by Gl Corbin
The meeting over, Arnold walked out of the room.
“Miss Munroe.” Broomhead took a seat at the opposite end of the table from Chris. “I have to say I am rather disappointed you've made no progress.”
“I didn't say that.”
“So you have something for me?”
“Nothing concrete yet, but I should have something very soon now. I do need a little more information from you though.”
Their meeting lasted just under an hour. Chris gave no hint of what she had seen, but she did establish that Broomhead didn't suspect anyone in particular - certainly not the man with whom he had just held a meeting.
Chris came away with the impression that Broomhead was a possessive and jealous man. He had mentioned numerous occasions when he had caught his wife talking to other men. In each case, the incident described had sounded innocuous to Chris. As the meeting had progressed, Broomhead had become more and more irritable and even quite nasty at times. When their meeting ended, Chris promised to have something for him within a week. She would deliver on that promise, but she had a feeling he may not get the result he had hoped for.
Bradley hadn't tried to call her since that morning. If he had any sense he would not bring up the Jeremies case again. Provided he let it drop, she was prepared to forget this morning's incident. If he started on at her again, she would kick his arse out. She hoped it didn't come to that; he had such a lovely arse. She would much prefer they spent the evening making up.
Chris had to drive passed her office on the way home. As she did, she noticed there was a light on. Even though she had been a little worked up that morning, she was positive she hadn't left it on. It was routine – switch off the lights – lock the doors. She pulled the car into the side street across the road.
The door frame was splintered; someone had forced the door which was slightly ajar. Chris's pulse was racing as she crept closer. A noise from inside stopped her in her tracks; she was only a few feet from the door. There was no point in being a martyr; she knew she should call the police. Chris slipped the phone out of her pocket, and was about to punch 999 when the door opened.
“Bradley?”
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Also from GL Corbin:
His Property (serial)
Her Master (serial)
His Decision (short story)
His Rules (short story in 3 parts)
His Plaything (short story in 3 parts)
http://www.GLCorbin.com