Retribution

By Sarah Barrie

Once a vigilante, now a cop ... but Lexi Winter still plays by her own rules. A fast-paced, suspenseful thriller for readers of Candice Fox and Sarah Bailey.

Ace hacker, ex-prostitute, Jack Daniels drinker and part-time vigilante Lexi Winter is now working with the police, with a new enemy in her sights and an old foe on her mind.

Most probationary constables would baulk at chasing a drug dealer into a train tunnel in the dead of night - not Lexi. But when she emerges, injured but alive, to face the wrath of her boss it's clear that while Lexi may now be in uniform, she has as much trouble with authority as ever. Just to prove it, Lexi is quietly using her hacking skills to investigate a notorious drug-dealing Sydney crime family with links to her old prey, the paedophile Damon Vaughn. As her colleague Detective Sergeant Finn Carson investigates a death on a Sydney building site that leads him to the picturesque Wondabyne train station on the Hawkesbury River, Inspector Rachael Langley oversees an enquiry that is becoming ever more complex as multiple lines of investigation seem to interweave. What they don't know is that Lexi is the only one who can unravel them - if only she'll toe the line.

'Phenomenal. Lexi Winter is the gritty hero I didn't know I needed ... I'm now desperate for more' - bestselling Australian author Nicola Moriarty on Unforgiven

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Dec 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781867226482

Sarah Barrie

Sarah Barrie is the author of nine novels, including her bestselling print debut Secrets of Whitewater Creek, the Hunters Ridge trilogy and the Calico Mountain trilogy. In a past life, while gaining degrees in arts, science and education, Sarah worked as a teacher, a vet nurse, a horse trainer and a magazine editor, before deciding she wanted to write novels. About the only thing that has remained constant is her love of all things crime. Her favourite place in the world is the family property, where she writes her stories overlooking mountains crisscrossed with farmland, bordered by the beauty of the Australian bush, and where, at the end of the day, she can spend time with family, friends, a good Irish whiskey and a copy of her next favourite book.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Friday, March 4

Lulled by the gentle movement of the train, Daisy rested her cheek against the cool vinyl seat and stared out the scarred window into the darkness beyond. The carriage was quiet. Three other passengers shared the upper level space with her: a tired-looking fatherly type in a crinkled grey business suit and a couple of teenage Alice Cooper lookalikes more interested in their mobile phones than each other. She fought the temptation to allow her eyes to close. It had been a difficult day, one of many she’d had during the last year, and a bad night’s sleep had left her drained of energy. But she needed to take care of things for her mum, so she’d get through it. That’s just how it was. She yawned widely and stretched. Falling asleep and missing her stop wasn’t an option.

The sharp slap of something hitting the floor brought her back to wakefulness. The middle-aged tradie in the vestibule downstairs picked his phone up off the floor, checked it, then typed something before returning it to a large gym bag at his feet. He crossed and uncrossed his legs before returning his gaze to the lower part of the carriage. He’d been staring in that direction each time Daisy’s eyes had brushed past him.

He swiped an arm across the sheen of perspiration on his brow. It wasn’t cold enough in the carriage to be wearing that heavy drill jacket zipped right under his chin. Whatever. Daisy yawned again, went back to gazing into the night.

The train’s PA system declared the next station was Hawkesbury River. The train stopped and the opening doors blasted cool air into the warm space. They closed. As the train lurched back into motion, a shuffling noise drew her attention back to the vestibule. The tradie had gotten to his feet. He picked up his bag and walked down to the lower level of the carriage, eyes intent.

Daisy’s skin prickled. A second ticked by, two, three, then a muffled sound of distress had her sitting straighter. A glance around showed the other three passengers hadn’t heard. Or didn’t care.

‘No!’ The woman’s voice was tight. More words followed. Rushed, high-pitched. The man’s voice was deeper, quieter. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but then the woman’s loud, ‘I’m not!’ was quickly muffled. By force?

She should check what’s going on. She got up slowly, crept towards the stairs and put her foot on the first step, the second. Her foot had just landed silently on the bottom step when the train’s PA system sprang back to life.

‘Next stop, Wondabyne.’

She scrambled back up the steps. The businessman in the suit gave her a curious look and shifted in his seat, cleared his throat and resettled. A well-built twenty-something in a hoodie and jeans came through from the carriage in front and stood at the doors. His eyes flicked around and down to the carriage’s lower level. Remained bland.

