Contrary to popular belief, Bill Hobart was no fool. He had known for some time now that there was something wrong. When his boss, Matthew Lawson came to work one sunny morning, practically thrumming with angry tension, Bill thought it was just one of those days. Days when a certain police surgeon might've overstepped his boundaries.
As the day passed though, without the typical swearing under his breath or even mentioning Blake's name, Bill started to suspect that it wasn't the dear doctor who caused trouble this time. Such pity.
While Bill had gotten used to the man in the last few years, occasionally even feeling a hint of respect (though he would never admit it loudly, God save his reputation), he did enjoy the moments when Blake managed to piss off Lawson. The showdowns were usually quite fun to watch... if one managed to get out of the way in time and escape Lawson's wrath afterwards.
This was different.
Bill caught Lawson calling the house twice during the day, his voice hushed and replies short. There was a look of concern on his face which seemed out of place. When Bill asked if everything was alright, Lawson shot him a glare and a nod and sent him away.
Bill stopped asking.
He kept watch however.
He noted Lawson locking himself up in the office that had been previously used by Munro and knew it was so he could make some private calls without being overheard. If Bill had wanted to, he could have leaned against the door and listened, but he wasn't as concerned yet. This might've been a personal matter and he was sure that if things were dire, Lawson would sooner or later tell him. If not, well. Bill wasn't stupid and he could put things together.
A day had passed, then two. Lawson had calmed down some, but there were still secret calls and worried looks. He was occasionally snappish and Bill was starting to wish that Davis would stop frolicking around in Sydney and return home, so that he could take the brunt of the annoyance. Somehow, Davis always managed to get Lawson's attention to himself, occasionally even calm the man's ire.
It were those thoughts that made Bill realize something. He haven't heard from Davis for over two weeks. And wasn't the man supposed to have returned by now?
Hobart didn't much care for the sergeant, and if anyone would have tried to accuse him of missing the man they would have to pick up their jaw from the floor. But with Lawson being on the edge and the only person who used to calm him down gone, Bill was starting to miss the guy.
Then he realized that Blake stopped bugging Lawson at the station. While usually the man tended to hang around the station and be a bother during the times when there was no case to solve, right now he was suspiciously missing. Well, not missing per say. Bill had spotted Blake in town on occasion and knew he was taking patients. But he was absent from the station.
Putting these three things together, Bill become suspicious.
"Say Boss, when is Davis due back from his little training vacation?" Bill had asked one day, after Lawson had snapped at one of the younger constables for bringing him the wrong report.
Lawson didn't even look up at Bill though. He kept glaring at the reports in front of him, riffling for the right one.
"Shortly. What, do you miss him?"
Bill snorted.
"Hardly. But it would be nice if someone else took up the grunt job for once," he commented. Lawson shot him a glare, then nodded towards the desk.
"It's all yours if you are offering," he said and Bill snorted.
"Thanks, but I have a couple of drunks to kick out of the cells."
That was over a week ago.
Bill kept occasionally pestering Lawson about the return of their wayward sergeant, until one day Lawson gruffly answered:
"Tomorrow. Now stop bugging me and go do something useful. Make a welcome banner for Charlie for all I care, seeing as you were so impatient about his return."
Bill just rolled his eyes and went on his way, shooting a death glare at one of the constables who dared to chuckle.
Blasted Davis. He was a pain in the ass even if he wasn't there.
Well, maybe he could give him a nice welcome. Bill grinned and spent the rest of the day imagining what crappy job he might pin off on the man. Overall, he was just happy that Davis was back and that there would be someone else soothing Lawson's ire. The man still didn't seem to come out of his funk.
Bill's happiness (albeit well hidden) about Charlie's return lasted only up until the next morning.
He arrived at work early and was preparing himself a cup of coffee when the door opened and in walked Lawson, followed by his trusted sergeant. Bill already had a scathing comment on his tongue when he froze.
Charlie had turned his way and gave him a smile, obviously happy to be back at work. Bill opened his mouth but the words didn't come.
"What the hell happened to you?" he let out finally after his eyes took in the figure in front of him.
Charlie paused, the smile slipping from his face. He shot an uncertain glance towards Lawson, who just nodded and continued towards his own desk.
"Ah... a bit of an accident."
"Accident? What... were you run down by a bull?"
