Tooth and Claw

by Oliver Davies

  We headed up in the lift, and I leaned against the metal side, wincing slightly at the twinge in my ribs. It didn’t feel bad enough to suggest that anything was broken, which was a relief. Stephen handed me my room key, and I held the plastic tag in one hand, the flask in the other. Stephen spotted the tacky blood in my hair as we were heading towards our rooms and tried to insist on taking me to the hospital.

  “Absolutely not,” I said flatly. “It’s stopped bleeding, it’s a tiny cut, and I’m fine.”

  “You might have a concuss-”

  I gave him a weary glare. “I’m an adult. Any stupid decisions are entirely my own.”

  That was about as many words as I had left in me, and I gave Stephen a vague wave as he tried to protest further and headed towards my room. Stephen gave a put-upon sigh behind me, but he let me go.

  I barely got the hotel door locked behind me before I collapsed onto the hotel bed. Someone had tucked the sheets in tightly around the edges, and I grumbled as I had to tug them free. Curled up under the duvet with my shoes still on and the waterproof fabric of my coat crinkling under my ear, I fell asleep within moments. My last thought was that it was over, the dogs were safe, and Freddie had received his justice. I’d done my part, and it was finished now.

  That relief sent me into a sleep to rival the dead.

  Twenty-Eight

  Sam had come to visit for the weekend, and I already didn’t want to let her go. She’d brought a number of her things with her, boxes of books and summer clothes, for when she returned to York and coyly asked if she could keep them in my apartment for the time being. Having her things around made the place feel more like home again, and I was practically counting the days until she was due to move back.

  She’d headed out to the gym this morning, and I’d claimed to want a lie in when she’d tried to entice me into going. But instead of lying around in bed, I’d been up and out of the house as soon as she was gone, off to collect her surprise.

  I heard the front door open and close and grinned to myself. I couldn’t see her from where I was in the kitchen, and I waited for her to come through.

  “Darren?” she called.

  “In here!”

  As she stepped in, I gently lifted up the squirming bundle from the box he’d come in and held him in my arms, ready to meet Sam. Her eyes went comically wide as she came into the kitchen, and she dropped her gym bag to rush over.

  “Oh my god! Is that… a puppy, Darren?” She squealed in excitement, and the Staffy puppy in my arms yipped in return, wriggling in my arms. “Have you named it? Can I hold him? Her?”

  “Him,” I confirmed, passing the puppy over to her. “And the rescue centre has been calling him Chance, but we could change it if we want.” She cooed over him in delight, and my face ached with how hard I was grinning.

  I’d brought up the suggestion of us getting a dog on one of our video chats after she’d told me she was coming back to York and she’d been in love with the idea. Both of us worked long hours, but I was due some time off after all our work on the dogfighting case so I could spend some quality time with the little pup. After that, my mum and Sam’s sister had both enthusiastically volunteered to babysit the puppy in the daytime, so I knew he wouldn’t be short on love and attention.

  “I love him so much already,” Sam cooed, kissing the puppy’s head before she put him down on the floor.

  We both watched with amusement as the adorable bundle of fluff dashed around the kitchen, skidding and slipping on the tiles and yapping his excitement. I moved over to wrap an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into me, kissing me on the cheek.

  “Where did you get him from?” she asked.

  “He’s one of the puppies rescued from the dogfighters,” I told her, squeezing her shoulders in sympathy when she made a noise of concern. “They’ve been doing their best to rehome the dogs, and I thought you might like him.”

  The energetic tyke had completed his circuit of the kitchen and barked at our feet, his tail wagging furiously.

  “I do,” she chuckled. “He’s perfect.”

  “The Bully breeds get such a bad rep, but look at him!” The puppy was doing his best to be absolutely adorable and succeeding. “They struggle to get adopted from the animal sanctuaries, and well, I couldn’t just leave him there.”

  “You’re such a bleeding heart,” she said fondly.

  “That’s me. You’re lucky I didn’t come back with half the animal sanctuary,” I teased.

  “You think I would’ve complained?” She nudged me in the side, and I laughed.

  “We’re going to need a bigger place if we’re going to be filling it with dogs,” I said wryly. The puppy currently wreaking havoc about the kitchen was only small, but already he made the place feel less empty.

  Under my arm, Sam tensed a little, and I turned to her. She was looking at me with something like surprise on her face, though there was a soft look in her eyes.

  “Are you asking me to move in with you, love?” she asked quietly.

  I blinked, only then realising then what I’d said, before breaking into a smile. She returned it broadly.

  “I think we’ve worked out that we do best when we’re together,” I said, giving her a warm look before I gave her a cheeky smile. “Plus, I’m not clearing up after that little monster all on my own.”

  She laughed, lightly knocking me on the arm. “I see how it is!”

  We spent the rest of the weekend together, playing with the new pup in the apartment. He had his vaccinations from the animal charity, but it was only his first day with us, and it was fun to test out the new toys I’d bought for him. We decided that the name Chance worked for him, especially since the puppy already responded to it, barking excitedly when Sam called him and making her laugh.

  I got a call from Stephen in the afternoon and left Sam playing with Chance to pick it up.

