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Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1)

Page 10

by Lewis Hastings


  The truth was he was starting to read her like a book. Trained in NVCs – non-verbal communications – he could watch and observe, detect the slightest ‘tell’ and a blatant lie was nigh on impossible to miss. So why, he often asked himself, was he so terrible at poker?

  Ten minutes later Elena parked up on Jubilee Drive and walked into The Lime Room, a local bar and restaurant.

  Jack recommended the burger; simple, well done and wholesome, Elena followed his lead and they both had a fruit juice, it was clear already that neither wanted alcohol as there would be a fight over the keys on the way home.

  After a few minutes, a distinguished-looking male walked across the bar towards them. Lean and tanned, he had salt and pepper hair, swept back ever-so-slightly, Jaguar titanium-framed glasses perched awkwardly on top of his head, allowing his Cornish-slate eyes to sparkle. They were one of his most disarming features and he used them very skilfully, particularly around the opposite sex.

  He was dressed in a Ralph Lauren polo shirt over a pair of beige chino shorts. He wore deck shoes on his feet. The casual, yet classy ensemble was completed with a black-faced Omega De Ville wristwatch.

  The male, who many women felt resembled a young Omar Shariff, stood straight in front of Cade then held him at arm’s length – as if to examine the goods he had just purchased and then drew him in for a very positive ‘man hug’.

  “John Cade, as I live and breathe; how are you young sir?”

  “I’m well my friend; very well, it’s bloody good to see you again. Allow me to introduce my friend to you. Elena Dimitrova, this is a very old friend of mine from the past, we cut our teeth together in the United Kingdom, meet John Daniel.”

  Daniel leant forward, picking up her right hand and placing a perfectly weighted kiss onto the surface of her skin. Some older men would not get away with it, but Daniel had made it into an art form, charming the ladies around the globe since before Jesus was a lad, apparently. His healthy looks and relaxed style belied the fact that he was nearly sixty-five.

  “Delighted to meet you, John Daniel, Jack did not tell me he had younger brother!” which earned her an incredulous look from her man.

  “Udovolstvieto da se zapoznaem Miss Dimitrova. I have heard so much about you. Tell me, what is a beautiful Bulgarian girl doing with an aging and neurotic Brit like Cade? You let me know if you get tired of him, I have a great business going here and could always look after you!”

  He reaffirmed his intentions with a playful wink and a peck on her left cheek before succumbing to a deftly delivered flick of a tea towel from his hitherto unseen wife’s hand.

  “Ouch!”

  Clutching his now reddening ear he continued, “And this aggressive beast Elena is my wonderful wife of forty years, she’s called Lynne. Lynne, this is Jack’s new ‘friend’.” He did that fashionable thing with the fingers of both hands to indicate speech marks.

  Both John and Lynne conceded that Cade was a lucky man before Lynne offered Elena a chance to look around the restaurant and their adjoining home.

  She took the subtle hint and left her new man to talk to his old friend.

  “So my boy, you staying the night? A chance to knock the top off a couple? I’ve got a twenty-year-old Laphroaig that’s just begging to be sampled. You up for it, or as I suspect do you have an altogether new hobby these days? My God, she is fabulous, where…”

  He interrupted his old mate. “John I haven’t got a clue, she came into my life only a few days ago but we seem to have gelled so quickly.”

  With a wicked grin and the twist of a non-existent moustache, Daniel gave him hell.

  “Oh come on man, you expect me to believe that a drop-dead-gorgeous girl like that just walks into your life, shags you senseless, lets you drive her Porsche and then announces her undying love for you is actually genuine? Come on mate you are losing your touch. It’s not your money, so what is she after?”

  “You know JD I’ve got more money than you would imagine, things are going well, you know The Oceanside in Whitianga?”

  “I do, you own it.”

  “Bugger, you haven’t lost your skills, have you, you crafty old fox!”

  “Look, Jack, any man would give his right arm for a few nights with such a looker but be careful, you don’t know a lot about her, you’ve spent years hunting Eastern European criminals, you know the syndicates, the top players, so why now after all these years do you roll over like a pup and let her get under your skin without a fight?”

  “Fair point JD but, I don’t know,” he shook his head as if to clear it, “she’s just so special, we hit it off immediately – well after I accused her of being a…”

  “Hooker, yes, I heard! Nice chat up line boy, have you learned nothing from The Master?”

  “Sounds like you have been talking to Big Stan, the loud-mouthed bastard!”

