"Sure Heath," Watson said as he hung up on her. She smirked. He'd made no indication of being aware of her cover being blown, instead, he'd been more pissed at Rosetta for fucking up, because he was apparently one of Pirovic's men and had been sent to take those two women out as a favour to Brax. While that titbit had surprised her, she was doubly glad now that he'd failed, as killing those bitches was her task and now that she had the connection, she reckoned she could place Rosetta, only he'd been known as Angelo Cabrini. She'd never met him personally, but Heath and Brax were always making crude jokes about Hammer and his lapdog. So, Hammer's fuck buddy was a cop. Knowing Hammer, he must have loved pulling his strings as much as he loved pulling his cock.

Ignoring the no smoking sign pinned to the wall right next to her and the glare of the other diner patrons, Watson lit her cigarette. She'd decided to stick with the uniform, at least until her face was all over the press, but had decided to dispense with her nametag before she walked into the diner and now she stared back at the other customers, as if daring any of them to say something.

"Ah, excuse me officer, but this is a no smoking establishment."

Watson eyed off the woman who had just spoken. She was ethnic, Greek she guessed and she was cute, wedding ring and all, not that that would ever stop her. Watson looked at the waitress' nametag, letting her eyes linger a little lower for a moment, then caught her eyes. She smiled at her. "Sorry Leah, it's been a long drive and I just needed to relax."

"I'm sorry but you're going to have to put it out or take it outside."

The woman had guts, of which she approved and after drawing a long puff on her smoke, Watson tossed it into the drink of the patron sitting at the next table.

"Hey!" he objected.

"Hey what?" she challenged.

"Nothing," he replied and muttered under his breath, "Fucking cops think they can get away with everything."

"I'll get you a new one, Frank," Leah told him.

"Tell me Leah, what do you recommend here?" Watson asked in a sugary sweet voice.

"Today's special is a good one."

"I'll have that then," she said with a wink at Leah who blushed in response. "Oh, before you go, I was wondering if you could help me. I'm looking for this woman," Watson said and showed a picture of Joey to Leah. "She may have witnessed a serious crime and I really need to talk to her, but I haven't been able to get a hold of her. She was probably travelling with a woman, a good looking sort with stunning blue eyes."

"Oh, yeah, they were here earlier," Leah said. "Things looked a little tense between them when they left."

Watson couldn't help but smile. She'd found this lead purely by chance and because of her hungry stomach. Even better, if there was tension between them, it may cause them to make a mistake.

"Do you know how long ago that was?"

"Sorry, I've been rushed off my feet most of the night, so I wasn't really paying attention to the time," replied Leah.

"Damn," she muttered.

"Sorry, I wish I could be of more help," Leah said. "I'll get your order now."

With a firm promise from Joey to answer her questions, Charlie had agreed to leave the diner and get back onto the road before Joey said anything further. Only once in the car, nothing more had been said between them for the first hour or so. That was her own fault, because she'd suddenly become unsure how exactly to tackle this. It was all very well to want answers, but first the questions had to be asked and she'd suddenly found herself tongue-tied. Why was this so hard? Ah, maybe because Joey has two guns and knew how to use them, came the small voice in her head. Oh shut up, she told that annoying voice. And it wasn't like she herself was unarmed. She still had Angelo's knife safely hidden and while a knife would be useless against a gun, she still held the element of surprise. Ok, so you're armed and have been banging on for ages about wanting to know who the hell Joey was, so just ask the fucking questions. Satisfied she was now motivated enough, Charlie asked the first question that came to mind.

"Well?" Charlie said. Wow, very hard-hitting question right there, she thought drolly. At least it was short, to the point and blunt, as was her usual way. When she wasn't tongue-tied, that is.

"Well what?" Joey said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "If you want to know something Charlie, just spit it out."

"You know how to fight."

"I do ok."

"You do more than ok," she said. "You held your own against a much stronger opponent."

"Yeah, but he was easily distracted and let his emotions get the better of him, so he made mistakes, which played in my favour and helped to counter his strength," Joey told her. "The guy underestimated me."

"I'd definitely agree that he underestimated you," Charlie said. "Your fighting style is that of someone who knows how to fight, which I'm sure surprised the hell out of him."

"I learnt to defend myself at an early age, nothing wrong with that," she said.

"And the pen?" said Charlie. "Do you think it normal to jab a pen into someone's eye without any fuss?"

"I didn't jab it, I threw it," Joey told her. "There is a difference."

"Does it matter?" she countered. "You still put a pen into another person's eye without a hint of remorse."

"I'm just trying to be accurate, since you're so interested in wanting the truth," replied Joey. "And let's not forget that Angelo wanted me dead, he wanted us both dead," she said. "Charlie, I was fighting for my life and the pen was all I had. It was either him or me and you would have done the same."

"Probably," Charlie conceded. "Doubt I would have had the skill to hit such a small target though."

"You're assuming I was aiming for his eye."

"Were you?"

"I was aiming for a chance to get the upper hand."

"That didn't really answer my question."

"Charlie, I threw the bloody pen ok, does it really matter if I hit what I was aiming for or if it was just a lucky throw?"

