Ching- Ling Lim
NEXT OF KIN
© 2010
Crafty Lion Publications
Sarah Hatfield has gotten her life back under control. The Espial is undergoing a structural change and she’s finally found suitable accommodation for her disabled sister. All is running smoothly until she hits a snag - she's pregnant. Suddenly, her world is turned upside down once more and the pregnancy isn't the only problem.
Karen Gribbin calls the Espial when her daughter, Beth Teffry, runs away from home. It should be a straightforward case of lost and found but, as Sarah and the Espial agents discover, Beth doesn't want to be found. In fact, she's threatening to kill herself if her mother ever finds out where she is.
Things aren't as they seem and Sarah soon begins to realise what being a mother is really all about ...
PROLOGUE
I sat patiently in the doctor’s office, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test. Given the amount of vomiting I had been experiencing, I had taken the test through an over-the-counter pregnancy kit which had returned a positive result. However, knowing the possibility of human error, I decided to seek a second opinion from a doctor friend of mine, Di Hunter, before I informed Jason. I was well aware of his concern for my well-being and knew that seeing my friend would confirm things.
I stared up into the ceiling, wondering what on earth I was doing here. Did I really want to know if I was pregnant? What if the test was a false indication of pregnancy and turned out to be something more serious? That in itself was the small possibility and I had read horrors of women thinking they were pregnant and learning they had something else. The thoughts in my mind was overflowing with possibilities and I almost experienced cold feet just sitting there, waiting for Di to return from her laboratory. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened and she returned to her seat.
‘Well, Sarah,’ she began with a smile. ‘I can tell you one thing for sure. The pregnancy kit you purchased from the pharmacy wasn’t faulty.’
I breathed an inward sigh of relief and Di noticed.
‘You can tell Jason he’s about to become an expectant dad,’ she beamed, leaning back in her chair.
‘Yes, but telling him is one thing. How he reacts to the news is another thing entirely,’ I chuckled slightly in anticipation to which Di frowned.
‘Why? How do you think he’ll react?’
‘No idea,’ I answered then added hastily. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s quite receptive to having kids. It just that ... well ... this wasn’t exactly planned.’
Di nodded sagely.
‘It happens to a percentage of women who have been married for a number of years but, if Jason hasn’t given any indication he’s changed his mind about kids, then you shouldn’t have too much to worry about.’
CHAPTER 1
That was three months ago. As I lay down in my bed staring up at the ceiling, I placed a hand gently down my stomach and smiled blissfully. I could feel a slight yet firm elevation across my uterus and marvelled at the fact that there was actually something - or more specifically, someone - growing inside of me.
Jason had been more stunned by the news of the pregnancy than happy when I first told him but he had done nothing to resent the fact that in nine months time I was to bare his first child. As one would expect from a first time father-to-be, he questioned the truth of the test results with scepticism and, given that he was a criminal lawyer with a suspicious mind, I didn’t object to the pessimistic questions. He knew the approximate percentage of faulty pregnancy kits on the market and was more than cautious about me getting my hopes up. Of course, when I told him I had gone to see Di for a confirmation, all suspicions flew out the window and he picked me up by the waist with enthusiasm as we celebrated the conception of our first child.
Jason rolled over sleepily to face me and opened his eyes slowly. He then stared at my face for a few minutes before he peeked under the covers and his eyes travelled down my stomach where my hand rested. He returned his attention to my eyes and placed a hand on my face, gently brushing my hair back.
‘After three months, I still trying to get over the fact that my beautiful wife is carrying my child,’ he commented softly.
I turned to face him and smiled.
‘Yeah, you’re not the only one.’
‘So when do the hormones start taking over?’ he asked, cheekily to which at gently I whacked him one. ‘A bit too soon I see.’
We both laughed. I didn’t want to get out of bed. The thick feather quilt above two equally thick woollen blankets kept the bed nice and warm for the end of Adelaide’s cold winter and I was none too happy about exposing myself to the mid-teen temperature. I was never very tolerant to the cold and constantly suffered chilblains in my fingers and toes. This winter had been no exception and, while I normally dreaded placing my freezing fingers on any part of my body, the warmth of the quilt provided them with the pleasant sensation I craved. However, now that I had taken my hand out from under the covers, my arm was freezing and I once again buried it back under the cover to recover the warmth I had lost. Jason fumbled slightly under the covers until his hand found mine and he held it in his in hope of warming them further.
