The Doctor's Rebel Knight Read Free

been a weather-board cottage built by one of the early pioneers. The front entrance led to a small reception area currently attended by a young constable who looked to Fran as if he should have still been at school. She suddenly felt every one of her twenty-nine years as she approached the desk.
    ‘Can I help you?’ the young ginger-haired and freckled constable asked with a helpful smile.
    Fran tucked a wet tendril of hair behind her right ear. ‘I would like to make a complaint about a dangerous driver,’ she said. ‘He almost caused a serious accident just out of town.’
    The constable reached for an official-looking form. ‘Right,’ he said, unclicking his pen. ‘Can you describe the vehicle?’
    ‘Yes, it was a motorbike,’ she answered.
    ‘Would you happen to know the make?’
    Fran rolled her lips together. ‘Um…no, but it was black and silver…I mean…er…chrome.’
    The young man stopped scribbling to look up at her. ‘What about the registration number? Did you happen to see that?’
    Fran frowned as she tried to remember. ‘I should have written it down. I’ll remember it in a moment…Let me see…there was a V in it, I think, or it might have been a W. It was raining so hard I couldn’t really see the numbers but there was a six in there somewhere…’ Her frown deepened. ‘Actually, it could have been a nine.’
    ‘What about the driver?’ the constable asked with a deadpan face. ‘Did he stop?’
    ‘Yes, he did,’ she said with a huffy look as she crossed her arms over her chest. ‘He made a paltry apology and got back on his bike and drove off towards town.’
    ‘So you weren’t hurt or your car damaged or anything?’ he asked with the same deadpan expression.
    ‘No, but that’s not the point,’ Fran said. ‘This town is currently without a doctor. Can you imagine what would have happened if there had been a collision?’
    The constable nodded grimly and resumed his scribbling. ‘I’ll file a report to see if we can find this guy and issue him with a warning,’ he said, and then, looking up again, asked, ‘Would you be able to recognise him if you saw him again?’
    Fran chewed at her lip. ‘We-ll…he was sort of covered…you know…in black leather, all over, boots and all. He didn’t take his helmet off, he just lifted the visor, but I would definitely recognise his eyes again.’
    The constable lifted his gingery brows. ‘What colour were they?’
    Fran unfolded her arms. ‘Blue,’ she said with authority in her tone. ‘An icy shade of blue. Sort of like the underside of a glacier. But they had a darker blue around the edges.’
    There was a strange little silence.
    ‘Is there something wrong?’ she asked.
    The young constable’s eyes contained a hint of amusement.‘Maybe I should get my superior, Sergeant Hawke, to deal with this,’ he said, clearly trying his best not to crack a smile.
    Fran pursed her lips. ‘I would definitely like to speak to him if he can do something about this irresponsible motorcyclist who is putting innocent people’s lives at risk with his inconsiderate behaviour. Is he here now?’
    The constable cleared his throat in a manner that suggested he was trying to disguise a chuckle. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘He came in a few minutes ago.’ He reached for an intercom button on the reception desk and leaned forward to speak into it. ‘Sarg? There’s a young lady here to see you.’ After a moment he looked up at Fran and asked, ‘Er…your name, miss?’
    Fran flicked her long wet hair back behind her shoulders. ‘It’s not Miss, it’s Doctor, actually,’ she said, only because it was true in theory and on paper, if not currently in practice. ‘Dr Frances Nin.’
    The constable relayed the information to his superior and then got to his feet to direct Fran to the door down the narrow hall, still with that hint of a smile lurking about his too-young-to-be-taken-seriously-as-a-cop mouth. ‘Sergeant Jacob Hawke will see you