To Snatch a Thief

CHAPTER SIXTEEN



They hadn’t gone a mile when her kip signalled an incoming text message. Slumped in the back seat, Skye pressed her fingers to her eyes. She’d almost been expecting it.

‘I hope you see now how easy it is for me to take either one of you. I’m enjoying playing this cat and mouse game, it is very entertaining, but remember… when the cat decides to end the game, the mouse always loses. Clock’s ticking on that one.

In the meantime, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you. One word from you about today’s little adventure, or anything else, and the game’s over.’

Lying on a pale blue couch in an examination room, her sore head cradled on a cool water pillow, Skye winced as she felt Dr Cahill gently slide the scanner over her ribcage where an area the size of a small pizza was turning the colour of plums.

Finishing the examination, he replaced the implement in its case, then dipped both hands into the pockets of the short white coat he was wearing over his brown suit. ‘You have severe bruising on your right side, but no ribs broken, and that goose egg lump on the back of your skull. Again no fractures, thank goodness, but you’ve sustained a mild concussion. Happily, we can fix all that.’

Although her hazy impression of the waiting room, as the triage nurse had rushed her through it, was much as Skye remembered - crammed to overflowing with the sick and the lame, the destitute and the dying - this examination room was nothing like the badly-equipped room of her nightmares. It was still small, but clean and light and the up-to-date equipment looked brand new - one of four such rooms which had been added to the clinic in the last six years, she’d learnt.

Dr Cahill moved to a stainless steel cabinet and took out a syringe. ‘Don’t look so scared.’ He grinned at Skye’s horrified expression. ‘This will reduce the swelling in a couple of hours. You can’t honestly want to keep that protrusion on your head any longer than you have to.’ Bracing her arm, Skye screwed her eyes shut, fearing the prick of the needle, but didn’t feel a thing. ‘There all done. Really you should press charges. I’m sure the police would soon find those youths. Mind you,’ he added, huffing out a laugh. ‘I know what it is to be young and I’d have probably enjoyed blade boarding at their age, but they do put the public at risk riding irresponsibly. But now I have an ulcerated leg waiting for me in Room Two, so I’ll leave you in the capable hands of a nurse, who’ll give you something to disperse that bruising and make you a lot more comfortable.’ He winked at Lexie perched on the bottom of the couch from where he’d been watching the proceedings with wide, troubled eyes. ‘She keeps a store of sweeties. Tell her I said to give you one.’

‘Dr Cahill. I know you’re busy, but can I ask you something?’ Skye struggled to sit up.

He slid the syringe into a plastic disposal box. ‘Of course, what is it?’

‘Well, if you knew someone had done some really bad stuff to some other people, and you knew you should tell someone about it, but if you did, you’d make something bad happen to someone else. Should you spill all you know regardless, or let them get away with it?’

‘Well.’ The doctor pursed his lips. ‘That is a conundrum. I suppose I should ask, what does your conscience tell you?’

Skye sighed. ‘That’s the trouble. My head says one thing but my gut says another.

‘I take it this is a police matter.’

‘Yeah, but it’s turning out kind of personal too.’

‘I’m not really qualified to advise you, but following your heart is generally the way to go, isn’t it?’ He patted her hand. ‘Sorry I can’t be of more help.’ Now, I really must get on. I’ve a full patient list and, as I’m taking my wife out to dinner tonight, I don’t want to be late home again or she’ll skin me alive.’

As he turned for the door it burst open, letting in the sound of a baby’s persistent wailing and Narelle Keating, followed by a red-faced nurse. Narelle was dressed in tailored slacks in a soft moss green, topped by a white fur-seal jacket that rode on her slender hips. Her hair was loose and framed the fine bones of her face. Feeling somewhat exposed from the waist up, Skye scrabbled for her shirt.

‘Doctor, I’m so sorry.’ The nurse shot Narelle a furious glance. ‘I explained to Ms Keating that you were with a patient…’

‘David, we have to talk.’ Narelle dismissed the nurse with a careless flick of her manicured hand. ‘You never answer your klip, and if I try to contact you here, I’m either told you’re out or unavailable.’