‘Cold,’ he observed. ‘You should stay in bed longer.’
I looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It had just ticked past nine.
‘That would be the ideal solution but work awaits,’ I replied regretfully.
‘Stay there,’ he ordered with a smile.
With that, he ripped his side of the covers off, jumped out of bed, slipped on his nightgown and padded out towards the hallway. I could heard a series of soft beeps before he returned to the bedroom and climbed on top of the covers and me. I could tell by the silly smile he was wearing that he had something planned in the next five minutes and I was in no mood to object. In fact I was looking forward to his intended ‘warm-up’.
‘Now, my darling Cold Frog,’ he began teasingly. ‘I will attempt to show you how to make most of your warm bed.’
With that he slipped off his gown and lay down on top of me, his face millimetres from mine. I had since returned to my prone position and looked up at him with a smile, knowing full well what he had in mind.
‘Oh? And exactly how hot is it going to get?’ I demanded, mischievously.
‘As if you really need to ask,’ he chuckled and we locked lips in a passionate kiss.
We eventually surfaced for air and I was beginning to feel much warmer. Jason stayed on top of me staring at my blue eyes. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly but he seemed more passionate towards me than before the news of the pregnancy. Whatever it was, I was enjoying it to the maximum and I wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip passed my fingers. Still, like most other things, all good things had to come to an end as I really need to get ready to go to the office before my investigators stared to worry what have happened to me. I mentioned this to Jason.
‘Just tell them you’re being held hostage by your husband,’ he grinned with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘And the demands for release would be ...?’ I questioned in mock seriousness.
‘The delivery of your child. No more, no less,’ was the reply and I couldn’t help but laugh.
‘A six-month hostage situation,’ I commented. ‘Now, that would have to be a record! I’d better get onto Marie quick smart then!’
Jason looked a little hurt.
‘I do all this for you and you want to escape the clutches of my over-protective ego?’ he sulked.
‘I’m afraid so,’ I shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m sure Tara would be wondering where her boss has gotten to.’
Tara McLaren was an associate Jason had hired just over four months ago. I had never met her personally but Jason seemed to think she was right for the job. Jason’s face dropped slightly at the mention of work. I had a feeling he wanted the passion between us to last. He sighed and climbed off me.
‘Yes, that’s one aspect I’d rather not face in the moment of pure ecstasy,’ he replied as he went to the wardrobe to retrieve a suit to wear.
Gingerly testing the temperature of the room, I too climbed out of bed to look for some comfortable clothes. I could never understand how anyone in the corporate world could forsake appearance and formality for comfort and body warmth.
‘Still,’ Jason continued as he pulled me up close, ‘I suppose I’ll have you all to myself when I return from work tonight.’
‘That’s the spirit!’ I cheered and kissed him.
I then pulled away from him and slipped on a black skivvy on top of my spencers.
‘I promise I’ll try and stay alive during the course of the day,’ I added.
Jason stopped buttoning up his shirt and looked at me, seriously.
‘I hope you’re not going to get yourself into too much danger,’ he commented, causing me to look at him.
‘I’m going to do what I’ve always been doing. I can’t just drop everything just because I’ve got a bun in the oven you know.’
‘Sarah,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t want to sound like an over-protective husband here but I really wish you’d start thinking about the well-being of the foetus as well as yourself.’
I took his words to heart, knowing full well neither of us had properly adjusted to the concept that we had an unborn child to think about. I slipped on my black pants and realised that the elastic around my waist was beginning to feel a little tight due to the anatomical expansion of my body. I returned my attention to him.
‘I’ll pass your concerns onto the Espial management,’ I promised him with another kiss. ’I’m sure they’ll keep me in check regarding that department.’
Jason still appeared unconvinced that it would make any difference but he let the matter go for the time being. Both of us had to get to work.
Rebecca Baker looked around the interior of her new home in a state of bewilderment and sighed. From the electric bed in which she lay, she observed the comings and goings of the nursing staff through the open sliding door. She had been fortunate that her single room was located opposite the nursing office meaning she could call out to the staff if she ever needed them. Not that her calling out achieved a great deal. When she opened her mouth, she usually emitted a strangling sound as a result of the head injury she had sustained three months prior.
