Ember Flowers (29 page)

“Pretty..pretty
good. It was a fun event.” She leant back with her hands on her
hips, taking a deep breath. Her eyes quickly scanned the crowd. Roy
was looking sore and forlorn, but still gave her a thumbs up.

“I understand
you were a last minute substitution?”

The blonde shot
a mock look of annoyance down the barrel of the camera. “You owe me
one guys..” Uncapping a sports drink and taking a hasty sip.

The man beside
her chuckled softly. ”Anything you’d like to say? People you’d like
to thank?”

For a second
she looked serious. As the finish line got closer, she’d had time
to think. Joanne took the microphone, biting her lip. “Yes..firstly
thanks to all the sponsors, this was a great event for a great
cause. And..on a personal note, my thanks go out to Jean..I miss
you. I..love you. Thanks for being there for me.” She handed back
the microphone as a blush tinted her cheeks. Suddenly she had
somewhere to be. Nodding, waving, and disappearing from view toward
her car. Abruptly the camera went back to panning over the crowd. A
disembodied voice of the runner up winner could be heard beside the
camera.

“…What the hell
was that about?”

“Don’t ask
me.”

Chapter
42

With her jacket
tugged over her shoulders the policewoman’s sedan climbed the
winding road into the ranges. Dry paddocks greeted her on either
side, still crisp with the last remains of summer’s heat.

A kangaroo
hopped down into the brush as the vehicle turned a corner, the
sunlight becoming warm and orange toward late afternoon. It was
worth a shot. It had to be.
Rumours, locker room gossip be
damned. I know what I want.
The Officer knew the trip by heart,
her GPS packed away in the glove box. She wasn’t sure what to
expect, how Jean would react to seeing her again. But she wanted to
state her case.
For one more chance.

A final
landmark came into view, over the crest the road flattened out,
with Jean’s driveway secluded at the end. Immersed in her own
thoughts, she nearly missed the lone silver SUV as it passed by her
on the narrow bend.

The disbelief
and anger was stark on her face. A lean arm gripped the wheel into
a harsh fishtailing turn. The back of the car swinging out over the
lane as the wheels spun, rubber gripping coarse over stones. Teeth
gritted between pretty lips.

***

Empty canisters
rattled in the backseat, papers fluttering and a roll of duct tape
that fell and bounced with the swerving of the truck. The white
sedan was closing fast. He could see the look on her face in the
rear view.

She had made it
come to this.
You weren’t meant to be here Joanne, but you’ll
see things clearly now, an eye for an eye.
The pistol shifted
in his waistband, a pepper smell of gunshot recently fired.

Owen swerved
the heavy truck across the lanes, determined not to let her pass.
She sat in his blind spot, the nose of her car inches from his
bumper. The two Officers bore down the narrow strip of country
road. Hot pursuit, frayed nerves. Finally, he was forced to slow,
the road all unfamiliar tight turns. Her car screeched to a halt
across his path. Jo was out of her seat in moments, and near threw
him onto the bitumen as he got out with a stagger. Livid.

Silent as he
watched her mouth move, her accusations, her wide eyed anger at
seeing him here. His lips twitched up in a smile. It stopped her
tirade for a moment, if only to ask why.

“What the hell
is so funny? What are you doing out here Owen?” She froze at seeing
the butt of the pistol nestled against his shirt.

He merely shook
his head, pondering violence as his voice lowered to a grim timbre.
“Joanne, you’re always in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

The voice thick
in her throat. “What do you mean?”

“Today, you
shot your mouth off to the whole force, to anyone who’d listen. You
know what that did to me? How it made me look? Well, you’re about
to find out.” A smile again that chilled her blood.

Her head cocked
to the side, she looked around briefly at the empty road ahead,
barely a sound besides the whistle through the trees. “What did you
do? Owen..” Her eyes were trained on the pistol, a slim kernel of
love for her prevailed as he met her anxious eyes. Taking the
pistol slowly and throwing it aside into the cabin of his car.

“You’ll
see.”

It was the
smell. The smell struck her first, the primal warning uncoiling in
her gut at the first scent of danger on the wind.
Fire
.