‘It’s alright, Lleyvaine, I’ll deal with this. Go back to your station.’ Dr Cahill’s voice remained outwardly calm as he spoke to the nurse, but Skye didn’t mistake the muscle working in his cheek. ‘I’m sorry about this, Skye.’ With a hand supporting her elbow, he helped her off the couch. ‘Narelle, I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour. My patient’s deserve, and will receive, privacy.’

‘In the facilities I paid for…’ Narelle closed her eyes, shook her head. ‘No, I apologise, but it’s urgent we… ‘She broke off as, for the first time, she seemed to notice Skye. One perfect eyebrow rose. ‘You’re that girl; the one you told me about, David.’

With a resigned sigh, Dr Cahill nodded. ‘Narelle, this is Skye Forrester. Skye, Narelle Keating.’

Despite being fully clothed, Skye felt herself being mentally undressed under the older woman’s insolent scrutiny. It made her acutely aware of her make-up free face, her tangled hair and the grass-stains on her jeans. Narelle circled her like a shark assessing its prey. ‘Hmm,’ she said at length. ‘Interesting.’

Skye cocked her own eyebrow. ‘Finished?’

As if sensing trouble, Lexie jumped off the couch and a moment later slipped his small hand into his sister’s.

Dr Cahill cleared his throat. ‘Narelle.’ There was warning in his tone, which she ignored. In the waiting room the baby continued to howl; someone coughed incessantly.

‘You go ahead, David, see to your patients. I’ll only be a minute here.’ Opening the door wider, Narelle put a hand on her hip; waited. Skye saw a look pass between them; a silent exchange which was lost on her.

‘We’ll talk about this.’ Dr Cahill strode to the door, pausing halfway through to catch Skye’s eye. ‘Remember what I told you, Skye.’ Narelle closed the door behind him.

‘I asked my brother about this scheme you’re on,’ she stated, her eyes narrowed to feline slits. They found you languishing in prison. You’re nothing but a petty criminal.’

‘I was, yes.’

Narelle showed her teeth. ‘And how do you find working with the Lieutenant?’

‘We get on fine.’

‘I’m surprised. Stephen doesn’t usually suffer fools gladly.’

It was Skye’s turn to smile. ‘Good job I’m nobody’s fool then, isn’t it?’

‘No.’ Narelle cocked her head to one side. ‘I can see you’re not. It wouldn’t do to get ideas above your station though; you’d be totally out of your depth. I’d hate to see you drown.’

The headache was fading but, emotionally exhausted, Skye wondered how much more she could take. She’d been threatened, bashed, and scared out of her wits, all in the space of a morning. However, she wasn’t going to let a spoilt bitch like Narelle get the better of her. By sheer willpower alone she stood her ground. ‘Don’t worry about me Ms Keating. Hunter keeps a close eye on me. Apparently he watches me… a lot, or so I’m told.’

She saw the taunt hit home, smugly pleased when Narelle’s eyes fired up. If looks could kill, Skye reckoned she’d be stone cold on the floor.

‘Does he really? And what would happen if someone with influence should suggest this scheme be scrapped? Where would that leave you, I wonder? Back inside?’

Skye’s stomach clutched. Maybe she’d gone too far goading Narelle, but the woman was so far up herself, she just begged to be baited. She bit her tongue and said nothing.

Narelle made a sound in her throat like a contented cat. ‘Exactly. I’m glad we’ve had an opportunity to chat. I’m sure we understand each other perfectly now.’ Running her eye around the room, she shuddered. ‘I don’t know how David stands working in this place. I always feel the need to be fumigated when I leave.’

Two days later, Skye rolled over in bed, ready to punch ‘I do’ on her oath of allegiance wake-up screen, then blinked at the date displayed. She felt her lips curl in a smile. She’d almost forgotten. Not only was it a full day off, but it was also her eighteenth birthday.

She visualised a long hot shower with the jets on full, then watching a raunchy adult holo instead of re-runs of Chunky Bunkins and the Exploding Onion - Lexie’s latest fad – while vegging out on soy chips with faux sour cream and salsa. She stretched luxuriously, feeling only the slightest twinge in her side. One whole day entirely to herself.

