Sinister Intent Page 11

  Casey Blair came up behind her.

  ‘Come into my office and talk to me.’

  A moment later Lexie found herself sitting across from her boss having no recollection of how she got there. What was wrong with her?

  ‘You’re a mess. Are you all right?’ Casey asked, pushing herself back in her chair and regarding her seriously.

  Lexie almost took offence at her comment but quickly realised her boss was staring at her blood-soaked clothing. She’d scrubbed her hands clean of the blood but there was nothing she could do about her clothes.

  ‘I know, sorry, I’m fine,’ she said, fiddling anxiously with the gold bracelet on her wrist.

  She found herself suddenly gripped by an irrational fear. But it was not the panic she was used to; it was the fear of failure, of not living up to her own standards or those of others. Was her boss wondering and worrying if she could handle things; if she was cut out to be a detective?

  The boss glanced at Lexie’s hands. She stopped fidgeting.

  ‘Don’t be sorry; Josh told me you did a great job,’ Casey told her quietly. ‘He also told me the victim gave you a dying declaration. What did he say?’

  ‘I think he was saying, “Grub. Grub shot me.” ’

  ‘You think . . .?’

  ‘I know, I’m sure,’ Lexie confirmed. ‘That’s what he said but I don’t know what it means.’

  ‘That was all he said?’

  Lexie nodded. ‘That’s all he said. He was struggling to breathe. I could hardly hear him. But his last words were clear: “Grub shot me.” ’

  Her boss shook her head.

  ‘It sounds like a nickname,’ she said, mirroring Lexie’s thoughts. ‘I’ll get one of our analysts to look into it; check with the bikie desk and search the data base. You never know your luck. If we find a bikie who goes by the name of “Grub” we’ve got our first suspect.’

  ‘Now that would be too easy,’ Lexie murmured, rolling her eyes.

  Casey laughed quietly. ‘It would, wouldn’t it? And as you know, unfortunately, when it comes to bikies, nothing is ever easy. They hate us with a passion and want to handle things their own way. That’s going to be our biggest problem – preventing further violence.’

  Lexie nodded in agreement.

  ‘I know working at the Cross you’ve had more than your fair share of dealings with bikies and after your experience with Amitt Vincent and then Rex Donaldson, I can understand if you are a bit hesitant about dealing with them.’

  Lexie could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Was the boss going to take her off the case? She opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out.

  Casey Blair held up her hand. ‘All I’m saying, Lexie, is that I’m not going to treat you any differently to anyone else in this office, but what I do expect is that, if there is a problem, you come and tell me.’

  Lexie nodded. ‘There won’t be any problems.’

  Casey Blair eased the tension by smiling. ‘I’m sure there won’t be. But as I said, my door is always open. Now back to the matter at hand. I’m not telling you how to suck eggs. I know you’re an experienced officer, but this will be your first murder investigation as a detective, so take it all in and learn from it. This will be very good experience for you.’

  Lexie felt a guilty bubble of excitement stirring in her chest as she envisaged herself solving the case, tracking down the killer and putting him before the court. She would find this Grub, prove she was worthy of her position and . . . Oh, keep dreaming.

  How she hated that nagging voice of self-doubt.

  A middle-aged man dressed in a perfectly pressed suit appeared outside the office doorway.

  ‘That was quick. The homicide detectives are here,’ Casey told her. ‘Lexie, get in touch with Batman and Lurch. They were first to arrive at the office and have been out doing a canvass of the immediate area around the clubhouse. Tell them to get back here before 3.00 am. I want to know if they’ve come up with anything before the briefing.’

  Lexie stood up to leave. ‘Yes, Boss.’

  ‘Where do you live, Lexie?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Where do you live? Are you nearby?’

  ‘Yes, ten minutes away. I’m at Clovelly.’

  ‘Good. You’ve got just over an hour before the briefing. Duck home and have a shower. Get out of those soiled clothes.’

  Lexie nodded, thinking that sounded like the best idea she’d heard all day.

  CHAPTER 15

  Sandy Croft poured chilled water into Kate’s empty glass and handed her yet another tissue. Besides holding the girl’s hand and giving her an occasional pat on the back in a show of silent support, she wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to do at a time like this.

