Abby and the Bachelor Cop / Misty and the Single Dad: Abby and the Bachelor Copy / Misty and the Single Dad

This dog.

‘He loves me,’ she told Kleppy, sitting down on the hearth rug and allowing her scruffy dog to settle contentedly on her knee. ‘He’ll take you because he loves me.’

But she’d seen Philip’s ruthless behaviour in court. He could be ruthless. He’d never liked dogs.

Why didn’t he just say no?

‘I’m so lucky he didn’t,’ she whispered and she hugged

Kleppy a bit tighter and then gazed towards the spare room door. Her wedding dress lay behind.

She was lucky?

Of course she was.

She was gone and Raff stayed outside, staring sightlessly into the moonlit night.

Abby Callahan.

Right now there was nothing in the world he wanted but Abby Callahan.

Oh, but there was. Inside, Sarah would be snuggling into bed, surrounded by dogs and cats, dreaming of the day she’d just had—her animals, her honey jumbles. Her big brother.

He loved Sarah.

He also loved this place. He loved this town. But love or not, he’d leave if he could. To stay in this place with so many memories …

To stay in this place and watch Abby married …

But leaving wasn’t an option. He’d stay and he wouldn’t touch her again. Tonight had been an aberration, as stupid as it was potentially harmful. He didn’t want to upset Abby. It wasn’t her fault she was the way she was.

It was his.

He was thirty years old and he felt a hundred.

He hardly needed to see her again before the wedding. His participation in the Baxter trial was almost over. He’d given the prosecutor all the help he could manage, even if it wasn’t enough to convict the guy. There might be another couple of times he was called to the stand, but otherwise he could steer well clear.

So … He’d drop Sarah off at the church next Saturday, pick her up afterwards and it’d be done.

Abby Callahan would be married to Philip Dexter.

Abby spent until midnight making Kleppy hers. She bathed him and blowed him dry with her hairdryer. He was never going to be a beautiful dog, but he was incredibly cute—in a shambolic kind of way. He was a very individual dog, she decided.

He tolerated the hairdryer.

He ate a decent dinner, despite his pre-dinner snack of honey jumbles.

He investigated her bedroom as she got ready for bed. And, curiously, he fell in love with her jewellery box.

It was a beautiful cedar box with inlaid Huon pine. Philip’s grandfather had made it for her when she and Philip had announced their engagement. She loved its craftsmanship and she also loved the wood’s faint and beautiful perfume, stronger whenever she opened it.

She also loved Philip’s grandpa, she thought, as she removed Kleppy’s paw from where it had been resting proprietorially on the box. His woodwork was his passion. He’d made these beautiful boxes for half the town. ‘It’ll last for hundreds of years after I’m gone, girl,’ he’d told her and she suspected it would.

Philip’s grandpa was part of this town. Philip’s family. Her future.

More people’s happiness than hers was tied up in next week’s wedding. That should make her feel happy, but right now it was making her feel claustrophobic. Which was dumb.

‘Do you like the box or the jewels?’ she asked Kleppy, deliberately shifting her thoughts. She opened the lid so he could see he couldn’t make millions with a jewel heist.

Kleppy nosed the trinkets with disinterest, but looked longingly at the box. He sniffed it again and she thought it was its faint scent he liked.

‘No!’ she said and put it further back on the chest.

Kleppy sighed and went back to his bra. The bra she’d paid for and given to him. Yes, he shouldn’t benefit from crime but today was an exception.

He made a great little thief.

He slept on her bed, snuggled against her, and she loved it. He snored. She loved his snore. She didn’t even mind that he slept with his bra tucked firmly under his left front paw.

‘Whatever makes you happy, Klep,’ she told him, ‘but that’s the last of your loot. You belong to a law-abiding citizen now.’

One who needs to stay right away from the law.

From Raff.

Don’t think of Raff. Think of the wedding.

Some hope. She slept, thinking of Raff.

She woke feeling light and happy. For the past few weeks she’d woken with the mammoth feeling that her wedding was bursting in on her from all sides. Her mother was determined to make it perfect.

It was starting to overwhelm her.

But not this morning. She loved that Kleppy woke at dawn and stuck his nose in her face and she woke to dog breath and a tail wagging.

It was lucky Philip wasn’t here. He’d have forty fits.

He wouldn’t mind being here. Or rather … he’d be happy if she was there. As far as Philip was concerned, she was wasting money having her own little house when he already had a wonderful house overlooking the sea.