Her klip bleeped just after she’d got home from dropping Lexie at school. ‘What?’

In the monitor Ashleigh’s gem-studied nose wrinkled, her eyes narrowed. ‘Is that any way to speak to your oldest and closest friend? If you’re going to be crabby I won’t wish you a happy birthday.’

Skye’s mood changed for the better. Ashleigh was the one person in the world who’d know the significance of the date. ‘Sorry, thanks, hi.’

‘Hmm. Okay, here’s the deal. Alberto’s got a private family thingy happening in the cafe tonight. At first I thought he’d want me to wait on tables and like that, but he reckons his gazillion sisters and cousins will have it covered, so I’m clear after five thirty. S-o-o.’ Skye sank into a chair as Ashleigh paused for breath. ‘I thought, you, me, party-time!’

‘I dunno, Ash,’ Skye sighed. ‘I’ve got Lexie and work in the morning.’ She winced at her friend’s pained expression. Okay, she was acting middle- aged. She didn’t want to take too much advantage of Maxine, but… ‘There is someone I could ask for Lex,’ she began.

‘Oh come on, Skye,’ she pleaded. ‘You’ve been home ages and we still haven’t caught up. Look, I know things have been mega-foul for you, what with… you know, thingy and everything, but you need to get out, juice up, just hang. She gestured through the screen with a multi-ringed finger. ‘Lucifer’s, eight o’clock, be there.’

As the killer drove into the grimy outskirts of White City he slowed. The air was thick and filmy; a yellow smog hanging low over crumbling roofs. His lip curled. How could it have come to this? Picking a street at random, he sat back to consider. Sadly, this must be his last outing. The mission was too close to completion to jeopardise it now; the culmination of nine years of planning just a few days away. He felt a tingle of excitement.

The cold weather had driven most people indoors, but a solitary small girl played with a stick in the gutter, poking at a sloppy substance floating there. Her eyes were p-ssy and half-gummed together by infection. Green snot hung from her nostrils. Disease here was rife. He leant forward, interested, resting his hands on the controls. ‘Will it be you?’ he considered. But the child, bored with her game, wandered off.

A door opened. The young man was tall and black and called to someone inside over his shoulder, before running away up the street. ‘Don’t wait up, Dad. I’ll be late back.’

The killer pulled on his gloves, his prey decided. There’d be no problem gaining access. Nobody ever questioned him. He was an expert at walking the tightrope between two lives; playing this double game was second nature to him now. And later he’d have a private celebration - give himself a reward for all his hard work. It was risky, but all the more exciting. It was time Skye Forrester and he became intimately acquainted.

Bursting to its dubious rafters, Lucifer’s night club hit all five of your senses the minute you stepped inside. Dark, hot, reeking of cheap perfume, sweat, alcohol and drugs - some legal, some Skye doubted Hunter would approve - music screamed from loudspeakers spearing straight through your ears. Strobe lights, pulsing with every beat, bathed the gyrating bodies on the dance floor in a hellish red glow whilst, on a raised platform at one end, a gigantic hologram devil ruled over his realm.

Skye stood for a moment soaking it in. It was a while since she’d been here, but nothing had changed.

‘Can I get you a drink, or something more X-t-r-e-e-m?’ One glance at the guy who’d swaggered over told her he’d been sampling already. God, what a loser. She aimed a well placed elbow as his hand crept up her thigh.

‘No, thanks.’ She skirted past. ‘I’m meeting a friend.’

Most of the tables grouped around the walls were busy with couples in varying stages of collapse. Ashleigh, thankfully, was an exception. She grinned when Skye pushed through the dancers, and joined her.

Mouthing their hellos against the din, Skye eased onto the bench space Ashleigh had saved for her.

‘I started without you,’ Ashleigh yelled. She poured sulphurous liquid into a glass and slid it across the table. ‘Brimstone. Many happys and all that.’

‘Thanks. God, this place,’ Skye shouted. ‘Is the place to get picked up; I’ve been hit on three times since I got here.’

