A Nose for Trouble Read online

  “We’re not goin’ anywhere until we teach that bitch not to piss us around.”

  Johnny noted the man’s smirk did little to enhance his pale features.

  “What about Cole? He fucked up, boss. He betrayed us and told me he’d fixed this. Cole swore he’d kill the bitch and that frigging mongrel dog of hers. Then he made up some bullshit story about the cops arriving before he could finish the job. Said she was too fucked up to be any trouble. He’s a fucking liar, boss. He betrayed us all.”

  The odd smile widened, and when Morley replied, Johnny grinned too.

  “Don’t worry. By the time we’re done with Cole, ‘e’ll wish we killed him too.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ELLIE REACHED THE CORNER when the familiar chill raced up her spine. She glanced back at Transfurmations Grooming Salon, but no one was entering or exiting the salon’s doors. Beside her, Charlie paused, pressed herself against Ellie’s leg, and whimpered. There was no doubting it. Someone was spying on her. Instinct and her body’s reactions told her as much. It was there in the goosebumps running along her arms. In the way her hair stood on end at her nape. And the way her heart raced while she fought for control.

  She’d taken Charlie back to the track the day she’d first sensed she was being watched. They’d found nothing except some underage teens drinking beer along the tree-lined verge overlooking the beach. One boy ran. Ridiculous considering she’d advised them to stay still. Charlie bailed him up against a spotted gum. It was enough to ensure the boys accompanied her to the police station without any trouble.

  Given the number of unopened cans in their possession, Ellie knew it wasn’t the boys watching them earlier that morning. They swore they hadn’t seen anyone around either, and she was inclined to believe them. She’d almost felt sorry for the trio at the police station as Wilson warmed to his subject of alcohol abuse and its effects on the human body. Their ashen faces had more to do with his words than the alcohol swirling through them.

  She’d no such empathy for McClane and Henderson when the Senior Sergeant ordered them to clean up after one boy purged his stomach contents all over his office floor. She’d done her share of disinfecting offices and jail cells. The men could have a turn too.

  Neither officer was impressed. From the way McClane glared at Henderson, she figured he’d worked out the commissioner wasn’t planning to attend their small station any time soon and praise him on its impeccable state. Any other time she’d have found it amusing to discover how the First Class Constable intended to extract his revenge, but that tingle along her spine commanded her attention once again.

  She looked back toward the groomers, and a man with his cap pulled low and holding Bernie’s leash exited the salon. It had to be Morley. The Beagle appeared reluctant to follow his lead. Morley wrenched on the leather strap, and Bernie yelped in pain before trotting after him. Nostrils flaring and her jaw clenching as she glared at the jerk for hurting the poor dog, Ellie muttered, “Bastard,” before taking advantage of the distraction. With a command to Charlie, they turned and followed him.

  The man never looked her way. He jogged along the footpath as though he was already late for something, the Beagle stumbling along behind him. He took no notice of the gift shops as he hurried down the street, something she knew should interest a tourist new to the bay. And he wasn’t dressed for a walk on the beach either, as he’d told Lucy he was doing. Ellie wasn’t into the latest fashions, but the expensive-looking jeans and shoes he wore seemed more suited for a club than shuffling through wet sand. Despite his hurry, she and Charlie kept to a steady pace, always keeping them in sight.

  When he drew level with the last room of the bed and breakfast, he stopped and stared at it. A heavily panting Bernie resented the sudden halt and howled his displeasure. A moment later he pawed at the ground, distracted by what Ellie imagined must have been an interesting smell, or a morsel of what might be food.

  What was Morley looking at? Why not enter the building if this was where he was staying?

  Ellie squinted as though she could see through the drawn curtains to reveal the secrets the room contained. Odd they were closed given it was only mid-afternoon. They might not have a view of the beach, but the tranquil gardens they overlooked commanded attention. The shaded seating areas invited one to read a book or enjoy a cool drink. Even its BBQ facilities drew thoughts of relaxation and escape from the heat of a kitchen.