Her parents had said that, too. When she’d moved back to Banksia Bay after university they’d welcomed her home and even had her bedroom repainted. Pink.

She had a choice. Philip’s house or her old bedroom.

But her grandparents had left her a lovely legacy and this little house was her statement of independence. As she let Kleppy outside to inspect her tiny garden she thought how much she was going to miss it.

Philip’s house was fabulous. She’d been blown away that he could afford to build it, and it had everything a woman could possibly want.

So get over it.

She left Kleppy to his own devices and went and checked on her wedding dress—just to reassure herself she really was getting married.

She should be excited.

She was excited. It was a gorgeous dress. It was exquisite.

It had taken her two years to make.

The pleasure was in making it. Not in wearing it.

This was dumb. She felt a cold spot on her leg and there was Kleppy, wagging his tail, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Looking hopefully at the front door.

Looking for adventure?

‘I’ll take you round the block before I go to work,’ she told him. ‘And I’ll come home at lunch time. I’m sorry, Klep, but you might be bored this morning. I can’t help it, though. It’s the price you’ve paid for me bailing you out of death row.

‘And I’m going to be in court this morning, too,’ she told him as he looked doleful. ‘You’re a lawyer’s dog and I’m a lawyer. I’m a lawyer with a gorgeous, hand-beaded wedding dress and you’re a lawyer’s dog with a new home. We need to be grateful for what we have. I’m sure we are.’

She was grateful. It was just, as she left for work and Kleppy looked disconsolately after her, she knew how Kleppy felt.

Raff wasn’t in court.

Of course he wasn’t. He didn’t need to be. He was a cop, not a prosecutor, and he had work to do elsewhere. He’d given his evidence yesterday. Philip wouldn’t call him back but she’d sort of hoped the Crown Prosecutor would.

There were things the Crown Prosecutor could ask …

It wasn’t for her to know that or even think that—she was lawyer for the defence—and it also wasn’t for her to have her heart twist because Raff wasn’t here.

She slid into the chair beside Philip and he smiled and kissed her and then said, ‘Second thoughts about the dog? He really is unsuitable.’

This was what would happen, she thought. He’d agree and then slowly work on her to come round to his way of thinking.

He wasn’t all noble.

‘No, and I won’t be having any,’ she said.

‘Where is he now?’

‘Safely in my garden.’ Four-foot fence. Safe as houses.

‘He’ll make a mess.’

‘I walked him before I left. Walking’s good. I’m going to do it every morning from now on. Maybe you can join us.’

‘Gym’s far better aerobic exercise,’ he said. ‘You need a fully planned programme to get full cardiac advantage. Walking’s …’

She was no longer listening.

Her morning had begun.

It was very, very boring.

The hands on the clock moved at a snail’s pace.

How bored would Kleppy be?

How bored was she?

Malcolm, the Crown Prosecutor, should do something about his voice, she thought. It was a voice designed to put a girl to sleep.

Ooh, Wallace looked smug.

Ooh, she was bored …

Lunch time. All rise. Hooray.

And then the door of the court swung open.

All eyes turned. As they would. Every person in the room, with the possible exception of Wallace and Philip, was probably as bored as she was.

And suddenly she wasn’t bored at all. For standing in the doorway was … Raff.

Full cop uniform. Grim expression. Gun at his side, cop ready for action. At his side—only lower—was a white fluff ball attached to a pink diamanté lead. And in his arms he was carrying Kleppy.

‘I’m sorry, Your Honour,’ he said, addressing the judge. ‘But I’m engaged in a criminal investigation. Is Abigail Callahan in court?’

Of course she was. Abby rose, her colour starting to rise as well. ‘K … Kleppy,’ she stammered.

‘Could you come with me, please, Miss Callahan?’ Raff said.

‘She’s not going anywhere,’ Philip snapped, rising and putting his hand on Abby’s shoulder. ‘What the …’

‘If she won’t come willingly, I’m afraid I need to arrest her,’ Raff said. ‘Accessory after the fact.’ He looked down at his feet, to where the white fluff ball pranced on the end of her pink diamanté lead. A lead that led up to Kleppy’s jaw. Kleppy had a very tight hold. ‘Abigail Callahan, your dog has stolen Mrs Fryer’s peke. You need to come now and sort this out or I’ll have to arrest you for theft.’

The courtroom was quiet. So quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

Justice Weatherby’s face was impassive. Almost impassive.

There was a tiny tic at the side of his mouth.

