Ember Flowers Page 2

  A steaming cup, a click of the morning radio, and tanned legs extended out onto the dark rattan of the table. She spent a lot of time out here on the porch, looking out over a meandering embankment that led down to the trees.

  Jean looked over at her ute, it had rained overnight, she’d taken in the tools to stave off the rust. From the front you couldn’t see the bald metal skirting where the indicators used to be. The old grill reminded her of a face, two headlights for eyes. It was silly to give personality to a tool, but it had been with her a long time. Maybe the thump to the back was the hint she’d been ignoring? A last repair before she would sell it for scrap.

  She mused, sipping her coffee. It surprised her that the blonde woman had been a cop. She should’ve known better than that. Obviously distracted, not practising what they preached. The look on her face after they hit looked like shock, even though it was only a nudge and broken plastic.

  The gardener wondered if she was really all right. Perhaps preoccupied by bad news? She wondered if the leggy blonde had given it a second thought, seemingly distant. Aside from the bill she’d have to pay and the inconvenience. She pulled out her smart phone, thumb flicking quickly through, checking her mail.

  Two from Scottie, a lewd joke, the other a follow up from yesterday. Another hit her inbox as she looked through. Another sip of her beverage, a scrunch of her brows.

  ‘Dear Ms Patterson,

  My apologies for yesterday, your repairs will be organised promptly. I have made the necessary calls, you should be hearing from the garage today or tomorrow.

  Drive safely.

  Sergeant Joanne Myers.’

  The email ended with a signature the same as the card, station details and a direct landline.

  “Hmm. Early riser too.” She responded with quick taps of her roughened fingertips.

  ‘Dear Joanne,

  Thanks for being organised. Was concerned that your vehicle may have been un-roadworthy after the damage done by mine.

  P.S - You need to update your card, your title is different.

  P.P.S - My mother was called Ms Patterson - I’m not that old - yet.

  Thanks,

  Jean

  The gardener smirked and hit send. She placed the phone back on the black canvas cushion beside her. Lacing her hands behind her head. A deep breath, the air was fresher out here than in the city.

  A soft peep, another email.

  “That was quick.” Another little mutter to herself followed, with a self deprecating roll of her eyes, talking to yourself was a sign of going crazy. Scott always told her that, right after he threatened to put her in a home. Prick.

  ‘Dear Jean,

  Yes, thanks to your work ute I am now paying out a cool three grand. Lucky it wasn’t the squad car, or I’d never live it down. Serves me right for not watching the road.

  P.S - Yes, a recent promotion. I will request new stationery.

  Regards,

  Joanne.’

  The older woman smiled to herself. At least she had a sense of humour about it.

  Her coffee savoured, a quick shower upstairs, and she was looking for something to wear. She settled on long khaki shorts, and a polo. She’d had a few made up with the company logo. A fresh leafy motif with white writing. A faded matching decal was weathered on her ute.

  A grasp of the keys and she was out the door.

  ***

  Scottie was waiting for her at the office, a small unit that faced the street. A render of biscuit coloured plaster making the old building more modern. He’d called her at quarter to seven, saying he had bad news. The broken glass of the front window gave her a good indication of what had happened.

  She sighed as she pulled herself up out of the ute. Her eyes drifted over the muddy boot prints on the rain soaked carpet.

  “How much did they take?”

  A shrug of his shoulders. “Was just about to call the cops. Came by to pick up my laptop and saw it like this. Had a quick look around. Lap tops are gone Jean, your computer too.”

  A groan as she rubbed her face with her hand. Thank god for off site backups.

  Her off sider pulled out his phone.

  She watched him, getting an idea. Calling the non-emergency number always too forever.

  “Hang on Scottie, I’ve got a better idea.”

  Chapter 4

  She wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to it, there were plenty of other Officers with smaller piles of paperwork than she had overflowing on her desk.

