Ember Flowers (4 page)

“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.

“Ugh Scott.”



***

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 stay 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.”