direction to travel whereas braking will give you scuffing in the same direction as travel.
‘Gouge marks, like this…’ Hawk pointed to the crescent shape carved into tarmac ‘…indicate the point of contact during a vehicle rollover. The mark occurs as the wheel rim hits the road. In this one—’ the crescent mark had a perfect circle close by ‘—the circle has been made by the central hub of the wheel during the final rollover.’
The next picture looked as though someone had emptied a rubbish container along a stretch of road. Papers, beer cans, broken glass, items of clothing and children’s toys were strewn over a surprisingly large area.
‘Debris scatter indicates the direction of travel of a vehicle and, potentially, its speed,’ Hawk told them.
He reached into a cardboard carton at his feet a few minutes later. The presentation was going smoothly and he was looking forward to finishing. He really wasn’t in the mood for liaison duties and that in itself was annoying. This kind of job had been a favourite when he and Cam had made it a joint effort. They could kick back and enjoy a semi-social occasion with their colleagues from complementary emergency services. There’d be jokes and laughter and maybe a beer or two at a local pub afterwards. If Laura had been scowling suspiciously at Cam he would have charmed her into appreciation pretty fast and it would have given the partners a moment of shared amusement later.
But those days were gone. As far as Hawk was concerned he was going solo now. He might be about to have a new partner foisted on him but that didn’t change anything. Cam was irreplaceable. They had worked—and played—as two halves of a whole. No one was going to step into that position easily. The notion that a female officer could replace what he’d had with Cam was about as likely as hell freezing over.
The item Hawk was now handing out to the group was an example of the kind of evidence they collected from the vehicles involved in a serious crash.
‘Look at the speedometer,’ he instructed. ‘Sometimes, with a high-energy impact, the speedo will become locked at the speed at which the vehicle was travelling. This one didn’t but if you look closely you might notice something.’
The dial was being carefully scrutinised by none other than Laura. ‘There’s a little mark,’ she observed. ‘At 190 kph.’
Hawk nodded. ‘A needle tap,’ he confirmed. ‘And another accurate indication of the vehicle’s speed.’
A collective whistle came from the group.
‘Didn’t come from your car, did it, Cliff?’ a fire officer called. ‘That time we were at the pub and you realised you’d forgotten your wedding anniversary and had three minutes to get home?’
‘Nah.’ Cliff shook his head ruefully. ‘I was late, man. Took me a month to get out of the dog box.’
‘And another week to get back in.’ A tall, blond fireman, who looked like an ex-surfer, was grinning broadly. ‘That’s marriage for you.’
Hawk joined in the laughter despite, or perhaps because of, Laura’s faintly disapproving expression. He agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly, anyway. Not that he had anything against female companionship. He never left too long a gap between his relationships, but he had it all worked out now and he knew precisely when it was time to call it quits. The first hint that the relationship was interfering with his own life or work was an alarm bell he never ignored.
Why the hell hadn’t Cam recognised those signals? They’d talked about it often enough. They’d watched their friends and colleagues move in and out of serious relationships. The fact that they’d both been burnt in the past had made them an ideal team to help pick up the emotional pieces when it all went to custard—as it invariably did. They had congratulated themselves on keeping their own lives in order in that department. They’d had it all. Great careers, a partnership that had only increased in strength over the years they had been together, an ability to attract female companionship whenever they’d felt the need and, more importantly, the wisdom to hear those alarm bells and act on them.
Hawk had tried to warn him that time he’d called off a night at the rifle range to take Cassie out.
‘She’s interfering, mate,’ he’d said sadly. ‘If you don’t watch out you’ll be up to your eyeballs in nappies and mortgages.’
And Cam had laughed. ‘Just wait.’ He’d grinned. ‘One of these days you’ll fall in love again and then you’ll change your tune.’
‘You’ve been “in love” before, too. You know as well as I do that it never lasts.’
‘This is different,’ Cam had insisted. ‘This is the real thing, Hawk.’
As if. Hawk had learnt the hard way that falling in love was an illusion. Just out-of-control hormones, and Hawk never let himself lose control of anything to that extent any more. Hadn’t done for years now. No. The hormones wore off and there you were, saddled with responsibilities that changed your life. They ruined spontaneity, kept you poor and made you settle for security instead of excitement.
He’d seen people cut their careers off at the knees in order to stay put and cruise. Their energy got sucked into dealing with those responsibilities and often it wasn’t until they escaped that ambition resurfaced. They got distracted, slowed down and occasionally even broken. It wasn’t going to happen to Owen Hawkins.
Not in a million years.
‘Take a look at these bulbs.’ Hawk pulled another item from the box and stepped towards the fire officers as the laughter faded. ‘When a light’s on and the filament is hot at point of impact, you’ll get that kind of distortion. Great physical evidence.’
The tall, blond fireman was still smiling as he reached out to take the bulb. A corner of Hawk’s mouth curved slightly. He could bet the fireman wasn’t married. He looked far too happy. And Hawk hadn’t missed the way Laura’s gaze had veered at the sound of his laughter. She did have a lovely smile and she looked…homely was the best word Hawk could come up with. Comfortable, maybe. Honest, anyway. She wasn’t the type to adopt a flashy image and pretend she wanted nothing more than a good time, only to start sinking emotional claws into her male companion. Manipulating unsuspecting guys into losing control and then taking over their lives and futures.
‘The position of the switches must be important.’
‘Sorry?’ Hawk was jerked back from the now familiar, but definitely unfair, line of thought. He couldn’t blame Cassie. It had been Cam’s choice and he had jumped more than willingly.
‘For the lights and so forth,’ the fire officer expanded. ‘We should keep that in mind when we’re crawling around inside cars. We probably turn things off by leaning on them without even noticing.’
‘You don’t even have to lean to turn things off, Stick,’ someone quipped. ‘Isn’t that right, Laura?’
Laura laughed but flushed slightly.
‘Stick?’ Hawk raised an eyebrow at the solid figure now handling the row of light bulbs mounted on the narrow wooden board.
‘He got hit with an ugly one,’ his companion explained.
‘Oh.’ Had Laura rejected an advance, maybe? Not that he was remotely interested but at least a relationship between people working from the same base was reasonable. Hell, even living in the same country seemed reasonable now. If Cam had to allow his brains to get addled by a woman to that extent, why did he have to choose one that lived on the other side of the world? And why didn’t she move permanently to New Zealand instead of expecting Cam to follow her home to the States like some lovesick puppy?
Hawk knew why. It was all part of the manipulation that came so naturally to the female of the species. It wasn’t evil. They probably didn’t even know they were doing it half the time, but the effect was the same. It was a take-over bid. The undermining of a man’s independence and self-esteem. They got you right where they wanted you…and then what? ‘Sorry, buddy, but I’ve