Abby and the Bachelor Cop

CHAPTER EIGHT

ABBY searched block by block, first on foot and then fetching the car and broadening her search area.

How far could one dog get in what-half an hour? More? How long had she sat out in the garden angsting about what she should or shouldn’t be doing with her life?

How had one dog made her question herself?

Where was he?

She wanted to wake up the town and make them search, but even her friends… To wake them at midnight and say, Please, can you help me find a stray dog? was unthinkable.

They’d think she was nuts.

Sarah wouldn’t think she was nuts. Or Raff. Her friends…

She thought of the kids she’d messed around with when she was a kid. They’d dropped away as she was seen as Philip’s girl. Philip’s partner. Philip’s wife?

Those who remained… She winced, wondering how she’d isolated herself. She’d done it without thinking. How many years had she simply been moving forward with no direction? Or in Philip’s direction. So now, who did she call when she was in the kind of trouble Philip disapproved of?

She knew who.

No.

She searched for another hour.

One o’clock.

This was crazy. She couldn’t do it by herself.

Do not go near Raff Finn. That man is trouble. It had been a mantra in her head for years but now it had changed. Trouble had taken on a new dimension-a dimension she wasn’t brave enough to think about.

She pushed the thought of Raff away and kept searching. Wider and wider circles. A small dog. He’d be safe until morning, she told herself. He had street smarts. He was a stray.

He wasn’t a stray. He was Isaac Abrahams’ loved dog. He wore his owner’s medal of valour on his collar.

He was her Kleppy.

She drove on. Round the town. She walked through the deserted mall. She walked out onto the wharves at the harbour.

And then? There was only one place left to search. Isaac’s.

Up the mountain in the dark? To Isaac’s? She hated that place. She couldn’t.

He had to be somewhere. After this time, logic said that was where he’d be.

She couldn’t make herself go alone. She just…couldn’t.

Don’t do it.

Do it.

At two in the morning she phoned the police. The police singular.

Raff’s patrol car pulled up outside her front door ten minutes after she called. He had the lights flashing.

He swung out of the car, six feet two inches of lethal cop. Ready for action.

She’d been parked, waiting for him. In the dark. Not wanting to wake the neighbours. His flashing lights lit the street and curtains were being pulled.

‘Turn the lights off,’ she begged.

‘This is Kleppy,’ he said seriously. ‘I thought about sirens.’

‘You want to wake the town?’

‘How much do you want to find him?’

‘A lot,’ she snapped and then caught herself. ‘I mean…please.’

‘So how did you lose him? You let him out?’

‘I…yes.’

He looked at her face and got an answer. ‘Dexter let him out.’

‘By mistake.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘By mistake,’ she snapped.

‘How long ago?’

‘Three hours.’

‘Three hours? You’ve only just discovered he’s missing?’ There was a whole gamut of accusation in his tone. Like what had she and Philip been doing for three hours that they hadn’t noticed they’d lost a dog?

‘I’ve been searching,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Can we just… I don’t know…’

‘Find him?’ he suggested, and suddenly his voice was gentle. The switch was nearly her undoing. She was so close to tears.

‘Yes. Please.’

‘Where have you looked?’

‘Everywhere.’

‘That just about covers it. You sure he’s not under your bed?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘That’s where we find most missing kids,’ he said. ‘Within two hundred yards of the family refrigerator.’

‘You want to look again?’

‘I trust you. Is Dexter out hunting?’

Silence. She wasn’t going to answer. She didn’t need to answer.

‘I’m…I’m sorry to call you out,’ she ventured.

‘This is what I do.’

‘Hunt for lost dogs when you should be home with Sarah?’

‘Sarah’s used to me being out in the night. She has her dogs.’

‘Are you on duty?’

‘This is a two cop town. When there’s an emergency, Keith and I are both on.’

‘This is an emergency?’

‘Kleppy’s definitely an emergency,’ he said. ‘He’s a loved dog with an owner. I was never more relieved than when you said you’d take him on. For all sorts of reasons,’ he said enigmatically, but then kept right on. ‘You want to ride with me? We’ll check out Main Street. Morrisy Drapers is his favourite spot.’

