Sinister Intent Page 8

  Dani let out a gasp, looking mortified as her hand shot to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, Lex. That came out wrong. You know what I mean. You know how the police grapevine works.’

  The mention of Lincoln instigated a deep ache inside her. Lexie tried to laugh off her despondency but it sounded flat, even to her own ears.

  ‘I don’t know if anyone has made the connection. Lincoln was killed almost two years ago. I still go under my married name. It’s too confusing to change it back to my maiden name, so there’s no link there. Besides, I wouldn’t think Burgh would advertise the fact he was partnered with a guy who got killed – doesn’t make him look real good, even if it was a tragic accident.’

  ‘Has he said anything to you? You know, brought it up, expressed sympathy in any way?’

  Lexie shook her head.

  ‘Frankly, the man gives me the creeps and, no, he hasn’t said anything to me other than complimenting my appearance on a daily basis. Besides what could he say? “I’m sorry I’m a useless cop because I let your brother get shot”?

  ‘Anyway,’ Lexie continued, ‘I don’t really need to promote any more drama in my life. The less my work colleagues know about my past the better, I say. I’d like to avoid being the nucleus of gossip if I can help it. That’s if they’re not already talking behind my back.’

  ‘Let’s not get paranoid,’ Dani suggested, flicking an unruly black curl from her face. ‘What about love interests, Lexie, any on the horizon?’

  As she said this Dani glanced around the room as though looking for a potential prospect of her own.

  ‘I hope that doctor shows up. He was just to die for.’

  Lexie shook her head. For three years she had been married to her childhood sweetheart, Zack Rogers. Lexie had thought they were happy until twelve months ago she’d come home early from work, sick with the flu, and found her husband curled up in their bed with Sasha, one of her closest friends.

  Then and there Lexie had vowed she would not be made a fool of again. Her defensive wall was instantly erected and it still stood firmly in place.

  She’d had a few dates since then – only due to relentless pressure from friends – but her heart had never really been in it. The problem was the gun scared a lot of men. Either they were intimidated by the concept of dating a cop, or they were obsessed with the idea of becoming a cop themselves. Cop groupies, she called them; boys who’d wanted to be policemen as kids but for some reason hadn’t realised their dream. The only other option left was to date a cop and that was out of the question. Lexie knew only too well what most of them were like – too many opportunities, too much temptation.

  Lexie changed the subject.

  ‘Hey, did I tell you when I got home yesterday there was a bunch of flowers left at my front door with no note attached?’

  Dani sighed and shook her head. ‘You’re being paranoid again. Amitt Vincent is in gaol, Lexie, and the flowers are probably from some secret admirer. I’m sure you have a few. Besides, why would someone give you flowers if they were trying to scare you?’

  ‘To intimidate me; to let me know they know where I live; to prove they can get to me if they want to.’

  Lexie felt her heart rate increase just thinking about the bikie who had nearly killed her.

  ‘I know he’s in gaol but what about his henchmen? You know how it works. Things can still be arranged from inside a gaol cell. He won’t want me giving evidence at the trial so what’s stopping him from getting one of his men . . .’

  Dani interrupted. ‘You could say that about every cop who’s ever locked someone away, Lexie. If you let it get to you, you’re going to go crazy.’

  ‘Sometimes I think I’m already crazy. I think I see him sometimes, you know, Dani. I hear a voice and it freaks me out.’

  There was an annoying tremor in her hand as she ran her fingers through her hair. Unloading on Dani was supposed to make the tension ease, except there was no relief. The knot between her shoulder blades only seemed to tighten.

  ‘The bikie who put me in hospital looks just like Amitt Vincent. I nearly died when I saw him. For a moment I froze.’

  Lexie hated confessing her fears, but Dani had a way of making her confide without even trying.

  ‘I sometimes get this feeling that something bad is going to happen.’

  Dani put her drink down and covered Lexie’s hands with her own.

