Ember Flowers Page 3
Her blonde head poked through the door. The lights were off.
A soft sigh, pleased she could sink into a warm aromatic bath, listen to some music and let her mind go to blank sludge.
The Officer’s keys and handbag hit the false granite kitchen bench top with a clunk.
As she moved through the kitchen she could hear the TV was on. She scowled.
A silhouette emerged in the doorway, bathed in the blues and oranges of the screen. “You lose your phone Jo? I’ve been calling you all day?”
She leant against the counter top and crossed her arms defensively. The long toned limbs a pale contrast to her dark shirt.
She gathered all her strength but it still came out barely above a whisper. “I need space Owen, time away from you, didn’t you hear that when I was shouting at you?” It was funny, she could be steel with anyone but him, and her colleagues never knew.
His tall frame stood by the door. “We should talk.”
“I don’t want to.” Grey eyes lifted to meet his.
“I thought I’d given you long enough to think things over Jo?”
“Nothing to think about.”
The words sounded more confident than she felt, and he knew it. The quiver in her voice gave it away. He smirked at her, his blue eyes that she once found so attractive were now piercing and cold. They were amongst his most distinctive features, his freshly shaven face was appealing even now. Even after the things he’d said in anger were still fresh in her mind.
He skirted around her and went to the fridge, pulling out a beer with a soft clink, a hiss as he opened the cap with a hand on his shirt.
He stood there and looked at her, raising the bottle again to his lips. She stepped away, feeling insecure about having her back to him.
“I need to be alone, Owen, I’ve had a really shitty couple of days.”
A shrug of his shoulders. “I heard you were quite the hero Jo, pulled a desperate man off a rooftop this morning?” His eyes twinkled as he took a long swig, resting the cold bottle against his stomach.
She glared as an angry flush coloured her cheek. “Where did you hear that?”
He reached behind her and pawed through the fruit bowl, discarding an apple that had begun to decay. “Around the place. We share a lot of friends Jo. People talk.”
A sigh. She’d put Roy in his place later. It didn’t help that Owen was a cop too. It had been how they’d met, how they’d fallen for each other. Both competitive. That’s where the similarities ended. He’d been reassigned to another posting due to policy and red tape. She was thankful for it then and now. They were opposites in all the wrong ways, things got heated quickly.
His latest excuse was his determination for much sought after promotion. Detective. High stress and long hours, he would explain away his behaviour as a frustration of the job, a means of making her question her feelings, her sympathy. Excuses hadn’t lasted forever.
She stiffened. The Sergeant looked for a way out, though the last thing she wanted was to go back to her mother’s with her tail between her legs. Again.
“Please leave.” It was a whimper.
He put the beer down, standing in front of her and brushing her crossed arm with his fingertips. “Babe? C’mon? I don’t wanna fight with you.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing he’d probably make her regret it later. “How many times do I have to say it’s over?”
He squeezed her bicep roughly, he’d seen it. “When you start to believe it.” He pulled her hand away from her chest, examining the still bare finger. She’d thrown the ring at him. Sometimes he still wore his.
Tugging the appendage away. Meeting the cold blue gaze. She’d found the strength to tell him to go before, it was boiling in her gut, even though he didn’t seem to be listening.
“Get out of my house.”
He huffed, standing a foot or so away, just prickling her personal space, needling her into a reaction.
“Don’t you mean, our house?” It was true, his name was penned next to hers on the paperwork. Oddly it never felt like home when he was around.
Joanne moved away, putting the kitchen bench between them. “Choosing to forget that discussion too?” Her half of the documents were already signed. So what if she had to live with her mother until she found something else? Anything was better than this anxiety.
He put the beer down, and splayed his hands on the counter, his shirt creasing with the movement. “Jo..”
She picked up her bag and wound it over her shoulder.
“Where are you going?”
“Out. I don’t want to deal with you tonight.” She turned on her heel to leave.
The beer bottle smashing on the wall made her hurry her pace. He was standing outside when she reversed out of the drive.
Chapter 7
An uneventful couple of weeks had passed. Another couple of clients, meetings, followed by being up to her knees in dirt and flowers. She liked things that way, sometimes it was nice to ease into the week. The last few years had been easier on her than the times that came before. She took a breath when she could.
She sat with her booted feet dangling over the side of newly dug trench, Scott was sweating through the back of his shirt. Jean unscrewed her thermos, passing it to him as he rested his elbow on the handle of his shovel.
They were landscaping a terraced garden in the inner suburbs. The owner had ducked out for a bite to eat, she was feeling hungry as well. The gnawing at her stomach resulting in a complaining gurgle.
Scott wiped the sweat off his brow with a hairy forearm. Her phone chimed at her waist.
She brushed her hands on the tops of her thighs, before hitting the button and answering.
“Patterson Landscaping. Jean speaking.”
A feminine voice was on the other end of the line, in the background she could hear a photocopier.
“Hello Jean, it’s Sergeant Myers, have I caught you at a good time?”
Her eyes flicked to Scott, who was looking at her with interest.
“Joanne, hi, no I can talk.”
