FF (May 2013) April Worth - Ember Flowers

Aloof, cold, abrupt. Fellow Officers showed Police Sergeant Joanne Myers a cautious respect. A statuesque beauty, and emotional recluse, her job made for a perfect distraction from the turmoil at home.

Despite her best efforts, Joanne soon finds herself unravelling. Her perceptions of herself shaken to the core. Not because of the social tightrope at work, or her other mixed blessings, but from the kindness of a stranger.

Jean Patterson was content to live her life amongst the birds and the wildflowers in the Australian countryside. Longing for love lost and memories past, tending her horses and managing her landscaping business with another loveable rogue.

Through an unexpected friendship and a blossoming attraction they find themselves searching for more. Doubt, bitter rivals, and the ties that bind lead the two women down a winding road of self discovery and finding home.

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Sample

Chapter 1

Chapped lips from working outside spoke into the hands-free unit. The rhythmic hum of the idling engine as she waited at the lights. The old utility was due for retirement, she just found it hard to let go of. Like a well worn pair of jeans that fit. She had a lot of those. Her shovels and spades rattled in the back. At least they were new.

A quick glance in the rear view mirror. The clouds fluffy and buoyant on the horizon at the day’s end.

A grin that made her look rakishly younger crossing her face. Her skin the colour of coffee with cream and sugar.

“Yeah Scott I know, listen don’t worry about it, the guy’s a dick head. I don’t care how much he flashes his cash around.” It wasn’t how she really felt, but Scott was a good guy, he’d been her apprentice, and eventually a keen business partner.

“C’mon Jean, that’s crap and you know it.”

The client has been demanding, excessively so. Some things can’t be done overnight. A beautiful modern courtyard garden with imported orchids and paper daisies was one such thing. Scott had racked his brain looking for a supplier. He’d come up empty with the time constraints, saying the earliest they could sign off was next week.

The client hadn’t been happy, and her wallet had suffered. A half started job and expenses that might have to be written off. Labour, suppliers, her time spent sketching up a stunning jigsaw of colour, light and form.

The freeway had lost the frenzied pace of peak hour, at almost seven p.m. It was just her and a trickle of cars behind her. The lights went green, and she lifted her foot off the clutch, easing into a cruising pace with the other traffic.

A sigh from his stubbled face. “So what do you want me to do?”

The sandy haired man always with a crisply ironed shirt. At least he was presentable now. She smiled to herself as she remembered his first day on the job. Wasn’t afraid to get dirt under his nails. Worked hard. That’s why she kept him around, the finer details, like not wearing flip flops on a work site had to be learnt.

“Wait till you hear from him, I’ll give him a call if you don’t."

“K’ Jean. Thanks for not busting my balls.”

She glanced into the rear view again. Another set of lights. A white sedan pulled up behind her as she slowed for the red. The driver wore sunglasses. A woman in her late twenties, angular jawline, slender straight nose. A mouth pulled into an annoyed scowl.

“It’s OK Scott, go home to your wife, jump in the pool with your kid.”

“Will do. Coffee tomorrow?”

“Seven a.m. Be there or be square.”

“Wow Jean, did those hip young teenagers at the mall teach you that one?”

“Blow me Scottie. See you tomorrow.”

A chuckle on the line as the call hung up with a click and soft beeps.

She sighed, running her hand through her choppy chocolate hair. Pixie cut and feathered soft. Wisps of grey just starting to show through, losing a ten grand project overnight didn’t help. Scottie was trying, not much he could’ve done. Dark expressive eyes looked back at her in the mirror.

The light went green.

Her entire body jolted forward. The mint scented pine tree whapped against the windscreen. Work boot firmly planted on the brake. A crunch as her rear indicator tinkled to the ground. She turned in her seat, looking at the driver behind her.

“Great. Perfect end to a perfect day. Learn to fuckin’ drive.”

A creaking thump as a door closed, she got out to inspect the damage. Her soles crunching on gravel, her tan cargos creasing as she walked toward the other car. The driver hadn’t gotten out, and was sitting bolt upright clutching the wheel.

Jogging quickly over to the window, rapping her knuckles on the glass. “Hey you OK?”

The woman’s head snapped to her direction, as though she’d just realised what had happened, Jean’s truck had obviously just materialised in her path. There were no other cars in sight.

A shake of pale strands pulled into a tight tail, bangs tapered at the front. The lips were still pressed hard. Anxious. She asked again, this time motioning for the driver to roll down her window. The younger woman complied, a fingertip touching a button to make the glass slide down in an even recession.

“You OK?”

A nod.

“You wanna get out and look at this? Think you copped the worst of it.”