She followed
his gaze to the crest around the bend. The slow, sinewy trail of
thick, black smoke rising between the trees.

“You didn’t?
You couldn’t?” Though she knew she still had to search his face.
What she saw seemed void of human warmth.

“You chose this
Joanne. You gave me no choice.”

Her head
whipped back over her shoulder, the smoke was getting thicker,
swirling and rising. Sick in the pit of her stomach. She gasped,
then her training took over. She was shaking as she took a few
stumbling steps back, reaching through the open car door and
pulling out her emergency failsafe.

The Glock was
trained on the centre of his chest. “Kneel on the ground God
dammit!”

He snickered as
she continued to bark instructions, yet complied, lacing his
fingers behind his head as he saw her approach with the cuffs.

“You don’t have
time for this Joanne.”

“What the hell
do you mean?” One cuff snicked closed.

“Because you
know?..I think she was home?”

Chapter
43

The white sedan
roared along the gravel driveway, throwing up chipped stones and
grit in its wake. The blonde planted her foot harshly on the brake,
swerving to a stop in front of the scorched lawn. The fire’s
burnished orange danced eerily on the pale paintwork as the sun
began to dip toward the horizon.

She saw the old
ute parked in its usual place, already ablaze, and lights on
upstairs that flashed and flickered. Recent thick tyre tracks led
away in the dirt. Jo gasped as she left her car, and was forced
back by the ferocious heat.

“Oh God, oh my
God…Jean! Jean are you in there?!” Her hands cupped in front of her
mouth as she shouted. Falling tinder and beams sagging under their
own weight creaked and groaned.

Joanne’s wide
grey eyes scanned the scene. She pulled her cell phone from her
pocket. Quickly dialling a number. Her heart squeezed in her chest
when she heard the faint ringing from somewhere in the chaos, then
dying to nothing.

Her mind did
quick desperate equations.
Her car, her phone, the lights..Oh
God, what if she’s in there somewhere? What has he done?
Jean!

Thinking
quickly, she dashed over to the outside tap. Despite the warm
autumn air, the icy water punctured jaggedly across her senses. Her
teeth gritting, followed by a hard prickling of the skin all over
as her clothes swelled and stuck. She held the hose upright over
her head. Her thoughts cast back to the horrors she had seen fire
exact in its malevolence.
Accidents. Arson. Scorched hair,
blood, skin flecking away like paper..Jean could be in
there.

Her hand
squeezed the valve on the hose one last time as she blinked back
tears.
It’s just hair, your eyebrows will grow
back..breathe..will it hurt?..breathe..she needs you.

She braced
herself as the water trickled down over her face, eyes shut
tight..
Break the window by the door, the hall is probably
blocked with debris
. She hadn’t heard the hoof beats, the mad
canter up the rise. The falling wood and wail of the updraft
deafening. Hadn’t seen the bleary eyed horror on Jean’s face as she
watched the flames lick across the eaves. The embers floated in the
air along with the haze of fresh malice.

Her body
uncoiled as she broke into a run toward the flames. The voice
seemed to blossom through the ash, eventually sharpening to
clarity.

“Joanne?”

“Joanne!!”

Her body
snapped to the sound as she reached the tattered porch, her
heartbeat skipping. “Jean!” The hose dropped limply to the grass
with a dull thud. As she ran toward her she saw Jean dig her heel
into the mare’s side, spurring the frightened animal along the
fence line toward the gate.

Hurriedly the
older woman dismounted, tugging the steel gate open hard and
ushering the horse into the paddock with a sharp slap on the rump.
She was scared. Jo could see it in her eyes.

“Jean!” Relief
flooded through her as she crushed the shorter woman against her
sodden chest. “Jean! Thank God you’re all right!”

The brunette’s
mouth hung open as she looked over the Officer’s shoulder toward
the house, the upper floor had partly collapsed. Her bedroom
resembled a jagged crown, glowing broken beams. Tears welled and
streamed from her eyes.

“Joanne? What’s
happening? I saw smoke and I rushed home?..”

There were
tears in her eyes too. “Jean..we need to get you somewhere safe..we
need..”

“Just tell me
what’s going on! Why are you here?”