The man’s sandy brows raised, he winked at her. She braced herself with her arm, pushing up off the dirt and walking a few feet away. She brushed the grass off on a denim thigh.
“Good. I just wanted to call and give you some good news, your laptop was recovered this morning.”
A pleased grin and a little nod. “That’s great news.”
The blond nodded on the other end of the line. “Yes it is, we’ve logged the details, so you’re welcome to come down to the station and collect it if you like?”
She looked over at Scott and mouthed something about getting back to work. He shrugged his shoulders and grinned.
“Terrific, thanks for letting me know. Anything I need to bring with me?”
The blonde was scribbling something, she could hear the crinkling of paper. “Just the usual identification, you can pick it up any time after eleven this morning.”
“I’ll be there. Are you..working today?”
For a second there was a pause on the other end of the line. “Until mid day. Why?”
She shrugged her shoulders even though the blonde wouldn’t see it. “No reason. You’re just very efficient. Pleasant to deal with.”
Another pause. “Oh? Thanks. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Scott was grinning at her like an idiot. “She’s so hot for you Jean, you know you should grow a pair and just ask her out?” He bent down and started digging at the dark brown earth, sweeping it aside with the blade of his shovel.
He paused a moment, adding. “Then you should take photos, just for bragging rights.”
The older woman rolled her eyes. “She’s straight you idiot.”
He looked away at the roses they still had to plant, as though daydreaming of something. “Not in my fantasy Jean..not in my fantasy.” He looked wistful, his gloved hands resting on the handle of the shovel as he smiled cheekily.
***
The automatic doors opened for her as she walked through, the front desk was attended by a young woman with neatly tied black hair. Jean approached and put her things down on the counter. It was a nice building, even though the gardens outside were lacking. It smelt of cleaning products and the faint musk of aftershave. A corkboard took up most of the wall nearby, adorned with printouts and posters. The carpet was grey underfoot.
“Can I help you?” A smile around small teeth.
Jean smiled back cordially. “Hi, I’m here to see Sergeant Myers about some stolen property being returned to me?”
The black hair tilted as the woman checked her screen, green eyes flicked back to her. “Sure. Sergeant Myers is in a meeting at the moment, but she shouldn’t be long.” She motioned that Jean could sit down in a nearby chair. The older woman smiled and thanked her.
She walked over to the corkboard. It was littered with notices, most of them in relation to persons of interest in ongoing investigations. Other glossy handouts were pinned in between for the public, steps to counter break-ins, what to do in an emergency. A poster caught her eye, a seemingly recreational event for the precinct staff.
A few minutes later, a tall form carrying a shrink wrapped laptop walked toward her down the carpeted hall. The Officer nodded to the receptionist, before walking toward the shorter woman.
“Hello again Jean.” She extended her arms and handed her the black computer.
“Hi. Thanks for getting this back to me.” She looked over it quickly, a little dent, otherwise it looked normal.
The Officer stood stiffly, a hand touched her cargo pant pocket checking for her keys. She smiled, looking toward the door.
“Clocking off for the day?”
A nod of a blonde ponytail and a sigh. “Yeah, my shift is over, been here since four am. I’m starving. Pity I have other stuff to sort out first. I’ve got a beginner’s sailing lesson.” A smirk and a roll of her eyes.
“Oh, for the?” The gardener pointed toward the board.
“Yeaah. Compulsory unfortunately. Some sort of team building thing. You know how it goes.” She checked her pant pocked again absently for her keys.
“I used to sail, there’s not much to it once you know what you’re doing.” A stormy look flashed over her features for a moment.
“Hmm, well, at least that’s comforting.” Grey eyes glanced at her.
A shrug of the older woman’s shoulders. “What are they charging for a lesson these days?”
An annoyed huff. “$180 an hour. Highway robbery.”
Jean thought to herself for a moment, she knew she was being bold, they hardly knew each other. She fully expected to be shot down. “If you have five minutes I can suggest an alternative?”
The Officer’s brows drew together in apprehension. She looked over at the receptionist who was watching their conversation. The black head moved to concentrate on her screen.
“Uh..all right, I’ll be outside, I need to make a quick call, and you need to fill out your claim form.” Joanne pointed to the reception desk as she turned and walked out through the glass doors to the car park.
***
The blonde had managed to cancel her lesson just in time without having to pay a fee. Thus it was so that Jean found herself sitting across from the weary looking Officer at a nearby café. Within walking distance, with chairs that sat in neat rows parallel to the street. Jo had not so subtly indicated she wasn’t in the mood to be running around on a boat this afternoon with some idiot yelling instructions. If anyone asked she would feign a schedule conflict, more willing to do it another day when she was feeling less lethargic.
Silence peppered with small talk whilst they waited for their lunch.
“So..like I was saying. I used to sail, did so for quite a long time, had my own vessel. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to give you a lesson.”
The blonde nodded to the waitress when their food arrived. She took a sip of her tea.
“What’s the catch?” Still apprehensive.
Tanned hands shook a sugar packet into her coffee. “No catch. It’s been a while since I was out on the water. Good opportunity to feel the wind in my hair for a while.”