‘I’ve been there. It’s all locked up. The bargain bins are inside. No Kleppy.’

‘You’ve what?’ he demanded, brow snapping. ‘You walked the mall alone?’

‘This is Kleppy.’

‘At two on a Saturday morning? There’s the odd drunk and nothing else in the mall.’

‘Yeah, and no Kleppy.’

His mouth tightened but he said nothing, turning the car towards the waterfront. ‘He likes the harbour, our Kleppy. Isaac’s been presented with a live lobster before now. Isaac had to get Kleppy’s nose stitched but he got him home, live and fighting.’

‘Oh,’ she said and choked on a bubble of laughter that was close to hysteria. ‘A lobster?’

‘Almost bigger than he was. Cost Isaac a hundred and thirty dollars for the lobster and another three hundred at the vet’s. They had a great dinner that night.’

He had his flashing lights on again now. He hit another switch and floodlights lit both sides of the road.

The law on the hunt.

‘I’ve checked the harbour,’ she said in a small voice, already knowing the reaction she’d get.

And she did.

‘Also by yourself.’ His tone was suddenly angry. ‘Hell, woman, you know the dropkicks go down there at night.’

‘They haven’t seen Kleppy.’

‘You asked?’

‘This is Kleppy.’

‘You asked. You approached the low life that crawl round that place at night? Where the hell is Dexter?’

‘In bed,’ she snapped. She caught herself, fighting back anger in response. ‘I know I should have phoned him but he’s not…he’s not quite reconciled to having a dog.’

‘Which is why he left the door open.’

‘He did not do it deliberately.’

‘You make one stubborn defence lawyer,’ he said more mildly and went back to concentrating on the sides of the road.

She fumed. Or she tried to fume. She was too tired and too worried to fume.

‘Have you tried up the mountain?’ Raff asked and she caught her breath.

The mountain.

Isaac’s place.

‘N… No.’ She swallowed. Time to confess. ‘That’s why…that’s why I called you.’

‘You didn’t go up there?’

‘I haven’t. Not since…’ She paused. Tried to go on. Couldn’t.

Tonight she’d walked a deserted shopping mall. Tonight she’d fronted a group of very drunk youths down at the harbour to ask if they’d seen her dog.

But the place with the most fears was Kleppy’s home. Isaac’s place.

Up the mountain where Ben had been killed. To go there at night…

The last night she’d been there would stay in her mind for ever. The phone call. The rain, the dark, the smell of spilled gasoline, the sight of…

‘It’s just a place, Abby,’ Raff said gently. ‘You want to stay home while I check?’

‘I…no.’ She had to get over this. Ten years. She was stuck in a time warp, an aching void of loss. ‘I’m sorry. You must hate going up there, too.’

‘There’s lots of things I hate,’ he said softly. ‘But going up the mountain’s not one of them. It’s Isaac’s home. He was a great old guy.’

He was. She remembered Isaac the night of the accident. Of course he’d heard the crash; he’d been first on the scene. He’d been cradling Ben when she’d got there.

All the more reason to love his dog. All the more reason to face down her hatred of the place.

‘You know, you can’t block it out for ever,’ Raff said. ‘Work it through and move on.’

‘Like you have.’ She heard the anger in her words and flinched.

‘Like I try to,’ Raff said evenly. ‘It always hurts but limbo’s not my idea of a great time. You want to spend the rest of your life there?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Meaning you’ve never come back,’ he said. ‘You’re as damaged as Sarah is in your own way.’

She shook her head. ‘No. No, I’m not. I’m fine. Just find my dog, Raff.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ he said gravely. ‘You know, taking Kleppy’s a great start. Kleppy’s forcing chinks in your lawyerish armour and I’m not so sure you can seal them up again. Let’s see if we can find him so he can go the whole way.’

Isaac’s place was locked and deserted, a ramshackle homestead hidden in bushland. Through the fence, they could see Isaac’s garden, beautiful in the moonlight, but they couldn’t get in the front gate. The gate was padlocked and a cyclone fence had been erected around the rickety pickets.

