before responding, trying to pick the meaning out of that.

  “Do you mean… you might not be staying in Kent?” I asked hesitantly, before hurriedly adding, “It’s okay if you are, though, I’m just-”

  “No, that’s what I meant,” she said before reaching up to tuck a stray strand of her hair back in a nervous movement. “Wow, it feels so much more real now I’ve said it to you. I haven’t told work yet, but…” She trailed off, and I looked at her wide-eyed, my heart thumping.

  If she was thinking of telling work that she was planning to leave Kent, that meant she was pretty much resolved in her decision. I’d been able to tell for a long while that she didn’t seem as happy as I’d hoped she would be, but it’d clearly been more serious than I’d realised.

  “You’re coming back?” I asked carefully, both fearing and anticipating her response. This certainly wasn’t what I’d been expecting to talk to her about this evening, but I couldn’t say I was sorry if she really was going to be returning to York.

  “I mean, if you’ll have me,” she said with a quiet laugh, though she watched closely for my response.

  I let the grin I’d been holding back split my face. The prospect of being together again full time was enough to make me want to jump into the air with excitement and, honestly, relief. I’d missed her so badly, and time hadn’t softened the pain. If I had any doubt before she’d left about how committed I was to mine and her relationship, it’d been completely banished.

  “Of course I’ll have you. God, I’ve missed you,” I said, still grinning.

  She matched my broad smile, and it was the happiest I’d seen her in too long.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “I hate to ask, but what went wrong?” I asked gently, my expression returning to solemnity.

  She sighed heavily. “It’s been a bunch of things, I guess. I thought I could handle it.”

  “You could’ve told me.”

  “I know, but I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted to do this by myself, prove to myself that I ca
n.”

  “Of course, you can do it, but you shouldn’t make yourself unhappy doing it.”

  She sent me a smile. “I know, Darren. That’s why I’m coming home. I don’t get on with my colleagues too well here, not like I did at Hewford, and the work isn’t as varied. And I miss York, and you, of course.”

  “Of course,” I teased.

  She rolled her eyes at me before going on. “I didn’t want to tell you until I’d contacted Hewford to ask if they’d take me back.”

  “And?”

  “And they said they would.”

  I whooped out loud, and Sam started laughing. The air between us was lighter as we continued to talk, and I was buzzing with excitement. Whatever happened with this case, at least I had Sam’s return to look forward to, though it wouldn’t be for a little while yet.

  “So you better be careful on this undercover case of yours,” she told me later on. “You need to be there for me to come home to, okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  I had every intention of making sure this operation went exactly to plan, but there was definitely no better incentive than Sam’s return. Only time would tell how it’d all turn out, but my hopes were high.

  Twenty-Two

  My mobile started ringing shrilly, and I hissed out a breath between my teeth, pausing the video I’d been watching. As preparation for the dogfight I was going to be attending, I’d been forcing myself to watch some of the police footage of previous fights. The videos were truly sickening, but whilst the phone call gave me a welcome excuse for a break, I mostly just wanted to get the videos watched and done with.

  “DCI Mitchell speaking,” I said curtly.

  Stephen was sitting next to me, and he lifted an eyebrow at my tone. I rolled my eyes at him and turned away.

  “Uh, Darren?” a tentative male voice said. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

  “Who is this, please?” I asked, making sure I sounded more polite this time.

  “It’s, uh, Brian. From the gym?” He sounded slightly breathless, and I wondered whether he was out walking or if he’d just got back from a run.

  I blinked in surprise. “Brian, oh right. Hi, what can I do for you?” I remembered a beat later why I’d given him my work number in the first place and hurriedly added, “Are you in trouble?”

  “You could say that,” he said tightly before giving a nervous laugh.

  “Tell me what’s happening,” I instructed.

  I glanced at the clock on my computer and saw that it was nearly five o’clock. It was certainly dark outside, and I frowned in concern.

  “My dog- They grabbed my dog, and I tried- They’re coming after me-” He broke off, swearing quietly, and for a moment, I could only hear his breathing.

  “Where are you?” I asked urgently, putting him on speakerphone and waving my hand at Stephen to get his attention. “Brian, talk to me.”

  He managed to give a rough description of his whereabouts as Stephen and I were already getting to our feet and going downstairs. I covered the microphone of my phone to talk to Stephen.

  “Put it out on the radio, in case there’s someone nearer,” I told him, and he gave a quick nod. He might argue with me about cases, but when push came to shove and time was of the essence, he followed instructions quickly and precisely.

  I returned to the call with Brian, instructing him to keep us updated on where he was and what was happening. My mind jumped to a similar situation to this that I’d been in not long after starting the Hewford job, when my girlfriend at the time had been followed by some creep through the dark streets of York. I didn’t know Brian well, but I didn’t want him hurt, and last time this had happened, it’d been too damn close.

  Stephen and I jogged over to the car, and he drove, flicking on the sirens immediately and tearing out of the station’s car park. This was one time when I certainly wouldn’t be complaining about Stephen’s race car driving, though I did hold on to the handle above the window for support.

