Abby and the Bachelor Cop

Philip. Smiling. The model citizen.

Raff. Grim and stoic. The bad boy.

She was a mess of conflicting emotion. She was trying to get things clear but it was like wading into custard. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay here a moment longer.

‘Excuse me,’ she said to the men beside her. ‘I need to go.’

‘Where?’ Philip said, astounded.

‘To check on Kleppy. He gets into trouble alone.’

‘You can’t walk out-to check on a dog.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Not just to check a dog. Much, much more.’

She rose and the eyes of the court were on her. Too bad. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but there was no way in the world she could sit here any longer.

‘Bye,’ she said, to the courtroom in general.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Philip snapped, and she looked at him for a long moment and then she shook her head.

‘I won’t. Not any more. Bye, Philip.’

She lifted up the glossy Italian briefcase from under the desk, swiftly checking she had the right discreet initials, and she strode out of the court. Her pert black shoes clicked on the floor as she walked, and she didn’t look back once.

Raff paused in the entrance, to take a few deep breaths, to think there was no one to punch.

He’d wanted to punch Dexter for maybe ten years. He couldn’t. Good cops didn’t punch defence lawyers. Dexter was just doing his job.

Another deep breath.

‘Raff.’

He turned and Abby was closing the courtroom door. Leaning against it. Closing her eyes.

‘Hey,’ he said and she opened her eyes and met his gaze. Full on.

‘Hey.’ She sounded like someone just waking up.

‘You taking a break?’

‘I need to go home and check Kleppy.’

‘Fair enough.’ He hesitated. Thought about offering her a ride. Thought that might be a bad idea.

Her sports car was close, in the place marked Abigail Callahan, Solicitor. Her spot was closer than the one marked Police. It wasn’t as close as Dexter’s though. Dexter and the Judge had parking spaces side by side.

Dexter’s Porsche was the most expensive car in the car park.

Get through the other side of anger, he told himself harshly. Was there another side?

Abby had passed him now, walking into the sunlight to her car. She raised her briefcase to lay it in the passenger seat. Hesitated.

She lowered her briefcase. Fiddled with the catch.

Raised it again. Tipped.

Papers went everywhere, a sprawl of legal paperwork fluttering in the sunlight. And tapes. A score of tiny audio cassettes.

‘Whoops,’ she said as tapes went flying.

The Abigail Callahan he’d known for the last ten years would never say whoops.

But she didn’t look fussed. She didn’t move. She didn’t begin to pick anything up.

He didn’t move either. He wasn’t sure what was going on.

‘You know, these should probably be picked up,’ she said. ‘They might be important.’ Might they?

‘I’m sorry to trouble you, but I seem to have taken the wrong briefcase,’ she said, sounding carefully neutral. ‘But I’m in such a hurry… Would you mind putting the stuff back in and returning it to Philip?’

What the…?

‘There’s no rush,’ she continued. ‘Philip has his notes on the desk so he won’t miss these for a while. Maybe you could go back to the station to sort them into order before you give them back. I’m sure Philip would think that was a kindness.’

She sighed then, looking at the mess of tapes and paperwork. ‘This is what comes of having matching briefcases,’ she said. ‘They’re so easy to mix up. I told Philip it was a bad idea-I did want a blue one. But at least I do know this is Philip’s-because of the tapes. Philip always records his client appointments. He’s a stickler for recording…everything. He always has. My briefcase holds files for submission to court. Philip’s files and tapes are always in much more detail.’

They stood staring at each other in the sunlight. Abby…

‘The tapes, Raff,’ she said gently, and she gave him a wide, impudent smile. It was a smile he hadn’t seen for years. It made him feel… It made him feel…

As if Abby was back.

‘You’ll take care of them?’ she asked.

‘I…yes.’ What else was a man to say?

‘Have fun, then,’ she said and she climbed into her car. ‘I’m sure you will.’

He collected the tapes with speed-something told him it might be important to have them collected and be gone before Dexter realised the mix-up.

He thought about Abby.

He headed back to the station thinking about Abby.

Life was getting…interesting.

Have fun?

He should be thinking about tapes.

He was, but he was also thinking about Abby.

She went home, but only briefly. She changed into jeans, collected Kleppy and headed up the mountain.

She had some hard thinking to do, and it seemed the mountain was the place to do it. For a little bit she thought about Philip’s briefcase but by the time she reached the mountain she’d forgotten all about Philip. She’d moved on.

She parked out the front of Isaac’s place-the safest place to park. Kleppy whined against the fence and she cuddled him and thought…

Ben was here.

That was why she’d come. Ben had died up here, in the thick bushland on the mountain, a place that had magically been spared logging, where the gums were vast and the scenery was breathtaking. After all these years, suddenly it felt right that she was here with him. Her brother.

For the last ten years Ben had been lost, and she’d been empty.

With Kleppy carefully on the lead-who knew what he’d find here?-she walked along the side of the road where the crash had happened. The smells were driving Kleppy wild. He tugged to the place he’d been digging the night she and Raff had been here, but she pulled him away.

‘No wombat holes,’ she told him. ‘Sorry, Klep, but this trip is about me.’

She reached the foot of the crest. The road was incredibly narrow. The trees were huge-they were so close to the road.

Two cars colliding at speed… They’d never stood a chance.

She thought of that night. Of how they’d been before. Five kids. Fledgling love affairs. The things they’d all done.

Stupid kids, trying their wings. They’d been so sure they could fly. The only unknown was how far.

They’d been kids who thought they were invincible.

One stupid night.

She sank onto the verge at the side of the road and hugged her dog. ‘Raff’s right,’ she whispered, the emotions of the past two days kaleidoscoping and merging into one clear vision. ‘To forgive… That means he was wrong; the rest of us were right. That’s how we’ve acted and that’s what he’s worn. He’s accepted total blame.’