  It was not every day your boyfriend’s mate got murdered. And although Sandy had seen her fair share of death – something living on the streets of Kings Cross had provided in abundance – she was not used to looking after others. Looking out for herself was one thing. It was second nature. But the role of care-giver, shoulder to cry on, was not. What’s more, it had been thrown at her unexpectedly, which made her feel more than a little uncomfortable.

  Besides, it wasn’t as if Kate was a good friend. They barely knew each other, really. In the two months since she’d known her, Kate had hardly given Sandy the time of day. Actually, she’d regarded her with cool contempt most of the time and yet, here she was, clinging to her hand as though her life depended on it. It was weird the way grief affected people, Sandy thought.

  For the past twenty minutes they’d been huddled around Rowdy’s kitchen table and in all that time Kate had continued to cry, putting her whole body into the effort. And although Sandy knew little about pregnancy, or babies, she was seriously starting to worry that if Kate didn’t calm down soon she might force herself into early labour. That was the last thing any of them needed right now.

  How she craved a hit. No you don’t.

  ‘I can’t fucking believe it.’

  Rex Donaldson’s voice bellowed around the room. Sandy, sitting opposite him, jumped.

  ‘Who would want to hurt Bluey? He didn’t have enemies. Everyone loved him. Who would do this? Who would murder him in cold blood?’

  ‘We bikies make enemies whether we mean to or not,’ Rowdy said, as he refilled the water jug. ‘Maybe it wasn’t personal. Maybe it was someone making a point.’

  Last night Sandy had gone out for dinner with an old friend. Instead of filling her body with drugs she had made a real attempt to do what normal people did. Rowdy had insisted on picking her up from the restaurant. When they got back to his place the front door had been wide open and Rex, who Rowdy had been drinking with, was nowhere to be found. They had got the call from the hospital not long after that.

  Jumping onto the back of Rowdy’s bike they’d raced straight there, but Bluey was dead by the time they’d arrived.

  Sandy hadn’t known him long, or well, but that didn’t make his death any less of a shock. It was horrible to see Rowdy so devastated and having to listen to Kate’s constant wailing had given her a headache. And it was not likely to get better any time soon because, since the cops were still all over the clubhouse, Rowdy had insisted Kate and Rex stay with him for a few days.

  So here they were. And Sandy wished she was anywhere else but here right now.

  Rex stood suddenly. She tried not to flinch when the chair he’d been sitting on scraped against the lino floor. Knocking it out of the way, he began pacing. His massive body seemed to shrink the room, making it appear smaller than it already was. He swigged the beer he held in one mighty hand, while stroking his beard with the other. Rowdy flittered anxiously between them all, offering drinks and words of comfort.

  ‘When I find out who’s behind this, I’ll kill them,’ Rex snarled. His gaze darted at Sandy. The look of suspicion in his eyes made her tremble.

  Rex scared the shit out of her and he knew it.

  When Sandy had first hooked up with Ro
wdy, Rex hadn’t been happy about their pairing and he hadn’t bothered pretending otherwise. He’d taken her aside and warned her, in no uncertain terms, that if she was just dating his friend to gather information about their club to feed back to the Assassins, she had better make a hasty exit for her own safety. Horrified, Sandy had assured him he had it all wrong; that she was in love with Rowdy, that her father didn’t even know about their relationship, that she was terrified if he found out she was seeing Rowdy he would more than likely kill her.

  Sandy’s fear of her father, Max Croft, was genuine. She knew he’d think her relationship with a Devil’s Guardian was the ultimate betrayal. She’d hoped once Rex realised she had more to lose than anyone, he’d come to trust her. But that hadn’t happened. He’d remained cold and distant. Rowdy had pleaded with her to be patient, reasoning she couldn’t blame Rex for being wary. Animosity between the two gangs had existed for a long time. Could she really expect Rex to forget all that and form an instant rapport with the enemy’s daughter?

  Rowdy, seeming to sense the undercurrent of tension in the air, came to stand behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders he squeezed gently, in a show of comfort and reassurance. Sandy’s heart melted.

