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She reached out and took the photographs. The first one showed a house gutted by fire. She tossed it onto the counter. ‘Rick is not, nor has he ever been, an arsonist.’
The second showed a crashed car. She glanced up and raised an eyebrow.
‘The brake lines on the car were deliberately severed. The woman was lucky to get out of it with nothing but a broken collarbone and a concussion.’
She threw it to the bench to join its partner. ‘Rick would never hurt a woman.’ Rick protected women. She didn’t bother saying that out loud, though. Mitch would never believe her.
The third and fourth photos made her stomach churn. ‘And he certainly wouldn’t senselessly slaughter animals. That’s...’ The photographs showed a field of sheep with their throats cut. One of them was a close-up. She slammed it face down to the bench. Acid burned her stomach. This was just another of Mitch’s witch-hunts.
‘That’s what’s happened to Rick’s last three girlfriends.’
‘I’m sorry, Officer King, but I’m afraid I can’t help you with your enquiries.’
‘Have you spoken to Rick recently?’
He’d rung her two nights ago to tell her he was coming to town.
‘No.’ She kept her face bland and unreadable. She’d practised and practised that skill until she had it down pat. ‘I haven’t spoken to Rick in months.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not sure I believe you.’
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. ‘I don’t care what you believe.’ She paused and forced herself to complete an insolent survey of all six feet two inches of honed male flesh. Mitch still had a great body. She kinked an eyebrow when she met his gaze again, keeping her face bland. ‘But it has to be said, you used a smoother approach last time.’
And, just like that, the air shimmered with unspoken tension. As if it hadn’t been shimmering enough before!
‘You’re never going to forgive me, are you?’
‘Nope.’
‘I was trying to protect you.’
‘Liar.’
She spoke so softly it almost sounded like an endearment. He took a step back, shrugged his official demeanour back on like a second skin. ‘We have it on fairly good authority that Rick is headed for Sydney.’
She kept her mouth shut.
‘And we think you’re next on his hit list.’
It took an effort of will not to roll her eyes. ‘Besides the fact that I know Rick would never hurt a woman—any woman—I’ve never been his girlfriend. I think that rules me out, don’t you?’
‘No.’
It was the way he said it. It made her blood run cold. Mitch might not make the law, but he sure as heck ensured it was enforced to the letter. Regardless of the cost—to himself or to others. ‘What makes you so sure I’m next on the hit list?’
‘A crumpled-up piece of paper with your address on it.’
She went cold all over. ‘Found where?’
‘In that field of slaughtered sheep.’
She folded her arms, resisting the urge to chafe them instead.
‘Two undercover officers from Central Sydney are on their way here now. One of them fits your description.’
We have a problem...you won’t like the solution.
‘And the bit I’m not going to like?’
‘They’re going to stake out your house to wait for Rick, and we have to get you out of here.’
She went to shake her head.
‘For your own protection.’
It should’ve sounded ludicrously melodramatic, but it didn’t. She stared at him for a long tension-fraught moment, taking in the way his mouth tightened and his shoulders tensed. ‘We meaning you?’
He nodded.
‘This is a bit beneath you these days, isn’t it?’ He’d progressed through the ranks of the force with a speed that was apparently a credit to him and his family. She might call him Officer, but he was a detective now. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t moved to a flashier suburb and wiped the dust of this working-class neighbourhood from the soles of his polished boots. She couldn’t believe he was standing in her kitchen asking her about Rick Bradford again.
She pointed to the suitcase on the sofa, open but neatly packed. ‘Look, I’m about to head off on holiday for a week. Up the coast. I won’t be around to spoil your stakeout or whatever it is you have planned.’
‘You don’t understand, Tash. We need to get you somewhere safe. We don’t want to risk you ending up in hospital...or worse.’
‘Why you?’ The question burst from her, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want anything to do with this man. Ever. Again.
His nostrils flared. ‘My history with Bradford is well known.’ The words came out clipped and short. ‘The powers that be want me out of the way.’