‘Isaac’s daughter’s worried about vandalism before she can get the place on the market,’ Raff said. ‘She sacked the gardener, hired a security firm and put the fence up.’ Raff headed off, striding around the boundary, searching the ground with his flashlight as well as through the fence. Abby had to run to catch up with him.

The ground was unsteady. Raff’s hand was suddenly holding hers. She should pull away-but she didn’t.

‘Call him,’ Raff said.

She called, her voice ringing out across the bushland, eerie in the dark.

‘Keep calling.’ Raff’s hand held hers, strong and warm and pushing her to keep going.

‘We’ll call from the other side,’ he said. ‘If he’s down nearer the road…’

Near the road where Ben was killed?

Move on. She did move on, and Raff’s hand gave her the strength to do it. How inappropriate was that?

But she called. And she called. And then, unbelievably…

Out through the bush, tearing like his life depended on it, Kleppy came flying. Straight to her.

She gasped and stooped to catch him and the little dog was in her arms, wriggling with joy. She was on her knees in the undergrowth, hugging. Maybe even weeping.

‘Hey, Klep,’ Raff said, and she could hear his relief. ‘Where have you been hiding?’

She hugged him tight and he licked her…then suddenly he wrenched out of her arms, backed off and barked-and tore back into the bush.

Raff made a lunge for him but he was too fast.

He disappeared back into the darkness.

‘You could have held his collar,’ Raff said, but he didn’t sound annoyed. He sounded resigned.

‘Oh, my…’ She started to run, but Raff put his hand out and stopped her.

‘We walk. We don’t run. Wombat holes, logs, all sorts of traps for the unwary in the dark.’

‘But Kleppy…’

‘Won’t have gone far,’ he said, taking her hand firmly back into his. ‘You saw him-he was joyful to see you. This is Isaac’s place, Kleppy’s territory, but I reckon you’re his now. It seems you’re his person to replace Isaac. That’s a fair responsibility, Abby Callahan. I hope you’re up to it.’

‘Just find him for me,’ she muttered.

Kleppy’s person?

She didn’t want to think about where that was taking her.

She didn’t actually want to think at all.

Kleppy had headed back down the hill. Towards the road. They were now within two hundred yards of where the cars had crashed.

It had rained this week. The undergrowth smelled of wet eucalypt, scents of the night, scents she hated.

She’d never wanted to come back here.

‘Move on,’ Raff said, holding her hand tightly. ‘You can.’ She couldn’t.

The thought that it had been Raff, the man holding her hand right now…

Raff…

She could not depend on this man. This man was dangerous; he always had been. He’d been dangerous to Ben. Now suddenly he seemed dangerous in an entirely different way.

But he was the one searching for Kleppy, not Philip.

That would have to be thought about tomorrow. For now…just get through tonight.

‘If he’s gone back down to the town…’

‘Why would he do that? This is Isaac’s place. You’re here. Everything he knows is here.’ And then, before she could respond, his flashlight stopped moving and focused.

Kleppy was fifty yards from the road. Digging? He was nosing his way through the undergrowth, pawing at the damp earth, wagging, wriggling, digging…

‘Kleppy…’ she called and started towards him.

Kleppy looked up at her-and headed back in the direction he’d come from. Back to Isaac’s.

Raff sighed.

‘You don’t make a very good cop,’ he said. ‘Letting the suspect go. Sneaking up and then breaking into a run at the last minute.’

‘What’s he doing?’ They were following him again, back through the undergrowth. Once more, Raff had her hand. She absolutely should let it go.

She didn’t.

‘I suspect he’s one very confused dog,’ Raff said. ‘He knows where Isaac lived but he can’t get in. He’s forming new bonds to you but his allegiance will be torn-he’ll still want Isaac. And what’s back there buried…who knows? Some long hidden loot, or a wombat hole, or something he sniffed on the way past and thought was worth investigating. But now… He’s weighed everything up-you, wombats, Isaac-and decided he needs to go back to his first love.’

And Raff was right. They emerged from the bush and Kleppy was waiting for them-or rather he was waiting for someone to open the gate.