  “How’d it go? Did she love him?” Stephen asked the minute I picked up, the excitement clear in his voice.

  He’d come with me to the PDSA kennels and had helped me pick Chance out from the others a week ago, though he’d also wanted to take home all of them. He’d been almost as eager for Sam to meet the pup as I had been and had been sending me text messages since dawn this morning, wanting to know how it was going.

  “She loved him,” I said, my voice full of the smile on my face.

  Stephen gave a whoop. “Of course she did!”

  “Couldn’t you have waited till this evening to ask?” I chuckled.

  Stephen had wrangled a promise out of me that he’d be able to come over to see Chance again once Sam had met the puppy, and he was due to come over later with his wife for a relaxed dinner and wine.

  “Nope,” he said cheerfully. He demanded details of exactly how she’d reacted, and I dutifully relayed it, making him laugh. After a few minutes, his tone grew more serious as he said, “I’m glad something good came out of it all.”

  I paused at that. “A lot of good came out of it. Justice was served, just like it should be.”

  From the hours of interviews with the men picked up during the police raid on the barn, we’d been able to track down the trafficking victims who I’d seen at that earlier fight near York. That had been the biggest victory and something I’d remember for the rest of my career, if not my life. Helping those people and all the dogs had made every moment of tension and fear I’d faced worth it.

  Still, I knew what Stephen meant. Whilst the bruises and bumps had healed up quickly after the raid, the mental side of things had taken longer.

  “Joy, then,” Stephen corrected himself. “I’m glad you got some happiness after everything that went down. You deserve that. And Sam too, obviously.” He snorted. “You two lovebirds are even worse than before she disappeared off to Kent.”

  “You know what they say about distance making the heart grow-”

  Stephen groaned. “Sickening, man, seriously,” he laughed. “If you two get any more fond of eac
h other and you’ll have literal hearts for eyes.”

  “She agreed to move in with me,” I said, unable to wait till this evening to tell him.

  “Seriously? Mitch, that’s awesome!” There was a brief silence before he hesitantly asked, “You’re not planning to move away, are you?”

  “No!” I assured him. “You know she’s coming back to Hewford. We’ll stay local. Maybe we’ll even find a house near you guys.”

  “Maybe you should,” he said brightly.

  I didn’t make any promises, but I rather liked the idea. We chatted for a while longer before it was getting towards lunchtime, and I made my excuses, keen to get back to Sam and Chance.

  She put her finger to her lips as I went into the living room, and I smiled to see Chance conked out on the rug near Sam’s feet, his tiny paws twitching in his sleep. I eased down onto the sofa beside Sam and moved close to her side. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I embraced the moment, grateful to have her back in my arms, at least for a little while.

  “How was Stephen?” she asked softly, both of us watching Chance from where we were sitting.

  “Good. I told him about moving in together.”

  She laughed quietly. “What did he think?”

  “He wants us to live close to him and Annie.”

  “Not a bad idea.” She sighed and cuddled in closer to my side. “It’ll be good to have friends nearby. We can have barbecues in the summer and share lifts to work.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Does he know about the nightmares, love?”

  I stiffened slightly before releasing a breath. “Aye. I told him after I accepted the counselling that Rashford offered after everything that happened. He supported me.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “A good friend, too,” I agreed. “I wasn’t sure about the whole therapy thing, but it seems to be helping. I might continue after the free sessions from work run out.”

  “Yeah?” Sam tilted her head to look at me and smiled, reaching out to brush one of my unruly curls off my forehead. “Good. I just want you happy.”

  “I am happy. I’ll be even happier when you come back to York,” I added, my tone teasing even though every word of it was true.

  “Not long now,” she said, sing-song. “We could start for places nearby if you wanted to? Never hurts to get a headstart on things. See what’s on offer.”

  I hummed in agreement, already picturing what sort of place I thought we’d both love. The end of this case had happened alongside Sam’s imminent return to York, and it felt like the start of the next part of our lives. I’d never felt so strongly for anyone, and I’d also never felt so at peace or so ready to move forwards. In the end, it’d been cathartic to part ways with Phil now that I knew exactly how different we were and to pass my dad’s things off to a charity shop. I was still working on healing things fully with my mum, but we were in regular contact for the first time in years, and it felt good.

  These days I felt steadier, less like the wary loner I’d been when I first arrived in the police, running from my dad’s death and my past. Now I had a kind woman who loved me and a group of people I could lean on when I needed to, and who I supported in return. And now we would be adding Chance to our little family, who would no doubt bring plenty of mischief along with him. I couldn’t wait.

  Epilogue

  The sun had descended below the horizon by the time I was finishing up, and it’d taken the remaining dregs of the day’s warmth with it. I’d got up to turn the fire up higher earlier, but the room was still a little cold, and I was looking forward to another cup of hot tea.

  My wife had returned from her afternoon tea trip with her friend some time ago, coming to poke her head round the door of the living room. She’d smiled with some fondness to see us still there, Douglas and Liam listening attentively to my old tales before reminding me gently that we still had some packing to do.

  “Well,” I sighed when I’d just about finished up, “That’s the whole thing, just about. What did you think, lad? Worthy of publication?”

