Valentine's Day

Valentine’s Day

Copyright 2017 LJ Perry

Published by ReadIt Publishing at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Other books by LJ Perry

CHAPTER ONE

Valentine knew as soon as she opened her front door that it was bad news. The young man on her doorstep peering through the flyscreen door was a policeman, her instincts told her so.

Mrs Baxter? enquired James. His vision of the woman behind the door was hazy, he just got an impression of a slim, dark haired feminine form of medium height.

Yes? she replied, making no attempt to open the outer door.

Mrs Baxter, my name is Detective James Mitchell. I need to talk to you.

Reluctantly Valentine unlocked the door and swung it outwards, dreading the words she would hear. She felt cold, matching the miserable constant drizzle of rain that was the backdrop behind the dark haired stranger.

She looked into dark solemn eyes. You’d better come in, she invited, turning away and leading James down the passage way of the house and into the kitchen.

James was taken by surprise. His clear view of Valentine Baxter showed an attractive woman, with shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes and dressed in a purple pullover and denim jeans. She was much younger than he expected.

He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. Valentine stood next to the table, looking at him expectantly, defensive.

Mrs Baxter. James stopped, then started again. Mrs Baxter, I don’t know how else to tell you this, but ... As he spoke, he moved towards Valentine, seeing the alarm building in her expression.

He continued now, wanting to tell her quickly. There was an accident involving Tony. I’m sorry, there was nothing anybody could do.

He’s dead? Her voice came out a strangled whisper.

James nodded. Yes. I’m sorry. He was right in front of her now, seeing the confusion and disbelief on her face.

She shook her head. No, no, it can’t be him. No! she screamed at James, lashing out at his chest with her fists.

Taken completely off guard, James instinctively grabbed her wrists to stop the blows. Valentine’s sanity returned in that instant, and she dropped her head forward, dissolving into tears. James loosened his grip on her wrists and pulled her into the circle of his arms; allowing her to sob against his shoulder. The top of her head lay against his cheek, and he inhaled the sweet smell of her freshly shampooed hair. He held her silently, feeling the grief wrack her body with great tremors.

After a few minutes, Valentine managed to control the sobbing, and took a few steadying deep breaths. She had felt safe and comforted in James’ arms. A feeling she hadn’t had access to in a long time.

Reluctantly pulling away from his body, she looked up into his face.

I’m sorry I hit you, she apologised.

James had never seen such hurt, tragic brown eyes. It doesn’t matter, he answered, reaching for his handkerchief in his pocket and attempting to dab at the tears on her face.

Thank you. Valentine took the handkerchief off him and wiped her eyes and nose. I’ve made your shirt wet, as well. She tried to laugh, but it came out like an hysterical giggle. James felt the cold spot on his shoulder and put his hand to it, feeling the wetness.

Valentine, he said, reaching for her arm, and leading her to a chair, making her sit. She was like a robot.

Valentine, he repeated. Is there anyone I can phone to ask to come and stay with you?

She shook her head. No, I’ll be fine, thank you. She sighed and stood up. I’ll have to tell the kids when they get home.

James didn’t want to leave her alone. When will they be here? he asked.

Valentine looked puzzled, trying to think of the answer. Oh, um, this afternoon, she managed finally, her mind in turmoil.

Look, explained James, worried now. I don’t have to leave just now. Can I make you a cup of tea?

A weak, teary smile appeared on Valentine’s face. Thanks, that would be great.

She sat down again as James strode over to the sink and filled the kettle with water, before plugging in the electric cord and turning the switch on.

He sat down on the chair next to her at the table.

How did it happen? she asked, her voice soft now, under control.

I don’t know the exact details, but apparently he braked for some purpose, his car slid on the wet road and into an oncoming vehicle.

James didn’t want to explain further. He wanted to spare her the gory details which he had been privy to on the police radio.

Valentine clutched the handkerchief and asked where it had happened.

On Canning Highway, coming from Fremantle, he explained over his shoulder as he went to switch off the whistling kettle. He missed seeing the look of puzzlement on Valentine’s face.

Fremantle? she said to herself; she couldn’t understand why Tony would be coming from Fremantle. Was he working? she asked, as he set a steaming mug of tea in front of her and sat down again.

He took a sip of his drink and looked at her.

I don’t know, I was on my way to work myself when I heard. I came straight here.

Valentine nodded. You worked with Tony?

Yeah, we didn’t always work together on cases, but he was part of the team. He could have added more, explaining that Tony often worked alone, keeping pretty much to himself, but he didn’t elaborate.

*****

Valentine studied the man sat at her kitchen table over the rim of her mug while he spoke. Tony had mentioned James to her, but nothing too detailed. In fact, come to think of it, he had never said a lot about his co-workers. She did remember James had a reputation of being popular with the ladies. That didn’t surprise her; he was tall, dark and handsome. A real classic. He didn’t wear a jacket over the expensive-looking shirt, and she could see he didn’t carry any extra weight around his middle. Her mind flicked back to his vice-like grip when he had grabbed her wrists. He was fit, strong and young. What woman wouldn’t like him?

*****

James felt guilty. He had held a grieving woman, the wife of a dead colleague, in his arms and enjoyed it. How crazy was that? He wanted to protect her and shield her from hurt.

He gave himself a mental kick. She was Tony’s wife. He was miserable about Tony himself. Comforting each other was normal, wasn’t it?

James looked up to see Valentine watching him.

I had better get going, he murmured regretfully. If you need anything, you will let me know, won’t you? Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself? You shouldn’t be alone.

I’m okay, really, she insisted. Thank you for letting me know straight away.

She stood and hugged herself, feeling chilled. She would have liked him to stay. Numbness had taken over her whole body and she couldn’t move.