‘So even your superiors think your judgement is clouded on the issue?’
He didn’t say anything. He simply reached across and turned the photograph of the sheep over; spread each photograph out so she could experience their full impact.
She cut short a shudder. Show no weakness. Rick wasn’t responsible for those dreadful things, but someone was. Someone who wanted to frame him or hurt him in some way. Someone who didn’t care who they hurt in the process. She couldn’t stop her gaze from flicking to the other photos—the burned-out house. How dreadful to lose all you owned in the world in one fell swoop. She glanced around her open-plan kitchen and living room. She didn’t have much, but...
She glanced at the photo of the crumpled car and swallowed. Some of the questions Rick had asked her the other night made sudden and sinister sense—Have any new people come to the area? Has anything unusual happened lately? He’d asked them all in such a way that he hadn’t raised her suspicions, but now...
She knew her rights. She could say no. For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t had a holiday ever. But she owed Rick. If she could help bring this situation to a swift conclusion—help clear him—the sacrifice of a holiday would be a small price to pay.
‘Where do you mean to take me?’ She didn’t doubt for a moment that Mitch had an ironclad plan.
He met her gaze and just shrugged.
Obviously it was a secret ironclad plan. ‘How long do you think this operation is going to take?’
‘No more than a few days.’
She glanced at the photographs again. Who on earth would want to hurt those women? And what did it all have to do with Rick?
A burned-out house. Severed brake lines. Slaughtered sheep. She suppressed a shiver. She might’ve learned some street smarts in the last few years, she might be known as someone not to mess with, but she had no desire to come face to face with whoever was responsible for all of that. She knew self-defence and she had a smart mouth, but this... It was out of her league.
Self-preservation battled with pride. Common sense eventually won out. She might hate Mitch, but not enough to endanger her own life. She could put up with him escorting her to wherever it was she needed to go. ‘When do we have to leave?’
‘Within the hour would be good.’
She bit back a sigh. ‘You said there were two officers coming? I’ll make up the bed in the spare room.’
‘Just leave the linen out. They can make up their own beds.’
Typical male.
Her hand clenched. There was nothing typical about Mitch King, and she’d do well not to forget it. ‘Then I guess I’ll just throw the rest of the wet things in the dryer, pack a bag and get changed.’
‘Tash, thank you.’ She must’ve looked blank because he added, ‘For being so reasonable about this.’
His gaze lowered to her fist. She unclenched it and pasted a fake smile to her face. ‘I’m no longer an overwrought teenager, Officer King. I have absolutely no desire to meet the person responsible for those awful things.’ She gestured to the photos. ‘But I can tell you now, you’re on the wrong trail if you think it’s Rick.’ And the sooner the police found that out the better.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’ll call me Mitch?’
‘You suppose right.’
She stalked off, heart thumping.
‘You already have a suitcase packed. You won’t need to pack a separate bag.’
‘They’re holiday things.’ Swimsuits and shorts and bright T-shirts. If she was lucky she still might get away for a couple of days.
‘Which will all be fine,’ he called after her.
That sounded promising. She wondered if the NSW Police Force budget extended to putting her up in a nice resort somewhere on the North Coast. It’d mean her week wouldn’t be a complete loss.
She focused on that rather than the thought of spending the next few hours in Mitch’s company.
She wasn’t a teenager, she thought, lifting her chin. She was an adult woman with clear vision and hard-won wisdom. And she had Mitch’s measure now.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...
She shook her head. It wasn’t going to happen.
After switching the dryer on she shot into her bedroom and pulled her mobile phone from her pocket, flicked through her list of stored numbers until she came to Rick’s. She had to warn him of the welcome he could expect when he arrived in Sydney.
Mitch suddenly loomed in the doorway. Damn it! She hit delete and Rick’s number disappeared.
His eyes could knife a lesser person. ‘Were you trying to ring Bradford?’
‘I’m ringing Mandy next door and leaving a message on her answer machine to tell her I’m letting some out of town friends stay. You know what this place is like. If strangers suddenly show up without explanation there’ll be all sorts of alarms raised.’