The Officer was observing her as though trying to study her body language. No one did anything for nothing in her line of work.
“I see. OK, I’ll think about it. When and where would we be doing this lesson?”
A smile as she cut into the raspberry muffin. “Sometime when you’re not working. Presumably in water? You tell me?”
Smart arse. “Well, the Race day is a couple weeks from now, could we do it on a weekend?” She hoped the older woman wasn’t plotting some revenge as a payback for hitting her car.
“Sure. They hire out keelboats just down by the waterfront. I’ve still got my license, shouldn’t be a problem.”
A nod of a blonde head as grey eyes looked over her ciabatta. They ate for a few moments in silence.
“Did they sort out your repairs?” Asked quietly around a mouthful of ham and avocado.
The gardener looked up from sipping her coffee. “Repairs? Oh, yeah. No problems.”
The blonde looked sheepish. “Yeah..well. I did apologise for that didn’t I?”
A nod of a brunette head. The Officer didn’t look like she wanted to elaborate further, a frown tugging at her mouth.
“Thanks for not mentioning it the other day. People talk, even cops.”
“I kinda figured, it’s no problem Joanne..I can call you Joanne right? It would be odd calling you Sergeant.”
A clink of a knife and fork resting beside the plate, a poised dab of the napkin on her lips. “Sure, you’re a civilian. I wouldn’t expect you to call me by my title.”
“Great.” Jean checked her watch, a water and shockproof timepiece on a steel strap. “Shit, Scott will be wondering where I am.”
The blonde stood and went to leave as well, pulling a crumpled twenty out of her pocket.
Jean looked down at the hand, then back at her face. “Put that away, my shout.”
A narrowing of grey eyes. “Jean, they can see I’m a cop, I probably won’t have to pay for mine. You go, it’s fine.”
She was stubborn as a mule, and old fashioned. Scottie said it was just because she was butch, Jean thought that was crap. “I’ll get it Joanne. You’re tired and in a rush. Don’t worry about it.”
The two of them stood there eying each other up. Enjoying her height advantage, Joanne smiled. Doing her best to look intimidating, though the subtle grin made it less effective. Her hand hovered ever so slightly by the menagerie of items on her belt.
A dark brow arched in response. “Is that some kind of ultimatum?”
Chapter 8
She still couldn’t believe she was going out on the water with a near complete stranger. It wasn’t a smart thing to do. The cop in her was wary, setting up a plan B in her head in case she felt the slightest unease. But the trusting dark velvet eyes of the gardener seemed so honest that no red flags raised. She tied a double knot in her white sneakers as she sat on the side of the bed.
Joanne had called the woman’s cell sometime Wednesday and they’d picked Saturday week. The only day she didn’t have other commitments. It was cutting it fine, a day before the event, but something assured her that Jean wouldn’t mess her around. That she would keep her word.
She wasn’t sure what motivated the gardener to take an interest in helping her. Her mind flicked to the obvious, that the older woman wanted to get her into bed. A snicker. It was unlikely but she’d had stranger offers. No, Jean hadn’t been flirtatious, just interested, and projecting a calm that contrasted sharply to her current situation.
A cooler packed and loaded into the trunk, she did one last appraisal as she came back inside for her bag. White sneakers, a white shirt covered by a navy coloured padded spray vest. Compression pants at capri length, she wore them under her gym shorts sometimes to s
tay warm. She ran a brush through her hair and tied it up in her customary no nonsense tail. Jo didn’t know why she was putting in the effort, she always looked presentable. A part of it came with being a cop, she was the public face of a respected group. The rest, well, she just had personal standards. That had to be it.
***
The marina felt like a foreign environment. Tucked up against the city, blue water only a hundred feet from sky scrapers and boat sheds. She pulled into the dockside carpark, the smell of cut grass and the sea salted the air. Green lawn and palms. Shortly before mid morning, the air was fresh but not bracing. She saw the triangular sails glide by. Her tutor’s ute was parked near by.
“Must be the place.”
Her suspicions were confirmed as her feet moved over the clack of the boardwalk. A dark haired figure was walking around the edge of the white yacht, checking ropes fastened to the main sail. The logo from the hire business on its side. She looked up as Jo approached, the sunglasses above a broad smile.
“Morning Jean.” She looked over the boat, it looked smaller in the pictures.
“Morning Joanne, climb aboard, I was just getting her ready to go.”
The cop reached her arms up and handed the cooler to the woman. A sharp nod and long legs were stepping over the chrome railing and onto the deck. A wobble as her feet adjusted to the rocking of the boat. Jean smiled at her, smelling like coconut sunscreen.
The older woman dusted her hands together as she looked at her. “So, never been sailing before?”
A shake of her head.
A good natured smile in return. “Great, well you’re in for a treat.”
It turned out that Jean was a patient and thorough teacher. Jo found herself far less nervous around the large chrome wheel and the creaking boom as it wove back and forth across the deck. Of course, she put up a confident front, she wasn’t sure if the older woman could see through it or not.