  “How many are following you, can you see?” I pressed Brian for details, trying to keep him talking and on the line. I didn’t know why he’d been talking about his dog earlier, but I couldn’t help but think that it was a strange coincidence. Right now, though, my concern was for Brian’s safety because he’d clearly gotten on the wrong side of someone, and they were now following him.

  “Two, I think? Maybe three.”

  I cursed silently. Stephen and I would be outnumbered if that was the case.

  “Do you recognise them?”

  “It’s dark. I don’t think so.”

  “What do they look like?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t see.”

  I was about to push it when I heard Brian’s breath hitch. Stephen was driving as fast as he could in city traffic, especially near rush hour, and we were nearly there.

  “What’s happening? Where are you?” I said, but I could only hear Brian’s accelerated breathing, and he didn’t speak.

  Maybe he was running and too out of breath to speak, or he was hiding and couldn’t talk right now. I chewed my lip anxiously and, when Stephen pulled the car over onto the curb, I scrambled out of the car and set off at a jog.

  “Darren!” Stephen snapped, and I made myself slow down.

  He shot me a glare, and I pulled an apologetic expression. He’d made it clear repeatedly that he hated it when I went dashing off and he couldn’t follow, so I made sure to stay with him this time, as much as I wanted to sprint forwards. There was no point in me finding Brian first if I couldn’t stop those men who’d been following him from hurting him, and three against one wasn’t good odds. Definitely better to have the big, bulky Stephen with me so he could look scary and do his rugby tackles.

  “They’re close. I tried to hide, but-” Brian swore again, spitting the word out between his teeth.

  “Where are you?” I asked quietly, not wanting to reveal his location if he was still hiding and his stalkers were within hearing range.

  “Round the side of the pub, the Golden Goose. Near the bins,” he whispered back. “They stink,” he added before huffing out a breath of laughter that sounded halfway to a sob. He was clearly terrified, and my heart hurt for him.

  Stephen and I hurried over towards the pub, dodging around curious-looking tourists and evening shoppers who moved too sluggishly out of our way. There weren’t too many around out in this cold weather now that it was dark, and we made good progress. Stephen talked into his radio as we went, keeping them up to date on where they needed to go. We were going to need back-up on this, most likely.

  We jogged around the corner by the pub and caught sight of three guys laying into a smaller one, thrashing around on the ground.

  I cursed, Stephen and I both sprinting forwards to help.

  “Police! Get back!” Stephen yelled, his voice deep and threatening enough to make the men twist around.

  “Oh, Christ,” I muttered, slowing my pace and twisting my head to the side. I’d been running ahead of Stephen, and he nearly ran into the back of me.

  “Mitch?” he snapped, confused and annoyed at once.

  “I know him! Go, you go first. Help Brian!”

  It wasn’t like me to back off from the action, and Stephen shot me a baffled look that said he hadn’t really understood my ramblings. But he went on ahead like I’d said, and I followed behind him, keeping my head down. The other officers were due to arrive any second to help out, so we just had to keep these blokes off Brian in the meantime.

  “You little snitch,” I heard one of them hiss.

  It wasn’t the one I’d recognised who landed one more kick to Brian’s ribs as we approached before he ran off. Even in the dim light, I’d seen the scruffy beard on his narrow face and the flash of a gold earring in his ear and knew who it was: one of Phil’s friends from the bar. I couldn’t afford to let him see my face and report it back to Phil, but luckily for me, he was already doing a runner, as were the other two.
>
  I reluctantly let the one I recognised go, not wanting to get up close and personal with him, but I wasn’t going to let the other two off without at least trying to grab them. I went for the smaller, faster one, and Stephen jumped the bulkier guy, ramming into him from the side and bringing him down hard.

  I had to chase mine for a few taut seconds before I snagged the back of his hood and wrenched him back, pulling him down with one of the moves I’d learnt in self-defence and cuffing him quickly. I heard police sirens approaching and hurried back towards Brian, dragging my perp behind me. We’d left Brian alone in the rush of the moment, and I regretted that as soon as I saw him trying and failing to stand. There was a yellow security light around the back of the pub, and Brian’s face looked sickly in the off-colour glow, the blood dripping from his nose almost black.

  Stephen came over to me, taking the guy I’d grabbed off my hands so that I could check on Brian.

  “I’ve called in an ambulance,” he told me, and I nodded in thanks, moving over to Brian’s side.

  “Hey, it’s Darren, you’re alright, you’re safe,” I rambled as I approached the injured man, trying not to spook him. He looked up sharply, like he hadn’t seen me coming before he managed to summon a smile that looked more like a grimace.

  “Thanks for the help,” he said, his voice a croak.

  “Sorry, we weren’t faster. What happened?”

  His expression crumpled at the question, and he shook his head sharply, clearly trying to get himself together.

  “They took my dog. I was just in the shop.” His voice hiccuped, and he turned away from me, dragging his sleeve over his eyes. I frowned in worry, hoping that the ambulance would hurry up and arrive to take care of him.

  “We’ll do our best to get it back,” I said gently.

  I reached out to him, and he sagged against my side when I wrapped an arm around his back, taking some of his weight. He was limping off his right leg, and I looked down at it in concern.

  “C’mon, you need medical care,” I urged him.