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This morning, the mirror had revealed a dark bruise spreading across his left eye, which had taken the brunt of her well-aimed boot. The cut that split midway through his eyebrow wasn’t too bad, and he’d applied a bandage to keep it covered. Even though he tried to hide the evidence of his scuffle, he knew he’d still have some explaining to do when he got into work today. How was he going to tell his boss, Charles, that a mere slip of a woman had taken him by surprise and managed to incapacitate him in one fell swoop? It hadn’t taken long for him to get the situation under control after that first little underestimation of the woman, despite that, he should never have let it happen in the first place.
After she’d begrudgingly accepted his offer of a place to stay for the night, she’d been determined that she was fine and she didn’t need any more of his help.
But still…
He poured another mug of coffee and juggled the two mugs in one hand as he opened the back door. Smudge pushed past Nico’s knees and jumped down the rear steps, happy to finally be allowed outside. Frigid air hit Nico as he took the steps and landed on the wet grass below. It was something you had to get used to living in Tasmania. The little island was the closest piece of land to Antarctica and winters were always bitterly cold down here. He was thankful for the woolen turtleneck he was wearing over dark corduroy pants and sturdy boots to keep most of the morning chill at bay.
Smudge was already whining at the door to the van as Nico crossed the grass, leaving dark footprints in the dew. Just before he reached the van, the door slid open, and Lacey emerged, wrapped in a wool blanket. Her hair was tousled from sleep and she gave a large yawn.
“Hey, Smudge,” she said, crouching down to pat the dog, letting him lick her face in greeting. She giggled as the dog’s tongue lapped over her chin, and then she hugged him close. It was the first hint he’d seen that there might be a more carefree version of Lacey hidden beneath her composed exterior. It was good to know she had a soft spot for animals. A person who didn’t like animals wasn’t to be trusted. At least not by Nico’s reckoning.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning,” she replied, a wariness entering her face as she stood and let the dog go.
“I brought you coffee. Not sure how you like it, so it’s black, no sugar.”
“Thank you. I usually like milk, but that will do,” she replied with a grimace. One hand snaked out from between the blankets to grasp the mug and she took a grateful sip. “Ah, nectar of the gods,” she sighed.
He couldn’t help but agree. “How did you sleep?”
“Actually, really well,” she consented, almost as if she was surprised by her answer.
He wondered why the thought of getting a good night’s sleep might be unexpected. Maybe whatever had haunted her last night when she’d become almost hysterical also haunted her in her sleep.
“Nice van,” Nico said, deciding to change the subject, casting an appraising glance over her vehicle. It was a two-tone beige and white, pop-top Kombi van. It looked to be in good condition, on the outside, at least.
“Thank you,” Lacey replied. “I bought it from a guy who restores Kombis. It’s what he does for a living, and he poured his heart and soul into bringing Dotti back to life.”
Silently, Nico decided that these restored vans didn’t come cheap, but he had no idea of Lacey’s financial situation and he wasn’t about to start prying. “You call her Dotti?” he asked, peering into the interior, which was also done up in the same beige and white tones.
“Yes, she came with the name, but I like it,” Lacey conceded. “It suits her. Would you like to take a look?” Lacey said at last, motioning for him to clamber inside. He had to duck down, there wasn’t enough room for him to stand, and he took a seat on the small couch running the width of the van along the back. She followed him in, as did Smudge, who was never one to wait for an invitation. The van was tiny, but he could see how it might suit one person who wanted to live simply. Lacey shut the door to keep out the cold and sat next to him on the couch. The small space suddenly seemed minuscule, almost as if all the air had been sucked out, and he became hyper-aware of her, even wrapped in a thick blanket and sitting as far away from him as she could get. Which wasn’t far in this tiny house on wheels. She grasped the mug in both hands to take a sip and he could see her fingers were delicate with short but sculpted nails.
“So, you sleep up there?” He asked the first thing that came to mind just to break the awkward silence, tilting his chin upward.
“Yes, the roof pops up and then I lay out a couple of inserts and roll out a mattress to form a space to sleep. It’s quite cosy, really.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. And there’s a table that folds out from beside the cupboard.” She leaned forward and with a quick flick of her wrist, she pulled on a bit of timber, opening out a set of legs that dropped from beneath it, and voilà, a perfect little table to set his mug down on. He watched her surreptitiously as she set up the workspace. The tip of her tongue came out from between luscious lips, working from side to side as she maneuvered the piece of board. He wondered if she was even aware of the action. It may be a subconscious thing for her to do, but it was driving him a little crazy, watching that pink tip move excruciatingly slowly across her bottom lip. Then she was suddenly staring at him, and he realized she was waiting for a response.
“Nice,” he said again, for want of a better word. “How long have you been living in…Dotti?” He nearly stumbled over the name. A vehicle was there for one purpose only, to get you from A to B. They were inanimate objects and didn’t deserve a name. But each to their own. At least Lacey seemed to have lost some of that initial wariness now she was talking about her Kombi. And that was always good; getting someone to let their guard down was a trick of his.
“Nearly six months now,” she replied, settling back into the couch.
“Wow.” He was impressed. “That’s quite a while to be cooped up in this tiny space. You must enjoy it then?” He turned to face her, and she fixed pale amber eyes on him. Or were they more hazel? Her eyes were just as compelling as the rest of her.
With the table now up, the space felt even smaller and more confined. Smudge curled up on the floor with a sigh, brown-eyed gaze flitting from him to Lacey and back again. The dog didn’t seem to be perturbed by the close quarters. So it was just him, then?
Normally, he wasn’t affected by a woman’s presence. He’d learned to govern his body’s reaction. Watch and observe; that was part of his job. But it was also part of his nature. The need to discern a person’s character, figure out their goals and motivations, what drove them to make the everyday decisions they did. Because some of those seeming everyday decisions people made, ended up in murder.
But Lacey threw his usual composure into turmoil. He couldn’t seem to gauge her as easily as he did most people. Which was unnerving. Perhaps he needed to put some distance between them. Yes, that was it. He wasn’t used to being in such close proximity.
“It’s called Van Life. Haven’t you heard of it? People live simply and freely, on the road,” Lacey said.
“What?” He’d lost track of their conversation, and had to mentally pull himself back to the present. “Van life? Yes, I’ve heard of it.” Should he also admit that the idea of living on the road didn’t entice him? That he didn’t have time to think about frivolous things like taking time off to travel around on a whim.
But she saved him from having to answer by saying, “You don’t look like one of those everyday cops on the beat.” Those caramel eyes fixed on him again with a shrewdness that hadn’t been there before.