‘In that short skirt and with your legs I’m not surprised. So why aren’t you dancing?’ Ashleigh’s grey eyes shone with fun. She’d had a face painting since last Skye had seen her. Some sort of green winged creature decorated her right cheek, the long, crested tail trailing down the side of her neck. It went well with her straight auburn hair and long, lanky frame. She was currently dressed as an elf. ‘I’m on a promise for later, so you go ahead.’ As she spoke, she raised her glass to the barman, who winked back.

‘Him? You’re not serious?’ Skye gaped at her in amazement. ‘Ash, he’s had every girl in the place. He’s a dick on legs.’

‘’Ain’t that the truth. Hallelujah.’

Skye laughed, feeling the weight of the last few days lift from her shoulders. She and Ashleigh went back a long way. She was young and, if not entirely free, could relax for one night in her company knowing Lexie was safe and being cared for. ‘Cheers,’ she said, taking a sip of the drink. ‘Bloody hell!’ It seared her tongue, scorching right down to her toes.

Spluttering, she held her hand over her blazing mouth. ‘What is this stuff, paint stripper? It’s burnt half my throat off’.

Ashleigh put a finger on the bottom of her glass, tilted it to her lips. ‘Get it down, girl. Loosen up. We’ll find you a bloke in no time.’

Eyes watering, Skye swallowed some more; it was marginally less caustic. ‘You know my rep; my prince can stay out there kicking his heels.’ She shook her head at a hovering hopeful who looked like the before part on a before-and-after makeover show. ‘And I don’t intend kissing a lot of frogs on the off chance they’ll morph into someone tall and dark with icy eyes and a simmering dangerous edge.’

‘You sound like you’re describing someone you know. Skye?’ Ashleigh suddenly plonked her glass down, splashing yellow liquid over the table, and peered into Skye’s face. ‘I don’t think it’s the lights… yeah, you’re blushing. You’ve got someone, haven’t you? Come on, dish the dirt. Who is it? Someone at work? Is he in uniform? God, I love a uniform.’

‘I am so not blushing. There’s nobody,’ she said firmly, shaking her head as Ashleigh continued to grin. ‘I’m projecting a type that’s all. I’d rather you dish the dirt on everything that’s happened to you since I’ve been away. Solar tattoo by the way.’

As always, when the conversation turned to her, Ashleigh was easily diverted. ‘You like? I’m in a Middle Earth faze at the moment. I saw the re-make of that old DVD and got kind of caught up. Got the one ring pierced through my navel.’

They were well into the second bottle of Brimstone and singing raucously along with the band, when a familiar figure caught Skye’s eye at the bar.

‘Hey, Ash.’ She cupped a hand to her ear. ‘Back in a minute.’ None too steady, she weaved her way to the counter and tapped King on the shoulder.

He turned, his smile expectant, and then all the colour drained out of his face.

‘Skye! You’re the last person I expected to see.’ His eyes flicked to the door as if he intended to bolt. ‘Are you alone?’

‘I’m with a girlfriend. Don’t worry, I won’t dob you in.’

He relaxed although she noticed he’d rolled onto the balls of his feet in case he needed to run.

Skye suddenly remembered the tracker. Damn. Hunter had said only in emergencies, but she could never be sure if he was listening. ‘Let’s dance,’ she suggested.

Taking his arm, she led him towards the nearest loudspeaker where Insanity was screeching out their latest hit. They had to dance cheek to cheek to hear each other speak which felt a bit odd, she reckoned, like necking with your brother. ‘What made you split?’ she queried. ‘Hunter went into meltdown. You’re in big trouble if they find you.’

They circled on the spot, swaying to the music, being bumped by the crowd. ‘I told you I was never going to hang around, then they dumped all that homework crap on us. Nah! Decided then, the first chance I got I was gone. I was in the refectory getting a coke when the lights went out. Man, it was like a gift from God. No cameras, interceptors knocked out, guards running around like chooks with their heads chopped off. I just walked out the main entrance, was over the wall and gone.’

