Chapter 9 – Considerations

Ash peered across the pub table at her new partner, who was giving her an odd look.

Scribbs gazed right back at her. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing what?" Ash shook her head. "Look Scribbs, if we're going to get on, you have to let me into that pretty blond head of yours."

Scribbs preened her short hair. "It wasn't always blond. Not when I was over in Thatchford."

"Really," Ash said after taking a drink of her steaming coffee. "God my feet are still frozen."

"Yeah, I'm freezing as well. Jet black though; dyed." She toyed with her short hair. "My hair."

Ash thought about it and replied, "Doesn't seem that color would suit you."

Scribbs shook her head. "Nope. Made me look quite... jolly, right? About as jolly as our late citizens." She leaned forward to whisper. "And over at Thatchford Nick, it was all a late turn."

"Late turn?" Ash leaned in. "Night work then."

"Weeks of it." Scribbs peered around and lower her voice more. "Dodgy stuff. With black hair, and a full set of leathers – oh my God, I was quite the stunner. Not."

"I hope you were undercover."

Scribbs looked around the crowded room and nodded once.

Ash tensed. She didn't really know the woman. "Right. So you…" Did Scribbs just say she was into something unsavory at Thatchford police?

Scribbs shook her head. "Never been a bent copper, but some have. That was the thing… at the other Nick."

"Scribbs! Shush!" Ash yelled, just as the waiter brought their dinners.

The man had to notice the tenseness of the two women as he laid their dinners down. "Need anything here?"

Scribbs smiled at him and he blushed. "Oh, I can think of a few things, but my mate and I do need more drink. Another pint for me and more coffee for my friend."

The young fellow smiled. "Right away."

Scribbs admired his backside in the tight black jeans as he strode away. "Hmmm, nice. How old you think is? Twenty-five? Twenty-eight? Think he goes for older women?"

Ash turned her head to see that Scribbs was checking out his bum so she scowled.

"What?" Scribbs hissed. "And you never checked out a bloke?"

"I have and I do, but," Ash shook her head, "technically we are still on duty."

"It's just a second pint, Kate. Jeeze." Scribbs looked at her watch. "Looking won't hurt, and besides Weatherall said give him a couple hours. At least we got the bare bones of a report on file."

"And got to bag the found evidence, transport it to station, and then get it registered as evidence." Ash yawned. "How did we end up in this business?" she whispered. "Dead bodies, murders, and missing persons?"

Scribbs grinned as she dug into her fish and chips. "Only my tenth deader; and eleventh, I suppose."

"It's a living," Ash answered. "It is about public safety." She bit her cheek. How many for her? She thought about it. How many murder victims had she seen in four-and-a-half years? Twenty-five? No, twenty-eight. She shuddered; a ghoulish score.

Scribbs went on, saying, "And a bit of retribution, for you know as well as I do that most of the perps only do the deed once and never again. It's the punishment part that gets me."

Ash bristled. "So you think we just let them go?"

"No, not what I'm saying." Scribbs sipped her beer. "God I hate these long days."

Ash sighed. "Plays hell with relationships, don't it? I don't fancy any boyfriend would like these hours." She yawned. That had put paid to her last two friends – the hours she worked. How many dates had she missed because of an investigation?

"Oh my yes. And you? Got a fella?"

"Not at the moment." Ash didn't want to go into her dating habits, which had been infrequent of late. "You?"

"Not since I moved down here from Thatchford."

"Bust up?"

Scribbs downed what was left of her pint. "You might say that. He was the one I arrested."

Ash sat back. There was more to Emma Scribbins than met the eye. "I…" She picked up her fork and began to tuck in. "Right."

Scribbs played with her pint glass and then sighed. "And yes he was nice, ahem, in certain ways, but selling drugs to the uni crowd was rather off putting."

Ash grinned at her. "What certain ways?" she asked mischievously. "Selling drugs?"

Scribbs sniggered. "Tick a lock. I won't tell tales out of school."

"Scribbs, I'm not prying for Heaven's sake."

"Yes you are, friend."

Ash smiled and held up her fingers a quarter inch apart. "Teeny bit." Scribbs began to eat her fish while Ash worked on her chicken. "A nice man? And drugs, you said?"

"A bit of a messy snogger, but the shagging was nice," Scribbs muttered grinning from ear to ear.

"Scribbs! My God!"

"What? Like you don't think about your boyfriends that way?"

Ash ducked her head. "Just lower your voice."

"Right," mumbled Scribbs, "and I'm no sex fiend if that's what you think. But look at you! You're blushing, fer chrissakes."

Ash held up her hand. "Just let it go Scribbs."

"Kate, I was with the guy, okay? It's… look, we… uhm, dated… and then I got assigned undercover, and it ended up that the dirty money - drug money - led to him, my boyfriend, who also was a cop. He handled moving the cash to safe havens."

Ash looked very hard at Scribbs across the table. "Now I think I could use a pint."