Bill noted the fading bruises on Charlie's face, the cast on his left arm... the hardly perceptible but still present hunch of shoulders. And was that a limp? Or did he just imagine it?
Charlie's face flushed as he gave a shrug, trying to appear nonchalant about it.
"Ah... a car actually," he said. "Didn't look both ways, you know. The usual."
Bill snorted.
A car. Sure.
He was pretty sure said car had a fist, but he decided not to comment. Well, not more than he would usually. Which meant he kept ribbing Davis the whole day, telling him to be careful with this or that in his scathing tone. For his part Charlie took the ribbing good naturedly. Way better than Lawson, who after one such retort told Bill to shut up and do his job. Even Davis paused at that and he and Bill shared a look.
Lawson was still in a mood it seemed.
And whatever caused said mood must've been connected to Davis, Bill noted. He could see the covert glances Lawson was shooting him, making sure he wasn't overdoing it. Bill also noticed that when Charlie's energy started to wane and he tried to unsuccessfully hide his third yawn, Lawson picked up the phone and made a call. It wasn't even surprising when Blake appeared shortly afterwards.
The look of consternation on Charlie's face when he realized he was being sent home after half a day and even had an escort, made the rest of Bill's day much more bearable.
When the same scenario repeated the next day, Bill was less amused.
It wasn't the fact Davis was apparently working only half days for now. Bill could understand that. He had a feeling that Lawson would've been happy with leaving Davis home altogether until the blasted cast was off his arm. The man didn't look fit for duty yet, but Bill also knew he hated to be cooped up. He wondered how long he had been back home in Ballarat and in what condition he arrived. No one would convince him that the 'car accident' didn't have something to do with Lawson's pissy mood.
However it was on day four, when Charlie looked to be ready to leave and Lawson hung up the phone with some annoyance.
"Blake is busy with patients," he grumbled, then turned to Bill. "Give Davis a ride home, will you?"
"Boss, that's not necessary. I can work the whole shift," Charlie started protesting but Lawson shook his head.
"I don't care. You are on half shifts for the rest of the week."
"I can just use the bus," Charlie tried again, annoyed.
Lawson's eyes narrowed.
"I think we had a deal, didn't we Davis?" he said strongly and Charlie paled a bit. He nodded and gave Bill an apologetic look.
Bill shrugged it off.
"Come on, Davis. I don't have all day to be your cabbie," he commented for the sake of his image. In truth, he welcomed the opportunity. Due to Davis being always escorted home by Blake, he didn't have the chance to talk to him. At the station he was constantly under Lawson's supervision and Bill was starting to suspect it was for a reason. Now he just had to figure out what were the two of them hiding.
A nice ride to the Doc's house was just the opportunity he needed.
Charlie let out a sigh, grabbed his things and followed in Bill's footsteps. Bill noted the limp was mostly gone now, but Charlie's left arm was still pressed close to his torso, as if protecting his side or ribs. Especially when he was getting tired.
Bill didn't comment on that... not until they sat in the car and were on their way.
"So... you had a good time in Sydney?"
Bill spoke up and saw Charlie grimacing minutely.
"Yeah well, you know. It was alright."
"Up till the accident?"
"Uh huh," Charlie nodded. No details provided, only a nervous twitch of his fingers.
"So... did they catch the driver?"
"What?" Charlie looked at him, seemingly confused.
"Of the car... that run you down."
"Oh." Charlie shrugged. "Nah. It... it was just an accident," he muttered and Bill frowned.
"You take me for an idiot?" he asked, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice.
"What? Of course not! What are you talking about?"
Bill rolled his eyes.
"I might not be on Blake's level, but I'm pretty sure some of those bruises on your face came from a fist. And I'd known split knuckles anywhere. So cut the crap and spill. What mess did you get yourself into?"
Charlie was looking at him, wide eyed. Then he let out an awkward chuckle, shaking his head. And damn if Bill didn't feel like smacking him on the head for that.
"You spent too long with Lawson," Charlie said. "It was an accident, that's all."
Bill gritted his teeth. He wanted to call Charlie out on his bullshit, but recognized this wasn't the right moment. Whatever happened, no one wanted to talk about it.
"An accident, huh? So what, Lawson is now worried you will get accidentally run over by another car on your way home?" he still couldn't let it slide.
Charlie sighed.
"He's just being overprotective," he grumbled, face turning towards the window.
