To Snatch a Thief (12 page)

Skye brought her eyes back to his. Probably half the planet, she thought. ‘Nope.’

‘Hmm.’ Hunter blew out a breath. ‘I’m giving you this chance, Forrester. Dawson’s a good snatcher; you can learn a lot from her. Just keep quiet, let her do the talking and listen.’

Nothing could dampen her spirits. ‘I will, I will,’ she assured him. ‘You can count on me, I promise.’ Without waiting to be dismissed, she spun on her heels and, raising her arms above her head, did a quick hip wiggle outside his office. It wasn’t until she glanced over her shoulder and caught his incredulous expression, she realised her mistake.
Oops
.

They inched through the snarl of traffic in silence. Every so often, Dawson cursed under her breath, drumming her fingers on the controls as lights changed against them or teenagers on air-scooters breached legal restrictions by skimming through pedestrians at breakneck speed. Privates were not allocated Darts and the cruiser had no flight facility, plus the seats were worn and stained in substances Skye didn’t want to think about.

Eventually though, still staring at the traffic ahead, Dawson tilted her head. ‘So, what’s it like, living in luxury?’

Skye looked over, surprised. ‘Um, the flat’s great.’

‘Hope they’ve done an inventory.’

She ignored the insult; she was too pleased to be out and about at last.

‘Hunter drop by often?’

‘No, not at all. What makes you say that?’

She shrugged a shoulder. ‘Payback. Thought he’d be collecting by now. If he’s not yet, he will soon.’ Skye didn’t personally know what a lemon tasted like, but she knew they were sour. Dawson looked like she’d been sucking on one for a week.

As she felt her face start to burn, Dawson glanced at her and sneered. ‘Oh come on. You’re not that naive surely. He watches you – a lot. At some point he’ll call in the favour. And don’t try and tell me you won’t take it; it’s the only way you’ll succeed in this job – on your back.’

If there weren’t a hundred witnesses on the footpaths Skye would have slapped her. As it was she raised her hand but Dawson saw a hole in the traffic ahead and yanked the cruiser out and forward, flinging her back in her seat. ‘What is it with you?’ Skye demanded. ‘What have I done to make you hate me so much?’

Dawson swivelled her head, raising an eyebrow as her eyes raked over Skye. ‘You really want to know? Okay, I’ll tell you. I hate everything you are: a free-loader with a hard luck story you wear as an excuse round your neck. Boo Hoo!’ She patted a hand to her heart before her face hardened further. ‘Don’t expect
my
heart to bleed. We all got problems. Suck it up. Go out and work instead of taking from people who do. Did you ever stop to think that might have been the last twenty globals the guy you robbed had in his wallet? He might look rich to you, but he’s probably mortgaged up to the hilt, hit with kid maintenance payments and screwed by his ex for every damn thing. Now he can’t even buy himself a coffee at lunch time.’

Skye opened her mouth, ready to fire back a brilliantly cutting retort, but none came to mind. Partly, because the snatcher had touched a raw nerve - she hadn’t thought about it before, but lately her conscience had been pricking - and partly because she could see it would be pointless to explain. Dawson saw things as either black or white, with no idea of what it was like to be raised in the slums: where men like her dad lined up in the cold with fifty others after a single job, but they stayed anyway because there was nowhere else to go. Where she’d learned to steal a handful of dollars from those she thought wouldn’t miss them, to keep her and her brother alive.

But Dawson was raving on; getting well into stride. ‘Know why I joined the Force? I joined to lock bludgers and thieves and those who prey on the innocent where they belong. And some idiot of a politician comes up with this asinine scheme, and now Hunter.’ She almost choked on the name. ‘Hunter, who dates the most beautiful woman on the planet…’ The thought had her shaking her head. ‘Goes mental, and manoeuvres a teenage slut right where he wants her – within easy reach.’

Skye’s heart sank at the thought everyone at HQ might think the same. ‘Bullshit,’ she snapped. ‘That’s absolute bullshit. You saw what happened to the Abbot’s. You know why he moved us out.’
And who the hell was he dating?

‘Yeah, conveniently to someplace where he has a master key.’

Temper firing, Skye rounded on her. ‘Well you can think what you like, but I’m telling you now, the only reason he watches me, if he watches me at all, is because he doesn’t trust me to go straight, and that’s God’s truth.’

