Chapter 2
1214 Words
2
Glistening soapy-white bubbles generated by a softly humming motor and multiplying quickly, rose and spilled over the rim of the spa bath. Sarah Collins laid her head against Sam Rose’s shoulder, nestled in closer to him, and murmured softly, “Mmm… this is nice.”
Sam pulled her closer to him and kissed the top of her head.
Sarah reached to the edge of the spa, where two glasses of wine sat amidst the bubbles flowing gently over the side. She passed Sam his glass, raised her own and lightly touched it against Sam’s. “This is such a lovely way to end what has been a wonderful day,” Sarah smiled. “What is it about a bubble bath that’s so nice?”
Sam shrugged. “You can fart and no one knows?”
Sarah laughed. She turned her head and looked up at him. “You didn’t… did you?”
“No, I didn’t, but the look on your face right now is priceless,” Sam said.
“That’s what I love about you, Sergeant Rose. You are such a romantic.”
“It’s a gift,” Sam smiled. He sipped his wine and kissed her.
“Where are you taking me for dinner?”
“Dinner?” Sam exclaimed. “We’ve had the best s*x either of us has had in a month, I buy you an incredibly expensive bottle of wine, run you a lovely spa bath… and you want dinner, too?” He looked suitably miffed.
“Firstly,” Sarah began, “the s*x was the best we’ve had in a month because it’s been that long since I was last in Alice Springs. Secondly, the price sticker is still on the wine bottle, and twenty dollars does not constitute incredible expense. Lastly, we had s*x again when you climbed in the spa with me.”
“And your point is?”
“My point is that I want dinner, too,” Sarah kissed him again.
“You have expensive tastes. Do I have to mortgage my house?”
“This is not your house, as I recall. It’s supplied by the department.”
“It’s my spa bath,” Sam said pointedly.
Sarah shrugged. “So you can mortgage your spa bath. Or rob a bank. Either way, I expect something a little classier than McDonalds.”
“Oh, alright then,” Sam frowned. “But, just so you know, Maccas has some really good stuff.”
“Then you can go to Maccas three times a day when I go back to Yulara. You can clog up your arteries, get all fat and puffy, drop dead before you’re fifty, and they can take your bloated, diseased body out of here on a fork-lift. But tonight, while you are still reasonably fit, healthy and mildly attractive, you can take me somewhere nice.” Sarah stood to climb out of the spa.
“You think I’m attractive?” Sam asked.
Sarah leaned back and looked at him studiously. “Hmm… mildly… like in a leading-man-in-a-horror-movie kind of way.”
Sam grabbed her by the leg. “Well, at least you have me as the leading man. No small bit parts for this boy. Why don’t you get back in here and I’ll show you my best part?”
Sarah smiled down at him. “You’ve shown me that twice today already.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Impressive?”
“Amazing. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.” Sarah lowered herself back into the spa bath. “You should send a photo to Ripley’s Believe It or Not.”
Sam’s phone rang shrilly. “Can you get that, Sarah?” he called from the bedroom where he was dressing for dinner.
Sarah grabbed his phone from the kitchen table and flipped it open. “Hello.”
“Sarah? Hi, Russell Foley here.”
“Hi, Russell, how are you?”
“I’m fine, Sarah. I didn’t realise you were in town,” Foley said. “I was looking for Sam.”
“He’s in the other room, dressing for dinner,” Sarah explained. “I’ve got a week off, and I thought I better come to the big smoke and catch up on his housework.”
Foley laughed. “I’m so glad you did. He’s been unbearable to work with without you to straighten his tie for him.”
“Do you want to hold, or will I get him to call you back?” Sarah asked.
Foley paused. “Unfortunately, this is not a social call. I’m afraid you’re going to have to put your dinner plans on hold.”
“Sounds serious,” Sarah said.
“Yeah, it is,” Foley said.
“I’ll tell him to go straight in,” Sarah promised.
“Sorry about dinner,” Foley apologised.
“Forget about it,” Sarah said. “I’ve been on the job long enough to know how it works.”
“Thank you,” Foley responded. “Oh, I just had a thought… “
“Yes?”
“We’re short on man-power with the Finke Desert Race this weekend. I know you’re here on a break, but how do you feel about going on the clock?”
“You want me to come in with Sam?”
“Only if you want to,” Foley said. “We could use all the help we can get.”
“Okay,” Sarah agreed. “Gotta be better than eating alone and waiting for Sam to get home.”
“Great,” Foley said. “Commonwealth Bank, Yeperenye Shopping Centre, ASAP.”
“A robbery?” Sarah speculated.
“Yeah… and more. I’ll see you both soon.”
“We’re on our way,” Sarah said.
Sam Rose never considered himself to be a particularly handsome individual. He knew, however, that such an opinion was at odds with those who considered his looks to be well above average. He also knew that those who took such a view were, in the main — at least he hoped they were in the main — members of the opposite s*x. The topic embarrassed Sam, and many times in his life, he wished people didn’t judge him by his looks.
Sam vehemently believed he had much more to offer than his physical appearance. While his record as a police officer substantiated that belief, it was a source of concern to him that there were those who found it difficult to look beyond the facade. It was not something Sam stressed over; it was much more a case of mild irritation than it was the catalyst for sleepless nights. He had been on the job for more years than he was ever out of it, over twenty, in fact, and he had long ago become inured to the insecurities of others.
He ran a comb through his hair one last time and stepped away from the mirror.
“That was Russell,” Sarah announced as Sam entered the lounge room.
Sam stopped and looked at Sarah. “Wow! You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” Sarah smiled. “That was Russell,” she repeated.
“I heard you,” Sam said. “Okay, are you ready… let’s go to dinner.”
“We’re not going to dinner,” Sarah announced.
Sam’s shoulders slumped visibly, and he adopted a grossly exaggerated, forlorn look. “He hates me,” he moaned.
“No, he doesn’t hate you,” Sarah smiled.
“What’s the job?” Sam asked.
“Bank robbery.”
“Where?”
“The Commonwealth Bank, in the Yeperenye Centre.”
“Bloody hell!” Sam cursed. “All my money’s in that bank.”
“Don’t worry, the bank will be insured, you’ll get your money back,” Sarah offered encouragement.
Sam shrugged indifferently. “Doesn’t matter. The bastards will never get rich on what I had in there.”
Sarah crossed to Sam, wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “There is some good news,” she announced.
“We’ve got time for another spa before I go?” Sam suggested hopefully.
“No, no spa,” Sarah said. “But I’m coming with you.”
“You are?”
“Yes, Russell wants me on the team.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Most of the troops are deployed to the Finke Desert Race. I’m on the clock.”
“In that case, I feel better about going to work. It will be nice working together again.” Sam leaned down and kissed her. “Are you sure there’s not enough time… “
Sarah pushed away from him playfully. “No, there’s not. Let’s go.”
- Writer
