Abby and the Bachelor Cop

CHAPTER TEN

ABBY told no one but it was all over town by morning.

Abigail Callahan and Philip Dexter had had a row. She’d flung his ring back in his face. He’d accused her of having an affair. She’d accused him of having an affair. The wedding would cost squillions to cancel. Abby was threatening to go to China.

Abby was threatening to take the dog to China.

Why, oh, why, did she live in a small town?

The phone rang at seven-thirty and it was her mother. Hysterical.

‘Sam Bolte said he saw you at the golf club and you weren’t wearing your ring. I’ve just had a call from Ingrid. Ingrid says Sam says Philip was rigid with anger, and he said it’s all about that stupid dog. Are you out of your mind?’

She laid back on the pillows and listened to her mother’s hysteria and thought about it.

Was she out of her mind?

Kleppy was asleep on her feet.

She could sleep with Kleppy for ever. If she didn’t do something about Raff.

She couldn’t do something about Raff. There was nothing to do.

‘It’s okay, Mum, I’ll sort it,’ she said.

‘Sort it? Tell Philip it’s all a ghastly mistake? You know, if it means the difference between whether you marry or not, your father and I will even keep the creature.’

The creature nuzzled her left foot and she scratched his ear with her toe.

‘That’s really generous, but…’

‘You can’t cancel the wedding. It’ll cost…’

‘No, it won’t.’ This, at least, she could do. She’d figured it out, looked at the contract with the golf club, had it nailed. ‘I lose my deposit, which is tiny. None of the food’s been ordered. Nothing’s final. I can do this.’

‘You’re never serious?’

‘Mum, I don’t want to marry Philip.’

There was a long, long silence. Then… ‘Why not?’ It was practically a wail.

‘Because I don’t want to be sensible. I like being a dog owner. I like that my dog’s a thief.’ She thought about it and decided, why not go for broke; her mother could hardly be any more upset than she was now. ‘I might as well tell you… I don’t think I want to be a lawyer, either.’

‘You’ve lost your mind,’ her mother moaned. ‘John, come and tell your daughter she’s lost her mind. Darling, we’ll take you to the doctor. Dr Paterson’s known you since you were little. He can give you something.’

‘I’m not sure he can give me what I want.’

‘What do you want?’

‘My dog, for now,’ she said, shoving another thought firmly away. ‘My independence. My life.’

‘Abigail…’

‘I’m hanging up now, Mum,’ she said. ‘I love you very much, but I’m not marrying Philip and I’m not mad. Or I don’t think I’m mad. I’m not actually sure who I am any more, but I think I need to find out, and I can’t do that as Mrs Philip Dexter.’

‘Rumour is she’s thrown him over. Rumour is she met some guy at that conference she went to in Sydney last month. Chinese. Millionaire. Loaded. Couple of kids by a past marriage but that’s not worrying her. Rumour is she wants to take the dog…’

Raff spent the morning feeling…

Surprised?

‘Go away. I’m not home.’

She was pretending not to be home. The first couple of times the doorbell rang Kleppy barked, which might be a giveaway, but she fixed that. She tucked him firmly under the duvet, and she put her jewellery box down there with him. Which reminded her…

Should she give the box back to Philip’s grandfather? He’d given it to her as a labour of love, on the premise she was marrying his grandson.

Maybe he was one of those out there ringing her doorbell, sent by her mother to tell her to be sensible.

It couldn’t matter. Go away, go away, go away.

How long could she stay under the duvet? She started working out how much food she had in the place; when she’d be forced to do a grocery run. She thought of the impossibility of facing shopping in Banksia Bay. Maybe she and Kleppy could leave town for a bit.

Where could she go?

Somewhere Raff could find her. If he wanted to find her.

Don’t think of that. Don’t think of Raff. Get this awfulness out of the way, and then look forward. Please…

The doorbell rang again.

Go away.

It rang again, more insistent, and it was followed by a knock, too loud to be her mother. Philip? Go away!

‘Abigail Callahan?’ The voice was stern with authority and it made her jump. Raff.

Raff was right outside her front door.

Panic.

What did he think he was doing, hiking up to her front door as bold as brass? She peeked past the curtains and his patrol car was parked out front. With its lights flashing.

She practically moaned. This was all she needed. Who knew what the town was saying about her, but she did not need Raff in the mix. It was all too complicated.

Kleppy whined, sensing her confusion, and she hugged him and held her breath and willed Raff to go away.

But Raff Finn wasn’t a man to calmly turn away.

‘Abigail Callahan, I know you’re in there. Answer the door, please, or I’ll be forced to come back with a warrant.’

