Chapter 1

Constable Joanna Parrish...

’How Does Your Garden Grow...?’

Joanna Louise Parrish and Savannah ‘The Cunt’ Hamilton-Smythe

The dirt track ended in a remote clearing.

Twenty kilometres or so, from the Mount Thomas Police Station. Miles from anywhere it seemed

Joanna had driven slowly along the rough track to the battered old farmhouse. Fearing the worst, it, had taken Constable Joanna Parrish almost as long to traverse the two kilometres from the property’s front gate, as it had to drive from the outskirts of Mount Thomas to the turnoff. But, here was she was,

Joanna Louise Parrish breathed a sigh of relief. She suspected that her Holden ‘Commodore’ police car had probably sustained some damage. Not least, several scratches to its’ white paintwork from the banksias that had crowded the track she had just travelled. She thought it a miracle, that she hadn’t torn the sump out of the vehicle as well.

The policewoman switched her ignition off.

Hesitating, she gazed at the farmhouse for a minute or two. Nothing appeared to stir. It was silent.

“Looks quiet enough...?” Joanna observed. There was no sign of anybody about.

A few chickens continued to scratch about the two stairs that led to front door. The long veranda that ran the length of the front of the weatherboard building hid much of the front of the lone farmhouse.

Immediately in front of her vehicle, there was a pile of what appeared to be firewood, an old rusty plough and an ancient Toyota. Joanna sat back...

“Crime it seems,” she observed, “Doesn’t necessarily pay, does it, Constable Parrish?”

Dust swirled about the now stationary Holden ‘Commodore’ – Joanna glanced down at the dossier on the front passenger’s seat beside her. Raising bother hands from where they rested on the steering wheel, she tugged at her uniform shirt’s collar. The dust began to settle.

Joanna opened her car door and got out...

“So...?”

Pausing, she glanced back across the roof of her police car.

Joanna left the dossier on the passenger’s seat with her policewoman’s issue handbag and uniform hat. She gazed back along the dirt road, intrigued by the way in which the dust began to settle. It was the first time, Constable Joanna Parrish had worked alone. Joanna Louise Parrish had only arrived at the Mount Thomas Police Station a week earlier – this was something new,

“Here goes nothing huh...?”

She would have to make sure that there was nobody at home.

Lingering a little longer by her Holden ‘Commodore’ sedan, she adjusted her uniform shirt’s collar – around her neck and tucked neatly beneath her collar, Joanna wore a lanyard to which her Victoria Police ID badge was attached. She also wore a nametag pinned to her shirt, proclaiming ‘Joanna Parrish – Constable’...

“This is probably a waste of time?”

“Well now...?” she heard a female voice say. Taken aback, Joanna turned,

“I don’t get many visitors...?” continued the voice – Joanna looked for who was speaking,

“What do you want...?”

Joanna reached up to shade her eyes from the late afternoon sun.

The sun hung low above the western horizon. And, the policewoman couldn’t see who was speaking at first,

“Hello...?”

Shading her eyes with her right hand, she could see somebody by the front door...

“Hello there?” Joanna greeted.

.A woman sat on an old lounge chair on the veranda by the open front door to the farmhouse,

“My name’s Joanna...” continued the policewoman as the weather-beaten woman continued smoking her cigarette,

“Constable Joanna Parrish that is – I’m looking for Miss Savannah Hamilton-Smythe?”

Joanna Louise Parrish had been surprised. She hadn’t seen the woman until she’d spoken to her,

“So...?” hissed the suntanned woman with complete indifference.

Hesitating, Joanna brushed a few loose strands of hair from her eyes with the back of her hand.

Constable Joanna Parrish guessed she was thirty...?

“Miss Savannah...?”

Joanna closed her car door,

“Miss Savannah Hamilton-Smythe?”

The woman stood up. Joanna walked slowly towards the farmhouse,

“Y-Yes...?”

The twenty-five year lf brunette policewoman studied the woman.

She wore a short-sleeved white shirt – the shirt knotted ‘halter style’ about her waist. Burgundy-tinted hair. An old faded and tattered pair of denim shorts. Barefoot. Not quite was Constable Joanna Parrish had expected...?

“Miss Savannah Hamilton-Smythe?”

The woman nodded,

“Yeah...” she hissed with a note of contempt.

“That’s me...?” Savannah added. Joanna approached – Savannah’s piecing green eyes fixed on the policewoman,

“I’m here to investigate reports of a barking dog...” explained Joanna as she walked up to the front steps...

“We had a complaint made earlier at the station, Miss Hamilton-Smythe?”

“What...?” exclaimed Savannah.

Beside her, an elderly blue heeler continued her siesta quite unconcerned.

Savannah stubbed her butt against the veranda railing, extinguishing it. She smiled with cynical amusement...

“A barking dog...?” she queried. Joanna nodded.

“You got to be joking, Joanna?” suggested Savannah...

