Free Blood Sport by J.D. Nixon

given us a couple of uniforms to take over until I get back here again about six tomorrow morning.”
    I was pissed off. “Do you really think that’s necessary, Sarge? Because I don’t!”
    “Tessie, he shot you this morning and then he rang you to threaten you again. Yeah, I think it’s necessary.”
    “It’s humiliating to have other cops looking after me. I can look after myself.”
    “Nobody doubts that for a second, but you’re in a weakened state at the moment. You need to sleep and a fugitive has made direct threats against you. It’s the sensible thing to do.”
    I deflated instantly, not having the energy to continue arguing. “Okay, Sarge,” I said quietly. I would feel better knowing someone was close by – knowing that he was close by, if I was going to be honest with myself. If I couldn’t have Jake around then the Sarge was my next choice easily. I wasn’t sure about other cops though.
    He stared at me. “God Tess, I know you’ve been knocked around badly when you agree to something that easily.”
    I shot him an unimpressed glance and he winked at me, settling back onto the chair.
    We both took some time to attend to our missed phone calls and texts. When I turned my phone back on I had four voicemail messages from Red. I handed over my phone to the Sarge and let him listen to them for me. His face darkened with increasing anger as he listened, before handing my phone back.
    “Don’t delete them because they’re evidence, but don’t listen to them either. He’s being deliberately obscene and provocative. You don’t need to hear that rubbish. We can transcribe them at the station tomorrow.”
    I nodded and rang Dad to assure him I was still alive and kicking. He promised me that his girlfriend, Adele, would stay with him for the night. As he was in a wheelchair, I always worried if he had to spend a night alone for whatever reason, in case something happened to him. Then I rang a few of my friends who’d left anxious messages. I saved the hardest for last – Abe.
    Abe was the owner of Little Town’s only pub, The Flying Pigs, and had been my first (and only) boyfriend in high school. His beautiful French-born wife, Marcelle, had been murdered three years ago, leaving him with the sole care of their little ten-year-old daughter, Toni, as well as the guardianship of his sixteen-year-old stepsister, Romi. Abe was a great guy – six feet tall, massive muscles, shaved head, liquid brown eyes and a romantic heart. He’d recently found love again with my friend Jenny, a probationary cop from Big Town. They’d been going out for over three months now and seemed happy together, even though they lived ninety minutes drive apart. Before Jenny, Abe had been very keen on me so I was glad he’d found someone else to focus his attention on. Jake hadn’t appreciated the extra male interest, although Abe and I remained close friends.
    “Sweetness,” Abe complained. “If you ever need a jogging companion, give me a ring. I don’t want you out on your own again. Especially while Red Bycraft’s on the loose.”
    “Abe! I’m not ever going to ring you, okay? You stay up so late closing up the pub that there’s just no way I’m going to ring you at five-thirty in the morning to ask you to get up to go jogging with me.” He sighed impatiently and I softened my tone. “You know that I’ll ring you though, without any hesitation, if I’m in danger or need help.” That seemed to mollify him. He was a guy who liked to help.
    The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully. The Sarge bought me a few magazines to read as I laid in bed, while he perused a financial newspaper.
    “What are you reading that for? It looks boring,” I asked him, flipping through pages and pages of mindless celebrity gossip, not finding anything I wanted to spend more than a few seconds on. I didn’t even know who half of these so-called ‘celebrities’ were.
    “I like to keep an eye on my investments.”
    “You have