A warrant? What the…?

‘Go away.’ She yelled it to the front door and there was a moment’s silence. And then a response, deep and serious, and only someone who knew him well could hear the laughter behind it.

‘Miss Callahan, I’m here to inform you that your dog is suspected of petty larceny. I have information that stolen property may be being stored on your premises. Open the door now, please, or I’ll be forced to take further action.’

Her dog…

Petty larceny…

She lifted the duvet and stared at Kleppy. Who gazed back, innocent as you please. What the…? He hadn’t been out. How could he have stolen anything?

She’d given back her mother’s friend’s romance novel. Kleppy was clean.

‘He hasn’t done anything,’ she yelled, and then had to try again because the first yell came out more like a squeak. ‘Go find some other dog to pin it to. Kleppy’s innocent.’

‘There speaks a defence lawyer. Sorry, ma’am, but the evidence points to Kleppy.’

‘What evidence?’

‘Mrs Fryer’s diamanté glasses case, given to her by her late husband. It’s said to be worth a fortune, plus it has sentimental value. It’s alleged it was stolen from her bag, which was parked underneath the table you were sitting at yesterday. I have reason to believe your dog was tied under that very table. Circumstantial, I’ll grant you, but evidence enough for a warrant.’

Uh-oh.

She thought about it. Kleppy lying innocently at her feet through yesterday’s lunch. A big table, twelve or so women. Twelve or so handbags at their respective owners’ feet.

Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh.

‘I have more serious things to think about this morning than glasses cases,’ she managed and she heard the laughter intensify.

‘You’re saying there’s something more serious than grand theft?’

‘I thought it was petty larceny.’

‘That depends whether the diamantés are real. Mrs Fryer swears they are. I knew old Jack Fryer and I’m thinking otherwise but I need to give the lady the benefit of the doubt.’

‘He hasn’t got them,’ she wailed. ‘He’d have given them to me by now.’

‘I need to search.’

‘Go away.’

‘Let me in, Abigail,’ he said, stern again. ‘The neighbours are looking.’

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Raff walking in here… If anyone in this town got even the vaguest sniff of what she was feeling…of why she’d been jerked out of her miserable life into something resembling a future…

Her future.

The word somehow steadied her. She wasn’t marrying Philip. She had a future. Okay, maybe she needed to step into it rather than hiding under the duvet.

She climbed out of bed and shrugged on her brand new honeymoon wrap. Where was her shabby pink chenille? She’d got rid of it. Of course she had. That was what a girl did when she was getting married.

So now she was stuck with pure silk. Pure silk and Raff. She shoved her toes into elegant white slippers, pasted a glower on her face and stomped through to the front door. Hauled it open.

Raff was there in his cop uniform. He looked…he looked…

Maybe how he looked wasn’t the issue. ‘Whoa,’ he said, his gaze raking her from the toes up, and she felt herself start to burn. She’d had fun buying herself wedding lingerie. She’d never owned silk before. It was making her body feel…

Well, something was making her body feel-as if it had been a really bad idea to give all her shabby stuff to the welfare store. The way Raff was looking…

Stop it. She practically stamped her foot. Raff was a cop. He was here to search the place. What she was thinking?

She knew what she was thinking, and she’d better stop thinking it right now. Instead, she concentrated on keeping her glower at high beam and stood aside as he came in.

‘I don’t want you here.’ What a lie.

‘Needs must. You say you don’t have a glasses case, ma’am?’

‘If you say ma’am once more I may be up for copicide.’

‘Copicide?’

‘Whatever. Justifiable homicide. Kleppy didn’t pinch anything.’

‘Are you sure?’

She winced at that. ‘Um… No.’

He grinned. ‘Not such a good defence lawyer, then. So what’s with the millionaire?’

‘The millionaire?’

‘The guy you’ve thrown Philip over for.’

The millionaire. If he only knew. ‘I hate this town,’ she muttered, and she didn’t need to try and glower.

‘So it’s all a lie.’

‘What’s a lie?’

‘That you’ve tossed Philip aside and found another.’

‘Yes. No. I mean…’

He caught her hand and held it up for them both to see. She’d been wearing Philip’s ring for two years now. A stark white band showed where the ring had been.

‘Proof?’ Raff said softly.

‘If I ran off with someone else I wouldn’t be here now,’ she snapped. ‘And if he was a millionaire I’d have a rock to match.’

‘But you’ve given Philip the flick.’

‘Philip and I are taking time to reassess our positions.’

He surveyed her thoughtfully, once more taking in the silk. ‘That’s lawyer speak for a ripper of a fight and no one’s speaking. Does this mean Sarah and I get our pasta maker back?’