‘I saw you, from my window, I saw you running along the wall. I didn’t say anything. Wanted to give you a head start.’

‘No kidding. Thanks, I owe you. So you’re a snatcher now, eh?’

She hesitated for one second. ‘Um, not yet. A trainee cadet. If I survive my probationary period, I can enrol as a proper cadet; go to the Academy.’ Stubbornly, she pushed thoughts of death threats away. ‘It’s been pretty boring so far,’ she said. ‘I’m mostly stuck in HQ while the others go out and do the juicy stuff.’

‘Isn’t it weird seeing it from the other side? I figure it’d be weird.’

A trickle of sweat ran down her back. King’s body was hotter than hell. The brimstone was swilling uncomfortably in her gut. She shifted back a fraction as the song changed. ‘I’m getting used to it, and the money’s handy. What are you up to, or can’t you tell me?’

King cocked his head to one side. ‘Can I trust you?’

She poked him in the chest. ‘Maybe you’d better not. Just don’t do drugs, okay? I don’t want to find you in HQ charged with pushing X.’

‘Nah, my sister over-dosed; dealer sold her some bad stuff. I don’t touch it.’ He shook his head, glanced from side to side. ‘But I got wind of something. A cousin of a geezer I know knows a bloke who works in this place. Really solar, you know what I’m saying?’ He tapped his nose. ‘Gonna see if he can get me a job there. Ace perks if you can keep your mouth shut.’

‘O-kay. Totally confused.’ They circled one more time before Skye broke away. Circling, she decided, wasn’t a good idea right now. ‘Just be careful, yeah? I’ve got to get back to my friend.’

‘Sure. Good to see you, Skye. And thanks again for keeping your mouth shut.’

He melted into the crowd; a fugitive on the run. His decision, but it didn’t stop her worrying about him.

Ashleigh toasted her with her glass. ‘Not all frogs then. You seem chummy.’

‘Chummy?’

She laughed, topped up their glasses to finish the bottle. ‘Something I heard in a holo I watched about some old war. Who was he? And why isn’t he taking you home?’

‘Ash, get your mind north of your gold-ringed navel. He’s a casual friend, and I’d rather you forgot you saw me with him, okay?’ Because she was thirsty she drained her glass.

‘Okay, Miss Too-Fussy-By-Half.’ Ashleigh was slumped half across the table, propped on an elbow, one cheek scrunched in a hand. It made the mythical creature list to one side.

‘Look, I’m about ready to split, Damien’s finished his shift. You okay to get back on your own?’ As she spoke, the barman appeared with a coat slung over one arm.

Skye nodded. Her head was reeling from the heat and the amount of alcohol she’d downed. ‘I need to sober up before I think of going home. I’ll order a coffee and then get the larsh shush… the lasht… oops. You know those things…long, green…people shit in them.’

Ashleigh seemed to find that hysterically funny. ‘Think you’ll find that’s sit,’ she snorted. ‘But, then again…’ Damien led an unsteady Ashleigh away. ‘Stay safe.’

‘You too. Keep in touch.’

She was staring glassy-eyed into a cup of mock coffee, when she felt someone slide onto the bench next to her. ‘Go way,’ she said, without looking up. ‘I don’t wanna dansh, I don’t wanna drink, and I sure as hell don’t wanna…’

‘What the devil are you doing in a dive like this?’

‘Hmm – that’s funny. Devil, Lucifer’s.’ A small part of her brain asked why Hunter should be sitting next to her looking dark and sexy and drop-dead gorgeous, but right now she didn’t much care. ‘Hello,’ she said snuggling closer. ‘I’m collating… no I’m collecting. I’m collecting informashion vital to the case.’ She waggled a finger at him. ‘Do you wanna hear it, Hunter, do you? You’ll think I’m very clever when I remember what it is.’ It felt right to rest her head on his shoulder.

‘Get up. You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.’ Without ceremony, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her off the bench, then marched her through the whirling dancers to the door.

‘Hey, I haven’t finished my…’ The words jammed in her throat as the cold air outside hit her. All she remembered was the feeling that all the bones in her legs had somehow turned to marshmallow, and then suddenly the world was swaying back and forth and her face was pressed against Hunter’s shoulder again.

