Free Double Take by Kendall Talbot Page A

control.”
    â€œI’m sure she is.”
    The way he said it made Candice wonder if there was something else Jack hadn’t mentioned. But he didn’t say any more. Soon he stood up and started clearing the dishes off the table. Candice stood as well, but she did it too quickly and before she knew it she was on the floor. When she opened her eyes it was like looking at the world through clear jelly.
    She felt herself being lifted up and heard the panic in Jack’s voice. She wanted to say she was okay, but her tongue wouldn’t move. Even drawing a breath was a struggle. Aware that she was only seconds away from passing out, she squeezed onto Jack’s leg. She knew he would be scrambling with her medication kit. The syringe was the last thing she saw before everything went black.

Chapter 8
    T he police station was an old workers’ cottage in the historic suburb of Coorparoo. The quiet neighbourhood had developed around the small building and, other than the fluoro police sign displayed at the front, it resembled nearly every other house in the street. The building looked every bit its age with the tin roof covered in brown rust stains, the paint on the weatherboards peeling and the wheelchair ramp leading up to the front door needing attention. Gemma had never been in a police station before and was unsure what to expect. As she went through the front door, a bell sounded somewhere in the back of the building.
    An elderly woman was seated on one of the untreated wooden benches in the waiting room staring at a dog-eared copy of the Brisbane Star . Gemma smelt lingering odours of talcum powder and mothballs. The woman looked up with drooping, uninterested eyes, and she seemed to see straight through her as she twirled a thread of white beads in her papery, frail hand. Gemma walked to the front counter and waited for assistance. Nobody was around, and just as she began to wonder if there was a button she should have pressed, a tall yet rotund police officer waddled up to the counter.
    â€œMorning, how may I help you?” His name badge identified him as Detective Bryant. He had remnants of food on his lower lip.
    Gemma licked her lip in reflex. “I’d like to report a crime.”
    â€œWhat’s the nature of the crime, madam?”
    â€œWell, it hasn’t actually been committed yet.”
    â€œI see.” His two bushy eyebrows drew together. “How do you know it’s going to happen?”
    â€œMy boyfriend’s children overheard some people talking about robbing a bank.”
    â€œI see. How old are these children?”
    â€œThey’re twelve and fourteen, but they—”
    â€œMadam,” he interrupted, “sometimes children tend to exaggerate things.”
    â€œI’m pretty sure the boys aren’t making this…” But something made Gemma pause and glance over her shoulder. The frail old woman was now staring at her hands as if they were completely fascinating. Gemma thought of the tape in her bag, and her promise to Murray, and how thrilling the last couple of days had been. She made a snap decision. “You know what? You’re probably right.” She could drag this robbery excitement out for a few more days. What harm could it do? The Melbourne Cup race was still eleven days away. Heaps of time for a little more fun. “Sorry to bother you.” She collected her bag and stepped back from the counter.
    â€œNo bother at all. Have a good day.” He seemed relieved she was leaving.
    Gemma quickly exited the station, grappling with her thoughts.
    By the time she arrived home, she knew what she was going to do. And she knew exactly how she was going to convince Murray to help her. Fortunately for her, Trent and Max were at a sleepover tonight so she had Murray all to herself. Exactly how she liked him. When they had time alone it was good. Better than good, it was great. They talked and laughed and thought about the