  Beside her, Charlie huffed, her focus on Morley and Bernie. She tilted her head back and her nose quivered, but she didn’t make a sound. There was no need to second guess what captivated the Belgian Shepherd. Ellie knew she was tracking the scent emitting from Bernie’s collar. Both handler and dog stepped forward, Ellie ready to question him, and Charlie keen to follow. Morley took off around the corner, Bernie yipping and barking in protest because they were once more on the move.

  With her left hand pressed to her side as the scar gave another inexplicable twinge, they stopped on the corner. Morley disappeared down another street, but Ellie didn’t follow him. She wasn’t sure what to think. Had he realised they were behind him? Or had he lost his bearings only to find them again and resume his walk?

  The scar gave another throb.

  “Bloody hell.”

  She should have followed Morley, made sure she knew where he was, drawn him into casual conversation. Even if he was a tourist, she’d report him to Animal Welfare, make sure Bernie was safe. All the things she should do, yet instinct told her to follow the hunch that said she’d find her answers in the last room of the Trinket Bay Bed and Breakfast.

  The thought Brennan was nearby wouldn’t leave her. She looked down.

  “Damn it.”

  She snatched her hand away. Once more her body connected to that terrible night and Brennan’s betrayal.

  Would he ever be out of her mind?

  “Charlie, heel,” she called when the dog looked expectantly at her as though questioning why they weren’t following their targets.

  Ellie wasted another five minutes staring at the bed and breakfast, pondering her next move. While she could ask the owners who their guests were easily enough, she’d need a warrant to search the room. Her heart and her thoughts raced. If her instincts were right and Brennan was there, would she, could she do her job?

  A hard lump traversed her throat, its vile taste spreading like poison in her stomach. She tried to tell herself it was nerves, normal in a situation such as this. The truth was, she’d no clear answer to her question.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” echoed around the small bathroom as Brennan poured more disinfectant over the bite marks on his ankle. One of Charlie’s teeth had snagged the hem of his jeans, causing a ragged gash across his flesh as he’d pulled the fabric free. “Frig me,” he muttered as he glared at the bloodstained sock he’d gingerly peeled from his foot as though the offending material were to blame for his misfortune. The newly formed scab he’d torn off in the process allowed more blood to flow. His sock stuck to his skin and its removal took a chunk of flesh with it. One puncture required stitches, and he needed pain relief, but Trinket Bay Hospital’s Emergency Room was the last place Brennan would go. Dipping into Johnny’s supplies wasn’t an option. It was risky enough stealing what he’d taken from the chemist. He doubted the mild painkillers would so much as take the edge off. His ankle throbbed in agreement.

  “Fuck!”

  He’d taken his time getting back to the bed and breakfast. People would have remembered a man limping. Weaving his way through the shadows, he’d made sure no one saw him, especially the staff at the chemist. He’d be fine as long as the wound didn’t get infected, even if it was several hours since Charlie bit him.

  He wouldn’t have stood a chance if they’d been on open ground, but the dog’s twenty odd kilos of muscle hadn’t been enough to stop his momentum over the fence. Had she missed the denim, the bite would have been worse. He didn’t want to think what might have happened if
she’d maintained a decent grip before gravity had taken care of things for him. Although she had dual training, most of Charlie’s work involved drug detection. Though she was more than capable of bringing down an assailant, as she’d proven today, he hated to think what more damage she could have inflicted. And then Elie would have caught him... No, he didn’t want to think about that either.

  Brennan moved from the bathroom to sit on the end of his bed.

  “Shit!” He winced. The pain in his ankle escalated, his movement as he pulled a clean sock over his foot aggravating the injury. He considered wearing his Chinos before deciding on the practicality of jeans. With any luck, Johnny wouldn’t notice the tear, but hiding a limp would be impossible.

  He cleaned up the mess in the bathroom and shoved the bloodstained items and medical supplies into his backpack. He’d get rid of them later. For now, he was uncertain of his next move. Did he tell his boss a stray dog caught hold of him while he was out looking for buyers? Or lie and say he’d twisted his ankle, not that it explained the condition of his jeans.