  ‘Something bad has already happened, Lexie. In the past two years you’ve been through a divorce, you’ve lost your brother and you’ve been stabbed. Now I don’t profess to understand how any of that feels, but look at it this way . . . Don’t you think you’ve had your share of bad luck for a while?’ Dani gave her a crooked grin. ‘What else can possibly happen?’

  Lexie rolled her eyes. If only it was that easy. How could she put everything out of her mind when every day she had to look at the scar on her neck and be reminded of what that bikie had done to her, knowing that she would have to re-live the ordeal one day soon at the trial. She would have to sit in the witness box, in the same room as the man who had tried to kill her, and be made to look like a criminal, having to justify her actions to some smart-arse lawyer being paid big bucks to discredit her, make her look stupid, incompetent and guilty of shooting a man in cold blood.

  She laughed suddenly, startling Dani, and finished the remainder of her drink in one gulp.

  ‘You’re right. I’ve got to stop all this negative talk. It’s time for another drink. I want to forget everything and just have fun.’

  ‘How are we getting home?’

  Lexie threw her hands up in the air.

  ‘Who cares? I’m being carefree. We can worry about it later.’

  Dani smiled and raised her glass.

  ‘Now that’s the Lexie I know and love. I’ll get us another round.’

  CHAPTER 9

  SATURDAY

  Josh sat in the deserted detectives’ office, intermittently sipping his take-away cappuccino and pushing papers half-heartedly around his desk. He’d hoped the hit of caffeine would cure the last remnants of his hangover and kick-start his exhausted brain. But so far that hadn’t happened.

  He reached for the phone. Brad picked up almost instantly.

  ‘Mate, what have you been doing to yourself?’ Josh asked, unable to hide the amused tone in his voice.

  There was a groan from the other end of the line as Brad described how he’d broken his arm the night before.

  ‘Went out for dinner with the missus, it was our anniversary, had too many red wines and tripped up the front steps. Landed on my wrist and broke it in two places. Spent five hours in casualty and didn’t get my anniversary present, if you know what I mean.’

  Brad let out another groan and a few profanities.

  ‘Bloody hurts. I think it’s time for some more painkillers.’

  Josh laughed. ‘Sorry, laughing with you, not at you. Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine; just pissed off with myself for being so stupid. I’m off work now for at least a month and I’m already bored. How did you find out so fast?’

  ‘The boss called me. I’m your replacement.’

  Brad sighed. ‘Oh good. I felt bad for Lexie. She’s just arrived at the station, has already been attacked by the world’s biggest bikie and now I’m deserting her as well. Can you apologise for me? How is she anyway?’

  ‘Mate, she’s not here yet, but I saw her in passing at the pub last night and she seemed fine. I’m sure she’ll survive without you. I promise I won’t eat her.’

  ‘Knowing your reputation with women, I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Brad huffed. ‘Sorry to stuff up your weekend. Did you have any plans?’

  Josh cradled the phone to his ear as he sipped on his coffee and scrolled through his memos.

  ‘No, it was going to be a non-event anyway. I told Tori it was over last night, or should I say this morning.’

  Josh let out a deep, weary sigh.

  ‘After three hours of tears, then ab
use, and then begging, I finally got rid of her. Then just as my head hit the pillow the phone rings and it’s Mum. My sister got rushed to hospital . . . another breakdown, and Dad’s not well so . . . he expected me to look after things. I got home from the hospital at 7 am. The boss rang me at 11 am, so I’ve had,’ Josh counted on his fingers, ‘four hours sleep.’

  Naturally Josh loved his mother. She was a loving and caring woman; nurturing, encouraging, supportive, everything a mother should be. But she was useless in a crisis. She was weak-natured and depended completely on his father for everything.

  His father, on the other hand, was a condescending narcissist, who in return for his wife’s blind devotion regarded her as his own personal slave. It had never been any different. The fact his mother allowed herself to be treated in such a fashion, like a worn and tattered doormat, was to Josh a constant source of consternation.

  Another bone of contention between father and son was Josh’s failure to aspire to follow the great Doctor Harrison into the world of medicine. It had been a major blow to his father’s ego.