She started to protest about being carried, then decided to enjoy the moment. The cold air was clearing fog from her brain. Close contact with Hunter’s body was doing something quite different to her stomach. Risking a peek at his face, she expected to see his profile set in his normal scowl. His eyes slid down to her, an amused smile hovering on his lips. ‘What am I going to do with you, Forrester?’

She sighed. ‘You tracked me down, didn’t you? Used your flipping electronics to keep tabs on me? I should be cross, but I’m not.’

‘You should be thankful. That club’s crawling with low-life. Somebody could easily have slipped you some Slapper or Mate, and you’d wake up in a strange bloke’s bed not knowing what you’d done, with how many, and how the hell you got there.’

‘Did you have audio on?’

Hunter said nothing.

‘You did, didn’t you?’ Now she struggled to sit up. ‘Put me down! I can walk. Damn it, you said you’d only use it in emergencies.’ The short purple skirt she’d worn for the evening had ridden to her waist, and her hair was a tangled mess. Attack, she decided, was the only way to regain any dignity from this humiliating situation. ‘So, what? You don’t trust me to keep state secrets, is that it? Or maybe you’re intending to give any bloke I meet the third degree? Is that part of the plan? Lock me up in a safe house and expect me to live like a nun. Who do you think you are, my freaking father?’

‘That place violates every public noise level code,’ was his only comment, but he stood her on her feet. ‘Get in the car.’

More than annoyed, she sulked for a while, then decided it was a waste of time. Hunter would do what he wanted, when he wanted and there was nothing she could do about it.

‘So, apart from getting drunk,’ he said, as they sped through the night. ‘Did you have a good time with your friend?’ When Skye said nothing, he glanced over. ‘What’s the face for?’

‘You see, breathe and eat with it. I’m surprised you didn’t know that, sir.’

‘Funny aren’t you?’

‘I amuse myself constantly.’

He muttered something under his breath, but the atmosphere between them dissolved.

‘Nice car,’ she remarked. She didn’t know what it was, just that its sleek lines suited him almost as much as the Dart. Expensive, she thought. A Lieutenant’s pay must be mega to afford something like that.

When they reached her home, he followed her to the door.

‘Do you want to come in?’ she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

He was staring at her, his eyes very dark, very focussed. Her heart thumped. Slowly, she turned.

‘Skye.’ He took a step forward, ran his fingers down her arm, letting them find her hand.

‘Yes?’ Butterflies hatched in her stomach and migrated to her throat. If she wasn’t careful they’d escape through her mouth. His gaze lowered to her lips. ‘Yes,’ she repeated. It was no longer a question.

His mouth curved into the faintest of smiles, one eyebrow rose. ‘Be careful little one,’ he whispered. ‘You don’t know what you’d be unleashing here.’ Slowly he slid his free hand around her neck, holding her gaze as he lowered his head.

‘It’s going to happen,’ was her only thought, as her eyelids fluttered shut and her heart raced. ‘It’s really going to happen.’

On his wrist, his klip bleeped. Abruptly he dropped her hand, straightened. ‘Saved by the bell,’ she heard him mutter. ‘Hunter.’

Crushed by his abrupt rejection, she watched Hunter’s eyes harden. Suddenly he was all snatcher, the transformation sliding over him like a cloak.

‘Lieutenant, we have another one: sixty eight year old, black male, 105 Burns Road, White City. His son came home from the pub and found him stone cold in a chair.’

‘Damn. Damn it!’ Is the scene secured?’

‘Yes, sir. Officers Smith and Newman are attending. They asked you be notified.’

‘Tell them I’m on my way.’ He disengaged. Not seeming to notice her hurt expression, the way she was biting her lip to stop it trembling, or the way her cheeks burned with humiliation, he nodded towards the house. ‘Go inside now, Skye, and secure the doors.’ He’d almost reached the car when he stopped. ‘I nearly forgot,’ he said, turning. ‘It’s a bit late, but happy birthday.’