To Snatch a Thief

CHAPTER SIX



Day two at the fun house: ‘You’re late,’ Dawson stated as Skye slid into her seat. Sauntering past, she threw a smirk over her shoulder. ‘Off to a good start I see.’

She’d had to walk – well jog really, but Skye bit her tongue and contented herself with just thinking acid retorts in her head.

At ten o’clock her klip bleeped, jolting her out of the stupor reading age-old eye witness statements had put her in. People were so thick, she’d decided. One eye-witness reporting seeing a short, fat, black youth leaving the scene of a robbery, while another swore blind it was a white female with frizzy blonde hair. No wonder crimes went unsolved.

‘This is Ruby Erskine, Alexie Forrester’s teacher,’ the chubby woman on the screen said. ‘Am I speaking to his sister?’

Her empty stomach clutched. ‘Yes, is he alright?’ Sick, ill, hospital were images that came to mind as she frantically searched Ruby’s lived-in face.

The woman raised a fleshy palm. ‘Yes, don’t worry. He is, but I’m afraid he got into a fight with one of the other boys and bloodied his nose. The boy’s mother had to take him home.’

‘Oh, God.’ She covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Do you know what the fight was about?’

His teacher didn’t look annoyed, at least that was something, Skye thought, more concerned than angry, and now her face softened further. ‘As a matter of fact… Today, yes, but this wasn’t the first incident of its kind. Lexie appears to be a very angry little boy. Anyway,’ she continued as Skye closed her eyes. ‘As you know, we had show and tell this morning. As a rule Lexie’s prefers to sit and watch rather than take part in class activities, but I was pleased when he stood up and showed us your holiday scrapbook. He was doing really well describing all the lovely things you and he did on the beach. But then… well, we encourage them to use the toilets at break time, but Lexie had refused and I’m afraid, in front of the class, he had an accident.’

‘Oh, Lex,’ Skye groaned.

‘Obviously,’ Ruby continued. ‘It does happen at this age, but some of the boys sniggered. Lexie just walked over to them and waded in. Look.’ She tilted her head revealing a tiny gold stud in her ear. ‘I know a little of his history. He’s a good boy at heart, but we do have some concerns. He’s obviously missing a father figure in his life and boys do need that male influence. Our head mistress has suggested you take him to Dr Lewis - he’s a child psychologist attached to the Education Department - for assessment.’

Skye’s whole world crumbled around her. She missed her dad too. She missed his easy laugh, the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled; the way he always knew what she was feeling and the right things to say. She needed him now. She was failing her brother and now outsiders would dig around in his head. With a sinking heart, she heard herself asking for Dr Lewis’s number.

It could have been because she was tired; probably was because she hadn’t eaten and her sugar levels were zero but, to her eternal shame, she found herself crying. With her head in her hands, she lowered it to the desk and tried to stifle the sobs that bubbled up from her chest. Big rogue tears plopped out of her eyes and soaked her sleeve; her nose ran. Gross.

‘Forrester, you don’t get paid to… What ever’s the matter?’ Through the curtain of her hair, she saw Hunter standing in front of her desk. Great, she thought, that’s all she needed. ‘Out,’ he ordered, and waited till she’d risen from her seat, then strode ahead as she frantically swiped at her face. She stared at his back, ignoring the not so whispered comments from others as they left the incident room and the strange looks they got in the corridor outside.

‘In here.’ He opened a door marked Soft Interview Room, which she found to contain easy chairs and a low table, stood aside for her to enter, closed the door, then rounded on her. ‘Well?’

If he’d been nice, she’d have wept buckets. As he was standing there scowling, her back went up. At least that was something to be grateful for. ‘If you must know,’ she began, aware that damp curls were clinging to her cheeks, I’ve had one hell of a morning.’ With both hands she shoved at her hair.

‘Join the club. Now what’s so special about your shitty morning?’ Arms folded across his chest, he waited.

And for some reason, it all came tumbling out. Sinking onto a chair she told him about the bedwetting; their wish-list scrapbook; her guilt at being a bad influence on her brother; how she struggled to control a six year old boy; how much she missed her parents; how, only four months after her mother’s death, she’d watched the father she’d worshipped fade away, and how, even now, the panic she’d felt then came back to haunt her in dreams. She’d never dumped like this to anyone. Why it should be to him, of all people, she had no idea, but she’d a nagging feeling she’d live to regret it.

When she’d finished, he unfolded his arms, walked to the window. For a long moment he just stood there studying the view. With his back to her, he said, ‘Have you no-one? Aunts, uncles, cousins?

‘No, there’s just me.’

Turning, he lifted a shoulder. ‘What do damn shrinks know? Boy’s fight; it’s part of our make-up. Hell, I blooded plenty of noses when I was growing up. Doesn’t mean your brother’s going to end up a hoodlum. Sounds to me like the other kid asked for it.’

That’s all it took. Her eyes filled again. ‘But they’re going to try to take him from me,’ she choked out. ‘They’re going to look at my record and say I’m bad for him. I know I was, but it’s different now.’ Dripping like a tap, she pressed her fingers to her eyes. ‘I promised, I promised Dad I’d look after him, and I’m doing my best. He begged me to keep us together. He made me promise before he died, that we’d stay together.’ Her eyes stung, her chest heaved. Miserably, she conceded, she was a mess.