Joanne bit her
lip. “Jean..I don’t know how to tell you? Owen..he-”

The tanned
woman went deathly quiet. After a few moments she nodded. Blind
sighted, anger boiling. Joanne studied the storm of emotions.

It sharpened
the younger woman’s resolve. “Now I know you’re safe, get to a safe
distance Jean, I’m going after him.” Her keys were clasped in her
hand, the other angrily wiping her eyes.

It snapped her
out of her reverie. “Jo. Wait! No..I need your help! We’ve got to
stop it from spreading. It’ll take the stable too..everything..I’ll
get the hose, call the fire department!” She started to run,
looking over her shoulder.

The blonde
seemed frozen by indecision.

“Now Joanne,
c’mon, we don’t have much time!”

***

It hadn’t
mattered. By the time the fireys arrived there had been little left
to save. The older woman had somehow accepted it faster than she
did. Pulling the blonde back when she knew it was hopeless. Sobbing
in defeat. Joanne had tried to keep fighting. Guilt and adrenaline
driving her on.

Eventually, all
they could do was get back and watch it burn. Fought until it was
proven futile. The Officer had cradled Jean in her arms as they
watched the old house break and buckle. The fire too intense,
fuelled by spite and kerosene. Joanne was crying too, but she did
her best to stay strong. Owen would be running, and she couldn’t
stop him.
This is all my fault. Everything. I’ve ruined her
life.

Swallowed like
a bitter pill. Joanne whispered gentle reassurances against the
soft brown hair. Partly for Jean, partly for herself. It didn’t
matter that they were no longer together. She wouldn’t, couldn’t,
let Jean go like this.

Jean unwound
herself from her arms, as Jo watched the fire fighters douse what
was left of her dining room floor, stars glittering above. The
older woman made her way through the debris, not waiting for
permission. Stopping to mourn some tattered fragment. Soot stained
hands.
Photographs, clothes, memories. Gone.

Unable to
merely watch she joined her, crouching beside Jean, her arm
delicately around her shoulder. “Jean?” Her voice tender and
tentative.

Dark eyed
sorrow looked up at her. It wasn’t until after the chaos that
they’d discovered the unmoving silhouette in the paddock. Calm
round eyes that stared out into nothingness, an empty casing
forgotten in the dirt by the drive. That wound had cut the
deepest.

“Jean. He tried
to kill you. I want you to stay with me. I want to protect you. At
least I can do that right.”

Her heart sunk
when the older woman just mutely nodded, with nothing left to
lose.

Chapter
44

In the fog of
signing paperwork, making statements and getting updates on their
fugitive, she and Joanne had found themselves in an almost familiar
setting. The hotel room lit with soft blushes of peach from the
lamps, and the glow from the television on mute. Still breaking
into the occasional stoically withheld sniffle, the tall Officer
had appointed herself as Jean’s protective detail. She stood by the
window, watching the traffic, a glazed look in her eyes and somber
thoughts like dark unwanted dreams.

It wouldn’t be
safe to take Jean home with her. He was still out there. This was
the next best thing. Joanne stretched her limbs, restless, still
aching all over from her earlier efforts.

The gardener
sipped her coffee by the kitchenette, unable to focus, floating in
and out of the fragile middle distance. She looked over at the tall
blonde. They had been almost unable to talk besides a few stiff
words. It made little sense to her, the concept of an enemy foreign
and strange.
No one had ever hated her before.

As she watched,
the Officer turned from the window and met her eyes briefly, then
lowered them. Shuffling toward the sofa and slumping down drained.
A hand under her head, as she struggled to stay awake.

When Jean
glanced over again her former lover was lightly dozing. Jo had
taken things hard, and had been distant. Swinging back and forth
between anger and remorse. Jean could understand. It had been a
trying day, for both of them. She felt a pang of sympathy. No
matter what happened, and had passed between them, she still felt
that tingle of familiar warmth and connection when their eyes
met.

The television
hummed quietly, curious, Jean walked over, turning it up slightly
with the remote.

A familiar face
caught her eye and she stood still, watching the screen. A sports
segment, local news, and Joanne’s slightly flushed complexion.