  She’d picked up her cell and answered the unfamiliar number. At first, she had been wary, worried it would be her ex, Owen, using another number as he sometimes did to get her attention.

  “Hello? Sergeant Myers speaking.”

  A slight pause. “Hello, is this Joanne Myers?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Oh, hi. This is Jean, from yesterday.”

  A soft sigh, she hoped this wouldn’t be embarrassing, she looked around the desks and cubicles, at least everyone was engrossed in their work.

  “Hello Jean, do you need something?”

  “Actually, yes. But I’m not sure if you can help?”

  “Can you be more descriptive?”

  Crunching of boots over bitumen. Crackly in her ear. “Well, I was about to call the non emergency line, and then I thought I might have better luck calling you. My office was broken into this morning, I wanted to have someone check it out.”

  A brisk nod. “Sorry to hear that Jean. I’ll see if I can organise someone to come out and assist.”

  “Sure. That would be great. I appreciate it - just a busy morning, clients waiting y’know?”

  “I understand. I’ll have someone come out to you, may I have the address?” She’d inconvenienced the woman yesterday, the least she could do was put her forward in the queue.

  “It’s on the card, but I’ll give it to you again if you like?”

  She fished around on her desk. “Right. Yes I see. OK. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

  “Thanks Joanne, I appreciate it.”

  A soft click and the call disconnected. She looked down at the leafy motif and photograph of the water feature surrounded by blossoms.

  She got up and walked to the hall. The policewoman knocked softly on the tinted glass. Her superior was eating breakfast. He looked up at her and dusted crumbs off his hands.

  “Captain, do you have anyone you can send out to a burglary? Business owner, place was done over last night.” Blonde locks brushed against the doorframe.

  He took a sip of his juice, then looked at his screen. “Why don’t you go Myers? Not much going on. Take one of the keen new Constables with you. Be good for them to see procedure in action.” Light eyes looked at her expectantly.

  “But?..”

  “Go on Jo. I rely on you so they don’t learn bad habits. You could teach them a thing or two. Besides, you probably need some fresh air after this morning?” A little chuckle over his podgy neck. Captain Pursloe often bantered with her, sharing her humour. Something that made her colleagues either jealous or wary. He had seen her march into the locker room with a ruined shirt, cursing under her breath.

  He made a shuffling motion with his hand.

  She groaned inwardly. Hopefully the older woman wouldn’t complain about the accident. An eavesdropping cadet was the last thing she needed.

  ***

  The scuffling of the rookie in her passenger seat was adding to her anxiety. He adjusted his clips and straightened his shirt, asking her questions he already knew answers to. Barely eight a.m. and already she’d been startled, puked on, and now had to rehash her embarrassment. By the time she pulled in to the small parking lot her sunglasses were firmly on as much as the scowl.

  She forced a smile as she opened the driver’s side door. A quick glance at the nearby work ute, black duct tape patched over the back bumper, she cringed. Footsteps over gravel, the brunette was visible as she hung up a call. She had a blonde man with her, he was checking his watch
. Obviously impatient to start his day too. A quick inventory of the things she needed, forensics would come later if there was anything to be gleaned from the scene.

  In her dark cargo pants, well shined black boots and cornflower blue uniform shirt she probably looked imposing. The brunette greeted her amiably with an extended hand. Her blonde colleague followed suit. The public sometimes found her intimidating, that or the opposite reaction. She shirked off unwanted interest with a pointed barb. Usually sending curious parties away to sulk.

  Her black wrap around glasses went into her breast pocket. The rookie stood nervously beside her as Jo made their introductions. To her relief, the dark haired woman made no mention of their prior dealings. Instead she motioned them toward the broken glass.

  “Thought you were going to send someone out?” A glance over Jean’s shoulder as the blonde stepped cleanly over the shattered window of her reception.

