The Body Thief by Chris Taylor Read Free Book Online

could catch his breath. “This is hard work, Dad.”
    His father chuckled and scratched at the
hank of white hair that hung over his eyes. “You’re going soft,
lad. It must be all that time you spend sitting on your ass.”
    Rohan smiled and took the jibe in the spirit
it was intended. He didn’t need to be told how proud Bill Coleridge
was of his oldest son. Rohan only had to walk into his father’s den
and see the evidence of his career since he first entered the
police academy at the ripe old age of eighteen, to know how his
father felt.
    “I don’t know how you do this every winter,”
Rohan said. Choosing another log from the wood heap, he lifted the
ax again. With a crack that sounded like gunfire, he brought the
blade down hard.
    “I don’t work as rigorously as you do, son.
I only cut what we need for the night. You’ve been at it for an
hour. No wonder you’ve worked up a sweat.”
    “It’s the least I can do after you invited
me to dinner. I can smell Mom’s chicken pot pie from here. With a
serving of her famous mashed potato and fresh garden peas on the
side, I could die a happy man.”
    “You need to find yourself a good woman,
Rohan. One who knows how to cook.”
    “I’m not sure that kind of woman exists
anymore, Dad. They’re all too busy with their careers to spend time
getting up close and personal with the oven.”
    “Yeah, I’m afraid you’re right. I only have
to look at your younger sisters to see that. Where did your mother
and I go wrong?” he asked in mock dismay, shaking his head.
    “Lucky Mom insisted on showing us the
basics. At least we can all cook bacon and eggs and I do a mean
barbeque. I have you to thank for that.”
    He shot his father a grin and turned back
toward the woodpile. Bringing the ax up over his shoulder, he drove
it once again into the log. This time, it split open and he bent
down and added the pieces to the growing pile.
    “A couple more should do it,” his father
commented. “It should see us through to warmer weather. Thanks for
that, son. It’s much appreciated.”
    “No problem, Dad. I’m glad I can help out. I
don’t get home as often as I want to. It’s nice to be able to do
something for you and Mom, when I can.”
    “Too bad you moved closer to the city. It’s
a fair commute for you to come out to Cronulla now.”
    “Yeah, that’s the down side, but I’m so much
closer to work and I spend a hell of a lot more hours there, let me
assure you. Mostly sitting on my ass,” he teased.
    “They don’t give officers bravery medals for
sitting around, Rohan.”
    Rohan looked at him in surprise.
    “It was all over the news.”
    “Of course.” Rohan accepted the comment
quietly.
    “I saw it on the television. You pulled that
baby out of the car only moments before that tanker blew sky high.
Someone uploaded a video to YouTube. I lost count of the number of
times I watched it. You could have been killed, son.”
    Rohan shrugged and ducked his head,
uncomfortable with the praise. He’d done what had to be done. He’d
attended the accident in the course of his job. There was nothing
special about him or his so-called courageous actions in those
circumstances and he couldn’t forget how, despite his mammoth
efforts, the baby’s parents hadn’t survived.
    Forcing the sad memory aside, he grimaced,
stood another log on its end and brought the ax down hard. A couple
more swings and the log split in half and the pieces joined the
others in the laden wheelbarrow.
    “Did they ever find out what caused the
accident?”
    Rohan swallowed a sigh and wearily set the
ax aside. “The tanker driver’s blood alcohol level was well over
the legal limit. He should never have been behind the wheel.
Forty-eight years old, he has a wife and three children. He’ll be
doing some serious time.”
    “What happened to the baby?”
    “He was put into the care of relatives. I
guess the courts will sort out that one, too.”
    Throwing the last two pieces of