Page 10 of Lawless
Whoever it was knocked briefly on the door, and then opened it.
“Oh, hey, Natty,” Eddie said in a bright, friendly tone, followed up by something I didn’t hear at all, because my brain went suddenly offline. Just crashed totally. Nothing but static.
Because the guy standing in the doorway was young and slender, wearing a black T-shirt that clung to the planes of his chest, and worn jeans that hugged his mile-long legs. He had golden hair that hung in careless waves to his shoulder, like some sort of angel in a Renaissance painting, and hazel eyes, and flawless sun-kissed skin. He was, without question, the hottest guy I’d ever seen, and it made no sense that he was here instead of strutting down a catwalk in Milan, where he clearly belonged. He had to be the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen in my life, and he was looking right at me.
I blinked, and thankfully my brain fired up again, bellows wheezing and creaking somewhere in the back of my skull. I plastered on my smile. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Dominic Miller. I’m the new police officer. How can I help you?”
Chapter 4
NATTY
Button John was going to be jealous as fuck when I told him I’d talked to the new copper before he did. He was also going to tell me I was an idiot for offering to work for the guy, because nobody on Dauntless liked coppers and when Red Joe Nesmith had said we were getting one, nobody had been happy about it. We had our own way of doing things on Dauntless.
I walked around to Short Clarry’s old house, which looked the same as always except for the blue “Police” sign that was now hanging on the front door, and knocked.
The last copper we’d had on Dauntless, Senior Constable Chambers, had been tall and skinny like a stick insect. Bald like one too. He’d been in his late forties, probably. He’d only come over from the mainland every couple of weeks. To begin with, he’d tried to talk to people, but he gave up after a while and started to bring his camera gear instead. Me and Button John had once followed him around all day, because we hadn’t had anything better to do, and we’d spent hours lying on our bellies on the bluff above Seal Beach, squinting down at the copper while he took photographs of the fur seals.
Most boring fucking day ever.
When this copper came to the door, he wasn’t old and he didn’t look like an insect. He looked like he was in his twenties. He had dark hair that was longer on top than on the sides, and the bit on top was gelled up and then smoothed back. He had thick, expressive brows, and brown eyes. He was clean-shaven, and had an olive complexion you didn’t see very often on Dauntless Island. There were a couple of freckles on his cheeks, and a mole on the left side of his neck, just above the collar of his blue shirt.
“Hi,” he said, raising his eyebrows in a way that made his expression look open and welcoming. “I’m Dominic Miller. I’m the new police officer. How can I help you?”
I wasn’t expecting someone young. Or someone handsome.
“Natty Harper,” I said, lifting my chin. “I’ll clear your yard out for two hundred dollars, and fifty a week after that to keep it neat.”
From behind the copper’s shoulder, Eddie Hawthorne waved at me.
I liked Eddie, even though he was an outsider. He’d arrived on the island when I was still at school. Then he’d come back, even after Short Clarry tried to murder him. He was Red Joe’s boyfriend and lived up at the lighthouse with him. Red Joe had been best friends with Nipper Will—growing up, it was like I’d had two big brothers instead of just one—but he hadn’t been over to our place in a while. Now that Will had the boat and Red Joe was the mayor, neither of them had much time to just hang out.
“Um,” said the copper.
“Take it or leave it,” I said. “But nobody else will offer to do it for you.”
The copper shot a look at Eddie, and Eddie wrinkled his nose and nodded.
“Yeah, okay,” the copper said. “That sounds good. When can you start?”
“Later,” I said. I needed to grab some tools from Big Johnny’s shed, but he wouldn’t miss them. Most of the ones I’d seen yesterday were old and rusty as fuck, and clearly hadn’t seen sunlight for years. “I’ll come back then.”
“It was nice to meet you!” he yelled after me as I hurried back onto the road, and I heard Eddie laughing.
I hoped Eddie wouldn’t tell anyone I’d be working for the copper.
He’d told me his name—Dominic Miller—but I didn’t want to think of him by his name. Bad enough that he was young and good looking and not what I’d expected at all. He was a copper.
I headed along the waterfront, past the statue of Josiah Nesmith, and turned left after the tourist information centre. I went to Mavis’s shop and bought a Coke and some salt and vinegar chips. Mavis watched me count out my money in twenty cent pieces, her mouth pinched up like a cat’s bum. At least this time next week I’d have some decent cash, instead of resorting to smashing the piggy bank I’d had since I was a little kid.
I went by Button John’s place, and Addy said Button John was out already. She told me to kick him up the arse and send him home when I found him, because he’d said two weeks ago that he’d build a new frame for the beans before they needed planting out, and he’d done fuck all yet.
I lied and said I would, and Addy rolled her eyes at me.
I found Button John at the old radar house. It was one of the few buildings in the village that wasn’t made of sandstone bricks. It had been built by the Americans during the war, and it was a demountable wooden building with a tin roof that—full credit to the US military—hadn’t fallen down in the seventy-odd years it’d been here. The actual radar station, which was a concrete bunker with a curved roof like an aircraft hanger, was about halfway up the hill behind the house, and had been overtaken years ago by nettle trees.
“Hey,” I said when I found him sitting on the floor with his guitar. He couldn’t play it for shit, but that didn’t stop him from trying. “Addy said you’re supposed to be building a frame for your beans.”
Button John made a sound in the back of his throat like a dog trying to throw up. “She’s so bossy.” He wrinkled his nose. “How’s Will?”