Okay then. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. Daisy relaxed in her seat as the train rocked slightly, following the wind of the creek. Lights from a scattering of boats and a couple of houses across the water were all that competed with those of the station as it came into view.

Wondabyne. The tiny station sat between Mullet Creek, a tributary of the Hawkesbury River, and the steep mountainside of Brisbane Water National Park. There was nothing more here than a few weird sculptures, a caretaker’s cottage, a sandstone mine that rarely operated and a public wharf frequented by the handful of houses across the creek and the odd fisherman. It wasn’t far from here to the busy town of Woy Woy, which was a few short stops away from the city of Gosford, yet Wondabyne gave off all the vibes of being in the middle of nowhere. Especially at night.

As the train crept into the station, her attention was drawn to a rowdy group of drunk, feral-looking campers on the platform who were picking up backpacks and sleeping bags in preparation for boarding. Daisy dragged her own backpack to her lap and checked it was still zipped tight.

‘Doors opening. Please stand clear.’

The doors opened, flooding the carriage with noise from the campers. The guy that had moved into the carriage stepped off to greet them and help with their gear. The guard stepped out and barked orders, attempting to hustle the campers and their gear safely on board.

Gross. The carriage filled with the putrid odour of stale bodies and alcohol. She looked around, caught sight of the tradie in the heavy jacket stepping off the train, the smaller figure of a woman clutched tightly in front of him. She surged to her feet for a better look, but the guy in the business suit had gotten out of his seat and chosen that moment to step past her, blocking her view. ‘Sorry, just going to change carriages,’ the businessman muttered.

She fully understood why. ‘After you,’ she said over the general chaos.

She followed the suit down the steps, only to have the air knocked from her lungs as someone crashed into her from behind. ‘Sorry,’ a young man that smelled like a public toilet slurred.

‘Excuse me,’ she said in return, screwing up her nose as she sidestepped him.

‘This is supposed to be the quiet carriage!’ the suit complained to the guard.

‘Sorry, sir, but it might be easier for you to move than for me to get this lot to shut up.’

The suit scowled then found a gap in the bodies still boarding and headed through the vestibule towards the doors between the carriages. Daisy stepped around two more men, hoping another gap in the fray would open up. She looked through the open doors but could no longer see anyone on the platform. The PA sounded again. Shit. Would everyone get out of her way!

Giving up, she shoved through the bodies and left the stale odour behind. As the doors closed and the train pulled away, she took a deep breath and told herself not to worry. Everything would no doubt turn out to be fine. Before long another difficult day would be over.

CHAPTER TWO

Saturday, March 5

‘Lexi! Wait!’ I hear as I charge into the gaping darkness of Woy Woy railway tunnel.

Nope. I am absolutely not waiting. I can run this little shit down. I know I can. The beam of my torch bounces erratically off the arched brick walls as I leap over one of two sets of steel tracks and smash through loose gravel, doing my best to keep said little shit in sight. My lungs are burning, both from the exertion of the sprint and the musty, stale air.

I should call out again, but I don’t think I can talk and still breathe. My target isn’t listening anyway. He’s completely pumped on whatever he’s taken and is kind of dance-running along the northbound rail line, his spray cans rattling as he haphazardly hits the wall with streaks of the same red and gold paint with which he’d decorated a nearby warehouse wall. I’ve seen the tag—a large gold crystal spearing from a stylised red G—in a few local spots. It’s quite well done, but vandalism is vandalism.

I thought I could run this little shit down. Now I’m not so sure. I desperately need to stop and as he’s showing no signs of slowing, I’m briefly tempted to leave him to it. He’ll have to come back eventually. I’m not sure many trains run through here in the early hours of the morning. A pissed-off corner of my brain is telling me his untimely death via a speeding passenger train wouldn’t be any great loss to society, but I’m not allowed to think like that. Now that I’m Constable Lexi Winter, a paid member of the New South Wales Police Force, albeit a probationary one, I’m supposed to value all life and risk my own to save the little shits of the world so they can live on and, in the case of the two we’re after tonight, keep being little shits.