All hint of sympathy died. ‘Don’t,’ he warned. Don’t start all that nonsense again.’ Clearly uncomfortable, he stuck his hands in his pockets, frowning at her through narrowed eyes as thought she was an alien species. ‘God, am I expected to be a nursemaid as well? Give me the wretched school’s number,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll speak to them. Now go fix your face.’

Like hell she would. Her head jerked up at his tone. He was treating her like some feeble female who needed a man to sort everything out. Go fix your face! Skye Forrester didn’t need anyone, especially not him. ‘No you won’t,’ she shot back, angry at the way he’d made her feel. ‘It’s none of your business. He’s my brother and I’ll deal with it one way or another.’

She watched his shocked expression darken to a scowl and wondered how often anyone dared talk back to him. ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘Make the psychologist’s appointment, and if they recommend a foster home, see that your visits to your brother are on your own time.’

That was hitting below the belt. Lifting her chin, she glowered at him, hoping he wouldn’t see how his barbs had hit home. But before she could think of an answer, he stepped closer and, bending over, put a hand on each arm of the chair, caging her in. ‘Let’s get this straight,’ he stated. ‘You’re here to do a job. Anything that affects your ability to do that job concerns me. The same goes for everyone under my command. Now, the faster you accept that fact and learn to obey orders, the better we’ll get on. So forward the school’s number to my klip, and stop behaving like an idiot, and Skye,’ he added, as she glared at him. ‘Leave home a bit earlier in future.’ With that parting shot, he left. When she got back from the ladies five minutes later, there was a hot cup of coffee on her desk.

The day passed much as the first, except the demands on her fodder gathering services were less, due to most of the team being out in the field. For that she was monumentally grateful as, by lunchtime, the very smell of food on someone’s breath had her drooling. Nevertheless, she made one brave sortie to the staff cafeteria as an observer, and came away with the basics of a plan which she intended to put into action without delay, and scored half of an abandoned sandwich, palmed from a table by the door.

Hunter had mooched about his office for a while, then with a fleeting glance in her direction, disappeared for the rest of the day. That was something at least. It rankled how she’d spewed out all that baggage in a weak moment, and then, to crown it all, the school had rung back to say, after talking to her boss, they were willing to give Lexie a probationary period of six weeks to see if his behaviour improved. She knew she should be big enough to be grateful, but wasn’t.

She took a detour on her trek home. She hadn’t fenced any items in a while, but Isaac Newton – some parents never think of the consequences when naming a child – was always up for a deal. As she made her way to the lock-ups under an abandoned railway arch where he kept his Aladdin’s cave of stolen goods, Skye pondered on the fact this would be the last time she’d tread this well-worn path. There were the same peeling posters stuck to the walls of the ancient viaduct, advertising everything from shampoo to rock bands; the same scrawny weeds still grew in the gutters.

As she approached, an alley cat slunk from under the spiffy TKG Coupe parked on the cobbles under a grimy street lamp, a wriggling mouse in its jaws. Skye narrowed her eyes at it, begrudging the fact it was, so far, eating better than her tonight. The car’s interior light blinked on as Isaac opened the door and stepped out.

At barely five foot two he was dressed in a wide-striped navy suit with a startling blood red tie. Swamped in a three-quarter length sheepskin coat, which he’d draped over his narrow shoulders, and which matched the sandy colour of his wavy hair, he flashed a smile.

Rings winked on his fingers as he examined Lexie’s klip. ‘Hmm,’ he sighed. I’ve turned out on a night like this, for this? Isaac pulled his nose and pursed his lips as was expected in a transaction. He gave another exaggerated sigh. ‘I should be scoffing real cow steak at You Betta Believe It, right now: medium rare with new spuds dripping in butter, and toasting me lady with a glass of bubbly. She’s not happy, not happy at all.’ A freezing wind howled around the arches. Skye huddled into her coat, hearing her growling stomach complain, and prayed for patience, but this charade was a game that had to be played out before Isaac was ready to part with his money. ‘For one night, Isaac, just one, can’t you forget work?’ he mimicked. ‘A drink, a meal, is it too much to ask?’ Wagging a finger, Isaac looked at her sadly. ‘But it’s Skye Forrester, I told her. ‘How can I refuse an old friend? She always brings me something special, but now…’ He spread his palms, gave a small shake of his head. ‘You ruin me evening, possibly me relationship, for this?’

Skye took her cue. ‘Well, if you don’t want it I’ll flog it down the pub,’ she said. ‘Some geezer was looking for one like this last week, but I wanted to give you first refusal. I’ll head off there later; see if he’s in.’

Isaac looked pained. ‘How could I look at meself in the mirror if I sent you away empty-handed?’ he groaned. ‘I’ll do you a favour, but only as it’s you. Thirty five dollars. It’s the best I can offer.’

‘Sixty five, it’s almost brand new.’

‘You hurt me, Skye. ‘Forty and it’s a deal.’

‘It’s got all the latest features: Holo projection to wall screen; interactive games, music downloads, standard 3D camera, satnav. Sixty and it’s yours.’ She took the klip from him and slipped it into her pocket. ‘But if you really don’t want it…’

Now he almost burst into tears. ‘You think I’m a charity? Fifty dollars.’ Reaching into his coat, he produced a roll of notes, started to peel one off. ‘Not a penny more.’

It wasn’t much but it would buy some essentials. Recognising the end of the game, she spat on her hand, held it out. ‘Okay, done.’