I’ll see myself out, James said. Greg Turner will probably be in touch.

She nodded, not speaking. She looked so lost, so forlorn.

James took a step towards her and stopped. Call me if you need me, he repeated, turned on his heel and walked down the passageway, out the front door, across the lawn to his car.

He sat in his car, then looked at the front door of the house. Maybe he shouldn’t have left her by herself, but he had to get back to work, explain things, the least being why he was late. He swore out loud, slipped the keys into the ignition and started the car, pulled away swiftly from the kerb, and headed into town.

*****

Valentine stayed transfixed, listening to James walk down the passageway and close the front door. She felt so alone, not that that was a new feeling, just emphasised by the departure of her recent visitor. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there before the enormity of what had happened to her husband hit her. She sat down again. Lord, what a mess. The hardest thing would be telling the kids. Blair would be home from school at three thirty, Carolyn not until after five, she had a late lecture.

Valentine put her head in her hands. Tony, how could you do this to me? she asked the empty room. They had been married almost nineteen years. She couldn’t call her marriage happy, but they had stayed together, virtually leading their own lives. He had spent more time away than at home, but Valentine had accepted that. It was what she had expected, being married to a policeman: odd hours, shift work, not knowing when he would be called away. And now this.

How dare he leave her? She was angry at him for leaving all this mess to her to sort out. It was always her responsibility, had been from the moment they married. Carolyn had been born in the first year of their marriage, and Blair four years later. Valentine had raised them almost single-handedly. Oh, Tony had provided the finance, but no practical help, no moral support. She had been left to do everything, now once again it was up to her, again!

Valentine felt her anger building, the numbness leaving her as years of frustration and pent-up emotions came to the surface. Hitting the table with her hands and screaming made her feel better until her hands started to throb. She stopped and started to cry again, the tears welling in her eyes and running unchecked down her face.

She used James’ handkerchief to mop her face once the outburst was over. Finally, with her emotions once more under control, Valentine found herself a pen and some paper, and shakily started making a list.

*****

As James stepped through the door of the squad room Bryan Taylor, his sergeant, looked up from behind his desk and then stood.

James. Are you okay? he asked, concern on his face.

Yeah. I’ve just been to see Tony’s wife. I was on my way in when I heard the news. I phoned in but you weren’t here, so I went to see her before she heard it on the news.

That’s okay, commiserated Bryan. How’s his wife taking it?

James shrugged. About what you would expect. Have you met her, Bryan? he asked.

Bryan shook his head. No, I don’t think anyone has, except Greg, he said, referring to his superior.

Does the Boss know about Tony?

Yes, I’ve just had a word with him. He’s going around to see Valentine shortly. He looked at James and hesitated. Is there anyone else we need to let know about Tony, apart from his family?

James frowned slightly. I don’t think so, why do you ask?

Oh, no reason, Bryan replied, looking past James to Vanessa, one of his other detectives who was working at her desk. His eyes flicked back to James, studying him silently for a few seconds. Come with me, he directed, heading off in the direction of the interview rooms.

Strolling into one of the empty rooms, Bryan perched on the edge of the desk. Look James, both Vanessa and Kerry are pretty upset over Tony’s death, after all we all worked as a team, a pretty close knit one at that. So, what I’m going to say to you may seem out of line under the circumstances. When I asked you about anyone else in Tony’s life, I meant a girlfriend. I got the impression he was seeing someone. He never said anything to me but, well, you can’t work closely with people without getting to know certain things. So, have you any idea who it might be?

James shook his head. No, I kinda thought the same as you. But nothing definite. I know he left me a phone number to ring one day if I needed him for something, but that was ages ago. I doubt whether the number is still around anywhere, either. Do you think it was someone on The Force?

Who knows? responded Bryan. No, I don’t think so. I might be barking up the wrong tree all together. I don’t want to mention this to either Kerry or Vanessa, or the Boss. Let’s just keep our suspicions to ourselves. Bryan clapped James on the shoulder. C’mon, time to try to get things sorted.

James followed Bryan out of the room and returned to the squad room.

Joining Vanessa and Kerry, James answered their concerns over him.

I’m fine. It’s Tony’s wife that needs support the most, and his kids. Do either of you know Valentine at all? he asked, noticing both girls had red eyes and noses from crying.

No, I’ve never met her, answered Vanessa. I thought she would be at Bryan and Terri’s wedding, but she wasn’t. Tony kept his private life private and even when we had a get-together, he was by himself.

Maybe she was unsociable, offered Kerry.

I met her this morning, James responded. She is really nice. I guess I was surprised, not really what I expected.

Vanessa gave him a long look. We’ve got things to do, guys. I suppose we should get on with them. Bryan said he’d formally identify Tony at the morgue. Let’s get everything else we can do, done.

James nodded. He watched Bryan and Greg talking together, then Greg left and James strolled over to Bryan. You’re going to the morgue?

Yeah, right now, get it over and done with. Greg has gone to see Valentine; discuss the funeral with her. The Force will organise it, one thing she won’t have to worry about. I’ll see you when I get back, and he left, taking his keys off his desk on the way.

Okay, James agreed. He sat down at his desk. It was going to be strange without Tony. His thoughts led him to Valentine. She didn’t deserve this heartache. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Things were sure going to be different around here.

CHAPTER TWO

After finishing her list of things to be done, Valentine made a phone call to Tony’s sister, letting her know of the accident. Tony’s parents were both dead, his sister the only other relative that she knew of.

Valentine’s own parents had split up when she was ten, her father only contacting her occasionally over the years, her mother remarrying.

She phoned her mother and told her the news, explaining that she didn’t need any company; she had things to do. Her mother