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CHAPTER THREE
“THIS PLACE IS out of the way, isn’t it?” Reed said, as the squad car came over a low rise to reveal the tiny community huddled around Snellings Beach.
“Yep,” Don drawled. “There’s lots of these little isolated places on KI. It’s the reason some people come here in the first place, to get away from everything.”
They were approaching a valley, where a small river flowed down to meet a beautiful pristine beach below them. Puffy clouds covered most of the sky, but every so often a shaft of sunlight made it through, throwing the vista into stark relief.
Reed cast his new boss a quick sideways glance, but didn’t reply. Sergeant Donald Coldwater was an interesting man. He must’ve been heading towards his late fifties. Short and stocky, but all muscle, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Short salt-and-pepper hair and a trademark mustache gave him a distinguished air, as did his serious, gray eyes and stern mouth. He reminded Reed of a bull terrier dog. And he had a personality to match. Even after knowing the man for less than twenty-four hours, Reed already understood you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Don. He’d heard through the police grapevine that Don and his crew were a solid bunch, loyal, dependable, and good at what they did. Hopefully he could find a way to slot into this tight-knit team.
As Don steered the police car over the rutted dirt road, Reed thought back to the events of the morning. At exactly half-past eight, Reed had reported to the police station in Kingscote. The little guesthouse Don organized for him to stay in until he sorted himself out was only two blocks away, so he’d walked to the station, enjoying the brisk air.
Reed thought he would get there early—the station didn’t officially open until nine—but everyone was already there when he entered the building, all clustered in the large, old kitchen sipping on mugs of coffee. Reed hid his surprise. They either loved their jobs a lot, or were perhaps just keen to meet the new recruit.
Don stepped forward and made the introductions. First off was Patrol Officer Eric Jones. Eric was a big man, towering over Reed, and carrying a little extra weight by the looks of the buttons straining to breaking point on his police shirt. But the man was still mighty intimidating. Reed was glad he was on their side as he shook the big man’s hand, which engulfed his. Eric’s face split into a wide, affable grin as he welcomed Reed to their small unit, and Reed was reminded of the Big Friendly Giant. Then he turned to shake the hand of Patrol Officer Olivia Mettler. Olivia was the complete opposite of Eric, small and petite, with a thin mouth and astute eyes. When she smiled, however, her eyes came alive and her bushy, blonde ponytail jiggled with mirth that belied her stern gaze. Don told him Olivia was their youth and community expert, as well as their liaison with the general public, while Eric was the main patrol cop. But they were also jacks-of-all-trades out here. Their unit wasn’t big enough to have them assigned to only one role. Not like the big-city stations.
Reed kept his shoulders squared, and met their eyes with a steady gaze. His new workmates would make their own evaluations. He knew he was good at what he did, but he also knew he’d need to prove himself first, before any of them trusted him.
“Give us a quick run-down of your career so far, if you wouldn’t mind,” Don had asked, sending him a quick nod of approval. “Ease Eric and Olivia’s mind that you know what you’re doing.”
“Sure thing.” Reed took a step back so he could lean against the doorjamb, and put one hand in his pocket. His fingers found the smooth familiarity of his lucky charm. An old bronze penny from the early nineteen-thirties that his mentor at the academy had given him. Reed always carried that penny in his pocket. Cops could be a cynical bunch, but they were also highly superstitious, and Reed never went anywhere without it. Logically, he knew it wouldn’t protect him from a speeding bullet, and it hadn’t saved him from that terrible car accident that’d scarred his leg, but the human heart wasn’t always logical and so he still carried it with him.
“I moved to Melbourne when I was twenty, and did my original training at the Victorian Police Academy in Glen Waverly. After I graduated, I took a job in the rural town of Ballarat, which I know is still a lot bigger than Kangaroo Island, but at least I have some experience working in a country area. We had a team of fifteen officers, and I was in the crime services section. So, my forensic skills might come in handy.” Eric grimaced at Reed’s words, and he got the impression they didn’t have a lot of call for crime scene investigation skills out here.
He continued with his story. “I spent three years in Ballarat, but wanted to experience a big-city station, so took a job in Adelaide. I loved working there, we had a great crew, a great Superintendent.” He cast a quick glance at Don, but the man just raised one eyebrow in response. “Then I was involved in an on-the-job car accident, and I left the force for around four years.” Olivia gave him a small sympathetic smile. “But once it’s in your blood, well, you know…I couldn’t stay away. So, I re-joined the force in Adelaide, started almost at the bottom again, but I don’t mind. It’s the job I love, not the titles. Been back in service for the past four years.”