  It was only in recent years that Josh had realised, no matter what he did, it would never be good enough. He was incapable of impressing a man impossible to please, so he had ceased attempting to seek his approval. And now, with ailing health, his father no longer had the energy to condemn and criticise, but his approach towards his only son remained obstinately indifferent. For his mother’s benefit, Josh tried to mask the loathing that had been festering just beneath the surface for too long to remember, and regarded his father with the polite tolerance of a stranger.

  Ironically, it seemed his sister Jenna, who had spent most of her adult life in and out of mental institutions and treated both his parents with self-righteous indifference, could do no wrong in their adoring eyes. Josh tried not to be bitter but he failed at that too. He knew it was a useless emotion but, hey, he was only human.

  Is it any wonder I drink?

  ‘I’m sorry, man. Now I feel really bad,’ Brad said.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll get over it.’ Josh let out a chuckle. ‘I’d better go. Some of us have to work. Take care of yourself, Humphrey.’

  ‘Don’t call me that . . .’

  Josh put down the phone with a laugh and began scanning through the significant events. The computerised operational policing system – aptly labelled COPS – provided, for the information of police, a summary of significant incidents that had occurred throughout the state within the last twenty-four hours. He liked to be aware of the happenings in and around Sydney while he’d been off duty. It always paid to be informed. Not that he was obsessed with the job. He wasn’t a cop-a-holic like some people he’d worked with, who lived and breathed the job. They would pull over a motorist on their days off for speeding, or sneak a portable radio home so they could listen to what they were missing out on when they were off duty. Get a life!

  He inspected the station summary, noting the general duties guys had been busy last night. They’d attended numerous noise complaints; residents and their guests guilty of consuming too much Christmas cheer, cranking up the volume on their stereos, and upsetting their not so festive neighbours – a heinous offence. There had been a few pub brawls, the result of too much alcohol and testosterone packed into the same crowded bar. In addition there had been the ensuing domestics instigated after a long night of drinking, a couple of break and enters, and one bad car accident. Nothing unusual, Josh thought, wondering what tonight would bring.

  His head snapped up towards the door as Lexie strolled into the office. Seeing him, she froze instantly.

  ‘Hi. Brad broke his arm last night. Fell up his front steps after one too many.’ Josh found he was speaking rapidly. ‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for tonight. Hope you don’t mind?’

  Josh noticed her face drop before she remembered her manners and smiled.

  ‘Of course not.’

  Like Josh, who was decked out in jeans and a crisp white T-shirt, Lexie was dressed casually. She wore a snug-fitting pink tank top that hinted at a taut stomach underneath, blue jeans that he couldn’t help but notice moulded perfectly to her narrow hips, and clean white runners.

  Tonight they were working the ‘cocktail’ car, as it was fondly referred to; a semi-undercover vehicle which required them to wear plain casual clothing. They were not expected to respond to routine jobs, but instead assist with the extra work created by the festive season. It was much easier to catch people doing the wrong thing when they were unaware they were being watched.

  Lexie moved to her desk and propped her bag on the chair.

  ‘Brad broke his arm? The poor thing! That means . . .’

  ‘Yes, he’s going to be off work for a few weeks at least.’ Josh could almost see her brain calculating the implications. ‘Don’t panic just yet. I’m not sure if you’ll be stuck with me as your partner until he comes back. At this stage I’ve just been asked to cover this shift for Brad.’

  ‘Oh . . . I wasn’t worried,’ Lexie said, her voice rising a few octaves.

  Josh changed the subject.

  ‘Our fearless leader just called and dealt us our instructions. There’s been a tip-off that there’s going to be “an incident” at the Assassins’ clubhouse tonight. The surveillance unit is tied up with the undercover branch at a drug bust. Something to do with containers of cocaine being shipped into the country. It’s a big job they’ve been working for months so the entire team is unavailable. We’re to sit off the place until relieved.’

  He saw the look of concern cross Lexie’s face before she concealed it.