He loomed in the doorway while she made the call. When she was done he held out his hand for the phone.
She lifted her chin and went to put it in her pocket instead.
‘Don’t test me on this, Tash.’
One glance at his face told her he’d take it by force if necessary. Steeling herself, she slapped it into his palm. ‘I can see the next few hours are going to be a whole barrel-load of laughs. Now, I’d like some privacy while I get dressed. Unless you mean to force your company on that head too.’
Without a word, he turned and stalked off. Tash had to sit down on the edge of her bed and breathe in for several long moments. She pushed herself upright again to pull on her usual armour of jeans, work boots and a black T-shirt.
* * *
It wasn’t until they were driving over the Sydney Harbour Bridge with its comprehensive view of the Opera House and harbour that Tash realised how completely she drew Mitch’s scent into her lungs. She stared out of the passenger window, barely noticing the colourful yachts below or the way the light glinted on the harbour in perfect summer exuberance.
Mitch’s scent hadn’t changed. Not one little bit. He still smelled of oranges and the tiniest hint of mint. Her lungs swelled to drink it in as if starved. With an abrupt movement she lowered the window, blasting her sinuses with warm summer air.
Mitch glanced at her briefly and she met his gaze just to prove she could. What she saw in their depths, though, shook her to her core. She understood the concern. She was a citizen at risk and he was the officer charged with protecting her. Her lips twisted. And she knew how seriously he took that duty.
But...regret?
Like him, she turned her gaze back to the front and tried to ignore the pounding of her heart.
‘You will be safe, Tash, I promise. This will all be over before you know it.’
She believed him. Still, the sooner he dropped her off at the ‘secret’ location and went on his merry way the better.
Another ten minutes of bone-stretching tension crawled by.
‘How is Rick doing?’
He spoke so softly she almost didn’t hear him. She wished she hadn’t.
Her fingers curved into talons. It took an effort of will not to bare her teeth at him like some wild thing. Eight years ago he’d taken from her not only her best friend, but also her self-esteem and her conviction that good trumped evil. She pushed a laugh out of her throat, but it was harsh and guttural. ‘Do you really think I’m naïve enough to discuss him with you again? Or perhaps you think him stupid enough to discuss his comings and goings with me?’
His knuckles whitened about the steering wheel. She dragged her gaze back to the front. She remembered those hands more than she remembered his eyes or his smile. She remembered how he’d held her hand in his and the way his thumb had rubbed back and forth across her wrist, making her blood quicken, making her wish he’d do so much more with those hands. She remembered how one of his fingers had trailed down her cheek, and how it had made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. She remembered how his hands had curved about her face the couple of times he’d kissed her, as if she were precious.
Precious? She’d been nothing more than a means to an end.
She could almost forgive him for arresting Rick. He was a police officer and it was his duty to uphold the law. And once he’d seen what was happening, Rick had made sure all the evidence had pointed to him. Rick had taken the blame and had sworn her to silence. She couldn’t blame Mitch for any of that. But she would never forgive him for using her to bring about that arrest, for lying to her, for betraying her so completely. For making her think he loved her. All in the line of duty.
‘I only meant that I’d heard he’d been doing some good work with troubled youths down in Melbourne. That’s a tough gig. I admire him for taking it on.’
Back then she’d been utterly clueless.
But not anymore. Seemingly innocuous questions or nicely worded flatteries would never draw her again. ‘Well, maybe you’d like to make a donation to that cause the next time you have your chequebook open, Officer King.’
They didn’t speak again. They drove along in a silence that itched and burned and bristled for another hour. Tash didn’t say a word when he turned onto the freeway and headed north. He didn’t volunteer any information either. Now there was a surprise.
Eventually he turned onto a small sealed road that wound effortlessly through bushland with only the odd farm dotted here and there to show any signs of habitation. Before they reached the road’s end Mitch swung the car onto an obscured bush track.
‘This isn’t the way to a nice resort,’ she growled.