"Any reason for it?"
"Maybe he just doesn't want to deal with Doc or Jean if anything goes wrong," he said with a shrug. Bill grunted. The rest of the ride passed mostly in silence. He noted that Charlie was keeping an eye on the road and the rear-view mirror, as if checking they weren't being followed. He seemed relieved when they turned onto the road leading to Blake's house and there was no car behind.
Bill didn't comment, but he took in all of these small details.
Maybe Davis wasn't the right one to press, not right now. The man still looked as if a stronger wind could blow him over, especially as he was getting out of the car, wincing. Bill would have followed him inside, but he saw Jean opening the door and he knew she would make sure Davis wouldn't take a header on the ground. So he just waved at the woman and turned the car.
He might've taken pity on Charlie, but Lawson was fair game at this point. Bill didn't like to be kept in the dark. He could accept when something was out of his purview and didn't concern his person, but this was different. Charlie was... something of a friend. He was a colleague at the least and despite their previous conflicts and disagreements, they came to some degree of respect towards each other. They had each other's back and especially after Ned's unfortunate demise, and their consequent training together, Bill's respect for the man grew.
He felt almost insulted by the fact he wasn't deemed trustworthy enough to learn the truth behind Charlie's accident and current state. But Bill had a tough skin and he wasn't one to give up once he put his mind to something.
Lawson might've wanted to keep him out of the picture, but the moment he made him Charlie's escort home and didn't give him any warning on whatever danger lurked around, he made this personal. Bill's fingers clutched the wheel harder.
He respected Lawson. He admired the man, if for nothing else then his stubbornness and ability to stick around despite all the blunders Blake caused in these last years. But he drew the point at being lied to when there was obviously something wrong.
No, Bill's patience was over. He was ready to confront Lawson and learn just what the hell was going on. He wasn't going to stand around waiting for something to happen. Not after Ned. Whatever threat Davis and Lawson faced, Bill decided he would know.
Four days until the trial. It was Thursday now. Charlie had one more shift at work, one day to rest and Sunday he would head to Leighton, accompanied by Lawson (and most likely Blake as well though they didn't talk about that yet). Charlie was kind of hoping he might get rid of the blasted cast by then. It was nothing but a nuisance now, one that made his hand itch irritatingly. Charlie couldn't wait for everything to be over and done with. His body had mostly healed up and if not for the threat of Kenneth or someone else connected to the Leighton case popping up and shutting him up before the trial, Charlie would have been able to enjoy several runs already. As it was, he occasionally sneaked out at odd hours but the run never felt so freeing and it quickly lost its appeal.
At least last night's call to Johnson gave him a bit of hope that things were starting to go their way.
"We got him," Johnson said, voice excited.
"Got whom?" Charlie asked confused. He just wanted to know the exact hour of the trial, but Johnson obviously had some news.
"The snitch!"
Charlie waited in silence.
"The little bastard... he worked at the main desk. He was leaking information to Kenneth's father and several other people in the inner circle. But we got him and he already started singing."
"That's great," Charlie noted, his lips turning up in a smile. "So you don't even need me there?" he joked.
"Sorry mate... you still need to come," Johnson said, his voice losing some of the joy. "He can help us with the old guys, but it's still all circumstantial. Without yours and Caleb's testimony..."
"How's Caleb?"
"Better I think. Getting ready."
Charlie wanted to ask more but he was aware that the phone wasn't the best way to do it. And Johnson probably didn't have the answers anyway.
"One more thing," Johnson spoke, bringing Charlie back to the conversation. "Someone fitting Kenneth's description was spotted in Darwin, boarding a fishing boat. We think it was headed up north, possibly Indonesia."
Charlie grimaced.
"Who was the source?"
"Darwin police station. One of their officers was patrolling the shipyard and thought the face was familiar, but he didn't figure out where from until he returned to the station and saw the wanted poster," Johnson said with a frustrated sigh.
"So we can't really be sure?"
"I wouldn't bet my life on it, no," Johnson said.
"Any sign of Ben there?"
"No, but that doesn't mean much. He might've already been on the ship."
"Or somewhere else."
"Yes well, we better take it with a grain of salt I suppose. But hey... only few more days to go and then this will be all over."
"Yes," Charlie couldn't wait for that. He hung up and went to bed with a much better mood.