His nose was pressed hard against the cyclone fencing and he whimpered as they approached. He was no longer running. He was no longer joyful to see them.

Abby knelt and scooped him up and he looked longingly at the darkened house.

‘He’s not there any more,’ she whispered, burying her nose into his scruffy coat. ‘I’m sorry, Kleppy, but I’m it. Will I do?’

‘He’ll grow accustomed,’ Raff said, and his voice was a bit rough-a bit emotional? ‘You want me to take you both home?’

She looked at the darkened house, then turned and looked out towards the road, to where Ben had been snatched from her.

He’ll grow accustomed.

Ten years…

Her parents would never forgive Raff Finn. How could she?

‘It’s okay, Kleppy,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll manage, you and I. Thank you, Raff. We’d appreciate it if you took us home.’

He drove them down from the mountain, a woman and her dog, and he felt closer to her tonight than he had for ten years.

Maybe it was what she was wearing. The normally immaculate lawyer-cum-Abby was wearing old jeans, a faded sweatshirt and her hair had long come loose from its normally elegant chignon. She still had flour on her face from pasta making. There were twigs in her hair.

Her face was tear-streaked and she was holding her dog as if she were drowning.

She made him feel…

Like he’d felt at nineteen, when Abby had started dating Philip.

He and Abby had been girlfriend and boyfriend since they were fourteen and sixteen. Kid stuff. Not serious.

She hung round with Sarah so she was always in and out of the house. She was pretty and she laughed at his jokes. She was always…there.

Then he’d come home and she was dating Philip and the sense of loss had him gutted.

He should have told her how he felt then, only he’d been too proud to say, Okay, Abby, wise choice, I know at seventeen you need to date a few people, see the world.

He’d been too proud to say that seeing her and Philip together had made him wake up to himself. Had made him realise that the sexiest, loveliest, funniest, happiest, most desirable woman in the world was Abby.

He had known it. It was just… He thought he’d punish her a little. He and Ben had even been a bit cool to her-Ben had hated her dating Dexter as well.

They’d backed off. The night of the crash, where was Abby? Home, washing her hair?

Home, being angry with all of them.

That probably saved her life, but what was left afterwards…?

The sexiest, loveliest, funniest, happiest, most desirable woman in the entire world had been hidden under a load of grief so great it overwhelmed them all. Then she was hidden by layers of her parents’ hopes, their fixation that Abby could make up for Ben, and their belief that Philip was the Ben they couldn’t have.

He’d watched for ten years as the layers had built up, until the Abby he’d once known, once loved, had been almost totally subsumed.

And there was nothing he could do about it because he was the one who’d caused it.

He felt his fists harden on the steering wheel, so tight his knuckles showed white. One stupid moment and so many worlds shot to pieces. Ben and Sarah. And Abby, condemned to live for the rest of her life making up for his criminal stupidity.

‘You know I once loved you,’ he said into the night and she gasped and hugged Kleppy tighter.

‘Don’t.’

‘I won’t,’ he said gently. ‘I can’t. But, Abby, if I could wipe away that night…’

‘As if anyone could do that.’

‘No,’ he said grimly. ‘And I know I have to live with it for the rest of my life. But you don’t.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I mean you lost Ben that night,’ he said. ‘For which I’m responsible and I’ll live with that for ever. But Ben was my mate and if he could see what’s happening to you now he’d be sick at heart.’

There was a long silence. She wasn’t talking. He was trying to figure out what exactly to say.

He had no right to say anything. He’d forfeited that for sure, but then…

Forget himself, he thought. Forget everything except the fact that Ben had been his best friend and maybe he needed to put what he was feeling himself aside.

Make it about Ben, he told himself. Abby hated him already. Saying what he thought Ben would say couldn’t make things worse.

‘Abby, your parents and Dexter’s parents are thick as thieves,’ he told her. ‘They always have been. After the accident, your families practically combined. The Dexters had Philip. The Callahans were left only with Abby. Two families, a son and a daughter. When Ben died you were about to go to university and study creative arts. Afterwards, Philip told you how sensible law was. Your mother told you how happy it’d make her to see you at the same law school as Philip. Philip’s dad told you he’d welcome you into his law firm. And you just…rolled.’