She was rarely able to attract the attention of the staff on demand anyway as they were mainly elsewhere on the ward performing their individual nursing duties. It was something she wasn’t used too, having being an intelligence officer with the South Australian Police Force prior to her attack. The seriousness of the attack had left her completely paralysed with no head or neck support and robbed her of her ability to speak. She supposed she had been thankful that her injuries hadn’t been any worse. Sarah had told her that if the blow to her neck had been half an inch higher and she would have been forced to breathe through a ventilator.
Rebecca wondered what time of the day is was. The room in which she lay displayed no clock and, while she had her watch on, she was unable to look down at it for her right arm rested by her side out of view. She knew it was sometime mid-morning, given that the nurses had provided her with a bed sponge not too long ago. The fact that she hadn’t had breakfast yet meant that it was either close to eight o’clock or just past the hour. She gave an audible sigh and waited - waiting for something to happen. As if an answer to her prayers, the sound of footsteps alerted her out of her boredom and she glanced at the doorway expectantly. One of the nurses, Tess Ferguson, entered, smiling with a breakfast tray in her hands.
‘Rebecca, I hope you like Wheetbix,’ she greeted.
Rebecca just pointed her eyes to the ceiling in response. To an outsider, Rebecca’s eye movements might have appeared to be a rather rude gesture. However, two days ago, the speech pathologist had helped her devise a communication system using eye movements. In Rebecca’s case, pointing her eyes to the ceiling indicated that she agreed with what was being said. If she disagreed, she had been told to blink once. If she wanted to say any more, there was always the communication board the ward clerk had typed up for her. She blinked several times, indicating that more needed to be said than the standard yes-no answer. Tess picked up the board and began verbally calling out the numbers which corresponded with the letters in which Rebecca wanted to focus on. The fact that the alphabet had been divided into five columns with five letters in each made it easier to focus on the letters at hand.
SIT ME UP, PLEASE? Rebecca spelt out. TO LOW.
She was feeling somewhat uncomfortable in the position she was in anyway. Tess obliged and grabbed hold of the electric controls from the side of the bed. Rebecca waited until the headrest was at the right height before she pointed her eyes upwards once again. Tess then proceeded to feed her breakfast.
‘Feel like getting up today?’ she asked.
Rebecca had only been in the Sunscope Disability Center for three days and had only just been fitted with a new wheelchair. She had yet to get out of bed, citing fear of transfer as the reason for doing so. She debated the issue for sometime and wondered if Sarah was going to visit her that afternoon. Sarah had so far spent the last two afternoons with her and she soon decided that maybe she could surprise her sister by sitting out of bed for a few hours. She pointed her eyes heavenwards. There was no time like the present. The sooner she tried out her chair, the more likely she’d actually get used to it.
Adam Lindelof looked around the room and shook his head, sighing. The room wasn’t as clean as he had hoped but he concluded that it would have been due to the fact that he was the newest Espial recruit and the room itself had barely been used since the building was purchased eight months ago. While he stood in the middle of the room waiting for Chelsea Sorensen to return with a mop and bucket, he thought about his recent acceptance into the Espial as a First Aider.
He had been introduced to the Espial a month ago by an old school friend of his, Gemma Abbott, who was the Espial’s logistics officer. He had heard stories from Gemma about Sarah’s work methods and was more than a little apprehensive about joining the team. However, Gemma had assured him that the Espial needed a First Aider of some sort by law and that Sarah would have to agree to let him into the team. Of course, like applying for all jobs, Adam was expected to obtain a Police Clearance Record to prove he wasn’t a hardened criminal. Sarah had even offered to give him a few of her police contacts to help him obtain the information he needed. Then there was the Oath and the interview panel. The Oath itself was the easy part since all he had to do was memorize it. He didn’t exactly agree with what was written in the Oath but a job was a job and it was something he was in desperate need off. The interview panel, on the other hand, was something he would rather not have gone through. The panel consisted of Sarah herself, a former state police surveillance expert, a Army Reserve Military Police Major and a former spy with ASIO.
His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps and someone suddenly knocked on the door. Adam turned around and found himself facing the Espial secretary who handed him the mop and a bucket full of water.
‘There you go,’ she replied. ‘Sorry, the room’s not quite up to standard. We’ve been pretty busy in the past few months.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about it,’ Adam shrugged casually. ‘I’m just glad you had an extra room I could use as a First Aid Room.’
‘Well, Sarah’s pretty pragmatic in that respect,’ Chelsea smiled. ‘She bought this four-storey building for that sole purpose - expansion. God knows how much renovation we’ll need in the next couple of months.’