  Grey eyes flicked to her as she made a quick note on her clipboard. “Good opportunity to show one of our newer Officers how to attend a crime scene.” Curt and to the point, policing was a business and she was efficient. Her competitive nature had served her well, often at the expense of being labelled aloof. It wasn’t the worst gossip to be bandied about in the locker room. Already a lot on her mind, she blocked it out and focused on the job at hand. She looked at the shorter woman.

  “So who got here first?”

  “I did.”

  Scott nested his hands in his denim pockets, he sported a tan version of the polo Jean was wearing. It sat well over his broad shoulders, needing to be comfortable enough to work in.

  “OK, so this is how it looked when you got here?” Her voice hinting at an expensive education.

  Another crunch as her weight shifted, moving around the overturned chair as Scott showed her around the office. Jean watched the rookie shadow them firstly to the door, still locked, then to the trailing cords where equipment used to sit. All the while she could hear the policewoman ask questions and take notes. Creating a thorough inventory of what was taken.

  A momentary interruption as the Officer’s cell phone went off. Clear polished nails pulled out the device, before it was ignored and put back in her pocket.

  Jean cast a silhouette against the natural light flooding into the room. “You can take that if you want to? Won’t be offended.”

  A shake of the blonde pony tail and pursing of curvy lips, occupied by her work. “No, they can call back.”

  The gardener nodded to herself over crossed arms. She looked around the dirty rain soaked floor. The broken window had let it all trickle in, along with the mud from the garden bed outside. Joanne scribbled a last few notes as she approached. Handing her another card, with a reference number written on the back.

  “Did they leave any prints, anything you can use?” The brunette looked at the card, then dark almond eyes settled back on Joanne. They walked together back out into the car park

  The Sergeant did feel sorry for her, any kind of invasion like this always left people feeling battered. “Unlikely, it looks as though they used gloves. I’d say it was a ‘smash and grab’.”

  “Right.” She sighed quietly with acceptance.

  The blonde pulled out her glasses and settled them on the crown of her hair, she would put them back on when they got back in the car. Her rookie adjusted his footing, already keen to leave.

  “Right. Well. If I hear anything I’ll keep you informed.” The dark glasses slipped back over her eyes, combating the glare from the concrete outside.

  Another shake of their hands, a brief thanks, long legs bending as she stepped back into her car. She reached for the radio, calling through and logging the report. Informing the station that they would be returning shortly. She could overhear Jean and her colleague talking outside.

  The one called Scott was looking over at her, but trying not to let her notice. He lowered his voice.

  “I didn’t know they put models through the academy, I can see why people break the law..”

  “C’mon Scottie, leave her alone, she’s just doing her job. You’re married, remember?”

  “I know, but I still have eyes Jean. Jesus. Don’t tell me you didn’t want her to frisk you?” A cheeky grin split the blonde stubble.

  “You’re such a dirty bastard Scott. She can probably hear you.” She hushed her voice, looking over at the blonde still sitting in her car.

  The Officer smiled at her with the faintest curl of her lip. Oh yeah, she could hear everything.

  She watched the brunette smack Scott’s arm as they got smaller in the rear view mirror.

  Chapter 5

  Her day was filled with organising quotes, trips to local garden centres and placating the annoyed client from earlier in the week. The afternoon came quickly.

  She’d talked Scott into hanging around the office waiting for the glazier to arrive. More rain predicted, they’d have to fix that glass sooner rather than later. Hopefully their new laptops wouldn’t be far away either.

  Now she was back home, the hum of the evening news barely audible over the crackly orange embers in the fireplace. There was something soothing about naked flame. Something primitively comforting about its warmth and undulating dance. Dressed in an old long sleeve shirt and worn denim, after attending to the horses, she found herself quite drowsy. It didn’t take much to nod off.

  A calm ocean greeted her, her bare feet felt the tactile smoothness of the oiled timber deck. The soft white sails pillowed by mild winds. The mast creaked against the ropes that bound it. The sky blue, like the gemstones from the north. A brush of a hand at her hip. Jean smiled in her sleep.

