Sharp Edge Page 3

  ‘Yes sir,’ I said unable to resist a parting shot. Some days my mouth had a mind of its own.

  * * *

  The whole statement and forensics thing took forever, and I lolled about on Mona’s bonnet, checking Facebook and my email and watching the people stream in and out of the bottle shop across the road as the sun slipped away.

  I should be doing what they were doing, picking up a nice bottle of Pinot Gris and settling in at home to watch a movie. In reality though, I didn’t have a couch (technically I did, but it was more of a wardrobe) or a television.

  I was reading an FB message from Tozzi that said why haven’t you called me? when a deep, honey-coated voice sent me sliding off the bonnet in surprise.

  ‘And what’s your answer?’

  I planted my feet in the gutter and jerked around to see if it was really him or if my guilty conscience had somehow conjured up his doppelganger.

  Nope. It was him. Seven feet tall and looming bigger than that in the shadows of dusk.

  ‘N-Nick.’

  ‘T-Tara,’ he mimicked sarcastically.

  ‘Were you looking over my shoulder just then?’

  ‘Backlit smartphones,’ he said. ‘Gotta love them.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  He pointed to the bottle shop. ‘Just on my way there and saw Mona.’

  Having a recognisable car sucked sometimes; though at least she was no longer burnt orange with black drag-stripes.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ he added.

  Garth was walking Bligh to the door and Barnes was packing up the camera kit. ‘Garth’s been ransacked.’

  ‘And Garth would be?’ He was standing in shadows but I could still see the raised eyebrow.

  ‘My accountant,’ I said defensively.

  On cue, Garth saw me, waved Bligh and Barnes off, and came over. He slipped his arm around me. ‘Let’s go—’ then he saw Tozzi’s towering figure in the dark and jumped back.

  I grabbed his arm to steady him. ‘It’s OK. This is Nick, a friend of mine.’

  Garth recovered enough composure to shoot out his hand. ‘Sorry mate. I think we met once before. I’ve had a rough evening. Bit jumpy.’

  Nick stepped into the street light and by the way Garth winced, returned the shake with a bone crunching grip. ‘Can see that. But you’re in good hands if Tara has your back.’

  My jaw dropped in astonishment. This could not be the Nick I knew, being so complimentary.

  Garth slid his arm around my shoulders again. ‘Yeah, I know.’

  Awkward.

  ‘I’ll clean up the place tomorrow. Let’s go grab a bite,’ Garth said to me.

  Tozzi flattened me with a glare that could demolish a building, and I extricated myself from Garth’s embrace. ‘Actually, Nick and I have a prior engagement, G. I’ll take a raincheck on dinner.’

  He looked vaguely wounded but nodded.

  ‘What time will you be here tomorrow? I’ll bring Wal to help with the clean-up,’ I asked.

  ‘Seven am sound OK?’

  Shite. ‘Sure. We’ll see you then.’

  We stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence. ‘Well I’m parked around the back. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He nodded at Nick. ‘Good to meet you again.’

  ‘And good luck with that,’ Nick said to him, nodding at the shop.

  ‘Thanks.’

  We watched as Garth locked up with a chain and padlock and disappeared around the back.

  ‘What’s going on, Tara?’

  I opened my eyes wide. ‘With what?’

  ‘You and the bean counter.’

  ‘Nothing’s going on,’ I said. ‘I’m helping out a friend.’

  He clenched his fist and pounded it lightly into Mona’s roof.

  I stamped my foot in return. ‘Tozzi, what the hell is wrong with you? Leave my car alone!’

  He turned and stalked away then swivelled just as unexpectedly and walked back.

  Before I could speak, he pulled me into his arms, so that his chin rested on my head.

  I didn’t move for a moment or two, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the power in his arms.

  ‘Are you OK?’ I ventured after a bit. I couldn’t see his aura in the dark but it was buffeting me like a storm.

  ‘I missed you, and you’ve been avoiding me.’ He loosened his hold on me.

  I eased back a fraction and looked up. Even in the gloom he had that irresistible brooding thing going: hard angles and the shadows of stress beneath his eyes. Anguish added an extra sexiness to the shape of his mouth and the darkness of his eyes.