‘Really? You don’t honestly believe that. C’mon, you’ve been around. You’ve got to know what effect you have on men. You know exactly what you’re doing flashing those big green come- to-bed-with-me-eyes. And the way you wear your hair, like you’ve just rolled out of the sheets. He’s male. Of course he’s going to be interested.’

Totally gobsmacked, Skye studied Dawson’s profile. Where had all that come from? Dawson was a bitch, she thought, but there was more here; some other reason for her loathing me.

Suddenly, with a flash, it came to her. ‘He turned you down, didn’t he? And you’re still teed off about it.’

She shrugged. ‘His loss, not mine.’

Eyes narrowed to slits, Dawson approached a junction at speed, leant on the horn as the lights changed and flew across the intersection without touching the brakes.

‘Look.’ Skye gasped, thinking they might get on better, and possibly survive, if they took Hunter out of the equation. ‘Despite what you think, I don’t sleep around. I don’t bother to flirt. In fact I’ve never even had a proper boy…’ she broke off as Dawson let out a hoot.

‘Well, that explains everything,’ she crowed. ‘Women might have had sexual equality for decades but, let’s face it, you’re every man’s secret fantasy. Wait till the others hear there’s an endangered species in our midst. We might put it on a tee-shirt.’

Still sniggering she swerved violently to the left and pulled into a residential street where she actually found the rarity of a parking space.

Glad
she
feels better, Skye grunted. But her happy mood was in tatters. She hung back as Dawson knocked on the first door, leant against the cruiser and kicked her heel against the tyre. Her hands were cold and she’d forgotten her hat so the tips of her ears were going numb. A dusting of snowflakes settled on her shoulders like dandruff.

Apart from different paintwork, the grey stone terraced houses on both sides of the street all looked the same. Three granite steps, swept clear of snow, led from the pavement directly to the front doors which each had a brass knocker and letterbox. On the opposite side of the road a lopsided snowman blocked the pavement outside a house with a navy blue door.

While she brooded, a movement caught her eye. A boy about Lexie’s age came out of it wrapped up warm against the cold in boots, anorak and woolly hat. In one gloved hand he held a knitted scarf which he began to wind around the snowman’s icy neck.

‘Keeping him warm?’ Skye called over and smiled as he looked up.

Several things happened in quick succession.

A door opened two houses down. A grey-haired old biddy in sheepskin slippers stepped out. Under her arm was a spiteful-looking Chihuahua.

Skye’s stomach muscles quivered as she saw the woman stride the short distance, grab hold of the small boy’s arm, and try to drag him along the pavement towards her front steps. ‘Hey!’

She’d fought with Lexie often - bedtime could be a battlefield. She saw the boy’s face darken into a familiar scowl equal to the hideous dog. He squirmed, kicking at the woman’s corduroy-covered ankles while the Chihuahua barked in rapid-fire, high-pitched yaps, mixed with murderous growls.

Pushing off from the vehicle Skye ran across the road. ‘What the fudge? What d’you think you’re doing? Leave him alone!’

The woman ignored her and tugged harder, all the while muttering some sort of weird incantation. Since cell regeneration had become standard practice it was impossible to tell people’s exact age but, whatever years this one has on the clock, Skye thought, she was strong.

‘Did you hear me? Let him go!’ Skye took hold of her elbow, but she did no more than swing her head round. ‘Oh, great.’ The pupils of her eyes were dilated, the expression blank.
Nobody home
. Events escalated then. The blue door yanked open and a woman – the boy’s mother Skye presumed - appeared at the top of the steps.

‘Jayden! Jayden, what’s going…? Oh, my God. Jayden.’ She started down the steps and slipped, landing heavily on her bum.

Across the street, Dawson turned and Skye saw her face boggle.

With audible clicks, the Chihuahua’s yellow teeth snapped inches from the little boy’s ear.

‘
Pestilence, plague, pandemic
,’ the woman intoned.

Skye had had enough. ‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ Curling her thumb across her palm, she made a fist over it and, in full view of the street’s twitching curtains, decked her.

In slow motion, the woman’s eyes rolled back in her head, her knees sagged and she toppled like a felled tree onto the wet pavement. The dog wriggled out from her grip and, coward that it was, ran back into the house yelping blue murder.

Small boys don’t fight under Queensbury Rules. He continued to kick at the woman while she was down, so Skye grabbed him by the collar, holding him at arm’s length while she whipped out her cadet ID card and waved it under the woman’s nose, hoping she couldn’t focus too clearly. ‘I’m arresting you for… Jayden, will you stop… attempted abduction of a minor,’ she announced. ‘You have the right to remain silent…’ Unable to remember any more, she finished with, ‘Dawson, tell the old bag she’s nicked.’