  A clap of thunder overhead startled her awake. The rain came pouring down like a sheet of marbles hitting the roof. The TV fuzzed over momentarily, the weather playing havoc with the reception. She reclined further into the leather chair, the footrest already fully extended under her weary frame. Her eyes drifted closed again.

  More noise outside, not the rain or the wind. A thudding against heavy timber. A braying of fear from the stable. The structure a little down the hill from the house. A groan and she was pulling back on her shoes, throwing the door open, her face battered by the wind. Eyes narrowing as the storm pushed the hair away from her brow with a smattering of cold rain.

  The heavy door was harder to unlatch with the elements heaving against it. She was already soaked to the bone by the time she entered. The smell of sodden hay assaulted her nose.

  She checked each stall, concrete wet under her feet. Both animals were agitated and pacing. The thunder unsettling them. She stood in front of the bay mare, urging her closer with a hushed voice. The hand clasped a treat from the nearby bag. A whicker and the animal moved closer. Eyes still wild and scared.

  “That’s it ‘Kenzie, settle down, settle down honey.” Her voice soothing and gentle.

  She rubbed down the animal’s long narrow face. Mackenzie was an unusual name for an unusual horse. Named after the breeder’s departed dog of all things, her temperament was usually unwavering. The later of her years having gentled her.

  A dun snout protruded over the next stall, and Jean moved along and patted that too. A nervous whinny and that animal also received a calming rub. She wasn’t an equestrian by nature, she’d just always loved their grace. Now she had room to move, and the animals seemed quite at home with her as their keeper.

  A quick jog back up the hill, clutching her arms to herself in the wet, eyes bleary from the rain. A drenched mess. She scraped her wet shoes over the bristly doormat. Finally giving up and taking them off, leaving them to dry under the eaves outside.

  Jean padded upstairs in wet clothes and squelching socks. A dramatic sigh as she saw herself in the full length bedroom mirror. Her pale shirt transparent over dark nipples, hugging her compact frame. Pixie hair plastered down over her head. Her pants hadn’t fared much better, thick fabric that unshucked stubbornly from her thighs and was thrown onto the bathroom floor. She stood naked for a mo
ment, shivering, until she darted into the hot relief of the shower.

  She scraped the soap over herself, just happy to be warm after that onslaught. The more delicate plants in her garden outside would likely be broken and ruined by morning. Pale pansies by the deck, blood red tea roses by the door, the vivid greens of herbs by the kitchen. Their zesty aroma by the window would be more potent with this destruction.

  Her thoughts drifted back to the day’s events. It hadn’t been a pleasant surprise pulling up to see the gleaming shards of glass bright against the darkness of the ransacked room. The losses would set her back a couple days, fortunately, most of her designs were detailed sketches in her head. No loss there. Just client information that she’d have to dig up.

  The soap passed over her lean stomach. She was a distance runner in high school, that was a lifetime ago. She’d given it up after the rumours started. Of course, the rumours were true, but that didn’t make it any easier. Since then, work had kept her active and she found her body more willing to stay fit as she aged.

  She chuckled. Her smile quirked at remembering Scott’s embarrassment. She shook her head, and reflected on the second meeting with the tall woman.

  The blonde seemed more alert this time around. Though she still projected unease. It was visible in the slight crinkling of her brow, the tiredness in her eyes, despite her otherwise confident demeanour.

  Scottie was right about her looks. Though Jean had refrained from more lecherous remarks, it hadn’t stopped her subconscious mind.

  She could see Joanne was firmly straight, her gaydar didn’t even register a blip. She could just tell, the signs weren’t there. Whomever she went home to at night was a lucky guy, as long as he could stand the grumpy look on her face.

  Chapter 6

  The rain pattered against the tiled roof as her key turned in the lock. Back from her mother’s house after her shift. The woman wasn’t warm, even sometimes over critical, but she could always be counted on. A quick visit to check on things, and now Jo was home.