He kind of wished it had lasted him through the next day.
The morning was still in high spirits. While he had forgone the run, he managed to snatch a bit longer shower than usual and still leave enough hot water for Lawson not to get a scolding.
They drove to work together and the first few hours went as usual. Boring desk job, taking phone calls and statements, answering different queries from the civilians bringing in complaints. Slowly typing up reports. Nothing to write home about.
Then Lawson got a phone call and suddenly there was a case. Unidentified dead body in lake Wendouree.
Charlie just itched to go out and delve into the investigation, but when he stood, Lawson sent him a glare.
"Where do you think you're going Davis?"
Charlie sighed.
"Come on Boss, I feel ready," he said and pretended it wasn't a whine.
Lawson shook his head.
"I don't care. You are sitting this one out, am I understood?"
Charlie felt his face blush with embarrassment. He could feel the eyes of other cops on him. For them, this must've looked like coddling. Or maybe punishment. Hobart smirked at him and followed Lawson out of the office. Charlie surly settled back behind his desk, determined to be at least of some help.
He didn't understand why Lawson kept him on desk duty anyway. He was fine, almost back to his old self. And it wasn't like he would be in danger, surrounded by other people and cops. Who in their sane mind would try to get rid of him standing right next to Lawson after all?
But he could hardly argue the matter. He was still on a bit of thin ice where Lawson was concerned and going against his wishes until the whole affair was settled would be stupid. Especially since he had to not only work for the man but also share accommodations. Right along a doting Jean and well... concerned Blake. He wasn't sure whether to soak up all the care or be irritated by it. He was still battling with those feelings, unable to simply accept it as it was.
"Why the long face?" Rose asked and Charlie looked up to see the journalist standing in front of his desk with her trusty camera and a quirky smile on her face. He felt his own face adjust to reflect the same smile.
They have finally gotten into that comfortable level of friendship that exes sometimes had. And he had to admit, Rose was a welcome distraction during the last few weeks. Ever since she discovered Charlie had returned home, her visits helped with killing some of the time. Of course keeping the truth from her was impossible and she quickly learned about Charlie's adventures. However, a short talk from Lawson ensured that she would keep her mouth and pen shut until everything was done. Until then... Charlie was pretty sure she was doing some enquiries in the background about the Deputy Commissioner, but he could hardly do anything about it. As long as she kept safe and made sure none of her queries could be traced back to Ballarat.
"What are you doing here?" Charlie asked when Rose plopped into the chair in front of him. Her raised eyebrow showed it came out more rude than intended and Charlie gave an apologetic shrug. "I mean... with the dead body, I would expect you to be down there. You know... taking pictures, being sneaky."
Rose rolled her eyes.
"I took some pictures, then I was not so politely kicked out by uncle Matthew," she complained.
"So you came here to try and find out more details?" Charlie noted. She smirked.
"You know me so well."
Charlie raised a brow.
"So... what do you know?" she asked after a moment of silence.
"Possibly less than you at this point," Charlie admitted with a sigh. It was her turn to look surprised.
"What did you do?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, affronted.
"Well... you must've done something. Uncle Matthew wouldn't keep you at the desk otherwise."
Charlie felt slight irritation at the accusation.
"I didn't do anything," he grumbled, leaning against his desk. "Though I suppose he doesn't want me getting involved in anything right now."
Rose's brow furrowed, then her face cleared.
"Ah. The trial." She nodded. "I forgot it's next week."
Charlie doubted she could forget something like that but he didn't argue with her.
"Well... seeing as you are here... what can you tell me about the case?" he asked, itching to get some information.
Rose rolled her eyes.
"Nothing useful," she sighed and stood up.
"Hey, going so soon?" Charlie asked, oddly disappointed.
"I must. I'm still working so I need to find another source. Maybe we can chat more tomorrow? Jean invited me for the Friday roast," she said with a grin.
Charlie nodded, unable to hide his annoyance.
"Ah, don't be so grumpy. I'm sure you will hear all about the case at tonight's dinner. I can imagine it will be a lovely conversation at the table," she added with a smile and left. Charlie grimaced. Right. The dinner was just the time when he wanted to hear all about the intricacies of a body decomposition or different types of drowning.
Disgruntled and feeling oddly left out, Charlie headed over the small kitchenette. He would make himself some tea and hopefully get through this day with his pride intact. Or well... less so.
