Boosting - Chapter 12

Con was already at his desk when Nancy arrived at work the next morning, much to her surprise. She didn't peg him as an early riser, but he'd proven her wrong. Or so she assumed, until he spoiled it by saying: "I thought I'd better get in before you. After seeing that look you gave me on the stairs, I was worried you'd run out on me before I got in!"

"As if—" She smiled sweetly at him.

"Butter really wouldn't melt in your mouth," Con said.

"Shall we see if you've had any email responses before we go and meet Martin about the car?" Nancy asked, and went to boot up Fenton's computer.

Con's phone rang. He reached over and picked up the receiver, and because it was cordless, was able to amble across the office in order to watch over her shoulder. "Con Riley speaking…how's it goin' Fen?"

Nancy looked up and smiled at the mention of her boyfriend's father's name and then she went back to entering passwords.

"Nancy? Sure is, she's right here."

The phone appeared in front of Nancy's face as Con handed it down to her. She automatically took it and pinned it in place between her shoulder and ear so she still had both hands free to continue booting up the PC. "Hi Fenton."

"Hi Honey. I was wondering if you'd had any information for me about Bobbie Shandley."

Nancy frowned. "What do you mean, 'information'? I'm looking for Frank's car, remember, Bobbie's your baby. Am I missing something?" Losing interest in the computer, she took the phone in her left hand again and concentrated properly.

"Perhaps I should have explained first." Fenton said. "After I spoke to Bobbie's father, he allowed me free reign in her bedroom and I found a scrapbook hidden under a floorboard. In that book, there were all these dossiers she'd written about private detectives. We were all in it, other than Con, but particularly you. At the bottom of your details, she'd written 'March 13, River Heights', so I think she was planning on visiting you."

"I wasn't at home at that time, I was with Frank – that was around about the time she disappeared, wasn't it." It wasn't a question, Nancy knew the answer to that already, she was just totally baffled as to why Bobbie would be planning on visiting her. "Bobbie really wrote that in her book?"

"Yep. I remembered you'd not been at home, but I wondered if perhaps your father might have met with her instead? Perhaps mentioned off-hand that you'd had a visitor?"

"Not that I recall." Nancy answered, giving it some serious thought. "Are you heading to River Heights next?"

"Yes I am. Do you think Carson will mind me turning up on his doorstep, or will you call ahead for me?"

Nancy glanced at the desk calendar to check the day of the week. "Just drop in. Hannah will be there today and will be thrilled to meet you in the flesh at last. I'll let you surprise her!"

"She won't mind?"

"Quite the opposite," Nancy assured him. "Strange that Bobbie would be coming to see me in order to follow up on a lead. Intriguing. Let us know if you uncover anything."

"Will do."

"Can you hang on a second, Mr H? I need to ask Con something." She put her hand over the mouthpiece and addressed her temporary partner. "Shall I update him on Frank's job situation?"

"Do it."

"Fenton?"

"I'm still here, honey."

"We thought we ought to give you a heads up – Chief Collig and Con have both been asked to provide written references for Frank with regard to that job he was interviewed for…well…not that job actually, a better one." There followed an impressively extended silence, to the point where Nancy had to prompt him into responding: "Fenton?"

"Sorry…thanks for letting me know." he responded, flatly.

"Oh, yeah, bye, Mr H." But Fenton had already disconnected. She returned the handset to Con. "Erm, I don't think that went down well, he near enough hung up on me."

"Did he?" Con considered the phone in his hand and started dialling. "I'm ringing him back," he explained and backed out of the office and into the corridor.

A little while later and Nancy could hear Con having a conversation with Fenton, but couldn't ascertain what was being said. Eventually, Con re-entered the room and smiled thinly at her.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"It will be – it came as a blow is all. Fenton feels things a lot more…keenly…than he'd have us know on the outside – especially where his family are concerned." Con went and returned the phone to its cradle and fetched his chair to pull it up next to Nancy. "What did Fen want you for?"

"He's on his way to see my folks. Apparently Bobbie was going to visit me around about the same time as she disappeared. How coincidental is that?"

"All the more reason that I stick to you like glue," Con said, peaking an eyebrow.

Nancy pulled a face. "I'll teach you to underestimate a girl!" she warned. "You'll learn, big guy – being a female detective has its benefits, it's not all about brawn." Returning to the computer, she pulled up the email account. "A-ha, you have three messages already!"

"Let's have a look-see."

*****

The next morning, the brothers had their breakfast and Frank announced that they needed to go and get some supplies. "Unless you want a can of sardines for dinner with a dash of gravy!" He turned grinning, displaying the can.

Joe pursed his lips and making a play of thinking hard, tapping on his lips. "Hmm—"

Neither of them had mentioned what had happened the night before, and Joe assumed that his brother must have caught up on a few hours sleep because he'd not emerged from his room for an hour or so after Joe, and he did seem a lot fresher – unless he was doing an Oscar winning acting job.

"—Hmm, as tempting as that sounds…and you know how much I LOVE sardines and gravy…I think you might have a point," Joe agreed. "Let's go now and we can have a trek around the town."