Raff’s face was impassive, too. He stood with Kleppy in his arms, waiting for Abby to respond.

Kleppy looked disgusting. He was coated in thick black dust. His tail was wagging, nineteen to the dozen.

In his mouth he held the end of the pink lead and his jaw was clamped as if he wasn’t going to let go any time soon.

On the other end of the lead, the white fluff ball was wagging her tail as well.

‘He was locked in my backyard,’ Abby said, eyeing the two with dismay.

‘My sharp investigative skills inform me that the dog can dig,’ Raff said, shaking Kleppy a little so a rain of dirt fell onto the polished wood of the courtroom door. ‘Will you come with me, please, ma’am?’

‘Just give the dog back to whoever owns it,’ Philip snapped, his hand gripping Abby’s shoulder tightly now. ‘Tie the other one up outside. Abigail’s busy.’

‘Raff, please …’ Abby said.

‘Mrs Fryer’s hopping mad,’ Raff said, unbending a little. ‘I’ve waited until court broke for lunch but I’m waiting no longer. You want to avoid charges, you come and placate her.’

She glanced at Philip. Uh-oh. She glanced at Justice Weatherby. The tic at the corner of his mouth had turned into a grin. Someone was giggling at the back of the court.

Philip’s face looked like thunder.

‘Sort the dog, Abigail,’ he snapped, gathering his notes. ‘Just get it out of here and stop it interfering with our lives.’

‘Right this way, ma’am,’ Raff said amiably. ‘The solicitor for the defence will be right back, just as soon as she sorts her stolen property.’

Abby walked out behind Raff, trying to look professional, but she didn’t feel professional and when she reached the outside steps and the autumn sun hit her face she felt suddenly a wee bit hysterical. And also … a wee bit free?

As if Raff had sprung her from jail.

Which was a dumb thing to think. Raff had attempted to make her a laughing stock.

‘I suppose you think you’re funny,’ she said and Raff turned and looked at her, and once again she was hit by that wave of pure testosterone. He was in his cop uniform and my, it was sexy. The sun was glinting on his tanned face and his coppery hair. He was wearing short sleeves and his arms … They were twice as thick as Philip’s, she thought, and then she thought that was a very inappropriate thing to think. As was the fact that his eyes held the most fabulous twinkle.

Her knees felt wobbly.

What was she doing? She was standing in the sun and lusting after Raff Finn. The man who’d destroyed her life …

She needed to get a grip, and fast.

‘You’re saying Kleppy dug all the way out of my garden?’ she snapped, trying to sound disbelieving. She was disbelieving.

‘You’re implying I might have helped?’ Raff said, still with that twinkle. ‘You think I might have hiked round there and loaned him a spade?’

‘No, I …’ Of course not. ‘But the fence sits hard on the ground. He’d have had to go deep.’

‘He’s a very determined dog. I did warn you, Abigail.’

‘Why don’t you just call me ma’am and be done with it,’ she snapped. ‘What am I supposed to do now?’

‘Apologise.’

‘To you?’

He grinned at that and his whole face lit up. She’d hardly seen that grin. Not since … Not since …

No. Avoid that grin at all costs.

‘I can’t imagine you apologising to me,’ he said. ‘But you might try Mrs Fryer. I imagine she’s apoplectic by now. She rang an hour ago to say her dog had been stolen from outside the draper’s. I did think we were looking at dog-napping—she’d definitely pay a ransom—but we have witnesses saying the napper was seen making a getaway. It seems Kleppy decided to go find another bra and found something better.’

She closed her eyes. This was not good, on so many levels.

‘You caught him?’

‘I didn’t have to catch him,’ he said, and his smile deepened, a slow, smouldering smile that had the power to heat as much as the sun. ‘I found the two of them on your front step.’

‘On my …’

‘He seems to think of your place as home already. Home of Abby. Home of Kleppy. Or maybe he was just bringing this magnificent gift to you.’

Oh, Kleppy.

She stared at her scruffy, kleptomaniac, mud-covered dog in Raff’s arms. He stared back, gazing straight at her, quivering with hope. With happiness. A dog fulfilled.

Why did her eyes suddenly fill?

‘Why … why didn’t you just take Fluffy back to Mrs Fryer?’ she managed, trying not to sniff. She had a dog.

‘Watch this.’ He set Kleppy down and tugged the diamanté lead, trying to dislodge it from Kleppy’s teeth.

Kleppy held on as if his life depended on it.