“Sounds like you’ll be a good man to have around,” Eric drawled laconically.
“I can probably tell by your accent, but I’m going to ask anyway. Where you from, originally?” Olivia interrupted.
“Yeah, you guessed it, I’m from across the ditch.” Reed grinned. “New Zealand born and bred.”
“I don’t have anything against the kiwis. Except when the All Blacks play the Wallabies, then watch out. I’m a huge Rugby fan.” Olivia smiled, her ponytail bouncing.
After that, Don showed him around the cottage-cum-station, and Reed dropped his stuff on his new desk—they all worked together in one large room, situated behind the reception area. Then Don sat them all down and gave them the morning debrief, or council of war, as he called it.
Eric had been on-call last night, and he told them he’d received two messages. A woman had reported a burglary around half-past ten last night, but said the perpetrator was long gone, so not to worry about coming to check it out till morning. The second call had been about a disturbance on the beach at Kingscote. When he got there, Eric found a rowdy bunch of kids drinking, and he’d moved them on. Nothing else had been reported, which surprised Reed. But then, he really shouldn’t have been shocked; this place was going to be much quieter than his last posting in Adelaide.
“Eric is off-duty in a half-hour,” Donald cut in, after Eric finished his report. Reed chanced a quick glance at Eric. Being on-call all night was never fun, and he could see the dark shadows under the big man’s eyes. He would do well to go home and get a few hours shut-eye.
“Olivia, I know you still have all that paperwork from the random breath testing we did the other night,” Don continued. Olivia grimaced but gave him the thumbs up. “And that leaves you, Reed. You’re with me today,” Don said. “You can get acquainted with the island on the drive. We’re off to check on this burglary.”
Nothing like being thrown in the deep end on your first day. “I’m all for that, Sarge,” Reed replied.
Now, nearly an hour later, Reed was learning that only the main road that ran from one end of the island to the other was bitumen. Most of the smaller side roads were all gravel, and it made sense as to why all the police cars were Land Cruiser four-wheel-drives. Reed could see a lot of his driving would be done on dirt, and was glad his own Jeep was also a four-wheel-drive. Don turned into a narrow driveway and a cream-colored house, built out of sandstone, appeared, huddled into the native bush. A wooden veranda ran around one side of the house to the front, and three steps led up to a covered porch. Nice. It looked well-cared-for, and had a welcoming air to it. As Reed stepped out of the passenger seat and made his way around the back of the car, the front door opened and a tall, familiar-looking woman came out to meet them.
“Sierra?” The word was out of his mouth before his brain caught up. The shock of seeing her again so soon stopped him in his tracks. She was the person who’d been burgled?
“You’ve already met, then?” Don cast a quick, shrewd glance back at Reed.
“Yes. We met on the ferry yesterday. Sierra showed me the way to the police station after we docked.” Reed managed to regain his composure and put his professional façade back up. He hoped he hadn’t been openly gaping at her. Today, she was dressed in black leggings, and an overly-large, dark-blue, hooded sweater. He liked the view the skin-tight leggings afforded of her taut thighs and pert bottom.
“Morning, Sergeant Coldwater. Thanks for coming out,” she said to Don. “Morning, Reed. Nice to see you again.”
He gave Sierra a quick grin of recognition. As she approached down the steps, he made out the dark rings beneath her eyes, which hadn’t been there yesterday.
“Sorry to call you out, but they took my computer, and I need a police report for the insurance,” she said, addressing Don directly. She grimaced and put on a brave smile, clearly making out she was fine about the whole thing. “I left the place exactly like it was when I got home, so you guys could see for yourselves. Whoever did this made quite a mess.” She glanced at Don and Reed and beckoned them up the stairs. Was it just his imagination, or did she sound a little formal, a little guarded when she spoke to the Sarge? She’d addressed him using his official rank when she’d first greeted them. There was an undercurrent of something going on here, but with his limited knowledge, he’d just have to wait and try and figure it out.
“That’s good, Sierra. You did the right thing.” Don’s deep baritone betrayed nothing of his feelings towards Sierra, good or bad. This was just another regular job, one of many calls the station got every day. “It gives us an idea of the state of mind of a perpetrator, if we can see the crime scene unaltered.”