At least this one, along with the one my partner just caught, might spend some time behind bars. Last week they used some pretty impressive parkour skills to evade capture after beating a cop unconscious for trying to search them. I can safely say they either don’t value or are incapable of higher learning. Because here we are.

The short, sharp warning sound of a train entering the tunnel echoes along the walls. Shit! I stumble to a stop, resting my hands on my knees to drag in air as I contemplate my next move. A small, blinding light bursts into view at the end of the stupidly long tunnel, becomes larger as the train approaches and the engine noise intensifies to a roar. That light illuminates the silhouette of the tagger now hot-stepping it back in my direction. The blast of the train horn sounds again and the squealing of brakes suggests the driver is doing his or her best to slow down, but it’s not a quick process and the stupid little shit is still running down the middle of its same track.

‘Fuck me.’ I ignore my terror and force my jelly-legs back into action. I reach the little shit in a few more strides and yank at his arm, sending him stumbling out of the train’s path and onto the southbound line. Despite the brakes, the passenger train hurtles past us with another ear-splitting blare of the horn. There’s several seconds of wind that could kick your feet out from under you and those images I can now confirm flash before your eyes when you think you’re about to die. Then it’s gone.

My ears are ringing and my legs are unsteady as my heart struggles to return to its normal rhythm. Little shit has scrambled against the tunnel wall, staring at the disappearing train like a kid at a Christmas tree.

‘Did you see that?’ he asks in awe.

‘How the fuck could you possibly think I missed it?’ I snap. I draw in a few more much-needed deep breaths while I put myself back in the right headspace to resume being a police officer. We need to move before the next train tries to kill us.

‘Get on your stomach!’ I say, pushing him backwards onto the ground and rolling him over. I drop my knee into the small of his back and I’m met with little resistance as I pull one hand around his back, then the other, cuffing them together. I pat him down, checking for weapons, and pull a four-inch flick knife from his left pocket. I scramble off him and grab his arm. ‘Get up. You’re under arrest.’

‘For what?’ he whines, sounding about ten years old.

‘You have the right to—’

‘I haven’t done anything wrong!’ He attempts to turn his head to look at me, almost falling over his own feet in the process.

I continue my spiel as he continues his protests, and though his professions of innocence had started out whiny, it’s not long before I hear aggression leaking in.

‘Let’s just get you safely out of here, okay?’ I tell him in a tone reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher. I know how drugs can affect users, have seen many times how quickly addicts can go from chilled out to manic, especially if it’s courtesy of methamphetamine. As I’m pretty sure that’s what this one’s on, I really need to keep him calm and moving back to Rico. I learnt a few self-defence moves at the academy, and I’m sure as hell a lot fitter than I used to be due to the program’s medieval torture routines, but I’ve also seen how unbelievably strong and violent a teen on meth can be and I don’t want to have to face that. ‘Trains are dangerous.’

‘Trains are dangerous,’ he repeats and begins charging ahead so I have to jog-walk to keep a hand on him. Relief floods through me as we reach the exit and I hear Rico calling out.

‘Here!’ I shout and wave the torch around. Once out of the tunnel, I have no problem spotting him jogging towards us, but neither does little shit and it trips a switch in his drug-fogged brain. He knocks into me hard in an attempt to get free.

I lunge at him and we go down in a tangled, squirming mess on the track. There’s a clang. I think it might be him banging his head on the rail, then I’m thrown off. He stumbles, finding it difficult to get his feet underneath himself with his hands cuffed. I grab his ankle and he goes down again, but somehow backwards, on top of me, pressing me painfully into the gravel.

Rico gets hold of him and his weight suddenly lifts. Little shit is yelling, swearing and spitting, then coughing as he’s face-planted into the ground. Rico has him pinned, but it’s taking some effort to keep him down. He looks back at me and I don’t need the illumination of the full light of day to know he’s pissed off.

‘Seriously?’

I sit for a moment to recover then get up slowly and dust myself off. ‘Have you got the other one in the car?’

‘Yeah. Lexi, you were in that tunnel when that train came through!’

‘No kidding.’

‘And you took this one on alone after I told you to wait!’

‘To be fair, I knew you were on your way.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘No. I’m not.’ I’m not injured, but I’m covered in debris from our tussle. I brush at it uselessly. The uniform’s not all that comfortable at the best of times, but now it’s stupidly itchy. I untuck my shirt and shake it in an attempt to dislodge some of the grit and whatever was crawling on me. I can’t see anything much in the dark. ‘I have dirt in places dirt should not go.’

