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Am I doing the right thing? I am, I know I am, but how do I know that being with Brock is what’s right? Is he just Mr. Right now? How do I know that my feelings for Brock are real and not just an infatuation with the way he makes me feel?
When I’m with him, I feel desired and excited, young and wild. What I know I should have been feeling all along.
Maybe I’ve just been hypnotised by Brock’s magical dick, because I’m pretty sure it has supernatural powers. Huge, sweaty, spine tingling powers that make me forget my name or that any other man ever existed.
Callie’s words from the other day come back to me.
You don’t want to be with Simon, but you’re too gutless to break it off with him. Unfortunately, I know she’s right. I haven’t travelled as much as I thought I was going to. I haven’t done much of anything since Simon and I broke up. Not like I thought I was going to, anyway.
I’m supposed to be going to Hawaii next week, but the friend I was going with can’t go anymore meaning I had to plan to go alone. But when all this shit went down with Brock and Simon, and my confusion over my feelings, it all just seemed too hard. The thought of going to another country on my own when I was in turmoil about Brock was too overwhelming, so I cancelled it. Another decision made on impulse. Is this an impulse decision too?
Rourke interrupts my thoughts. “Have you seen the sample from Lab A?” he asks.
I frown. “What was it?”
“I had a few strands of hair that was found in the hand of the body from the docklands this week. It wasn’t hers. I checked it yesterday, but when I went back to run for DNA just now, it’s not there anymore.” He scratches his head as he looks around.
“No.” I stand. “Where was it?”
“I left it in the file. It was there yesterday before we left, I know it was.” His voice is rising as his panic begins to set in.
“It was bagged up?” I ask.
“Yeah, of course it was.” He looks through the file. “Can you see if somebody has checked it out?”
I log onto the computer and type in the evidence file number.
Item 2778 Forensics Pending outcome
“Shit, no, it says it’s still here.”
Rourke begins to get agitated and flicks through the file case envelopes at double speed. “Where the hell is it?” he whispers angrily. “If I’ve lost it, I’m going to get fucking fired.”
“It’s okay, well find it.” I begin to help him look. “Where were you yesterday when you were looking at it?”
“I was in Lab A. I checked her DNA against the hair and it wasn’t a match.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “So, where did you go then?”
He frowns as he retraces his steps. “It was home time so I bagged it back up and put it into the filing system so I could work on it today.”
“Under its case number?”
“Yes, of course under the fucking case number. Where else would I have put it?” he snaps.
“Okay. Don’t get angry with me, it’s not my fault,” I say quietly. I begin to go through the filing system drawers while he turns the lab upside down.
Two and a half very stressful hours later there’s no evidence to be found
Rourke picks up the phone and dials down to forensic reception, putting the call on speaker.
“Michelle, did anyone sign out any evidence yesterday?” he asks in a rush.
“Hang on, I’ll check.” I can hear her typing before she comes back to the call. “No, there were five lots signed in, but nothing signed out.”
“Fucking great.”
“What’s up?” she asks.
“Item 2778 is missing.”
“Hmm. Call down to the officers handling the case. Maybe they forgot to sign it out.”
“Yeah, okay.” Rourke sighs. He flicks through the notes to find out who the officer is. “Thanks.” He dials down to the station. “Hi, Charlie, can you put Andrew on, please?”
“Andrew is on leave until Friday next week.”
“Can I have his cell number? I have to speak to him urgently.”
“Sure, but I know he left to go to Bali on a surfing trip this morning. I’m not sure you’ll be able to reach him. Anything I can help you with?”
Rourke screws up his face, and I slap my forehead. What are the chances?
“Do you know if he signed out an item yesterday and forgot to log it?”
“I don’t know, man. I doubt it, but it could happen. I’ll check if anyone else signed it out. What’s the item number?” Charlie asks.
“2778.”
“Okay, I’ll track it down.”
“I’ll take the number anyway,” Rourke says. He listens and then scribbles the number down.
“I’ll find it, leave it with me.”
“Okay, thanks.” Rourke hangs up and nods as he tries to calm himself down. “He’s probably got it.”