The young woman moved stiffly, unclipping her belt and pulling herself out. Leaving the door open and the belt sliding back of it’s own accord. An occasional car whined past ever so often. The trees sighed softly, parting the road between hills and suburbia. Rows of terracotta rooves dotted the valley below, a subtle tangy scent of eucalyptus blossom.

Jean took a step back and went over to her car. Hands on belted hips as the younger woman joined her. The gardener watched her. Taller than Jean and statuesque, probably athletic but walked with a slight hunch. Maybe she was tired, maybe it was self confidence. Either way she didn’t look pleased.

“Yours hardly has a scratch?” A breath parting her lips in surprise.

The older woman crossed her arms over her chest. Light olive skin kissed by the sun. “Make ‘em to last. Besides, you hit metal tray, worst that could happen was a busted tail light, see exhibit A.” Pointing at the mangled plastic in orange and red with an annoyed frown of her own.

“I see, well, sorry about that. I’m am insured.”

“Damn well hope so.” A grit of her teeth. Her fire was beginning to recede, she expected some sort of rebuttal, even though the blonde woman was swiftly in the wrong. She just seemed like the type. The other driver gave her a pointed look, taking off her sunglasses and resting them on top of her head.

Suddenly she seemed all business. The rosy lip glossed mouth spoke more coherently. Smooth creamy skin and a dotting of freckles over high cheekbones. Jean’s eyes flickered over her. She probably coaches netball on weekends and belongs to a cycle club. A chardonnay sipper.

“Do you have your details?, I’ll give you mine then I’ll get out of your hair?” Brisk and to the point.

A few steps around to the driver’s side door, a creaking clank. Pulled open to grab her wallet. The other woman was scribbling her details onto a card of her own. Leaning against the damaged bonnet of her car. Slender arms moved briskly. The sunglasses came back down over the younger woman’s grey eyes. She seemed impatient to leave.

Jean blinked for an instant, the grey, it was an interesting shade.

An arm extended, holding out the white and blue card. Jean took it from her fingertips and watched the young woman as she lingered a second in front of her crumpled bonnet, before stepping back into the driver’s seat.

The white sedan pulled away. All shiny and new besides the crushed in bonnet and bumper. The driver gave her one last look in the rear view as she drove away.

A curved eyebrow raised in surprise as she read the card.

“Senior Constable Joanne Myers.”

Chapter 2

The start of her shift. Another missed call flashing angrily on her phone. She ignored it, shoving the device back into her pocket with a sigh.

The blonde tapped the pen rapidly against the notepad. A staccato rhythm of frustration. A heated fight, a car accident, followed by guilt trips and a restless night. To make it worse, she had to wait through endless options from a droning call waiting service.

“Yes I’ll hold..”

She looked down at the card. The woman had been understanding at least. Usually it was her being the calm assertive one. Resolving disputes, attending accidents, and being the voice of reason were every day occurrences in her line of work. She’d been doing it since she was twenty two, and hadn’t looked back. It hadn’t always felt like living in a fog.

She spoke to the operator, outlining the problem.

“Sure..her name is Jean Patterson..” Another sigh. “Yes, I’ll hold.”

The older woman looked like she had a hint of South American in her, judging by the dash of olive in the tanned skin, the dark eyes and soft lashes. She’d become good at guessing nationalities. All part of the job.

Probably a dyke. The short cropped hair and minimal touches of makeup were a fine indication. She smirked. Joanne wasn’t judgmental, she just couldn’t afford to wear her opinions on her sleeve. It just wasn’t what stoked her fire. Her estranged husband certainly did that, despite her better judgement.

A lingering attraction that was used to full advantage. They weren’t right for each other, It was hard to escape. Hanging on to good times made her forget the bad.

He’d been calling all morning. She hadn’t picked up.

The fight they’d had was re treading all the familiar ground, but his words had been particularly venomous. It had upset her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing so. Instead she’d rear ended a perfectly stationary vehicle on her way home the evening prior.

A solid, neatly quaffed body walked in past her desk and waved. “Morning Jo.” He could see she was on the phone, the handset hung loosely from her ear. He made a flicking motion with his hand in front of his mouth, she gave him a thumbs up. Black tea one sugar. Too much of a health nut for milk. Not the real kind, anyway.

She was tall and lean, a 5”9 package of flax blonde, athletic and angular. Somehow through all the weapon drills and walking the beat she’d kept her femininity. A dusting of shadow subtle on the lids, a penchant for high street fashion when out of her uniform.

Finally she’d gotten the details squared away, she put down the handset with a roll of her eyes. Her tea arrived just in time. She tugged at her shoulder, evening up the dark blue tab with its blazing white chevrons. Promoted to Sergeant last week.

“Here ya go..Sarge.”

It made her huff and shake her head, he enjoyed nicknames. At least he wasn’t calling her ‘Claudia’ anymore. The Schiffer family would no doubt be relieved.

