Someone had been late night snacking.
“I can just write it up for you.” Wouldn’t be the first time he’d been in Severton’s Police Station in the early hours of Saturday morning doing a witness statement. He was pretty sure he’d done at least three at this time for his sister.
“Perfect.” Bob rattled through some of the stuff he had to say in case this was Jake’s first rodeo, which they both knew it wasn’t, but Bob was a decent cop, usually based at Underwood and helping out here while Alex took leave. “Want a coffee?”
Jake did not want a coffee. It would taste like someone had pissed in the cup first and not washed it out, so he was happy to leave that, thank you very much.
He sat down at the table with the pad Bob gave him and a biro, Bob keeping an eye on him so no one could claim interference in his statement. It was straightforward enough; he’d gone to check on Lainey’s outbuilding, as he did most nights when he did his own. It was a neighbourly thing to do. He’d had an odd feeling, gut instinct, so he’d gone into the cottage, which had been unlocked, and found Dylan embroiled in a fight with some bloke he’d not seen before.
Jake had stepped in, especially when he’d realised that the bloke was going to be lifting some of the equipment that had arrived today as part of the repayment deal he’d struck with Dylan. From what Jake had picked up, Dylan had arranged for a van to come by a couple of hours later to lift the washer, dryer, stove and fridge/freezer, then he’d claim it’d been stolen overnight. Which essentially it would have been.
By him.
So Jake had managed to knock someone out cold, which his wrist was now paying for, and then had added to Dylan’s war wounds, fully pissed off that he was stealing from Jake’s girlfriend. Or whatever she wanted to be known as.
Neighbour.
He shook his head. He was pissed off with her too. It’d had been years since he’d met anyone he could see a future with, and for whatever God-given reason, Lainey Green was someone he could see himself sharing a life with, even though she was stubborn and feisty, and definitely knew her own mind.
But then, maybe that was why he could see himself sharing a life with her. After everything, she’d remembered about the mare too, who was now just fine thanks to Scott and his dad, who he’d called on the way to the station.
“You okay, Jake, son?” Bob popped his head back round, holding a coffee. “Finished that?”
Jake nodded. “All done. Need me to talk through it?”
Bob shook his head. “Dylan Granger’s just sung like a canary on speed at Mardi Gras, so we probably won’t even need it. He says he picked up a knock from you while you were defending him.”
Jake laughed. “That’s an interesting interpretation.”
Bob shrugged, rubbed his balding head. “Want a lift back home? I imagine you’re wanting to check up on your neighbour. Make sure she’s okay.”
Jake didn’t particularly want to answer that, mainly because he had no idea if he wanted to check on Lainey or not.
No, he did.
He wouldn’t be able to sleep if she wasn’t okay.
“A lift would be great. Thanks, Bob.”
“I’ll get it sorted.”
Fifteen minuteslater and he was home and in his shower, knowing he needed to get the feeling of the grime from the fight off him. He had a few additional bruises, as well as the shiner that was going to look stunning at the auction tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Fuck.
He dried off and pulled on sweats and a T-shirt, yanking on his beat-up trainers before he left the house. Dialling Lainey, he stood below her bedroom window, waiting for her to appear, a little like a Severton version of Juliet.
She answered too quickly, probably because she couldn’t sleep, and she was going through her social media.
“Open your window. I’m coming up.”
“I can open the door. Save your knees from any more scrapes.”
“What about your sister?”
She’d pulled the curtains open and was looking at him, her bedside lamp obviously on. “She knows about us. I told her.”