Rico’s scowl almost becomes a satisfied smirk. ‘Serves you right.’

I can’t help but smile back. For a field training officer, Christian Rico is as good as it gets. He’s likeable, considerate and has a sense of humour. At a year over forty, he’s also built like a kind of modern-day Adonis. All six-feet-one of him is tanned muscle and dark good looks, which makes him easy on the eye from my perspective and terrifying to anyone considering taking him on. It’s a win-win, given that during the last couple of months he’s come between me and danger countless times.

‘Get the fuck off me!’ little shit screams as he thrashes around, but Rico keeps him down.

‘Can I taser him?’ I ask, only half joking as I find a piece of gravel in my bra and toss it.

‘Let’s see how we go,’ Rico says, then to his captive, he says, ‘Are you going to cooperate?’

‘Yes! Fuck!’

‘Okay.’ Rico carefully gets him up. ‘But one wrong move and she hits you with fifty thousand volts. Got it?’

‘Where’s Jason!’ the little shit demands, and I do a mental fist pump. The kid has confirmed these are the two I was hoping they were: Jason and Aden Hamill of the very nasty Hamill crime family. Excellent.

‘Back to the car, let’s go,’ Rico orders. I walk slightly behind them in case I really do need that taser, then move ahead as we reach the car to open the door for Rico to secure Aden next to his brother, Jason.

‘This is bullshit!’ Jason complains. ‘We’ve done nothing wrong!’

‘You seriously assaulted a police officer,’ I say, dragging a twig from my hair before raking my fingers through the tangled black mess and twisting it back into a semblance of the obligatory bun.

‘Prove it!’ he demands as I slide into the front passenger seat.

‘We have a witness, don’t worry,’ I tell him.

‘You think that matters, bitch?’ Jason spits. ‘We’re Hamills! You don’t mess with us and get away with it!’

Ha. He didn’t know the half of it.

‘Settle down,’ Rico orders.

‘Not fucking likely! You better let us go or we’ll send someone round to your place to mess you up, how’s that sound?’

‘Like another easy arrest,’ I say, giving my shirt one last flap before doing up my seatbelt.

‘Still uncomfortable?’ Rico asks with a chuckle. ‘I thought you were going to strip off out there.’

‘Only those with breasts would understand. I’m going to need a shower when we get back.’

‘You know, it could have been a lot worse.’

‘Yeah, I could have shot the little shit.’

‘Pig-bitch!’ spits Jason.

Rico turns in his seat. ‘I told you to settle down! You’re not doing yourself any favours.’

‘How about you give me a chance to bash your head in? That’d be doing me a favour. I will, you know. First chance I get!’

‘It’s never too late to use the taser,’ I murmur.

‘The boss is going to go ape shit as it is,’ Rico says. ‘I get in trouble too, you know. We’re supposed to be out on a routine patrol in our own district.’

‘These two bashed one of his best cops a week ago! Do you think he’ll care what we’re supposed to be doing?’ I think about that and reply before he does. ‘Maybe let’s not mention the tunnel.’

‘You’d rather he hear it from one of them?’ He indicates the teens in the back. ‘You’ve got fifteen minutes to come up with an acceptable spin on this, Winter. Start thinking.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘I don’t care what you thought you were doing!’ the boss shouts at Rico as he attempts to explain. ‘You allowed a probationary constable in your charge to chase an armed, violent, drug-affected offender into an active train tunnel!’ His murky hazel eyes are wide, lips thin with tension. The angry colour that had started in Inspector Burns’s cheeks moved up to hit his receding grey hairline. The infamous Burns flush. Combined with the always-blue suit he wore and his habit of huffing and puffing his way through his tirades, he’d earned himself the title the Tank, short for Thomas the Tank Engine. That kind of fits in nicely with tonight’s little railway adventure.

Burns was most likely getting sick of dishing out these sorts of reprimands, but I was just as sick of receiving them. And it wasn’t Rico’s fault.

‘Can we chill for a second, Tank?’ I cut in. ‘There was no allow about it. I just did it.’

Those slitted eyes turn to stare me down. ‘The title is sir, Winter. And do you think I’m an idiot?’

