Dark Blue (South Island PD Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

could see her pulse jumping in the hollow of her slender neck, and her hands were shaking. She was terrified. As she opened her mouth to speak, she shrank in on herself as if she were bracing for a blow.
    “Greg, I—” Her voice was hoarse, probably from crying. If it’d been from being strangled, there would’ve been marks on her neck.
    There were none – Jackson had looked immediately.
    “Tell him there’s not a goddamn problem!”
    “I’m sorry. I can’t live like this anymore. I—”
    “Cut the crap, Kate! You like having a roof over your head? You don’t lie to the fucking cops. You don’t mess around with me like this.”
    Sanders’ entire face was red. Jackson took advantage of the other man’s distraction, moving in close enough to smell the stale tang of whiskey. He was hungover, maybe even still intoxicated.
    A high-pitched cry echoed from down the hall, the reedy wail of a newborn.
    Jackson tensed, his heart slamming against his ribs as disgust settled over him, thick as molasses.
    Kate turned immediately, taking half a step backward. Now, she looked back and forth between Jackson and the hallway, where the baby must’ve been sleeping before Sanders’ yelling had woken it.
    “Is anyone hurt?” Jackson asked. “The baby, or any other kids?”
    Kate shook her head, then dropped her gaze. “There are no other kids. It’s just us.”
    It was something to be grateful for, but it wasn’t enough. How long did that baby have before its father started beating on it too?
    It’d happen, of that Jackson was certain. Unless someone put an end to this before it reached that point.
    “Tell me what happened,” he said, watching Sanders and his wife at the same time.
    “I told you, nothing fucking happened.” Sanders glared at him as if he were the densest idiot on Earth.
    Jackson ignored him.
    Kate’s voice was so low it could barely be heard over the baby’s crying. “He got mad and hit me.”
    She kept her gaze down and turned her palms up, as if there was nothing more to say.
    “With his fist?”
    She nodded, moisture making the red, puffy skin below her eyes shine.
    “How many times?”
    She held up two fingers. “My stomach. It … it wasn’t the first time.”
    Sanders snorted. “You don’t actually believe this shit, do you Calder?”
    He met Sanders’ gaze and saw the hatred there.
    “She’s pissed at me. Who the fuck knows why? You know how women are – always bitching about something.”
    Kate flinched and shrank in on herself even further. She didn’t look pissed, just scared.
    “I don’t hear her giving you a hard time about anything.” Jackson made a real effort to keep his voice level, as if he were talking to a run-of-the-mill loser instead of a sworn officer whose badge was probably resting on his dresser.
    Sanders’ face went a deeper shade of red. “I didn’t touch her. You wanna know why she’s so upset, ask her about her damned boyfriend. Maybe he hits her, or maybe she’s pissed that she has to see my face when she gets home from their little dates – I don’t fucking know.”
    Sanders’ story changed as quickly as the color of his face, which was bordering on purple now.
    Kate flinched again. “I don’t have a boyfriend , Greg! How many times do I—”
    “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up, Kate.”
    The newborn’s screaming reached a higher pitch, and Jackson half expected the neighborhood dogs to start howling.
    “I have to feed the baby,” Kate said, taking another step backward. Tears were streaming freely down her face, though she didn’t sob. She’d had plenty of practice weathering pain in silence, Jackson was sure.
    “He hit you, and you want to press charges,” Jackson summarized before she could walk away.
    “Yes.” She was trembling.
    “You heard her, Sanders. Come on.”
    He’d made his decision silently, as Kate had cried and her husband had raged. Her silent fear stood in stark contrast to Sanders’ venom, and Jackson recognized