That was a punch below the belt. But still… The pasta maker and Philip, or no pasta maker and no Philip.

No choice.

How had she changed so much? This time last week she’d been the perfect bride. Now, here she was, standing in the hall with her criminal dog behind her, with Raff right here. Right in her hall. Big, sexy, smiling.

Raff.

‘I’ll check my bag,’ she muttered but he put her aside quite gently.

‘No, ma’am. I’ll check your bag. I don’t want evidence tampered with.’

‘You’re thinking of taking paw prints?’

He chuckled, a lovely rich sound that filled the hall; that made her feel…like there might be something on the far side of this awfulness.

Her bag was by the front door where she’d tossed it when she’d come in yesterday. Big, bright, covered with Elvises. She’d made it as a picnic bag, thinking wistfully her Elvis dress would look cute on picnics. As if Mrs Philip Dexter would ever go on picnics.

Now the bag was stuffed with legally gathered loot-all the small gifts she’d been given yesterday. These were the gifts she’d have to sort and send back, with a note saying very sorry, she wasn’t marrying Philip.

She’d have to reword that. She wasn’t sorry at all. Especially now Raff was here.

He squatted beside the bag and started laying gifts out on the floor.

‘Candle holders-very tasteful. Place mats-a girl can’t have too many place mats. What’s with the Scent-O-Pine Air Freshener? Oh, that’s from Mrs Fryer. She really doesn’t like your Kleppy. Hey, His and Her key rings-very useful. Oh, and what’s this?’

This was a glasses case. Exceedingly tasteful. Pink and purple, studded with huge diamantés.

‘Worth a billion,’ Raff said appreciatively. ‘Every diamond over a carat, but not a one out of place. Lovely soft mouth, our villain.’

The villain had come to investigate, pushing his way through the crack in the bedroom door, nosing his way to the crime scene. Checking out the glasses case. Putting his paw on it, then looking back to Abby and wagging his tail.

‘Don’t say a thing, Klep,’ Abby said. ‘No admissions.’

‘His DNA’s all over it.’

‘He put it on just now. He’s as horrified as I am. And you… you’ve let the suspect himself contaminate the crime scene. I’m appalled.’

He grinned and rubbed Kleppy under the ear and Kleppy wriggled his tail, lifted the glasses case delicately from his hand and headed back into the bedroom. Straight under the duvet with the rest of his loot.

Raff looked through to the bedroom, thoughtful. ‘Maybe I should search in there, too.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ she said, suddenly panicking, and he straightened and his smile faded.

‘I won’t. You okay?’

‘I’ll live.’

‘You have a hard few days ahead. I hope your millionaire’s going to take care of you.’

‘Raff…’

‘Mmm?’ He was watching her. Just…watching. The laughter had gone now. He was intense and caring and big and male and…and…

‘I think I can put Ben behind me,’ she said and his face stilled.

‘Sorry?’

‘I…’

How to say the unsayable? How to get it out? She’d never intended… In a few months, maybe, when the dust had settled… But now? Here?

‘I think I might love you,’ she whispered and the thought was out there-huge, filling the house with its danger.

Danger? That was what it felt like, she thought. A sword, hanging over her head, threatening to fall.

Falling in love with the bad boy.

‘I know…this is dumb.’ She was stammering, stupid with confusion. ‘It’s not the time to say it. I shouldn’t… I mean, I don’t know whether you want it. I’m not sure even that I want it, but I fell in love with you twenty years ago, Raff Finn, and I can’t stop. This week…it’s jolted me out of everything. It’s made me see… Your craziness broke my heart but it hasn’t changed anything. I can’t… I can’t stop loving you. If I can forgive what happened with Ben, is there a chance for us?’

‘For us?’ His face was emotionless. Still. Wary?

‘Once upon a time we were boyfriend and girlfriend.’ She hadn’t got this right. She knew it but she didn’t know how to get it right. ‘I was hoping…’

‘We might get together again?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now you’ve forgiven me.’

‘I…yes. But…’

‘There’s no chance at all,’ he said and suddenly there was no trace of laughter, no trace of gentleness, nothing at all. His voice was rough and cold and harsh. He looked stunned-and, unbelievably, he looked as if she’d just struck him. ‘If I can forgive what happened to Ben… What sort of statement is that?’

‘It’s what I need to do.’

‘What do you mean?’ he demanded.

‘If I’m to love you. I need to forgive you if I’m to love you. All I’m saying is that I can. All I’m saying is that I think I have.’

Silence. Silence, silence and more silence.