‘Renovation?’ was Adam’s curious reply.
‘We’re only occupying the first level at the moment. Sooner or later, we’re going to have to move up to the other three floors to see what the state of the rooms are like there.’
‘Why doesn’t she just rent them out for the time being?’ Adam queried. ‘I mean, if she doesn’t have time to even check them she should at least have some sort of fall back plan.’
‘She’s pregnant at the moment,’ Chelsea informed him with a chuckle. ‘Do you want to suggest it to her?’
Adam just smiled. He knew what the hormones of pregnant women were like.
‘Anyway, I’d better get back to work,’ Chelsea apologised. ‘I’ve still got a couple of reports to type up. I’ll send someone down to give you a hand if you need one.’
‘It’s okay. I’ll be fine for the time being. I’ll give you a holler if I need anything.’
Chelsea smiled and left the room. Adam set about mopping the room. He was surprised to discover just how much dirt had accumulated over the past eight months and made it his mission to make the suggestion of renting the other three floors out to Sarah as soon as she arrived. He predicted that she would probably bite his head off for no apparent reason but at least he would have had made the suggestion and given her something to think about. He had mopped about half the room when someone entered.
‘Don’t come in! It’s still wet!’ Adam uttered a sharp warning.
He noticed the leather shoes and his eyes travelled up the person’s body before finally rested on the face of - Sarah. He gulped.
~~~
I let my foot hang mid-air when I had heard the startled warning from our newly recruited first aid officer. I watched closely as his eyes travelled up my somewhat expanded body and I suddenly felt very vulnerable by the gesture. I slowly retracted my foot and placed it cautiously onto a dry spot on the floor. Raising my eyebrows slightly, I noticed that Adam had suddenly stopped what he had been doing to just stare at me.
‘Yes?’ I demanded somewhat harshly.
Adam blinked and just stood there. It took him some time before he gained enough courage to say anything in return.
‘Sorry, I ... um ... I didn’t mean to snap at you,’ he apologised with a stutter. ‘I’ve just mopped the floor and ... well ... you were about to step in and ...’
I just rolled my eyes with an exacerbated sigh. Adam fiddled about with the mop but otherwise stood where he was. I decided that his visual appraisal of my body could be let off just this once. I glanced around the room and noticed how dirty it had become. Adam had a fairly good job of the cleaning it up so far.
‘You like your new office?’ I asked.
‘Well, I can’t complain,’ he shrugged once he had found his tongue to which I just nodded.
‘Not a bad job.’
‘Thank you, Ma’am,’ he replied with relief. ‘Actually, can I make a suggestion?’
I appraised him with suspicion, wondering what it was he had in mind.
‘Go on ...’
‘I was wondering,’ he began, then appeared to notice my expression. ‘Well, I mean ... this room was fairly dirty when I first came here and Chelsea mentioned how you guys haven’t touched the other three floors of this building.’
‘I wouldn’t exactly say we haven’t touched the other three floors,’ I replied casually, wondering where this conversation was heading.
It was true. When I first purchased the building eleven months ago, I had given myself a quick tour to ascertain the layout of the building. Admittedly, it had been a quick tour and I hadn’t set foot upstairs since. I vaguely wondered if the elevators still worked.
‘Yes, well,’ Adam fiddled with the mop once more. ‘Um ... I was wondering what you thought about renting out the other three floors.’
I just stared at him in disgust. He had only just arrived and already he was telling me how to run my business. Who did he think he was?
‘When you have been in the Espial long enough, maybe you then can consider making that decision that will effect the expansion of the business,’ I retorted hotly. ‘In the meantime, I suggest you get this place cleaned up and learn our policies.’
With that, I turned on my heel and scrolled down the corridor.
~~
Adam blinked as he watched Sarah took her leave but wasn’t all that surprised by her reaction. At least she had heard what he had to say. He was about to remind her that it was only a suggestion but he figured that that particular comment would be likely to fall on deaf ears. Giving a sigh in temporary defeat, he continued mopping the floor. He knew that once Sarah came to her senses, she would begin to see that his suggestion was one of the better ideas.
CHAPTER 2
‘He does have a point, you know,’ Lyn Tyson remarked, leaning casually in the leather chair opposite my desk in my office.
A slim five foot niner, she was the only other person in the building who also had police experience. My other four investigators were either defence force personnel, former intelligence officers or school-leavers. Lyn was wearing a cream-coloured trouser suit with black laced-up business shoes.