I wonder if he wants the honest answer, decide I should probably play it safe. ‘No, sir.’

‘And have you been in my presence for the last two months?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then is there really any need to cut in to state the obvious?’

‘I suppose not.’ I tack ‘sir’ on the end when his brow attempts to hit his hairline.

Burns’s attention bounces back to Rico. ‘You’re going to tell me exactly how this came about.’

‘We were following up on a tip-off that the two youths involved in the attack on Constable Hadley were in the location, sir.’

I look out the window of Wyong Police Station. It’s still dark, though the sunrise can’t be too far away. The roads are getting busier and the angry honk of a horn on the main road breaks the relative quiet. Wyong Police Station is one of three stations in Tuggerah Lakes Police District, which covers 820 square kilometres and serves a population of around 150,000 people. That information is only a small part of a diatribe of facts the boss seems to be inherently proud of. I can’t even think it without hearing his voice booming it in my head. Sydney’s got to have loads more people per district, but as he comes from a town in outback New South Wales that barely rates a dot on the map and is famous for sheep racing, I guess this is his own personal megalopolis. Other than when I’m copping the odd roasting, I generally enjoy being stationed here. It wasn’t easy to get a posting on the coast straight out of the academy, so I was lucky.

‘We went out to the area immediately as we wanted to ensure we were there in time to detain them,’ Rico continues. ‘We found them injecting what we believe was methamphetamine close to the tunnel entrance. They spotted us and bolted.’

Burns’s eyes are back on me. He’s looking at me the same way a weary, pissed-off parent looks at a toddler throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. I’m sure deep down he likes me. Deep, deep down. Somewhere. Because he hasn’t kicked me out. Yet.

‘While I was busy with one, Lexi continued into the tunnel after the other one.’

Burns’s eyes return to Rico. ‘Did you order her to stop?’

Rico hesitates, shoots me a weary glance of his own. ‘Heat of the moment, sir. I can’t remember.’

‘Good save,’ Burns says unappreciatively. His hand goes to his forehead. ‘Winter, can you please explain to me what you were thinking, running into that tunnel?’

‘The little shit’s life was at risk. He’d loaded himself with drugs and gone bouncing down the tunnel like a whacked-out ballerina. If I hadn’t pulled him out of the way of that train there wouldn’t have been enough left of him to charge.’

‘Winter, you’re a probationary officer. Sergeant Rico is here to make sure you don’t do stupid things like playing in railway traffic! You should be following his instructions, not making rash decisions and charging blindy into volatile situations on your own. You need to understand that the rules are in place for your own protection. Not that that’s something any top-of-her-class-at-the-academy recruit should need to be told.’

As if I need reminding about the rules. Since joining the police force, I’ve never encountered so many. Whatever. I can’t help the yawn, nor can I quite completely cover it.

The Tank fires up again. ‘Am I boring you, Winter?’

‘Only mildly, sir.’ I mean, I don’t want to be too blunt but the man probably needs to be reminded that only a year ago I survived the dual attentions of a serial killer and a sociopath. Burns looks like the top of his head might be about to blow right off. ‘There’s one other thing you should know,’ I say before he can shout at me some more. ‘The teens we brought in are Hamills.’

‘As in … part of the Hamill crime family?’ He sits, takes several deep breaths and—oh hell, this is it. He’s going to have a heart attack. ‘Enough. I want the whole episode, in writing, on my desk by this time tomorrow.’

‘Already done, sir,’ I tell him almost smugly. Rico had wanted to make sure our versions of events were iron-clad identical, so despite my intense aversion to paperwork, he’d made me do it with him before fronting the boss. ‘If I could just make a suggestion.’

‘No.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘No, you may not make a suggestion,’ Burns spits. ‘Because I don’t want to hear another word!’

Oh, for fuck’s sake. ‘Should I put that in writing too then, sir?’

Rico coughs. It was a gentle sound, nowhere near strong enough to cause his eyes to appear to pop out of his head as they were doing.

The Tank opens his mouth then rethinks whatever he was going to say, snapping his jaw shut. His beady stare moves between Rico and I for a moment, the heavy rise and fall of his chest suggesting he’s striving for control. ‘Get out of my sight, both of you.’

I want to, I really do, but now I have the Hamill twins, I need to make sure they go down. Tank has already got his elbows on the desk and his fingers at his temples. How much worse can it get?