She couldn’t bear it. She wanted to dive back under the duvet and hide. Hide from the look on Raff’s face.

But there was no escaping that look. There was such pain…

‘There’s no such thing as forgiveness for Ben,’ he said at last, and the harshness was gone. It had been replaced with an emptiness that was even more dreadful. ‘If you have to say it… It’s still there.’

‘Of course it’s still there.’

‘Of course,’ he repeated. ‘How can it not? And it always will be.’ He took a deep breath. Another.

The silence was killing her.

She had this wrong. She didn’t know how. She didn’t know what she could do to repair it.

Would it ever be possible to repair it?

‘Abby, ten years ago, I was crazily, criminally stupid,’ he said at last, speaking slowly, emphasising each word as if it were being dragged out of him. ‘I can’t think about it without hating myself. But you know what? I’ve moved on.’

‘You’ve…’

‘If I hadn’t, then I’d go insane,’ he said. ‘How do you think I felt? My best friend dead, my sister irreparably injured, and me with no memory of it at all. I was gutted by Ben’s death-I still am. To lose such a friend… To inflict such pain on everyone who loved him… And more, every time I look at Sarah I know what I’ve done. But after ten years…’

Another deep breath. Another silence.

‘After ten years, I have it in perspective,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen a lot of stupid kids. A lot of appalling accidents. There’s always a driver; it’s always someone’s fault. But in those situations, you know what? There are other things, too. Kids egging other kids on. Being dumb themselves. That night Ben wasn’t wearing a seat belt. We had ’em fitted-my gran insisted on it. Sarah wasn’t wearing a seat belt, either-she was wearing a cute new dress she knew would crush. None of us should have been up there on that track in the rain. It was totally dumb. Yes, I was driving. Yes, I must have veered to the wrong side of the road and Philip says I was speeding. I’ve taken that on board. I’ve convicted myself and I’ve received my sentence. I’ve lost Ben as you’ve lost Ben. I’ve lost parts of Sarah, and my actions hurt so many, had so many repercussions, they can never be repaired. That’s what I live with, Abby, every day of my life, and I’m not adding to it.’

‘I don’t…I don’t know what you mean.’

‘If we took this further… Waking up every morning beside a woman who says she forgives me? What sort of sentence it that? This week…okay, I’ve kissed you and yes, I’ve wanted you. I’ve given you a hard time about marrying Philip. And you know what? Last night, when the whispers went round that you’d given back his ring, for one breathtaking moment I thought maybe we could figure out some sort of future. But now… You forgive me? Graciously? Lovingly? Thanks, but no thanks. I can’t live with that, Abby. You do what you need to do, but don’t factor me in. Fetch Mrs Fryer’s glasses case, please. I need to go.’

‘Raff…’

‘Don’t push this any further,’ he snapped. ‘Figure it out for yourself. It’s your life. I’ve done what I need to survive and forgiveness doesn’t come into it. Acceptance…that’s a much harder call.’

She stared up at him, confused. Shattered. Knowing, though…knowing in the back of her mind that he was right.

She forgave him?

Where was a future in that?

Raff returned the glasses case to Mrs Fryer, who took it with suspicion and examined it from all angles for damage. She glared at him and he thought that if it had been his dog that had taken the case, he’d be up on charges by now. Even though the case was worth zip.

Diamonds? He’d seen a diamond that big and he knew what a real one looked like. That diamond was sitting in Philip’s security safe by now, he thought. That it wasn’t sitting on Abby’s finger…

He couldn’t afford to go there.

‘Did you see her?’ Mrs Fryer hissed.

‘See who, ma’am?’

‘Abigail.’

‘I did. She’s extremely apologetic. I believe she may come round later and apologise in person.’

‘Was there anyone with her?’

‘Her dog,’ Raff said neutrally and Mrs Fryer sighed in exasperation.

‘No, dummy. I mean a man. Is there anyone else?’

‘I believe the crime was the dog’s own work,’ Raff said, and turned and left before Mrs Fryer could slap him.

Anyone else…

No. Only him. She’d tossed Philip’s ring back at him because she loved…him?

I think I might love you.

The words echoed over and over in his head. Where did a man go with that?

Without thinking, he found himself driving past his little farm, further up the mountain, up near Isaac’s place, to the road where one night ten years ago his world had been blasted to bits.

How long did a man suffer for one moment’s stupidity?

He’d stopped suffering. Almost. He’d almost found peace. Until Abby had said…

I think I might love you.

He couldn’t afford to let her words rip him apart. He had his life to get on with and she had hers.

It might be a good idea if she did go to China.