  ‘I-I—’ The stutter wasn’t a put on. I couldn’t think of what to say.

  ‘Hey, before you answer that, let’s go down to the beach and murder that bottle of Pinot Gris that I just bought.’

  I frowned. ‘Didn’t think you liked white wine.’

  ‘I don’t. But you do,’ he said lightly and strode off across the road.

  He bought it for me?

  I trotted after him, past the bottle shop and around the back to a parking lot. A quick scan of the cars told me there was no Porsche Cayenne or orgasmic Lambo.

  ‘Where’s your car?’ I asked suspiciously.

  ‘There.’ He pointed.

  A gleaming Ducati Multistrada 1200 S Sport. I knew that because my cousin, Crack, was a Ducati fanatic. I grew up watching him rebuild bikes from scratch in his bedroom. If you couldn’t Ducati-speak, you couldn’t converse with Crack unless you were Sable—she pretended to know nothing about bikes, and forced Crack to discuss celebrities and hair dyes. For her, he made an exception.

  ‘You bought a bike?’ I said.

  ‘I bought a bike.’ He walked over, opened the carrier, placed the wine bottle in it then unlocked two helmets from the clasp.

  ‘You just happened to have two helmets?’

  He looked at me. ‘No. I came to find you. Saw Mona as I came past the bridge.’

  ‘Smitty,’ I said. ‘She told you where I was!’

  He didn’t answer. Just handed me the dark green helmet.

  Why did I feel suddenly trapped when I’d dreamed for months about Tozzi wanting to get me alone?

  My phone started vibrating in my pocket. I slipped it out and checked the display. It was Ed. I got a little cramping feeling in my gut. This is why I was feeling trapped. Guilt!

  Easing it away again, I took the helmet and put it on. Guilt or not, I had to have this conversation with Nick sometime, and putting it off would just make things worse.

  He watched me secure the chin strap and checked I had it tight enough. Then he got on the bike and patted me on the pillion.

  Sitting on a motorbike, even a big one, with Nick Tozzi was like trying to fit behind a watermelon perched on an orange. His huge frame encroached over half of my seat space which meant I either hugged up really tight to him or sat my butt on the rear mudguard.

  I tentatively slid my arms around his broad back but as he ignited the Ducati and booted it out of the car park, I found myself grabbing tight.

  Tozzi drove the way, I figured, he did most things in life, with strength, control and an edge of competitiveness that made it thrilling.

  We were down the very south end of Cottesloe and pulling into one of the little car bays above the last short stretches of beach, before I could rehearse what I was going to say.

  Tozzi dismounted after me and rattled about in his carrier box again. Lifting out a soft sack and the wine, he set off.

  I followed him down the sandy path, lit only by an early moon and the street lights. No one swam here, it was too rocky but there was enough sand to sit on and watch the waves curling in.

  Nick took a beach towel out of the sack and lay it down for us to sit on. Then he retrieved two plastic wine glasses and poured in silence.

  He let me gulp down some of the alcohol while he sipped. I could feel his eyes on me as I stared out to sea. The wind had dropped, and the moon was rising. I took a handful of sand and tri
ckled it onto my toes.

  ‘Bet you used to do that for hours when you were a kid,’ he said softly.

  I glanced sideways at him. He sat on half of the towel, giving me room.

  ‘How did you know that?’ I said.

  ‘I could just tell.’

  An enigmatic answer that mystified me.

  ‘So what happened with you and Antonia while I was away in Brisbane?’ I asked finally.

  He looked away, out to the dreamily glowing moon. ‘She’s still using.’

  That was no news to me so I sat silent.

  After a while, he looked back at me. ‘You knew?’

  ‘By accident. I saw her in the back room of a night club with some people.’

  ‘What people?’

  ‘No one I knew,’ I lied. Hell would freeze over before I told him she’d been buying from John Viaspa. Last thing I needed was Tozzi on some kind of vendetta. Not when I was trying to lay low.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Figured it wasn’t my place.’