When I left the police force, I immediately began setting up business in the private sector. I had already gained my licence several years ago during one of my numerous annual leaves and it was pure coincidence that the building had been up for auction at the time of my departure from the police force. A former state police officer who specialised in electronic surveillance, Lyn had been the second person to apply for a position here after Mike Abraham.
‘Oh, does he now?’ I retorted testily, rearranging the papers on my desk.
We were discussing Adam’s suggestion of renting out the other three unoccupied floors of the Espial building and I was more than a little adamant about not letting some rookie with little crime fight experience decide how to run my business - especially one who had only just start working with us an hour ago. I was still a little disgruntled about the first aider’s visual appraisal of my body and I was less than impressed to hear that Lynette actually agreed with him. Lyn gave an exacerbated sigh.
‘Sarah, think of it of a business agreement,’ she began. ‘Renting out the floors could ease us of any financial burden we may face in the near future.’
‘Are you saying that I’m running this business to the ground?’ I challenged the older woman in front of me, looking straight into her eyes.
‘Of course not!’ my partner returned, ‘Just listen to yourself! You’re making it sound like you’re the only one in this business and no one else’s ideas matter.’
She looked straight back at me and for a moment we locked glares. Two stubborn persons in both command positions was always a tense situation but this time, Lyn’s reasoning won over and I didn’t even know what came over me. I leaned back in my chair and sighed.
‘What have you got in mind?’ I asked.
‘Me? You should be asking Lindelof that.’
‘I know you better,’ I shrugged. ‘I trust your judgement. I barely know Lindelof or his ideals.’
‘Fair enough. I suggest we start cleaning the three other floors and put them up for lease. If the rooms up there are anything like Lindelof’s office, I doubt any potential buyers will be interested in taking residence there.’
I thought about it then nodded. Renting out the three floors meant we would succeed in a fair amount of financial gain which would be put to good use once we expanded the business. In short, any additional expenses would be utilised with the rent money we received from our commercial clients.
‘Right, send whoever you need to help you get the place cleaned up,’ I informed her, then added noticing the surprised expression on her face. ‘Well, you didn’t think you could get away with it, did you? It was your suggestion.’
‘Um ... what about the business?’
‘It’s okay. I’ll give you a holler when I need your expertise. Although given the most recent case, I don’t think there’s too much surveillance needed.’
‘What sort of case is it?’ Lynette frowned curiously.
‘Missing persons,’ I informed her just as my intercomm buzzed. ‘Yes, Chelsea?’
‘Sarah, Karen Treffry is here to see you,’ my secretary announced.
‘Thanks, send her in,’ I turned to Lyn. ‘Did you want to stay or get on with the cleaning?’
Lyn chuckled slightly.
‘I guess I’d better go on with the mop and bucket then,’ she grinned, getting up from her seat. ‘After all, it was my idea.’
She headed to the door and nearly bumped into Chelsea who had entered the office to announce my client’s arrival. She smiled politely at my client before side-stepping them both and disappearing down the corridor.
Karen Treffry was a woman with a small frame in her mid-forties. The more I looked at her, the more she reminded me of a smaller version of the American Eagle with her piercing blue eyes and slightly curved nose. Her greying brunette hair cascaded down her narrow face which rested wearily on her thin shoulders. On the whole, she looked somewhat fragile which, given the circumstances was completely understandable. I stood up from my chair and approached the shorter woman in a non-threatening manner, holding out my outstretched hands in greeting.
‘Mrs Hatfield,’ she greeted taking my hand and shaking it. ‘Thank you so much for seeing me on short notice.’
‘My pleasure, Mrs Treffry,’ responded.
I debated whether to allow the older woman in front of me to address me by my first name but eventually decided against it. Professionalism begged for respect and it hardly seemed respectfully to address someone - particularly a client nearly twice my age - by their first name. I gestured for her to have a seat before returning to my position behind my desk and leaning back casually in my chair.
‘So, Mrs Treffry, what can I do for you? You mentioned to my secretary that someone close to you has gone missing,’ I began, studying Karen closely.
Karen nodded and sighed.
‘Yes, it’s my Beth you see,’ she explained. ‘She’s gone missing for about a day now and she hasn’t rung home.’
‘Have you reported this to the police?’ I asked with a frown.
