want to do some digging on this?â
Sammi nodded. âYeah, Iâll see what I can find out.â
15
Although they were only metres apart in adjoining armchairs, they might as well have been at other ends of the house.
Gavin sat sideways in the armchair, so his legs dangled over the armrest. His feet were pointing in Sammiâs direction. The TV was on but Sammi had taken charge of the remote control tonight. Not interested in another cooking show, Gavin had the laptop in front of him and was surfing the internet. He glanced up at Sammi. She was engrossed in her show. The screen of the laptop was facing away from her. He hesitated then googled the police recruiting site.
The boys at the station had been confident he wouldnât hit any hurdles through the application process. Physical fitness tests, easy. Medical assessment, no problems. He had more police referees than you could poke a stick at. Psychological assessment should be okay. If some of the police he knew had made it through, he shouldnât have any problem.
He was keen as mustard. It was a job he would really be able to sink his teeth into. He had gone stale in his current job. Heâd been a mechanic for thirteen years. It was a dirty, sweaty job that involved squeezing into tight spaces, burning yourself on hot engines and constantly grazing your knuckles battling seized-up bolts. It had been a good trade. But it had run its course now, it was time to move on. Joining the coppers was a great plan. Good money, job security. But he was completely taken aback by Sammiâs reaction, so much so that he was hesitant to mention it again. She had liked it when he had supported her, been her shoulder to lean on through the hard months after her abduction. Or at least thatâs what he had thought. And now sheâd gone cold, didnât even want him in the same job as her.
Possible reasons why tumbled through his head. She didnât want to spend more time with him. She was having an affair at work. She thought he was too dumb to be a cop. Part of him knew none of these were true. But because he didnât know exactly why she was opposing his career change, his mind filled in the blanks with wild speculation.
He clicked though the screens on the website to the one he was looking for. He filled in his address details. A message popped up that a recruit application package would be sent out to him.
Why was Sammi being so selfish? This wasnât about her.
16
It was Mel who noticed the package when she unlocked the front door of the station at 8 a.m.
âHey Bob, Sammi, come have a look.â
Bob took one look at the package outside the front door and turned around.
âWait while I get some gloves,â he said, returning quickly and pulling the blue latex over his hands. It was a plain brown envelope with âAttention Policeâ printed in neat capitals across the front. The out-of-shape skull and crossbones seemed at odds with the neat writing.
âWhat do you reckon, Bob?â Sammi asked. The note from the other day was fresh in her mind, but mystery packages left at the front of a police station always had to be treated seriously. Operational procedures recommended calling in the bomb squad when in doubt. But that was impractical in a town like Angelâs Crossing. And Bob was a practical man.
âItâs fairly small and soft. Unlikely to be a bomb. And this is Angelâs Crossing, not Canberra.â He grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped through the tape at one end of the package. Carefully, he unfolded the edge and cautiously opened it up. He peered in, saying nothing. He gave the package a small shake, and poked a finger in. He snipped another piece of tape and shook the contents of the package onto the counter. Rope. White rope. Bob smoothed it flat with latex fingers. The rope was tied into a noose. A proper string-âem-up hangmanâs noose. A piece of A4 printer paper accompanied
Sammi nodded. âYeah, Iâll see what I can find out.â
15
Although they were only metres apart in adjoining armchairs, they might as well have been at other ends of the house.
Gavin sat sideways in the armchair, so his legs dangled over the armrest. His feet were pointing in Sammiâs direction. The TV was on but Sammi had taken charge of the remote control tonight. Not interested in another cooking show, Gavin had the laptop in front of him and was surfing the internet. He glanced up at Sammi. She was engrossed in her show. The screen of the laptop was facing away from her. He hesitated then googled the police recruiting site.
The boys at the station had been confident he wouldnât hit any hurdles through the application process. Physical fitness tests, easy. Medical assessment, no problems. He had more police referees than you could poke a stick at. Psychological assessment should be okay. If some of the police he knew had made it through, he shouldnât have any problem.
He was keen as mustard. It was a job he would really be able to sink his teeth into. He had gone stale in his current job. Heâd been a mechanic for thirteen years. It was a dirty, sweaty job that involved squeezing into tight spaces, burning yourself on hot engines and constantly grazing your knuckles battling seized-up bolts. It had been a good trade. But it had run its course now, it was time to move on. Joining the coppers was a great plan. Good money, job security. But he was completely taken aback by Sammiâs reaction, so much so that he was hesitant to mention it again. She had liked it when he had supported her, been her shoulder to lean on through the hard months after her abduction. Or at least thatâs what he had thought. And now sheâd gone cold, didnât even want him in the same job as her.
Possible reasons why tumbled through his head. She didnât want to spend more time with him. She was having an affair at work. She thought he was too dumb to be a cop. Part of him knew none of these were true. But because he didnât know exactly why she was opposing his career change, his mind filled in the blanks with wild speculation.
He clicked though the screens on the website to the one he was looking for. He filled in his address details. A message popped up that a recruit application package would be sent out to him.
Why was Sammi being so selfish? This wasnât about her.
16
It was Mel who noticed the package when she unlocked the front door of the station at 8 a.m.
âHey Bob, Sammi, come have a look.â
Bob took one look at the package outside the front door and turned around.
âWait while I get some gloves,â he said, returning quickly and pulling the blue latex over his hands. It was a plain brown envelope with âAttention Policeâ printed in neat capitals across the front. The out-of-shape skull and crossbones seemed at odds with the neat writing.
âWhat do you reckon, Bob?â Sammi asked. The note from the other day was fresh in her mind, but mystery packages left at the front of a police station always had to be treated seriously. Operational procedures recommended calling in the bomb squad when in doubt. But that was impractical in a town like Angelâs Crossing. And Bob was a practical man.
âItâs fairly small and soft. Unlikely to be a bomb. And this is Angelâs Crossing, not Canberra.â He grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped through the tape at one end of the package. Carefully, he unfolded the edge and cautiously opened it up. He peered in, saying nothing. He gave the package a small shake, and poked a finger in. He snipped another piece of tape and shook the contents of the package onto the counter. Rope. White rope. Bob smoothed it flat with latex fingers. The rope was tied into a noose. A proper string-âem-up hangmanâs noose. A piece of A4 printer paper accompanied
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