‘Yes, sir, but the Drugs and Firearms Squad would be interested to know we have the twins in custody. I could contact them for you—

‘No, Winter, you won’t!’

‘But—’

‘I’m well aware of your connections to the big brass! But flashing those connections around is not a good look!’

My mouth drops open in disgust. ‘Flashing? You think I’m—’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Rico says over my objection. ‘We’ll get out of your way.’

I’m being towed out of the room, Rico’s expression threatening all sorts of things if I don’t come quietly.

‘Are you trying to get us on permanent desk duty?’ he asks as we head out.

‘I’m trying to do my job! There’s an entire team of specialist police looking for any and every chance to build their case on the Hamills. They need to be told!’

‘Look, we’ll get the twins ID’d on the assault, charge them, then get them to spill their guts about the drugs. Once we have the evidence to call in the big guns, we’ll let the drugs and firearms people know.’

‘All that’s doing is making a stupid concession to his little dick syndrome! They should be told now!’

‘We have our orders, so let’s follow them for now. Okay? Please?’

‘Okay,’ I huff. Because I’ve already got him into trouble this morning and he seems to worry more about that sort of thing than I do. ‘But under objection. Seriously, what is his problem? That was a pretty epic tantrum over two successful arrests.’

We reach the break room and I head to the fridge and take out the sandwiches I’d tossed in last night, check the urn for water. It’s half full and hot. Good.

‘I doubt he’s peaked yet.’

‘Why?’

‘You haven’t been here long enough,’ Rico teases, collecting his breakfast containers from the sink and stuffing them into his bag.

‘Funny.’ I screw the lid on the coffee I’ve made. ‘What exactly did I say that was unreasonable?’

Rico’s eyes gleam with fun. ‘Nothing you weren’t prepared to put in writing.’

My lips twitch. ‘Well, if he won’t let me speak …’

He leans on the table as he pins me with a desperate stare. ‘Do you know how hard it is not to laugh? Can you imagine what would happen if I did? It’s all right for you, probationary constable, but I’m a sergeant. Between the smartarse comments and those damn expressions you pull, I’m—’

‘That’s not fair! It takes every ounce of willpower I have most of the time just to keep my mouth shut! How can I help what the rest of my face is doing?’

Rico drops his head in defeat. ‘If nothing else, we should get some brownie points for arresting those brothers. It’s a real win to have them in custody over Hadley’s assault.’

I pick up the coffee and sandwiches. ‘Yay us, right?’

Rico walks me out of the station and down the front steps to the carpark. ‘You want to get a hot breakfast?’ he asks, glancing at my sandwiches and coffee.

‘You and your big breakfasts. Are you trying to turn me into a hippo?’

‘I helped you take down a couple of kids belonging to the most notorious crime family in the country this morning, and got roasted by the boss for it. That takes energy. You owe me breakfast.’

‘Raincheck,’ I tell him. ‘I need to sleep.’ Working the two nights, one day routine doesn’t really bother me, and I’m not really all that tired, but I need time for another personal project I’m working on and there’s never enough of it to spare.

Rico stops in front of his Jeep to dig out his keys. ‘Then dinner tonight is on you. We’ll spice things up and Menulog it to the station.’

‘Oh, the extravagance. Fine. I’ll shout you a burrito or something,’ I promise and wave him off.

A moment later a shadow emerges from a sheltered corner of the building opposite. The man who approaches is elderly, his skin dark against the white of his hair and his tan-coloured coat. One arm of that coat hangs limp, nothing to support it. I’ve heard multiple stories about its loss, from a mustering accident in Far North Queensland to a croc bite in the NT. I’m not sure which—if either—to believe and I’m equally not sure he remembers which is true. ‘You should have a proper meal with that young fella. He’s a good ’un.’

‘He is.’ His previous relationship had lasted six years before the pressures of the job had ended it and he’d somehow managed to walk away on friendly terms. It didn’t surprise me. That’s the sort of guy he was. But I don’t need a matchmaker; I’m not the relationship type. And I really like Rico, enough to not want to complicate things. Not that I’d ever tell him that. As far as he and everyone else at the station was concerned, I don’t really like anyone. It’s not that far from the truth.

‘Still wearing the old jeans, Paddy?’ I ask to change the subject.