“You got a fuckin’ warrant then, Joanna...?” She asked.

Joanna ignored Savannah’s familiarity and paused at the foot of the stairs.

“Do I need a warrant. Miss Hamilton-Smythe?” the policewoman asked. She could now see that the farmhouse had been renovated – the exterior paintjob had much to be desired, but the building appeared to be in good condition. The garden too, looked tidy and well kept.

“I guess not...” Savannah conceded. Joanna tugged again at the sleeve of her uniform shirt,

“A barking dog huh...?” she now queried. Joanna bit her lip.

It was a lie. She knew it. The alleged ‘complaint’ had been simply a ruse that Sergeanbt Tess Gallagher had suggested...

“My nearest neighbours must be three kilometres away...?”

Of that, Constable Joanna Parrish had no doubt.

“This your only dog...?” Joanna asked, indicating the sleeping cattle dog at Savannah’s feet.

Savannah nodded without speaking...

“Mind if I have a look around, Miss Hamilton-Smythe?” Joanna enquired.

“Savannah...” corrected the woman.

The tone in her voice now suggested almost a casual friendliness,

“S-Savannah...” Joanna acknowledged – Savannah moved closer to the policewoman.

“Would it matter if I did, Joanna...?” she then hissed. The contempt returning to her tone,

The policewoman shrugged.

“Easier for both of us if I take a quick look around, Savannah...” Joanna suggested.

“Go ahead...” Savannah replied. Joanna noted that she seemed quite apathetic...

“I’ve done nothin’ wrong...?”

“Thanks...” Joanna answered.

“I’m not hiding anythin’...” Savannah added.

Joanna nodded again. She tugged yet again at the sleeve of her pale-blue uniform shirt.

The alleged barking dog was just a cover.

There had been an anonymous report that Savannah was growing cannabis.

Sergeant Tess Gallagher had taken the call. And, Senior Sergeant Tom Croydon had wanted the matter followed up – Tess had detailed Joanna to investigate. The tip off suggested that Savannah Hamilton-Smythe was growing just a few plants...

“I am sorry about this, Savannah...?”

Joanna offered a smile. Her uniform shirt felt as if it were a size too small.

She felt a little uncomfortable – there was something about Savannah that the young policewoman found to be a ‘turn on’...

“Joanna...”

Joanna turned. Savannah now seemed relaxed. She continued smiling at Joanna.

Either she really didn’t have anything to hide from Joanna, or she was just confident the policewoman would not find anything.

“So then, Joanna...?”

“Tom Croydon send you huh...?” Savannah queried.

Joanna shook her head. Savannah stepped down from her front veranda,

“You must be the new girl at Mount Thomas I heard about, Joanna...?”

Joanna nodded.

The woman followed her as she walked towards the side of the farmhouse...

“The former ‘Miss Victoria Police’ eh...?” Savannah queried – Joanna paused.

“Guilty as charged...” the policewoman confirmed. Joanna Louise Parrish had once been a ‘Miss Victoria’ contestant – two years earlier, the former fashion model had been the ‘Poster Girl’ for the Victoria Police too.

“You work for Tess Gallagher?”

“Y-Yes...”

Joanna headed towards the large garden at the back of Savannah’s home.

“Teresa fuckin’ Anne Gallagher huh...?”

Joanna raised an eyebrow.

“She always did have good taste?” Savannah observed – Joanna hesitated again.

The policewoman opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. Savannah knew Tess?

“So, you’re one of Tess Gallagher’s fuckin’ harem...?”

“S-Savannah...?”

“I haven’t seen ‘Dash’ McKinley for a while?” Savannah continued – ‘Probationary’ Constable Deirdre ‘;Dash’ McKinley had only just tended her resignation,

“Maggie Doyle...?

Senior Constable Maggie Doyle had been attending the Mount Thomas Magistrates Court earlier,

“Who would’ve thought...?” Savannah laughed.

She’d seen a poster of Constable Joanna Parrish as the previous year’s ‘Miss Victoria Police’ and found it a little surreal to have the attractive brunette as an unexpected visitor to her secluded farmhouse.

“Policewomen in Mount Thomas?”

“There’s four policewomen now, Savannah...” Joanna replied.

Standing at the front corner of Savannah’s farmhouse, she gazed across the shimmering grass fields towards the hills in the distance.

Deirdre’s vacancy at the Mount Thomas ‘Uniform Branch’ now taken by Joanna.

Sergeant Tess Gallagher and Senior Constable Robyn Taylor. Senior Constable Maggie Doyle...

“I hope,” Joanna asked, “That’s not going to be a problem, Savannah?”

Savannah took a gentle hold of the policewoman’s arm. Joanna shuddered.

But, she did nothing to stop the thirty year as Savannah tightened her hold...

“Is it my uniform, Savannah – is it because I’m a policewoman, Miss Hamilton-Smythe?”