  He grabbed his gun and pointed at the door when he heard a key slide into the lock. Then came the agreed upon knock and Johnny strode into the room. He gave him a brief nod as he put the gun down close beside him and finished tying his shoelaces. The wintry smile on the older man’s face induced a chill that outweighed the angry throb of his wound.

  “Nine o’clock tonight,” Johnny rasped as Brennan stood. “It will be dark by then.”

  “What about it?”

  “Our contact called. He’s giving you a second chance after you blew last week’s meeting.”

  “I told you. There was a cop hanging around outside the bar. It wasn’t safe.”

  “Yeah. I remember.”

  Brennan didn’t like the way Johnny’s smile widened.

  “So where are we meeting him? Here? The bar?”

  “Nah. He acquired the keys to a place on the main street. We’ll meet there, set a few things up, and then we’ll leave town, just like you wanted.”

  “Don’t know what else to tell you, Johnny. This place doesn’t feel right.”

  “You don’t say.”

  Johnny took a menacing step forward, and Brennan forced himself to stay still.

  “We’ve got a few hours to kill. Order takeaway. Get something fancy. You never know, Cole, this might be your last meal.” He gave a humourless laugh, then walked past Brennan heading for the bathroom. “Gotta inspect the plumbing.”

  Brennan’s breath released in a low hiss before moving toward the menus laying on the small dining table. He took the chair which allowed for an unobstructed view of the front door, and without looking up asked, “So, where’s the meeting?”

  “That dog grooming place on the main street, Transfurmations.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ELLIE SPED INTO THE police station, Charlie at her heels. When she saw Wilson sitting at her desk, she halted. His expression as he stared at whatever he held in his hands was difficult to read. At the sound of Charlie’s claws on the polished floor, he looked up.

  “There you are, Marsden. I was about to call you.”

  “Is there a problem, sir?”

  “That depends.”

  Wilson pinned her with his gaze. Her jaw clenched. “On what, sir?”

  Wilson lifted the folder he was holding and turned it around to face her. “I’ve been reading your report.”

  He rustled the pages she’d printed but couldn’t bring herself to share with her superior officer. Then he selected a page and waved it in her direction.

  “Why do you have a mugshot of Detective Sergeant Brennan Cole?”

  For a moment, Ellie couldn’t meet his gaze, didn’t know what to say. She drew in a deep breath and licked her suddenly dry lips.

  “If he’s a suspect in the Sinclair break-in, why isn’t there any mention of him in your reports? What makes you think he’s here?”

  Her foot shifted as though to take a step backward, but then she stood her ground.

  “Don’t you mean former Detective Sergeant?” she snapped.

  A tight lump forced its way down her throat as he regarded her, his light green eyes appearing to see everything. Her lips compressed, and the chair creaked as he leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

  “Did I ever tell you why I moved to Trinket Bay?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Transferred from the main branch. Before that, I was on a big case. Involved the Feds and A.S.I.O. too. They wanted volunteers to go undercover to help bust an international drug ring with connections to England. At forty-two they considered me too old for the job. The Feds wanted someone young, single, and who looked the part. I understood that. But then it became personal.”

  “Personal, sir?”

  He stared at Brennan’s photo. “You know what it’s like on the job, Marsden. We rarely see the best in people.” His eyes remained fixed on the page. “My daughter, she was amazing. Smart, friendly, beautiful. The spitting image of her mother, but with my stubbornness.”

  Ellie moved closer and the clatter of claws showed Charlie followed right behind her.

  “Sixteen and ready to have fun. Her mother said she could go to this party. She’d worked hard on her grades, and we knew most of the kids who were going. But something felt wrong. I was working late that night. I drove past the house around ten. Saw her dancing with her friends, having a blast.” His voice broke. “Got the call four hours later. My baby girl, my only child—gone. Someone gave her Tramadol mixed with God knows what else. She never had a chance.”