They grabbed their jackets and gloves, etcetera, and headed for their bikes. As usual, Frank was the first one gunning his motor into life and pulling away. Joe only seconds after him, keeping pace.

They took it carefully around the poor surface conditions until they got onto the main road again and then Frank opened up the throttle and picked up speed. Joe performed a wheelie so as not to allow his brother to out-gun him and shot up the side of the red bike until he stole in front. Frank made a rude hand gesture.

They began meeting more traffic as they neared the small nearby town and Joe glanced in his mirror to check his brother was still behind him. They were approaching a blind turn and he pointed to warn Frank in advance. Frank raised his thumb to indicate that he'd already spotted it.

Seconds later and Joe was around the bend with Frank coming through immediately afterwards.

Just ahead of them and approaching on the other side was a trailer truck which was ambling along at a reasonable speed, beginning to slow down in order to ready itself to take the blind corner – which as it turned out was possibly a lucky break for one of the brothers, because Joe suddenly noticed in his mirror that Frank was inexplicably slewing at an alarming angle across from his side and into the direct path of the oncoming truck.

Joe was so shocked that he physically looked over his shoulder and almost lost control of his own bike, feeling it starting to shudder under him as he went off course and hit a rough patch at the side of the asphalt. He was forced to look forward again and battle to straighten up, but he'd been in time to observe Frank disappear from sight in front of the large vehicle, the red bike listing dangerously to one side, his brother apparently making no moves towards trying to save himself.

There came the horrible wailing and throaty honk of the truck's horn, the sound cutting through everything apart from the frightening clattering noise of the bike going completely over, which appeared in Joe's mirror half a second later, rider-less and sliding into sight on the opposite grass verge, the still spinning back wheel sending up clods of earth, the bike jerking and shrieking – seemingly in the throws of some sort of screaming, agonised, mechanical seizure.

Joe hadn't been able to see what had happened to Frank, but the truck had applied its air brakes, the hissing of the pistons resonating and the tires leaving smoky black tread marks on the road surface. At this stage, Joe could only assume Frank had gone under, but prayed that he was wrong to assume such a horrible outcome. He couldn't fathom how the truck could have missed his brother from the angle and speed the bike had been sliding.

Taking his bike into a skid, Joe turned and started back the way he'd come, fearing the worst. By the time he was blasting up the side of the truck and smelling scorched rubber, the driver had his door open and was beginning to jump down urgently from his cab, shouting and agitated.

Joe rounded the truck and saw his brother lying in the road, jammed up against the huge right front tire. The bike had actually come to a halt not so far away from its owner, and it miraculously didn't appear as if the truck had struck Frank, although hitting the ground itself could have caused a lot of damage to someone coming off a bike at that speed.

Stopping as quickly as possible, Joe dumped his motorcycle onto the grass next to his brother's and abandoned his helmet to run to Frank's aid. The truck driver was standing above him and shouting about him being an "Idiot!"

"Go easy, buddy!" Joe yelled at the driver and scooted under the truck to get to his brother's side. "Hey Frank, hey – you okay?" he asked, unclipping his brother's visor and pushing it up.

Frank was looking back at him, his face a blanket of pale bewilderment. "I think so – what happened?" he asked, and started to try and raise himself. "How did I end up on the other side of the road?"

Joe put his hands squarely against Frank's chest and started visually scanning him up and down, looking for obvious injuries. "No, don't move, make sure you're okay first."

"Listen to your friend," the truck driver agreed, leaning over Joe's shoulder. "You might have broken something without realising it."

"No, really, I'm fine." Frank insisted, pushing Joe's arms away, but not belligerently. "I didn't even hurt my knee. Frank sat up, shuffled himself away from the truck's wheel and pulled his helmet off. He looked up at the driver. "Sorry. Are you okay?"

"You're the one on the ground!" The driver said sardonically, and gave him a little smile. "Sorry I shouted; you scared the hell out of me falling in front of my wheels like that. You were lucky I was taking it easy on the speed."

Frank looked back and considered the massive wheel that he'd been lying up against. "Boy, that was so close!" he muttered.

Cars were starting to slow down as they passed, having a good look at what was happening and then quickly losing interest when it was clear there was no blood and guts involved.

Frank accepted Joe's offer of a forearm and was hauled to his feet. Joe kept hold for a few seconds as his brother seemed a little unsteady, but Frank let go and turned to look back at where his bike had settled, its engine still ticking over. He was obviously still totally baffled.

Joe narrowed his eyes. He had a good idea of what had probably occurred – Frank had indeed been putting on a good performance that morning and had lost concentration through lack of rest, possibly even having gone as far as to fall physically asleep. That was the only explanation for his brother's bewilderment.

"Oh well, no harm done," the trucker said finally. "If it's okay with you boys, I'll be on my way."

"Thanks for not running over me," Frank said and shook the man's hand before going to heave up his bike and kill the engine. He hunkered down next to it to begin checking for damage.

The truck driver took Joe by the upper arm and had him accompany him back to his vehicle. "You need to get some strong coffee into that boy before you go on any more long rides," he whispered meaningfully before swinging back into his cab and driving away with a small wave.

Joe could do little more than agree.