  ‘Your place!’ he exploded. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

  I became rigid with anger. ‘Listen, your wife and her drug addiction is not my business or my problem. Don’t you drag me down here and then ball me out!’

  ‘But why didn’t you—’

  I turned towards him, coolly raging now. ‘I am not your wife’s keeper. And I sure as heck don’t want to be responsible for more trouble in your marriage. How dare you call me out of the blue tell me you want me in your life then dump this crap on me!’ I jumped up in a swirl of kicked sand and stomped down to the water. Standing ankle deep, I let it cool my feet and my fury.

  My mind bubbled with a soup of emotions. I stewed on them, almost forgetting him, until his large hands descended on my shoulders.

  I stiffened but he half lifted me around so we were facing each other.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tara.’

  It was far from what I was expecting him to say, but it didn’t make anything better.

  ‘Look, I’m an arse, but give me a chance to explain,’ he said.

  I took a deep breath and nodded.

  ‘I’ve been in love with Antonia for a long time—sometimes it feels like forever—and when I commit to something I don’t take it lightly. I committed to my marriage. I believed in it. I told myself if I just gave her enough time, enough chances, enough support that she’d beat this thing but…’

  ‘She hasn’t?’

  ‘She hasn’t,’ he said quietly. ‘Somewhere on our journey together, I fell out of love with her. But I still care. It’s hard to let go. Can you understand that? But I deserve to be happy don’t I, Tara?’

  I softened at his earnestness and his aura warming me. ‘As much as anyone does,’ I said.

  He took my face in his hands and brought his mouth close to mine. ‘All I know is that you make me laugh. You make me feel good instead of all twisted up inside.’

  ‘I do?’

  His answer was a kiss like no kiss I’d ever had. It was tender but raw and filled with longing that threatened to buckle my bones. I don’t even know if I kissed him back. I couldn’t feel my body.

  When his lips released mine I stood limply, wondering what had just happened.

  ‘Tara?’ he said anxiously. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said hoarsely.

  He still held my face in his hands and he chuckled deeply. Warmly. ‘See what I mean. There’s something between us.’

  As gently as he’d placed his hands on me, I pulled them away. I took a slow breath.

  ‘I have something to say to you, Nick. And there’s no right or delicate way to do it, so I’m just going to come out with it.’

  He waited.

  ‘I have st-strong feelings for you too. V-very strong.’ I stumbled over the words to begin with but then they came with a rush. ‘But you’re on the rebound from your wife. No woman in her right mind would enter into something with you so soon. You need time to sort your head out. Time alone. See what it is you really want. Make sure that your feelings for Antonia are truly in the past.’

  It looked like his lips twitched in amusement or it could have been a trick of the moonlight and shadows. ‘That’s very mature of you, Tara.’

  ‘Don’t mock me,’ I said quietly. ‘I mean it. Can you honestly say you’re ready for a new relationship?’

  He was silent for a bit. Shifting his feet in the sand. Glancing out to the sprinkle of stars on the horizon.

  ‘I want to be with you,’ he said stubbornly. ‘I thought you’d want the same.’

  My heart gave a painful thump, and I wanted to lock my arms around his neck and demand another of those kisses. ‘It’s not the way these things work. You need time to heal, and we need to get to know each other.’

  ‘How long? How long do we need?’

  ‘As long as it takes.’ I was sounding so level-headed, it made me want to laugh.

  ‘But you’ll still date me then. So we can get to know each other.’

  I swallowed. This wasn’t what I’d expected. Smitts! I screamed silently. What now? What about Ed?

  Playing for time, I bent to flick away some seaweed that had wrapped around my ankle. My fingers hooked into it, and I gave it a good yank to fling it back out into the water.

  Only it didn’t flick. I felt a weight attached to it, and I peered into the water. A ghastly, pale mass with a nose and ears bobbed up at me.

  ‘Fuck!’ I yelled and jumped straight into Tozzi’s arms. He staggered backwards but manned up and caught me.

  ‘Tara!’ He bent his head for a kiss, thinking I was being unexpectedly passionate.