The work day was finally over. It was five o'clock and Charlie was just about ready to go home. After Rose's visit he at least got somehow involved in the investigation of the case, even though it was all paperwork and phone calls. Lawson gracefully included him in an interview of several possible witnesses, though so far no one really knew what the victim died off.
That meant that Blake was busy in the morgue, assisting Alice with the autopsy. Based on previous experience, Charlie knew the man would most likely miss dinner. Lawson on his part was stuck in an impromptu meeting at the courthouse, seeing as the victim worked as the judge's associate. While everything lead to the belief that the man had died of natural causes, his job assignment made things tricky. Everything had to be covered, every step taken properly to ensure the investigation was running smoothly.
So happened that Charlie found himself basically stranded at the police station. Both of his prospective rides were off and he had a choice of either waiting for who knew how long or taking the bus. None of these were a prospect he would be looking forward to. When Lawson was leaving the station, he told Charlie to grab a ride with Hobart. That would have been all well and dandy, but Hobart had also vanished and Charlie wasn't sure he was coming back after work hours, just to pick up his sorry ass.
Feeling a tad rebellious, Charlie decided to take one of the police cars and drive himself home. He wasn't a blasted child after all.
He let the officer manning the evening shift know and left. Driving the car alone, without anyone serving as his innocuous bodyguard, Charlie felt a jolt of excitement. He rolled down the window and took in a deep breath, happy when it didn't bring any discomfort. It was so nice to be alone for a moment... to not feel smothered by everyone. He realized he was being a bit unfair, after all, barely a month ago the only thing he wished for was the safety of his friends and family. Right now though, it all felt a bit too much. Soon though... only few more days and everything could go back to normal.
He could finally stop looking across his shoulders.
With that thought on mind, Charlie's foot tapped harder against the gas pedal. The wind from the rolled down window blew a bit of dust into his face and Charlie squinted. He reached to roll the window back up when he noticed an unfamiliar car pulling out from the side road, quickly speeding up behind him.
Charlie closed the window and shot a look into the rear-view mirror. He stepped down from the gas just a bit, thinking he would let the car pass. He was still under the limit, but if the car kept up the speed it was going at, he would have to stop it. Charlie hoped the driver wasn't blind and noticed he was trailing a police car.
But maybe that was the purpose, Charlie thought, frowning.
The earlier excitement over driving home himself had taken a plunge, instead there was a pit of worry growing in his stomach. The car was drawing closer and there was no indication of it slowing or trying to pass Charlie. What was more, the car didn't seem familiar at all. Charlie couldn't read the plate in the rear-view mirror, though he was sure that if it continued, he would soon have it imprinted in the back of his own car.
As if reading his mind, the driver of the car stepped on the gas. Charlie only saw the red hood approaching, then felt a lurch as the other car hit the back of his own.
Charlie was more surprised by the jolt than angry at this point. He clutched the wheel, trying to keep his car on the road, while uttering several choice curses.
'What the hell's your problem?' he thought as he glanced into the rear-view mirror. He still couldn't see the driver's face, as the sun kept reflecting in the window, though he noticed there was someone else sitting in the passenger seat.
Charlie's stomach turned.
'No bloody way!' he thought as there was another jolt, this one causing the car to swerve a bit. Charlie stepped on the gas, deciding that trying to gain some distance between them was prudent right now. He managed to keep a few meters gap but knew he wouldn't make it too far and he really didn't want to bring this to Blake's doorstep with only Jean at home.
His left hand reached for the radio to call some help, but it was too late. His hand missed the transmitter as the car was rocked by another hit.
Whoever was driving the other car was clearly losing his patience. This time the impact as the two cars connected wasn't where it stopped. It felt as if both cars got stuck together, his own being pushed ahead by the other one. Charlie tried to step on the gas but it was to no avail.
It didn't take much really.
There was a sharp right turn ahead of them. Charlie tried to follow it, but the other car decided that was the best time to stop badgering him from the back and come up to his side.
Charlie finally got a look at his pursuer.
He noticed the wild grin, the crazy eyes.
Then the driver swerved, the side of his car crashing into Charlie's side.
Charlie lost grip on the wheel and before he knew it, the car was off the road.
He spotted the bushes and the overgrown gum tree aiming his way, then there was nothing but darkness.