Raff tugged again.

Kleppy growled and gripped and glanced across at Abby—and his appeal was unmistakable. Come and help. This guy’s trying to steal your property.

Her property.

Raff released him. The little dog turned towards her, his whole body quivering in delight. She stooped and held out her hand and he dropped the lead into it.

Oh, my …

She was having trouble making herself speak. She was having trouble making herself think. This disreputable mutt had laid claim to her.

She should be horrified.

She loved it.

‘You could have just taken Fluffy off the other end of the lead,’ she managed.

‘Hey, your dog growled at me,’ Raff said. ‘You heard him. He could have taken my hand off.’

‘He was wagging his tail at the same time.’

‘I’m not one to take chances,’ Raff said. ‘I might be armed but I’m not a fast draw. Too big a risk.’

She looked up at him, big and brawny and absurdly incongruous. Cop with gun. He’d shoot to kill?

‘You don’t have capsicum spray?’ she managed.

‘Lady, you think this vicious mutt could be subdued by capsicum spray?’

She ran her fingers down the vicious mutt’s spine. He arched and preened and waggled his tail in pleasure.

The fluff ball moved in for a back scratch as well.

She giggled.

‘Abigail …’ It was Philip, striding down the steps, looking furious.

Philip. Dignity. She scrambled to her feet and the dogs looked devastated at losing her.

‘I’m just settling the dogs down,’ she managed. ‘Before Raff takes them away.’

‘Before we take them away,’ Raff said. He motioned to his patrol car.

‘You can cope with this yourself, Finn,’ Philip snapped.

‘No,’ Raff said, humour fading. He lifted Kleppy in one arm and Fluff Ball in the other. ‘You cope with getting Wallace off,’ he told Philip. ‘Abigail copes with the dogs.’

‘I need …’

‘You’re getting as little help as I can manage to get that low life off the hook,’ Raff snapped. ‘Abigail, come with me.’

She went. Raff was not giving her a choice, and she knew Mrs Fryer would be furious.

Behind her, Philip was furious but right now that seemed the lesser of two evils.

She sat in the front of Raff’s patrol car with two dogs on her knee and she tried to stare straight ahead; to think serious thoughts. She still wanted to giggle.

‘Kleppy should be in the back,’ Raff said gravely. ‘A known criminal.’

‘You’ve accused me of being an accessory. Why don’t you toss me in the back as well?’

‘I like you up front,’ he said. ‘You do my image good.’

‘I need dark glasses,’ she said, glowering. ‘Carted round town in a police car.’

‘You will keep a kleptomaniac dog. It might well push you over to the dark side. Spoil that good-girl reputation. Send you into the shadowy side, like me.’

Her bubble of laughter faded at that. He’d spoken lightly, but there was truth behind his words.

The shadowy side …

Raff’s grandfather and then his mother had given the family a bad name. A drunk and then a woman who’d broken society’s rules … If Raff’s mother had had the strength to defend herself, to ride out community criticism, then maybe it would have been different but she’d been an easy target. The family had been an easy target.

Raff, though … He had defended himself. He’d come back here after the accident, he’d made a home for Sarah, he’d looked on community disdain with indifference.

Did it hurt?

It wasn’t anything to do with her, she thought, but, as they pulled up outside Louise Fryer’s, she watched the middle-aged matron greet Raff with only the barest degree of civility. It must still hurt.

After the accident … There’d been no trial.

She remembered the investigators talking to her parents. There’d been insufficient evidence to charge him.

‘Is Raff denying it?’ That had been Abby, whispering from the background. She barely remembered those appalling days after the crash but she did remember that. She did remember asking. ‘What does Raff say?’

‘He can’t remember a thing,’ the investigator told her. ‘His blood alcohol’s come back zero and frankly that’s a surprise. He was just a stupid kid doing stupid things.’

‘Our Ben wasn’t stupid,’ her mother said hotly.

‘Led astray, more like,’ the investigator said and the fair part of Abby, the reasonable part, thought no, Ben hadn’t been wearing his seat belt. It wasn’t all Raff’s fault.

He’d been stupid. He had been on the wrong side of the dirt road and he’d been speeding.

He’d killed Ben and injured his sister.

Maybe that was enough punishment for anyone. The authorities seemed to think so. Even though her parents wanted him thrown in jail, it had simply been left as an accident.

Raff had come back as the town cop, he’d cared for his sister and he’d worked hard to rid himself of that bad boy reputation. For the most part he now had community respect, but there were those—her parents’ friends … people with long memories … He was still condemned.