‘I did not roll,’ she said but it was a whisper he knew didn’t even convince herself.

‘You used to wear sweaters with stripes. You used to wear purple leggings. I loved those purple leggings.’

Silence.

‘I never saw you wear purple leggings after Ben died.’

‘So I grew up.’

‘We all did that night,’ he said gravely. ‘But, Abby, you didn’t just leave behind childhood. You left behind…Abby.’

‘If you mean I left behind stupidity, yes, I did,’ she snapped. ‘How could I not? All those years… Keep away from the Finn boy. He’s trouble. That’s what my mother said but I never listened. Not once did I listen and neither did Ben, and now he’s dead.’

He couldn’t answer that.

The car nosed its way down the mountain. He could drive faster. He didn’t.

Keep away from the Finn boy.

He knew Ben and Abby had been given those orders. He even knew why.

His grandfather’s drunkenness. His mother’s lack of a wedding ring. His family’s poverty.

The prissiness of Abby’s parents, secure in their middle class home, with their neat front lawn and their nice children.

‘I dunno about the Callahan kids.’ He remembered Gran saying it when he was small as she tucked him into bed. ‘You be careful, Raff, love. They don’t fit with the likes of us.’

‘They’re my friends.’

‘And they’re nice kids,’ his gran had said. ‘But one day they’ll move on. Don’t let ’em break your heart.’

As a kid, he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. He’d figured it out as he got older, but Ben and Abby never let it happen. They simply ignored their parents’ disapproval and he was a friend regardless.

But for how long? If Ben hadn’t died…would Abby have gone out with him again?

And now she was a defence lawyer and he was a cop. Never the twain shall meet.

Except she was staring ahead with eyes that were blind with misery and she was heading into a marriage with Dexter and he couldn’t bear it.

‘I’m not talking about us now,’ he said, and it was hard to keep his voice even. ‘As you say, we’ve both grown up and there’s so much baggage between us there’s never going to be a bridge to friendship. But I’m not talking about me either, Abby. I’m talking about you. You and Dexter. He’s burying you.’

‘He’s not.’

‘Mrs Philip Dexter. Where’s the Abby in that equation?’

‘Leave it.’

‘You know it’s true. Would Mrs Philip Dexter ever spend the night trawling Banksia Bay looking for a dog?’

‘Of course she would.’ She gulped. ‘No. That is…I’ll hang onto Kleppy from now on.’

‘And if Dexter leaves the door open?’

‘He won’t.’

‘Don’t do it, Abby.’

‘Butt out.’ They were pulling up outside her house. She shoved the door open and hauled Kleppy out. She staggered a little, but straight away he was beside her, steadying her.

She was so…so…

She was Abby. All he wanted to do was fold her into his arms and hold her. Dog and all.

He’d had ten years to stop feeling like this. He thought he had.

One stupid night hunting a kleptomaniac dog and he was feeling just what he’d felt ten years ago. As if here was the half to his whole. As if something had been ripped out of him ten years back and this woman was the key to getting his life back.

This wasn’t about him. It couldn’t be.

‘There are lots of guys out there, Abby,’ he said in a voice that was none too steady. ‘Guys who’d marry you in a heartbeat. Guys who’d love Kleppy. Don’t marry Dexter.’

‘Get out of my way.’

‘You’re better than this, Abby.’

‘We’ve had this conversation before. Philip’s better than any of us. He wasn’t stupid. He’s dependable.’

‘He’s boring. He doesn’t like this town.’

‘How can you say that? He lives for this town.’

‘He spends his life criticising it. Making reasons why he should go to conferences far away. Where are you going on your honeymoon?’

‘You’re suggesting we should honeymoon at Mrs Mac’s Banksia Bay’s Big Breakfast?’

‘No, but…’

‘That’s what I’d have done if I’d married you.’

Her words shocked them both.

If I’d married you…

The unsayable had just been said.

The unthinkable had just been put out there.

‘Abby…’

‘Don’t,’ she said and pushed and Kleppy got caught in the middle and yelped his indignation. ‘Now see what you’ve done.’