  Nausea hit her belly like a tidal wave. Ellie almost choked, swallowing down the saliva threatening to slip from her mouth. Tears filled her eyes, one spilling onto her cheek. Only once had she been the officer to deliver the devastating news to a family that their son was never coming home. Just seventeen, and trying his first illicit substance. No one could have known the young man would have such a massive reaction to the drug he’d taken. Later, the autopsy report would say the tablets he’d swallowed were cut with laundry detergent and Borax acid. The doctor said he must have been in agony before he died. And it broke Ellie’s heart to know the poor kid passed away alone.

  Ellie choked back another sob, remembering how calm and professional she’d been while delivering the news to the horrified parents. How his little brother and sister burst into tears. She’d sat on the floor of the daughter’s bedroom, one child in her lap and the other in the crook of her arm, offering comfort while reading them stories. Meanwhile, the police chaplain spoke to the parents before offering them a personal escort to the hospital’s morgue. Then she’d come home, wrapped her arms around Brennan, who held her tight and let her cry until she’d no tears left to shed.

  To know her superior had been on the other side of that experience was both surreal and heartbreaking.

  “I’m so sorry, sir.” The emotion swelled, making it difficult to speak. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I... I didn’t know.”

  Ellie looked at Charlie. She’d lain belly down, her head between her front paws, a sorrowful look on her face as though she’d understood every word Wilson said.

  “When my wife finished blaming me for not protecting our little girl, she blamed herself. A week after the funeral, I came home to find her in our bed. In one hand was an empty pill bottle, the other held a note telling me she wanted to be with our daughter.”

  Ellie gasped and took a step toward him, wanting to offer comfort. A door opened somewhere telling them they weren’t alone in the building. Seconds later, Henderson called out, his cheery voice at odds with the melancholy moment.

  “Hi, honey, I’m home.”

  “Don’t call me honey,” they heard McClane reply, his comment sarcastic but jovial.

  They heard both men walk toward the lockers on the other side of the building. Then Wilson swivelled to face her.

  “They ordered me off my daughter’s case—too close to it, they said. But I found him. I f
ound the idiot who gave her that crap. I wanted to...”

  He inhaled, and Ellie’s breath caught too. Even Charlie whimpered.

  “But I let the lead officer know, and his team brought the kid in. Can’t have been more than a year or two older than my precious girl. They showed him photos of his handiwork. After that, he had no problem naming his dealer—one Johnny Navarro, or ‘The Candyman’ as the kid called him. He’d been a Person of Interest for the Feds for some time. When I realised the cases were connected, I knew I had to give the task force the best officer I had.”

  He reached for her hands and held them tight. Charlie moved so her shoulder pressed against her handler’s knee. She snorted, and Ellie fancied the dog was conveying their mutual disbelief.

  “Forgive me, Ellie. If anyone could penetrate Navarro’s group, help find the ringleader and make them pay for taking my wife and daughter from me, it was Brennan Cole. I gave my recommendation and left. I couldn’t stand to stay in the city, to live in that house without my girls, and not work on the case. It wasn’t until much later I discovered how close you two were.”

  He squeezed tighter and in response to her gasp, Charlie uttered a low warning growl. Any illusion of empathy disappeared from the dog’s eyes.

  “When I learned what happened and realised he’d shot you to keep you safe... It was my fault. I should have... When you were ready for duty again, I requested they transfer you here. I suppose I thought I could look out for you.” His dull laugh battled the pain etched in his face. “Thought I could keep my mouth shut too.”

  He released her hands and sat back. Ellie collapsed into another chair and Charlie moved so she was between them, once more protecting her handler. Only Charlie couldn’t protect her from the barrage of emotion whirling around her like a screaming cyclone.

  She dropped one hand on top of Charlie’s head, moving in a comforting motion, though Ellie wasn’t sure if it was for the dog’s benefit or for hers. She covered her mouth with her other hand as though attempting to contain the thoughts so desperate to escape her overwhelmed mind. It was a pointless act.