“How was your day off Myers?” He sat across from her and sucked down his coffee. A solid part Scotsman through and through, his hybrid accent sometimes tinged with the burr.

She shrugged her shoulders, non-committal. “Fine Roy, usual stuff.”

The station wasn’t as large as the depot in the city, but it wasn’t a quaint little posting either. In the middle of suburbia, no one would guess that there was a drug den two streets down. Teenagers did burn outs in the lot outside in the evening when the building was unmanned. Presently, a handful of Officers were either clocking on or heading out, today she was doing the morning shift.

A call on her radio, the dull crackle getting her attention. Her thumb flicked the toggle as she answered.

“Myers.”

***

She found herself at the wheel again, her squad car rolled to an easy halt after cutting through morning traffic with the sirens on. Commuters got out of her way when the V8 engine kicked in and the red and blue lights commanded attention.

Doors slapping shut, she left her cap in the glove compartment. Adjusted her utility belt in a practised gesture. She and Roy walked toward the scene, a hand making a visor over her eyes as she looked up. Several stories high, glossy grey walls and lots of glass. Her tight high ponytail fluttering, brushing over her shoulders with the breeze.

“Roy? See if you can find the hotel manager, I’m going to take a quick look around.”

“OK, meet you in the foyer in five.”

A quick chat with the middle aged woman with the gold nametag and concerned look. They’d established that the man clinging to the railing above was formerly employed here, and had already been drinking. He wasn’t coming down any time soon. They’d been called quickly, tasked with talking him down, keeping him calm, while the fire department arrived.

Onward quickly to the lift, not much they could do from the ground other than stare up and wave.

A soft ping of the elevator, expensive carpets, room numbers and a swipe of the card. Their man decided the penthouse balcony was the most apt place for a swan dive.

As the senior Officer, she edged forward first, his head turned as he heard the door unlock. Facing the assault of gravity front on, his arms strained behind him as he held on to the polished bar. Backs of his knees pressed against the glass. Copper hair sifted in the wind.

Roy stood back.

“Sir, my name is Sergeant..”

“Go away! Can’t you see I’m about to off myself?’

Standing still, she put on her best calm voice, coolheaded from years of experience.

“Sir, that’s a big decision, maybe you’d like to talk about it before doing anything rash?”

“Not much to talk about.” His voice was a bitter slur.

Roy’s radio crackled and he turned away to answer it, he spoke, whispering softly.

She took a step forward when he turned his head. “It’s Jamie, right?”

His voice came out a little hoarse, the exertion of hanging on increasing his stress.

“Yeah. Jamie. They tell you that down stairs?”

She nodded, then affirmed with her voice when she realised he couldn’t see her. No sudden moves, keep him calm. “That’s right Jamie, they’re worried about you.”

He laughed, the sarcasm rich in his voice. “They don’t give a fuck, they fired me yesterday.” A sweaty hand gripped the rail tighter, he turned to look at her and she held up her hand.

“Jamie, be careful. I’m staying right here OK?” Another step closer when his head turned to look at the crowd below.

“OK.”

“Jamie, listen really carefully. Your girlfriend down there doesn’t want to see anything bad happen to you, right?”

He panted, a scuffle of a plastic tread on gritty concrete. “Lisa’s down there?”

“That’s right. She’s hoping you’ll come back over this side of the railing, where we can work this out.”

“Not a lot to work out. Lisa dumped me this morning.”

She frowned. “That’s too bad, but I’m sure you still don’t want her to see this, right?”

A sigh. “I don’t care anymore.”

Another couple of steps closer. Another foot or so and she’d be able to grab on, adrenaline flushed hot through her veins.

“Jo..” A hushed whisper of caution from behind her. She heard a siren, the fire department was arriving down stairs. They’d have a basket, they could bring him down. She just had to keep him talking.

“What the hell is that?” Another ragged breath as he strained to look down.

Her heels wanted to edge forward. ”Don’t worry about it Jamie. Just focus on me. It’s the fire department. They’ve been called just in case. People are worried about you..”

He shuffled on the ledge, changing his grip. His foot turning a little.

For a second he glanced over his shoulder, skin pasty, he looked faint. She wanted to rush forward.

“Jamie?”

“I..I don’t feel so good..”

“It’s OK..just listen to me..” Her arm extending as she stepped closer. The banister creaked.

Her grey eyes flew open, it seemed to happen in slow motion. One moment she was standing still, a few feet away. The next she was hanging onto him with all her might, her slender fore arms under hooks straining to take his weight. His sudden slip had driven her flying forward. A quick blind grab just in time.

Roy had run to her, and was pulling her backward. They all crashed to the floor of the balcony in a heap of momentum.