Kleppy wagged his tail. Wounded to the core.

‘Think about it,’ he said, but softly, knowing he’d gone too far; he’d pushed into places neither of them could contemplate going.

‘I’ve thought about it. Thank you very much for your help tonight.’

‘Any time, Abby, and I mean that.’

‘I’ve accepted all the help from you I’ll ever accept.’

‘You can’t say that. What if you need help over the street in your old age? There I’ll be in my fading cop uniform, all ready to hold up the traffic, and there you’ll be with your pride and your walking frame. Don’t you stop the traffic for me, young man…’

She gasped and choked, laughter suddenly surfacing at the image.

‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Abby, can we be friends?’

Friends. She looked at him and the laughter faded. Her eyes were indescribably bleak.

‘No.’

‘Because of Ben?’

‘Because of much, much more than that.’

‘Don’t go near the Finn boy. He’s trouble?’ he said.

‘More than that, too,’ she whispered. ‘You know I… You know we…’

He didn’t know anything, and he couldn’t bear it. She was looking at him with eyes that were so bleak the end of the world must be around the corner, not the marriage of the year, Banksia Bay’s answer to a royal couple-a wedding that had been planned almost since she was a baby.

She hesitated for just a fraction of a second too long and logic and reason and everything else he should be thinking flew straight out of the window.

He took her shoulders in his hands. He tugged her to him-dog included-and he kissed her.

One minute she was angry and confused, intending to wheel away and stalk into the house, dignity intact.

The next minute she was being kissed by Raff Finn and her dignity was nowhere.

Second time in two days? She felt as if her body had opened to this two days ago and she’d been waiting for a repeat performance ever since.

Only this wasn’t a repeat performance. Tonight she’d been scared and lonely and emotional, remembering so much stuff that her head was close to exploding even before Raff’s mouth met hers.

It was no wonder that when it did she couldn’t handle it.

She liked control. She was a control girl. Her emotional wiring was neat and orderly.

His mouth touched hers and every single fuse blew, just like that.

Her circuits closed down and every one of the emotions she’d been feeling during the night was replaced, overridden by one gigantic wire that sizzled and sparked and threatened to blow her tidy existence right out of the water.

Raff Finn was kissing her.

She was kissing Raff Finn.

Or…maybe she wasn’t kissing. She was simply dissolving into him.

Ten long years of control, ten years of carefully recreating her life, was forgotten. All she could feel was this man. His hands. His mouth. The taste of him, the smell, the sheer testosterone-laden charge of him.

Raff. The man who was kissing her totally, unutterably, mind-blowingly senseless.

She had sensations within her right now that she didn’t know existed. She didn’t know feeling like this was possible. If she had…

If she had, she’d have gone hunting for them with elephant guns.

Oh…

Did she gasp? Did she moan?

Who knew? All she knew was that her mouth was locked on his and the kiss went on and on and she didn’t care. She didn’t care that it was three in the morning and she was engaged to Philip Dexter and Raff Finn was a man her family hated. Raff Finn, six foot two, was holding her and kissing her until her toes curled, until her mind was empty of anything but the taste of him.

This was a pure primeval need. It had nothing to do with logic. It had everything to do with here and now. And Raff-a man she’d wanted since she was eight years old.

Here, now and…and…

‘Is that you? Abigail?’

Uh-oh.

This was Banksia Bay.

It was three in the morning.

She lived next door to Ambrose Kittelty and Ambrose watched American sports television all night on Pay TV-as well as watching out of his front window.

Banksia Bay. Where her life was never her own. Could never be her own.

‘It’s Abby all right.’ Somehow, Finn was putting her away from him and she could have wept. To have him so close… To know she could never… Must never…

‘Is she kissing you?’ Mr Kittelty sounded almost apoplectic.

‘Bit of trouble with a dog,’ Raff said smoothly. ‘I’m helping the lady get him under control.’

‘You looked like…’

‘Took two of us to get him settled. Seems okay now. You right, ma’am?’

‘That’s Abrahams’ dog,’ Ambrose said.

‘Yes, sir, the same dog that took your boot from the bowling club,’ Finn said. ‘Still causing trouble.’

