Fifty Fifty (Detective Harriet Blue #2)(21)

Kash was eyeing me, trying to decide his next move. I didn’t give him time to go on the offensive again. I rushed at him, caught his arm and tried to twist it as we danced in the dirt. He grabbed the back of my neck and shoved me downwards, using my own momentum as I’d used his. I was pinned on my back, the wind knocked out of me. Most people panic when they can’t breathe in a fight. But I knew the air would slowly return. I kicked out and he overbalanced, fell on me. I shoved his jaw upwards.

Snale was watching us from the truck. I locked eyes with her, my neck and shoulders and arms on fire as the incredible weight of Kash’s body came down upon me. She grimaced as Kash leaned on me. It was clear who she was rooting for.

I kicked again, got him in the hip. I twisted and scrambled out from beneath him, got him in my own chokehold, a knee in his spine. He stood and I went with him, absurdly hanging off him like a monkey trying to wrestle a bear. He tried to shake me off, gripping at my arms, but I locked my legs around his waist. And then he did what I hoped he’d do.

Kash sank to his knees and fell backwards, trying to crush me against the ground. I slid sideways before I could hit the dirt, let go of his neck and scooped up his arm. I wrenched it high against his back. He yowled, shocked by the sudden pain, and I shoved the back of his head down so that his cheek hit the red earth beneath us.

‘Yes.’ I stumbled off him, wiping sweat from my eyes. ‘Yes. Yes. Yes!’

The giddy exhilaration of my win lifted the weight of the Last Chance case, of my brother’s case, right off my shoulders in an instant. For a second I felt free. When I fought, I felt strong. I felt that I could take care of myself. I was a warrior.

Kash was dusting sand out of his ear when I came back to myself. Back to the shitty hole in the desert, the middle of nowhere, far from where I needed to be. My smile faltered, as with painful clarity a little voice in my head reminded me that though he was clearly an idiot, a stubborn and ignorant being, this man was supposed to be my partner. We were supposed to be working on this thing together.

I offered my hand to Kash, but he didn’t take it. He gave me a hateful look and walked off towards the car.





Chapter 29


WHITT TURNED THE page of the psychologist’s report before him, the clatter and crash of the prison visitors’ centre pushed back in his mind until it was only a dull hum in his ears.

Beyond the plexiglas, a door opened at the end of the small corridor. Samuel Blue was shuffled to the chair before the detective. Whitt put the psychologist’s report in his briefcase and pulled out his notebook and pen.

‘How you going, Edward?’ Sam gave a tired smile. The two had met in the courtroom briefly the day before, exchanged a phone call.

‘Oh, you know. How are you? That’s the more important question.’

‘I really need that money you were talking about on the phone.’ Sam leaned forwards so that his mouth was centimetres from the speaker holes in the glass. ‘I’m hot property in here, and the only thing that’s going to keep the other cons off my back is protection money. I’ve used up the cash Harry gave me.’

‘Are you still receiving threats?’ Whitt asked.

‘ Daily. Staff and inmates now.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Yeah,’ Sam sniffed. ‘I know the drill – Harry told me. Protection money in prison is a lifetime deal. You pay once, you have to keep paying. But I need to at least keep drip-feeding these guys some cash or I’m not going to survive to see the rest of the hearings.’

‘I’ll move some money into your account this afternoon.’ Whitt made a note.

‘I don’t know how to fight.’ Sam seemed distracted, rubbing his palms together hard. ‘I’m a fucking graphic design expert. I haven’t been in a scrap since I was a kid. Harry’s the fighter.’

‘I spoke to her this morning. She’s desperate to get back here.’

‘She should stay as far away as she can.’ Sam locked eyes with Whitt. ‘I never wanted her here in the first place. Whoever’s doing this to me, they’ll be after her next. Someone’s got to want to see me suffer big-time to put this much effort into a frame-up. I’d suffer pretty badly if anything happened to Harry, right?’

Whitt tapped the side of his page thoughtfully with his pen. He worked through his words before he spoke. Tried to keep them diplomatic. Supportive.

‘So you still think someone is framing you?’

‘It’s the only explanation,’ Sam said. ‘They went into my apartment. They planted those things. Someone abducted those girls when I was in the same area. They must have been following me.’

‘It’s …’ Whitt cringed. ‘It’s a lot of effort to go to. To do this to you.’

‘ You’re telling me, mate.’

‘I mean, you have no idea who it is?’

‘No clue.’

‘How can someone be that angry at you, and you have no idea who they are?’ Whitt asked. ‘Whatever you did to them must have been a supreme betrayal to warrant this. Something really, really bad.’

Sam’s lips twitched. Whitt could see a hidden anger flickering there, pulsing like a heat behind the man’s eyes.

‘You don’t believe me?’

‘I never said that.’