  ‘We will find out who did this, and when we do, we’ll handle it,’ Rowdy said to Rex. ‘Though for now, we have to think about organising Bluey’s funeral, and notifying the others. Carmel is going to be devastated.’

  ‘Who’s Carmel?’ Sandy asked quietly.

  ‘Oh God, the poor kids . . .’ Kate sobbed.

  Rowdy pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

  ‘Carmel is Bluey’s ex-wife. They broke up a few years back. They have two kids. She still loved him and they got on real well – for split-up people – you know what I mean?’

  He shook his head and slapped his open palm against his forehead as though the impact of Bluey’s death had just hit him again.

  ‘This is just shit.’

  Sandy was listening to Rowdy’s words but her mind kept wandering, flicking to thoughts of scoring some drugs. It was the stress. She needed something to take the edge off. Maybe she had some valium or oxys in the back of her purse? Then she looked at Rowdy’s tortured face and her heart ached. She felt his agony like acid against her skin and realised there was some pain not even drugs could dull.

  Sandy reached forward and rubbed him on the back of the neck. He looked up at her through watery eyes and a forced smile. In that split second, with that fleeting look, Sandy felt more loved than she had for most of her life.

  Rowdy was a good man. He wasn’t a big, muscly guy or overly good-looking, but he loved her and since meeting him her life had changed for the better. He was her knight in shining armour. He wanted to save her, rescue her from the hellish world of drugs and oblivion she’d fallen into. And she wanted to let herself be saved more than anything else.

  There had been a few lapses, she’d fallen off the wagon a couple of times, yet Rowdy had not persecuted her for her weakness. Instead he had picked her up, dusted her off and pointed her back in the right direction. It helped that Rowdy had once been an addict himself. He could appreciate how hard it was to break free from the chains of addiction.

  It was now four days since she’d had her last hit, and then six days before that. She was taking her methadone. That was not to say the urge was not there most of the time – especially now – the itch to run out and score, to back out of the real world for a while was ever-present. Yet she couldn’t allow herself to give in to the almost overwhelming craving. You can’t be a useless, pathetic junkie forever . . . Love would be her saviour and she would beat this addiction if it was the last thing she did, Sandy thought, with steely resolve. She would make Rowdy proud.

  She felt a set of narrowed eyes on her.

  ‘Are you sure you haven’t heard anything, Sandy?’ Rex asked. His voice was as hard as steel.

  ‘You see your father. Do you think the Assassins could be behind this hit on Bluey?’

  Rowdy groaned. ‘Rex . . .’

  Rex raised his hand to stop him.

  ‘I’m just asking the question, Rowdy. Don’t get protective. I’m trying to think who could be behind this killing because it was certainly no fucking accident. And what jumps into my mind right now is that stupid maniac, Maggot. He started that fight at the pub; tried to crack onto Kate – ’

  Kate’s head shot up. ‘He didn’t try to crack onto me, Rex. He just pinched me on the arse . . . and you went fucking ballistic.’

  ‘Well, you don’t hit on another man’s property,’ Rex roared. ‘And he knew you were my woman, so as far as I’m concerned that was deliberate. This could be payback because I flattened him.’

  Rex’s eyes roamed the room as though searching for something – answers maybe?

  ‘Is that Maggot capable of killing someone?’

  Tension filled the room and there was a strange chill in the air.

  Sandy shivered, reached for a cigarette and tried to keep her voice level as she chose her words carefully. The last thing she wanted was to infuriate Rex Donaldson.

  ‘I hardly see my father. I spend most of my time here now, with Rowdy. Anyway, my father wouldn’t tell me nothing, and I wouldn’t ask – he scares the shit out of me. I know what he’s capable of, believe me. That’s why I ran away from home in the first place.’

  She flicked strands of a mousey brown fringe from her eyes and then nervously twisted the ends of her hair around her fingers. ‘Maggot is too gutless and stupid to do anything like this. He’s definitely crazy, and a pain in the arse, but he’s not a murderer.’

  Rowdy interjected. ‘Remember, Sandy, how you told me Maggot blames us for his girlfriend’s death? This might be some kind of payback?’

  Rex exploded. ‘What the fuck . . .? I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. How does an ugly weasel like that get his own piece of arse? She must have been fucking dingo ugly.’