‘Oh, no,’ Karen responded slightly shocked. ‘I couldn’t possibly bother them with my problems. They have enough social injustices to worry about without adding mine to their list.’
I managed to refrain from smiling at Karen. This was obviously a case of a member of the public being afraid that they would be wasting police resources by requesting for help. I was about to point out to her that all missing persons were regarded as a need for concern but, given that it had only been a day since Beth’s disappearance and that I wanted to do some form of work without Marie’s interference, I decided against it. Besides, locating a missing person wasn’t all that difficult. All one needed was the right contacts.
‘What can you tell me about the day she disappeared?’ I queried.
‘Well, I returned from work one evening and found her gone, just like that. Not a note, nothing,’ she answered, then gave another sigh. ‘She’s such a good kid. Why would she want to run away?’
Rebecca was scared. Here she was, about to be transferred into her chair using a full-body sling and she had no control of the situation whatsoever. She hated not having any control. The curtains to the large pane windows had been drawn across to provide her with the privacy she had insisted on. As she waited for the nurses to arrive, she wondered what they thought of her, laying there unable to move anything but her facial muscles. Presently, the door to her single room slid open and two nurses entered with an electric lifter in tow. Tess slid the door close behind her while the other - Jax Crowley, according to his name badge - approached one side of the bed. He rubbed his hands in enthusiasm.
‘Right, the eagle is about to fly,’ he announced good-naturedly. ‘Have you been up in the air before, Rebecca?’
Rebecca was about to inform him that she had done so once in the presence of the physiotherapist the day before but soon decided it would take too long to tell him. Instead, she settled for a simple blink - no. Jax nodded and began to explain what they were about to do.
‘Okay, Tess and I are going to roll you over to me while we tuck the sling under you,’ he informed her. ‘Then we’ll roll you over to her and flatten the sling out so we can get you hooked up. Any questions?’
Rebecca just looked at him, ridiculously. What did he really expect her to say anything without the communication board? Jax just grinned.
‘I didn’t think so,’ he chuckled. ‘Ready?’
Rebecca’s eyes shot upwards. It was now or never. Both nurses proceed to tuck the sling under her torso and Rebecca felt her head flop back as she was turned. Her eyes flew open in mild shock but eventually relaxed when she realised it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as she expected it would be. She was then rolled back as both nurses proceeded to explain the next stage to her.
‘Now, we thread the sling under your legs and hook you up to the lifter,‘ Tess began to which Rebecca just agreed.
The lift off the bed wasn’t quite so bad as Rebecca expected it to be. Unfortunately, both nurses forgot about her head again and it flopped back over the top of the sling in a rather inelegant fashion. Rebecca gave a verbal cry of protest before feeling her head being gently brought forward again in support.
‘Sorry,’ Jax apologised. ‘I was concentrating on your legs.’
‘He always concentrates on the ladies legs,’ Tess replied, teasingly in an attempt to ease Rebecca’s obvious anxiety. ‘Don’t take too much notice of him.’
Rebecca couldn’t help but chuckle at Tess’ remark and almost ended up in a coughing fit. Thankfully, she had already been lowered into her wheelchair - her head supported by the headrest fixed to the back of the chair - and Jax proceeded to tuck the sling under her torso to make her look more presentable.
‘Don’t choke on us now,’ Jax winked, tilting the chair backwards slightly to adjust Rebecca’s centre of gravity. ‘I’d hate to do the paperwork for it.’
‘Especially since we’ve only had you for a couple of days,’ Tess added with a smile as she did up Rebecca’s seatbelt that prevented her from falling.
They had witnessed Rebecca’s ability to spasm unexpectedly several times already and weren’t going to take any chances while she was in her chair. Rebecca just stared at them in horror then had to remind herself that it was only a form of humour nurses indulged themselves in to help them get through the day. She’d get used to it eventually, she told herself. She’d experienced a similar sort of humour during her days in the force. She sighed. She missed those days.
‘Is it true you used to be a copper?’ Jax asked as if to read her mind.
Rebecca’s eyes went up.
‘CIB?’ Blink. ‘Patrol?’ Blink. ‘Well, what else is there?’
Rebecca rolled her eyes at him and blinked several times as Tess retrieved her communication board. Did they know so little about the police force?
INTELLIGENCE, she spelt out.
‘Desk job then,’ Tess replied. ‘What rank were you?’
SENIOR SERGEANT
‘Impressive,’ was the smiling reply which Rebecca returned.