‘Yeah.’ He pats the Target bag in his trolley containing the new pair I bought him because the others are falling apart. ‘Saving these ones for a special occasion. That for me?’ he asks, nodding to the food and coffee.

‘You know it is.’ I hand the meal over and he puts it in his trolley before handing me back an empty container and travel mug. I toss them in the car then lean back against the bonnet.

‘Bit cold this morning. Looking forward to this coffee.’ He blows into it, breathing deep before taking a sip. ‘Thanks,’ he says with a satisfied sigh. ‘How was your shift?’

I shoot him a grin. ‘I got to play with trains.’

‘I like trains,’ he says, placing the coffee in his trolley to start on his ham and cheese on rye. ‘But last time you said you played with something you were trying to get yourself killed flagging down a bus to catch someone pinching underwear.’

My smile widens. ‘Got to take the excitement where I can get it. Being dull would be murder on my social life.’

He wheeze-laughs and I worry again about the chest infection he doesn’t seem to be able to shake off. ‘You looking after yourself? Want me to get you some cold and flu tablets or something?’

‘Nah, all good. I told ya—too much on the ciggies back when I could afford ’em.’

‘But that sounds nasty.’

‘Don’t you be worrying any more about me, Lexi Winter. You’re an angel.’

I raise an eyebrow threateningly. ‘Anyone else tries calling me that I’ll give them a black eye.’

‘I know. You get going, get some rest.’

I slide into my car with a wave. ‘See ya, Paddy.’

Before driving off, I pull a burner phone from the glovebox and turn it on.

I think for a moment, then type. Looks like your grandsons have gotten themselves into a bit of trouble. You ready to play? I hit send, turn off the phone. I don’t need a reply. The Hamills know what they have to do.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was just after eight in the upper North Shore suburb of Hornsby, and the main road into Sydney wasn’t letting Detective Sergeant Finn Carson through without a fight. He might have expected the chaos on a workday but this was a Saturday morning. The traffic was officially ridiculous.

He took a sip of the coffee he’d sacrificed a valuable five minutes to purchase and checked his watch. In a few hours, he needed to be back up the coast for his daughter’s eleventh birthday party. It seemed like plenty of time, but he had a feeling it was going to evaporate. He was over playing homicide squad leader

Reviews for Retribution

[shelleyraec · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Retribution is the thrilling sequel to Unforgiven, in which Sarah Barrie introduced Lexi Winter.Once a lone vigilante, after the events of Unforgiven, Lexi, the survivor of pedophile network that included her parents, has joined the police force and now is a probationary Constable. Working within the rules is not easy for her, but she’s doing her best to honour the commitment she made, at least during work hours. Lexi is still hunting for Damon Vaughn, the sociopath who delivered Lexi to the orchestrator of her childhood abuse, and is secretly playing a dangerous game designed to find him. Lexi’s two worlds collide after she and her training officer chase a pair of teenage drug dealers. Tightly plotted with plenty of action that includes plenty of tense situations, violence, and several murders, Retribution is fast-paced and exciting. Set between the central coast area of NSW and Sydney, three seperate investigations, plus Lexi’s personal project, eventually intertwine, reuniting Lexi with Detective Inspector Rachael Langley and her Homicide squad, which includes Detective Sergeant Finn Carson.Working with the team in an official capacity is a challenge for Lexi. Given her extraordinary talents, Lexi’s struggle humanises her, and I liked the role it plays in her personal growth. Barrie also provides more insight into the lives of Rachael and Finn, and I’m liking the hint of a possible relationship developing between Finn and Lexi.Retribution is a gripping page turner and I’m looking forward to the next instalment.

[heatherlinc · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

"Retribution" was a captivating read from start to finish but the end . . . !!!! I kept turning pages to see if I had missed something - what a cliffhanger! I didn't realise this was part of a series until I went looking to see what other novels Sarah Barrie has written.I loved Lexi. She was such a complex character with a very interesting part (to say the least) - computer hacker, prostitute, vigilante and now police officer - and was unafraid to bend the rules when necessary. The other members of the police force were also great and I enjoyed all their interactions, Rachael and Finn in particular.Gripping, fast-paced and with great characters "Retribution" was a very entertaining read. Although it was the first novel I have read by this author, it definitely won't be my last.