  ‘She wasn’t. I’ve met her,’ Sandy stated, earnestly. ‘She was actually very attractive but she had problems. She must have to be with Maggot in the first place and then to set herself on fire . . .’

  ‘What the hell? You’d better tell me all about this.’ Rex drew frighteningly close to Sandy.

  Sandy inhaled deeply from her cigarette, trying to calm herself, then continued.

  ‘Maggot’s girlfriend Katia committed suicide in the most horrible way – she set herself alight. For some stupid reason Maggot got it in his head she’d been murdered by the Devil’s Guardians as payback for him instigating the fight at the pub. I was cleaning the clubhouse only yesterday morning and heard my Dad giving it to him, telling him to pull his head in and stop mouthing off about revenge on the Devils or he’d be out of the club.’

  ‘What? And he blames us for that . . . The man’s a blasted lunatic.’ Rex slammed his hand against the fibro wall in a burst of anger.

  ‘Calm down, Rex,’ Kate screamed at him, starting to cry again. ‘You’re freaking me out.’

  ‘Maggot is an idiot,’ Sandy said, glaring at Rowdy. He wasn’t supposed to repeat what she’d told him in confidence. It could give Rex the wrong idea.

  ‘His girlfriend was not killed. She killed herself and he just wanted to blame someone. And yes, he did shoot off at the mouth but my father pulled him into line about making stupid statements like that.’

  ‘Thought your father told you nothing about bikie business,’ Rex questioned her, suspiciously.

  ‘He doesn’t. He pays me to clean the clubhouse once a week. I was there cleaning up and overheard my father getting up Maggot for the rent. I think he only keeps him around, lets him stay in the gang, because he feels sorry for him.’

  ‘So big-hearted of him.’ Rex narrowed his dark eyes and drilled her with a glacial stare. ‘If I find out . . .’

  Sandy felt her stomach somersault.

  Rowdy jumped out of his seat and advanced towards Rex threateningly. If she hadn’t been so terrified, Rowdy’s actions w
ould have been funny. The mountain and the molehill having a face-off, although if it came to fisticuffs Rowdy would no doubt come out worse than second best. He didn’t stand a chance, but she admired his courage and loyalty.

  ‘Don’t speak to Sandy like that, Rex. She’s not a snitch for the Assassins sent to rat on us. She’s my girl, so don’t take all this shit out on her.’

  Sandy tried to prise her skinny hand out of Kate’s grasp.

  ‘Maybe I should go and leave you to talk.’

  ‘No,’ Kate and Rowdy objected in unison. Kate squeezed her hand tighter. It felt as though her bones were being crushed as she was pulled back down onto the chair.

  ‘I don’t want you to go. Apologise, Rex.’

  Rex took a big gulp of beer, slamming the empty bottle onto the kitchen bench.

  ‘Sorry, Sandy,’ he snapped, his narrowed eyes skimming over the three faces staring at him expectantly. ‘I’m just angry and upset.’

  ‘We all are,’ Rowdy said, ‘but we need to stick together. We got stuff to do. Do we tell the rest of the gang now or wait till morning? Do we call Carmel or let the cops do it?’

  Rex rubbed his forehead as though his head hurt.

  ‘I think we need to go and tell Carmel ourselves, if the cops haven’t beaten us to it. We can call Keg on the way, tell him to contact the others. I don’t want anyone to hear this on the TV or the radio. And I suppose I’d better call Scud as well.’

  ‘He won’t handle it well,’ Rowdy stated the obvious. ‘He’ll probably hit the piss straight away.’

  ‘I know. But I have to do the right thing. He is still the president.’

  Rowdy rolled his eyes and grabbed his bike keys. He bent down to kiss Sandy on the lips.

  ‘Why don’t you two try to get some sleep while we’re out?’

  Sandy nodded in agreement, though she couldn’t see that happening.

  ‘We can try.’

  Rex squeezed Kate’s shoulder and she started to cry again.

  ‘That’s a good idea. Get some rest. Lock the doors and windows as soon as we’ve gone and don’t let anyone in. Even if you know them, don’t let anyone in until we get back. Is that understood? I’m not sure who we can trust right now.’