Sharon Archer - The Man Behind the Badge

He grinned as he saw Liz’s husband approaching. ‘Not getting Jack to play midwife for this one?’

‘He’s on standby. But even he admits he’ll be happy to take a back seat for the arrival of future Campbells.’ She grinned up at her husband as he slipped his arm around her waist. ‘Won’t you, darling?’

‘Believe it. You, my sweet, are confined to town for the rest of your pregnancy. A maximum of two kilometres from the hospital at all times.’

‘Uh-uh. There’s the camp draft next weekend. You prom ised.’

‘Only because Kayla’s going. And only because it’s within my fail-safe ten-kilometre radius from the hospital.’

The look that passed between his friends was one of such pure delight that Tom’s heart squeezed. He wanted a woman to look at him like that, as though he was the most important man in her world.

And not just any woman.

He wanted it to be Kayla.

Kayla tugged the front of her shirt, suddenly wishing she’d worn something more substantial than her favourite red shirt. She’d never realised how low the front was, not that it showed cleavage but the respectable square neckline showed an alarming amount of her décolletage. All that bare skin suddenly seemed outrageously provocative. The short, cap sleeves left her arms bare and somehow vulnerable.

And it was red. Sure, it suited her. She’d worn it because red was the colour of confidence and she needed all of that commodity she could muster for this interview. But the colour also screamed, Look over here, look at me in a way that she’d never appreciated before.

If it weren’t for the fact that she was actually standing on the veranda of the police station, she’d have fled home to change her blouse for something black that covered her from hyoid bone to scaphoid. She looked around surreptitiously and, sure enough, there was a security camera at the corner of the roof line. Great, now she probably looked like she was about to commit a felony.

She’d put off this moment as long as she could. The simple task of making the statement had grown into a task of monumental proportions. All she was doing was giving her version of events, for heaven’s sake. A formality. It wasn’t as if the accident was her fault. She’d been sober, driving carefully, and her quick evasive actions had prevented an even more serious situation.

As for Sergeant Jamieson…he was just a man. Doing a job. He wouldn’t bite. He probably wouldn’t even be the person she’d have to deal with so she was getting herself into a lather for nothing. She needed to get a grip, tell the person taking her statement what had happened, answer a few questions. Simple.

She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders then pushed open the door of the police station.

‘Hey, Kayla.’

‘Penny. Hi.’ Kayla grinned at the neatly uniformed woman on duty behind the counter. The tension in her stomach began to smooth out. She could talk to Penny, give her statement, get on the road to Melbourne. She didn’t need to see the sergeant. Reprieve!

‘I hear you’ve got a new fan.’ Penny smiled.

‘Fan?’

‘My niece. Suzy MacIntyre. You saw her the other day.’

‘Oh, of course. She’s a delight.’

‘Isn’t she? She was telling me all about her visit to see you. And how brave she was about her injection and the jelly-bean she chose and the cute little animal stamp you gave her. You know she wouldn’t let poor Sarah wash it off for ages. They had to bathe her and wash around it.’

‘Oh, dear.’

‘Now she wants to come back to see you. She said she’d even have another injection if she had to.’

Kayla chuckled.

‘Anyway, you probably haven’t come by to listen to the ramblings of a proud aunty.’ Penny clicked her fingers. ‘Oh, I bet you’re here about Andy’s accident last week.’

‘I’m always happy to listen to proud aunty tales. But, yes, I’ve come to make a statement.’

‘Tom won’t be long. He’s just on a phone call at the moment. Want a coffee?’

‘No, thanks. Do you think…well, could I give you the statement?’

Penny looked doubtful. ‘Tom was very specific about wanting to see you himself. Which is a bit unusual really for something so routine.’

‘It’d be a shame to disturb him.’

‘Uncommonly thoughtful of you, Kayla.’

The deep voice made her jump. Spinning to her left, she met the sergeant’s knowing dark gaze. Heat swept her from head to toe and she felt as though she’d been caught planning something criminal.

He smiled at her. ‘I’m free now. All yours, in fact.’

The skin over her cheek bones was scorching as every particle of heat concentrated in her face. If only it was enough to combust her on the spot.

The dark, narrow-eyed stare raked over her already sensitised skin. ‘You’re looking better than when I last saw you.’

The personal comment allowed her to pull herself together. ‘Really, Sergeant?’

‘Tom. No need to stand on ceremony around here, is there, Penny?’ He smiled warmly at his constable and Kayla’s thought processes stuttered to a halt.

He looked back at her. ‘Want to come this way?’

No. She swallowed and forced her jellied knees to move her forward. The tension in her gut returned with an iron fist, making her glad it had been hours since she’d eaten.

Her heart set up a tattoo of great thumping beats as she followed him along a short corridor. She worked to compose herself, using the techniques that had served her so well for years when dealing with the large threatening males in her life. The usual methods weren’t working.

‘Grab a chair.’ He moved behind the desk to open a filing cabinet and take out a pad.

She perched on the edge of the seat and concentrated on the items on his desk. It was all very tidy. Orderly piles of paper, a container of pens.

Long fingers appeared in her line of vision, selected one of the pens and clicked it ready for use.

‘Tell me in your own words what happened last Sunday night, Kayla. You were returning from Melbourne?’ His smooth, velvety voice invited her to respond.

‘Y-yes.’ She marshalled her thoughts and began to describe the accident.

He made notes as she spoke.

‘So you didn’t see the lights of the car coming down the side road towards you?’ His dark eyes lifted to her face.

The question brought her up short.

‘No. I was…um…distracted.’ On that fateful night, she’d spotted him. In her mind’s eye, she could remember the tall, still figure beside the police vehicle. She’d wondered what he was doing out there in the middle of the night. Heat crept up her neck and it was all she could do not to put her hand to her throat to try to hide the self-betrayal. ‘I had glanced in the side mirror. The—the right-hand one on the…’ She stopped. ‘Right side.’

She was giving too much information, too much detail. Making herself sound like an idiot. Worse, she was drawing his attention and surely making him wonder what she was hiding.

Just as well she’d never contemplated a life of crime. Giving one tiny statement under Sergeant Jamieson’s piercing eyes was turning her into a gibbering wreck.

‘And then what happened?’

‘I—I looked back and the other car was suddenly there, at my left-hand passenger door. I braked hard and swerved to the right side of the road. My car spun when I hit the gravel.’

He led her through several more questions, then she watched as he finished making his notes.

‘Okay, that seems straightforward. I’ll just get you to read through this and sign if you’re happy with what it says.’

‘Okay.’ She took the pages. The short, terse sentences in his powerful, energetic script seemed to leap off the paper at her. She blinked and forced herself to concentrate. ‘I just sign at the bottom?’