"Yes, it does," argued Charlie. "One is pot luck, while the other demonstrates yet another skill you've hidden from me until now."

"Okay, fair enough. Was I specifically aiming for his eye?" said Joey. "No. I had a split second to react and that's what I did," she explained. "I admit, I was going for his face though, because I was hoping that he'd either react by ducking out of the way, giving me time to make another move or the pen would connect, allowing the same to happen. Either way, I was just looking for a chance to turn the tables on him any way I could."

"Ok, I can understand that," Charlie reasonably said. "And maybe hitting his eye with a pen was flukey, but those three shots to Angelo's chest, that was nothing to do with luck and everything to do with skill," she said. "Not only have you looked extremely confident and comfortable holding a gun in your hand, that grouping of shots on Angelo was the mark of a pro."

"A pro in that I've had some training with guns," Joey admitted. "I had a foster dad who used to go out duck hunting and he used to take me with him. He also used to take me to a shooting range to shoot with a handgun."

"What sort of foster father does that?"

"One who didn't discriminate based on gender," replied Joey. "Look, he had an interest and one day I asked him if he'd take me with him and he said yes. I appreciated it, because he was the first foster parent I had who was actually happy to include me in something he enjoyed doing, beyond taking the weekly paycheque from the department, that is."

Charlie knew Joey had grown up in foster care and had been moved from home to home, so it was plausible that she saw a chance to share an interest as a way to belong. However, shooting ducks or stationary targets was a lot different to shooting another human being and she had done so without hesitation. Then again, Joey had shot Angelo in order to save her life, which could have been the spur Joey needed to act. Problem was, Charlie wasn't quite sure what to believe just yet.

"Ok, so fine, your foster dad taught you how to use a gun," said Charlie. "Did he also have a hand in teaching you the other skills as well?"

"Such as?"

"Stealing," replied Charlie. "You have no qualms in stealing someone's car."

"Nope, I don't."

"Or breaking and entering."

"We needed petrol and if that servo had been open like they were meant to be, then there wouldn't have been any need to break in."

"That's not the point," Charlie said. "It's that you have no problem breaking into someone else's property, not to mention that picking that lock was child's play to you."

"So I'm not Little Miss Vanilla," said Joey.

"No, you're definitely not that," she said. "You steal, pick locks and lie, all with absolute ease. That car salesman and the B&B owner, you had them eating out of your hand, which tells me you're very adept at deception as well."

Joey shrugged in reply.

"You're a criminal," Charlie stated.

"That's a bit harsh."

"Am I wrong?"

"Depends on which side you're on."

"There it is again," complained Charlie. "Being a smartarse and making light of it when I'm trying to be serious."

"Sorry, it's a reflex reaction."

"It seriously pisses me off."

"Sorry."

Charlie glared at her, then she relaxed a little when Joey's apology seemed genuine.

"Then there's that credit card you used to buy the car," Charlie continued on. "Your name wasn't on it."

"No, it wasn't."

"You denied stealing it, so why then do you have a card with someone else's name on it?" she asked. "Do you use a fake name because the money in that account is stolen?"

"Charlie, I may be many things, but I'm not a thief," Joey said, to which Charlie snorted. "Ok, I'll rephrase that. I may occasionally borrow other people's property in a time of need, but I have never stolen anything with the sole purpose of keeping it for monetary gain."

"Then where did that card and the money come from?"

"Work."

"What exactly do you do, because odd jobs around the docks doesn't really fit in with what I'm starting to learn about you."

"Really, because I really do work odd jobs on the docks."

"Are they legal?"

"As far as I'm aware, they are."

"The Braxtons have business interests on the docks, any of it involve you?"

"I work for a lot of people down there," Joey said.

"Including the Braxtons?" Charlie persisted. She really wished they'd had time to do a more thorough background check on Joey's work habits before the shit hit the fan.

"Charlie, I really don't look that hard into the owners of the boats and warehouses down there, because it's the foremen, captains and other workers that I deal directly with."

"So you could be a Braxton employee," said Charlie. "Same as Watson. Did you know about her?"

"I say with absolute truthfulness, that the first time I ever heard of or met Watson, was at the same time I met you," she said.

"I'm not one for believing in coincidences," said Charlie. "You're connected to the docks where the Braxtons have interests and you could very well work for them, whether you realise it or not. Then we have you fleeing the scene of a murder in which the Braxtons are the main, no, the only suspects," she said and then it hit her. Joey was good with guns, she was fleeing the scene. Charlie's eyes widened in sudden horror. "Oh my god, did you kill Harvey Ryan!"

Watson yawned as she headed back to her car. Yawning was becoming a habit lately and she knew her body was telling her to get some rest. She hated the idea of Joey and Charlie putting more distance between them, but she needed a break from driving and chances were, her prey was already shacked up somewhere for the night, so she shouldn't lose too much time catching up on some sleep. Besides, they'd already bested her once and now that they'd taken care of Pirovic's man, she knew she'd need to be at the top of her game and not half asleep, when it came time to confront them.

"Come here bitch!"

Watson spun around.