  I thumped him on the shoulder before he could fix his lips to mine. ‘Get back!’ I shrieked in his ear.

  He stepped from the water onto the sand with a giant stride and deposited me alongside him, holding me steady so I didn’t overbalance.

  ‘What is it? You’re shaking. What did I say?’

  ‘N-not you. Th-there!’ I pointed to the water.

  He peered around me cautiously. Then he stepped forward and dabbed at the mass with his foot.

  It bobbed and nudged closer, the hair intermingling with the weed.

  ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘It’s a body.’

  ‘A d-dead body.’

  He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, shone the torch onto the floater.

  I forced myself to look. It was a guy in a suit. Though his skin was puckered, his features were still distinct suggesting he hadn’t been in the water overly long.

  The wave began to recede taking the body with it.

  ‘Grab it!’ I said.

  ‘It’s a dead body,’ said Tozzi. ‘You grab it!’

  I glared at him. ‘Jeez, Nick. We can’t let it wash back out to sea.’

  His look told me he very easily could.

  I made an angry noise and stomped into the water. The corpse’s hands were tied together with rope. I grabbed them, closed my eyes and pulled. At first nothing happened so I pulled harder.

  Without any warning, the resistance lessened, and I staggered backward until I overbalanced onto the wet sand.

  ‘Tara,’ said Nick in a strangled voice.

  ‘What!’

  ‘Look.’

  I opened my eyes. I was holding the corpse’s arms, pulled straight out of the jacket sleeves and off the body. That shouldn’t happen. Arms don’t just come off. But there they were, glistening with salt water and blood...

  ‘Yeeooowww!’ I threw the limbs away onto the sand and sat there panting, trying not to puke.

  Tozzi swore loudly and in a way that penetrated my shock.

  ‘Ring the cops!’ He threw me his keys and phone and waded in, grabbing the arm-less body by its waterlogged clothes.

  While he wrestled to bring it to shore, I moved further up the beach and got my own phone out. I rang the first cop number I could find in my directory: B for Bligh.

  ‘Sharp?’ said
the Constable on the third ring.

  She had me on caller ID? ‘B-bottom of R-Rosendo St. D-dead body in the water.’

  ‘What? Tara, explain yourself—’

  ‘Can’t! Going—to—be—’

  I hung up and threw the entire contents of my stomach into the hollow I’d just dug with my feet.

  My vomit-induced tears took a minute to clear then I kicked sand over the mess and stood up. Tozzi was still struggling against the pull of the water. He was sprawled above the waterline with the mound of body across his legs, lying in the shallows. I could see, like the hands had been, the corpse’s feet were tied.

  ‘Tara,’ he called out.

  ‘Yeah, Nick?’ I answered anxiously.

  ‘You should know … this date sucks.’

  5

  I would have called him on that, but the sound of an engine and brakes had me scanning the car park behind us. A patrol car pulled in and I had a bad feeling I knew the two figures inside: not Bligh and Barnes as I was hoping, or even Greg ‘Whitey’ Whitehead, a cop I’d known since school.

  ‘Shit!’

  ‘What?’

  I ran down to Nick. ‘It’s Cravich and Blake.’

  ‘I’m not following you,’ he said, tugging the corpse by its leg now.

  ‘They were part of the raid on Coke Road last year. They would have strip searched me if Bligh hadn’t interrupted them.’

  ‘That’s illegal without a policewoman present.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He let go of the body, took my hand and squeezed it. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Please don’t leave me alone with them,’ I whispered.

  His hand squeezed tighter. ‘Are we good?’

  ‘Barring dead bodies and dodgy policemen … we’re good. But this … conversation we started, let’s finish it some other time.’

  In the moonlight his face looked as pale as mine felt. I might have pulled a dead guy’s arms off but he’d wrestled a water-logged corpse from the sea. Dead guy cooties were all over him and I bet, like me, he was desperate for a shower.

  Before he could answer, torches were criss-crossing the sand and glancing off our faces.

  Blake called it in before either of them spoke to us. Cravich poked at the body with a pen then crouched down in front of me, flashing his torch up in my eyes.