  “Of course!” Liam said, taking my query quite seriously. “People like to hear about rescues and helping animals, and there was a personal angle, too,” he added, clearly repeating the words from somewhere else.

  “Did you teach him that bit?” I asked Douglas.

  “Nope, I think that nugget came from the font of all knowledge; Google.”

  “Ah,” I said, smiling.

  “But what happened to your friend? Your old friend, anyway, Phil? Did he go to prison? Was he super angry at you?”

  I paused, painful memories of seeing Phil in court briefly resurfacing before I turned my thoughts away.

  “He did go to prison, though not for as long as I might’ve hoped. And he was angry with me, yes, and hurt too, I think. He tracked me down once, but I gave him a warning, and he stopped after that.”

  “I’m glad he didn’t bother you further,” Douglas said, his adult understanding giving his words a heavier sympathy than Liam might’ve managed. He knew that Phil could’ve tried to wreak revenge on me after he got out and made my life difficult. I’d been lucky that he’d valued staying out of jail and under the police’s radar more than exacting vengeance on me. I gave Douglas a nod of acknowledgement.

  “What about Chance?” Liam wanted to know.

  “He lived a long, happy, doggy life,” I said with a faint smile. “Staffy dogs make for the best pets, lad. Rehoming is always better than buying from a breeder that I can tell you.”

  “I would if I could have a dog,” Liam promised, sending a pleading look towards his father, who shook his head again. Liam huffed out a breath, clearly unimpressed.

  “What I’m curious about is how that bloke Matt found out about you,” Douglas said thoughtfully.

  I hummed in agreement. “That question didn’t get answered for a long while after the case, several months in fact. It turned out that there was a leak at LACS, a fairly senior member of their team who was taking money from various criminals in return for tipping them off.”

  “Blimey. What a lowlife,” Douglas said, looking disgusted.

  “Aye. It took LACS another couple of operations before they figured out who the information was being leaked from. He went to jail for a long time, though, I’m happy to say.”

  “Good,” Douglas said with feeling.

  “What about-” Liam started and then stalled, clearly forgetting the person’s name. He snapped his fingers as he tried to remember, which was such an adult move to see on a teenager that it made me smile slightly. “Freddie!” Liam said abruptly. “Freddie Smell. Was he okay?”

  “Freddie Snell,” I corrected, amused. “Yes, he was. We invited him to the housewarming later on, actually. His partner was a great guy, a comedian by trade, I think.”

  “Where abouts did you move to?” Douglas enquired.

  We chatted for a short while longer, mostly about things that didn’t involve the case, so we quickly lost Liam’s attention. The lad started yawning not long after, and I shared a look with Douglas after Liam yawned so widely his jaw clicked.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly when he saw his dad and me looking at him.

  I laughed gently. “Nowt to be sorry for, though I reckon you and your dad should be getting off home. Get some tea in you and then to bed. I’ll be doing the same, I can assure you.”

  Liam wrapped up his work on his laptop before packing his things away, Douglas and I exchanging small talk as the lad got himself sorted.

  “It’ll be good to see the kids again,” I was saying. “They’re growing up fast now, probably almost young Liam’s age.”

  “Grandkids?” Douglas asked.

  “Ah, no. Grand nieces and nephews, actually. My wife’s sister had three littluns, and now they’re grown and have their own children. Makes a man feel old.” I gave a chuckle.

  Liam was ready to head out by then, and I saw them out of the door
, my wife coming out of the kitchen to say goodbye.

  “Thanks for the story, Mr Mitchell!” Liam called out of the window of his dad’s car, loud enough to be heard over the wind. I chuckled, raising a hand to wave them off.

  As lovely as it was to see them, it was nice to close the door on the cold evening and settle down in the kitchen. My wife had kindly made us both dinner, and it was nice to sit opposite her in the relative quiet, the radio murmuring from the side.

  My wife had brought back a Bakewell tart, the white icing shiny and pristine on the top and the cherry in the middle as red as a clown’s nose. We split it in half and shared it for dessert, and once we were finished, I reached across the table to take my wife’s hand.

  “I was showing the photo albums to the lad today,” I told her, rubbing my thumb over her fingers. They were thickened with arthritis now, and the skin was thin like my own, but it was her hand and so still perfect in my eyes. “We could look over the wedding pictures if you like.”

  She squeezed my hand back with a smile. “If you can stay awake that long, I’d love to,” she teased.

  I chuckled. She was right that I tended to drop off on the sofa after a warm meal these days, but we did manage to spend an hour or so looking over the beautiful pictures after tea. Time had left its mark on us, and the mirror didn’t show me the same grinning face as in the photos of our wedding day. In the end, though, it didn’t matter, because the same love I’d seen on my wife’s face on our wedding day I still saw now, when she gave me a smile as I rubbed her feet after a long day or when we shared a look as we sat out in the summer, watching the evening clouds change colour.

  Tomorrow, we’d drive down to see her sister and the family and spend a busy, happy day there. We’d stay over for a night or two and then come back to our quiet home, tired out but content, and that was all I needed.

  A Message from the Author