Dawson’s face was a picture. ‘What the hell have you done!’ she gasped.

.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Standing to attention beside Dawson in Hunter’s office, Skye chewed her lip and prayed. She’d just given her report and her heart was, at this minute, spiralling through the floor to the basement. Someone would find it there when they went to get their car.

Hunter’s head was in his hands. ‘Do you make a habit of punching old ladies in the face?’ he asked. She imagined the calm tone of his voice wasn’t going to last. Dawson’s delight at her discomfort was rolling off her in waves.

With nothing to lose, Skye lifted her chin. ‘There
were
special circumstances, sir. She was hurting him.’

His head rose slowly. ‘And you didn’t think to call Private Dawson over to assist? Knocking her unconscious was the only way you saw to restrain her?’

‘She was busy,’ Skye muttered, all hope of mercy dying. ‘And it all happened so fast. Then there was the dog. Did I mention the dog? Small but quite vicious… And.’ She attempted a smile that failed. ‘You’d have been proud of the punch, sir. You taught it to me yourself.’

Now his eyes blazed. He uncurled his long frame from his chair, leant forward with his fists on the table.

‘May I remind you of your tenuous position here, Forrester?’ he snarled. ‘How dare you take the law into your own hands when I specifically told you to take no active part other than to observe. Now I’ve got an eighty five year old woman with the medical examiner and a lot of explaining to do to the Captain.’ He wheeled away, flinging an arm in the air. ‘Do you want to lose your freedom? I suggest you think very carefully about your future.’

There was no way she’d let either of them see her cry, but tears were near the surface. Hunter gave her one last furious scowl. ‘Dawson, for God’s sake give me something positive from your interviews. Perhaps we can salvage
something
out of this debacle.’

‘Sir,’ Miss Goody-Two-Shoes reported, all pert and efficient. ‘One witness says on the night the letter bomb was posted, she put her cat out at around six thirty. She was sure of the time because the news had just come on. She looked up and saw someone – could have been a woman or a man, they were bundled up in a thick coat – coming towards her down the street.’ Dawson consulted her pocket recorder. ‘Says the man/woman stopped in the vicinity of number twenty eight and bent down. She thought he/she was tying a shoe lace so didn’t pay much attention. Couldn’t give a facial description, as the person had a woolly hat pulled down low and a scarf wrapped round the lower part of the face.

The witness said it was freezing cold, so she didn’t hang about. Everybody else I spoke to was cozied inside watching that new reality show:
Catwalk Queen
.’

‘Okay.’ Hunter stood. The CCTV shows the same image, but we’ll see if Technology can enhance it. See if we recognise anyone we know.’

There are weirdos and nutcases in every society. Ms Violet Templeton-Smyth turned out to be one of them. Skye was sure, in her twisted mind, her reasoning made sense. She was itching to interrogate her personally but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. However she was allowed to watch the interview from behind a two-way mirror.

Set in a soft, pink face, Violet’s blue eyes wheeled around the room then settled as Corporal Ryan and his partner, a female private, took their seats opposite. After tucking a stray curl of silver hair behind one ear, she clasped her hands in her lap. Around her neck hung a pretty gold crucifix. Along her jaw line, a bluish mark, with Skye’s name on it, was just beginning to show.

‘She looks like everybody’s favourite granny,’ Hunter remarked at Skye’s shoulder.

Although his tone was mild, she knew that could be deceptive, and wasn’t sure where she stood with him yet, so kept quiet. Also, Dawson’s remarks were weighing heavy on her mind. It was not that she believed, for one minute, he’d come calling, more the unexpected way her heart had fluttered at the thought he might.

‘How’s the hand?’ He was staring ahead, thumbs hooked in his trouser pockets.

‘Oh, um.’ Uncomfortable with her thoughts, especially with Hunter standing so close, she gave herself a sharp kick in the pants. ‘It’s okay.’ She flexed the fingers which were stiff where the knuckles had swollen. ‘What’s going to happen to me?’ she asked. ‘Am I in real trouble?’

‘Only if some smart lawyer advises Ms Templeton-Smyth to lodge a complaint. So far she hasn’t asked for one.’ He paused. ‘The boy’s parents think you should get a commendation.’