  ‘Since we’re an extra car crew we’re stuck with standing watch for a while. The state protection guys are on standby in case anything happens but it’s really just a precaution. As you know, the increasing tension between the bikies is making everyone nervous. The cops are just covering themselves.’

  Without meeting his eyes, she gave Josh a quick nod then glanced at the floor. For a split second before Lexie looked away, Josh caught her expression. He was unable to read it but he got the distinct impression she was not overly enthusiastic about their first tasking. Or could it be the thought of sitting, for possibly hours on end, in a confined space next to him that she found unappealing?

  ‘Is everything okay, Lexie?’ Josh asked. She was still motionless, seemingly frozen, lost in thought.

  Lexie’s head snapped up at the sound of her name. Her wide eyes met his gaze. ‘Yes, yes. Sorry . . . I was just thinking.’ She spoke rapidly without taking a breath, then, let out a strained laugh. ‘Doesn’t matter, just having a blonde moment. I’ll just get my gun and we can go.’

  Lexie was anxious, edgy. There was no doubt about it. But why? Was it seriously him or was it something else? Maybe she had been thrown off by the prospect of working with a new partner. Who knew? It made Josh realise how little he knew about his new workmate.

  Watching her hurry off towards the firearms locker room, Josh found himself perplexed. At this moment he could be certain of only one thing regarding Lexie Rogers; she was nervous. And, for some reason he couldn’t stop himself from wondering why. But something else, even more concerning than intrigue over Lexie began to bother him; why the hell did he care?

  CHAPTER 10

  Rex Donaldson stood on the footpath opposite Bondi Junction police station waiting for a break in the flow of traffic streaming along Bronte Road. Next to him, his girlfriend, Kate, rubbed her ever-growing stomach and whinged about her sore feet and perpetually full bladder.

  ‘I hate fucking reporting,’ Kate complained.

  A condition of their bail agreement was that they were required to report to Bondi Junction police station every day, between the hours of 7 am and 8 pm, until their court hearing. Failure to do this would result in their arrest and another charge of breaching their bail.

  ‘It’s not like we have any choice, Kate. Do you think I get off on it?’ Rex spoke sarcastically, stepping back from the kerb as a truck roared past
spewing exhaust fumes into the air. He coughed and sucked on his cigarette. ‘Stop your fucking moaning will you, woman. You’re giving me a headache.’

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  ‘Well you’re not carrying around a baby in your gut, are you . . .?’

  Rex could hear her talking but he blocked out the words until the street noise surmounted her persistent whine and her voice faded into the distance, becoming only a mild annoyance. He was sick of listening to her constant complaints. Didn’t she realise he had more important things to think about than swollen ankles, heartburn and haemorrhoids?

  Vaguely aware of a mosquito-like hum of worry at the back of his mind, he deliberately swiped it away each time the buzz became deafening. Rex hadn’t told anyone about his visitor the other day, or that he now knew who’d set them up with the drugs and why. Not even Bluey, his most trusted mate, could know. It would only make matters worse.

  Rex was aware he’d have to deal with the situation sooner rather than later, before it got worse, or completely out of hand. But although his thoughts were full of the problem, his brain was lacking a reasonable solution. How did he go about controlling, or even managing, the situation without the aggression spilling into a full-scale war that could turn into an extermination program? Payback would be met with more retaliation: injuries, possibly dead bodies and a whole pile of shit.

  He had to be careful. Consider all possibilities before acting. It was not like him to procrastinate but his actions could determine a course of events that had the potential to be disastrous.

  Rex stubbed his cigarette out on the path beneath his feet and kicked the butt into the gutter. As he glanced up he noticed two of the detectives who had raided his clubhouse come out of the station. It was the guy, Harrison, who had charged them, and the girl who’d been hurt and gone to hospital. The male threw the girl a set of keys. She caught them with one hand before moving onto the roadway. Avoiding the traffic by edging around and between parked cars, she stopped at the driver’s door of a green Commodore. Glancing around, she checked the stream of cars, making sure it was safe before opening the door. Rex was certain she’d looked straight at him before quickly glancing away, her eyes darting everywhere at once; everywhere except back at him.