‘Get him put down,’ Ambrose said and slammed down the window.

‘I didn’t know Ambrose and Phil were related,’ Raff said and any last vestige of passion disappeared, just like that.

She felt cold and tired and stupid. Very, very stupid.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ she said, and she couldn’t keep the weariness from her voice. ‘Don’t…’

‘Come near you any more?’

‘That’s right,’ she whispered. ‘There’s too much at stake.’

‘Your marriage to Philip?’

‘You know it’s much more than that.’

‘First things first, Abby,’ he said softly. ‘Figure the marriage thing out and everything else can come later.’

‘Not with you, it can’t.’

‘I know that.’

‘So goodnight,’ she said and she hugged her dog close-a wild dog this, he hadn’t even wriggled while her brain had been short-circuiting-and she walked inside with as much dignity as she could muster.

She closed the door as if she was trying not to wake a household.

There was no household. Just Abby and Kleppy and one magnificent wedding dress.

‘What will I do?’ she whispered and she leaned back against the closed door. ‘Kleppy, help me out here.’

Kleppy’s butt wriggled until she set him on the floor. He headed into the bedroom while she stood motionless, trying not to think.

Kleppy headed straight back to her. Carrying her jewellery box.

He set it down at her feet and wriggled all over.

See? She had a guy who’d steal for her.

What more did a girl want?

Raff drove half a mile before he pulled over to the side of the road. He needed time to think.

He didn’t have the head space to think.

Abby, Abby, Abby. Ten years…

He’d been busy telling Abby she should move on. Could he?

He’d dated other women-of course he had. He’d set himself up with a life, of sorts. Living in this town. Keith, his partner, was getting long in the tooth. Keith was senior sergeant but, for all intents and purposes, Raff was in charge of the policing in this town. When Keith retired, Raff would be it.

Not bad for a Boy Who Meant Trouble.

He was still judged by some in this town, but only as someone whose background made people sniff, who’d been stupid in his youth. He was accepted as a decent cop. Sarah had friends, support groups, the farm she loved.

He had everything he needed in life, right there.

Except Abby.

How did you tell a woman you loved her?

He couldn’t. To lay that on her… There was no way she could take it anywhere. They both knew that.

This thing between them…

He shouldn’t have kissed her. It reminded him that it was more than a kid’s dreaming. It was as real today as it had been the first time he’d kissed her. Life had been ahead of them, exciting, wonderful. Anything had been possible.

But to love Abby now…

She’d closed herself off. After Ben’s death she’d simply shut down, retired into her parents’ world, into Philip’s world, and she’d never emerged. She was junior partner in Banksia Bay’s legal firm. She was Philip’s fiancée. Next Saturday she’d be Philip’s wife.

The waste…

Do you want to marry her yourself?

The thought was enough to make him smile, only it wasn’t a happy smile. He’d faced facts years ago. Even if she could shake off the past, to live with her parents’ condemnation, with the knowledge that every time she looked at him she was seeing Ben…

They’d destroy each other.

A couple of kids drove past-Lexy Netherland driving his dad’s new Ford. He bet Old Man Netherland didn’t know Lexy was out on the tear. He had Milly Parker in the passenger seat. They’d be going up the mountain, to the lookout. Only not to look out.

Kids, falling in love.

He could put the sirens on, pull ’em over, send ’em home with their tails between their legs.

No way could he do that. It wasn’t long before they’d be adults. The world would catch up with them and they’d be accepting life as it had to be.

As he had.

Loving Abby. Then Ben’s death. Then the other side, where the woman he loved could never find the courage to move on.

He knew she was having doubts-how could he kiss her and not sense it? Maybe if he pushed harder he could stop this marriage. But then what? What would he be doing to her?

He’d pushed her already to look seriously at the life she was facing. There was nothing else he could do. For Ben. For himself.

He put his head on the steering wheel and thumped it. Hard. Three times.

The third time he hit the horn and the dogs in Muriel Blake’s backyard started barking to wake the dead.

Time to move on, then?

Back to Sarah.

Back home.

Where to move forward in this town?

There was never a forward.