Louise Fryer, coming out now with her mouth pursed into a look of dislike, was one of the more vocal of the condemners.

‘Haven’t you found her yet?’ Her voice was an accusation. ‘I’ve had five phone calls. People have seen her. Don’t you know how valuable she is?’

Abby was trying to untangle leads to get out of the car.

‘You don’t care,’ Mrs Fryer said. ‘We need a decent police presence in this … Oh …’

For, finally, Abby was out. She set Fluff Ball on the ground. Fluff Ball headed over to Mrs Fryer.

But … Uh-oh. Kleppy was out of the car and after his prize. He grabbed the lead and Fluff Ball stopped in her tracks.

Fluff Ball looked at Mrs Fryer, then looked at Kleppy. She wagged her pompom and proceeded to check out Kleppy’s rear.

‘She’ll catch something … Get it away …’ Louise was practically screeching.

Abby sighed. She picked up both dogs and tucked them firmly under her arms. ‘Thank you, Kleppy, but no,’ she said severely. She took the lead from Kleppy and handed over Fluff Ball.

And finally Mrs Fryer realised who she was. ‘Abigail!’

‘Hi, Mrs Fryer.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘My dog stole your dog.’

‘Your dog?’ Louise’s eyes were almost popping out of her head. ‘That’s never your dog.’

‘He is. His name’s Kleppy. He’s lovely but I’ve only had him for a day so he’s not exactly well trained. But he will be.’ Just as soon as she installed fences down to bedrock.

‘Has this man foisted him onto you?’ Her glare at Raff was poisonous.

‘No.’ Not exactly. Or actually … yes. But that was what the woman was expecting her to say, she thought. Raff Finn—town’s bad boy. One of those Finns.

Capable of anything.

Which was what she thought, too, she reminded herself, so why was she standing here figuring out how to defend him?

‘He didn’t foist …’ she started.

‘Yes, I did,’ Raff said before she could get any further. ‘Have you forgotten already? I definitely foisted. And that’s exactly what you’d expect of someone like me, isn’t it, Mrs Fryer? And here I am, messing up your front garden. But it’s okay. Your dog’s been restored. Justice has been done so I can step out of your life again. If you’ll excuse me … Abby, when Mrs Fryer’s given you a nice cup of tea so you can both recover from your

Very Nasty Experience, could you walk back to court yourself, do you think?’

I …’ She stared at him, speechless. He gave her his very blandest smile.

‘I bet Louise wants to hear all about the wedding preparations. She’ll be invited, though, won’t she?’

‘Yes,’ Louise said, a bit confused but mostly belligerent. Her dislike for Raff was unmistakable. ‘Of course I am. I’m a friend of dear Philip’s mother.’

‘There you are; you’re practically family.’ Raff’s gaze met hers and there was laughter behind his eyes—pure trouble. ‘All it takes for you to be friends for life is for your two dogs to bond, which they’re doing already. Me, I have other stuff to do. Murderers and rapists to chase.’

‘Or the police station lawn to mow,’ Abby snapped and then wished she hadn’t.

‘I was just saying that to Philip’s mother the other night,’ Louise said. ‘Old Sergeant Troy used to keep the Station really nice.’

‘Yeah, but he wasn’t a Finn,’ Raff said. ‘The place has gone to hell in a handbasket since I arrived. Did you think of the lawn yourself, Abigail, or did Philip mention it? A tidy man, our Philip. But enough. Murderers, rapists—and lawn!’ He sighed. ‘A policeman’s lot is indeed a tough one. See you ladies later. Have a nice cup of tea.’

He turned and walked away. Louise put her hand on Abby’s arm, holding her back.

The toad. Raff Finn knew she wouldn’t be able to get away from here for an hour.

‘Make sure you plant some petunias when you’re finished,’ Abby called after him. ‘It’d be a pity if we saw our police force bored.’

‘Petunias it is,’ he said and gave her an airy wave. ‘Consider them planted. In between thefts. How long till the next snatch and grab?’ He shook his head. ‘Keep off the streets, Abigail, and keep a tight hold on that felon of yours. Next time, I might have to put you up for a community corrections order. The pair of you might find yourself planting my petunias for me.’

CHAPTER SIX

ABBY didn’t go back to court. Philip phoned to find out where she was and she decided she had a headache. She did have a headache. Her headache was wagging his tail and watching as she dog-proofed her fence.