  They laughed just like old times before Daniel changed the subject rapidly, seeing the women making their way back to them he took the opportunity to exchange some work-related information with his friend; it was after all the reason for his visit. He was too old for field work now, but he knew he could rely on his old team mate to track down someone for another old acquaintance from the United Kingdom.

  He laid out some paperwork on the bar table, turned a couple of pages and then said, “Find him and there’s a few thousand on the table. He’s missing from Berkshire, his rather wealthy wife has reported him absent to the UK authorities – he’s gone off the radar and she thinks he’s shacked up with some equally rich bird here. This is a true case of hell hath no fury! Mind you, seeing who he’s with now one can hardly blame him; exquisite shape, great taste, and probably twenty years his junior. I mean, who could be so lucky?”

  He winked at Cade and indicated to a monochrome image, “I’ve carried out the basics Jack, but I can’t be arsed to continue with it. The job’s yours if you want it, if nothing else it will help you keep your hand in and avoid becoming stale. After all, I’d hate for you to be taken in by a striking twenty-eight-year-old redhead with a penchant for outdoor lovemaking.”

  “Christ, is there nothing you don’t know?”

  John Daniel skilfully brought his protégé back down to earth as he beamed a huge grin and laughed a raucous laugh before clashing his glass onto Cade’s. The women returned to the table, the early effects of a bottle of house red starting to impact upon their step. It had all the hallmarks of a fun day.

  “I see you two have reacquainted far too quickly,” announced Lynne Daniel, a grand-looking woman with naturally dark hair and a slim and attractive figure, the apparent regular work in the gym aimed at hanging onto her somewhat playful husband.

  “And I see you two have acquainted with a bottle of my house red!”

  The foursome spent the next few hours chatting; chatting about the past but being careful to balance the conversation with the future, in their case the restaurant industry on the Coromandel Peninsula – a place that both Daniel and Cade had gravitated to from Europe.

  If the truth were to be known Daniel always knew exactly where his pupil was, he’d sworn a debt of gratitude many years before and had made it his life’s work to uphold his end of the bargain.

  Daniel subtly tested the Bulgarian, probing questions being used to elicit some of her background.

  “Smashing car, Elena. I wish I could afford one like it.”

  “Yes, I am lucky, no?”

  “You are, very. Just make sure Emerson Fittipaldi here doesn’t wreck the damned thing!”

  She laughed, but honestly had no idea who he was referring to.

  “It is just a rental!”

  “Ah, I see. Well, it’s certainly nicer than the Toyota Corolla I normally end up with. Here, try this,” JD suggested to Elena as a plate laden with lime meringue pie arrived at the table.

  “We serve it with vanilla cream, and a heavenly tropical compote, really brings out the flavour of the limes, it’s our signature dessert.”

  He wa
s right; it was sublime.

  The night came to an end with the two ladies hugging one another and promising to stay in touch.

  “Look after him, Elena, whatever you are doing keep doing it, he’s not looked this good for years!”

  “I promise I will. Tell me, was he a good man to work with JD?”

  “Yes, he was Elena.” He was guarded and skilfully avoided the obvious question.

  “And whatever you are doing for this old dog make sure you tell Mrs Daniel too as it’s certainly put a spring in his step!” offered John Daniel as he sealed the goodbye with a firm kiss on her cheek and a playful, almost imperceptible tap on her bottom.

  Cade hugged Lynne and promised to keep her updated on any news, then turned to his old friend as the girls walked to the car arm in arm and made small talk.

  JD gave his second man hug of the day, but this time just before he let go Cade whispered into his friend’s ear, “John, have you seen a dark coloured Rolls Royce Wraith around here? Brand new? Dark windows? I haven’t seen the plate, not got that close yet.”

  “No, I haven’t, sorry. You OK jack? What is it?”

  “Not sure, mate, call it a gut feeling.”

  “You forget my boy, we go back a long way, me more so than you. Old habits die hard. Now do me a favour, just watch yourself, you have picked up on this car…”

  “And?”

  “And I’m deliberating who it is too. Call it idle curiosity, but I’m also wondering just who this sweet little spoonful of honey is with the red hair and the taste for expensive sports cars. Have you not had the same thoughts, Jack?”

  He had, but for some bizarre reason he found himself trying to separate them: the car from the girl, the girl from the car, the Wraith from the girl and vice versa. They could not be linked, he was just lucky that she chose him and as he had found in the past; you run with your luck.

  Daniel hadn’t noticed the Rolls, but he promised he would keep a weather eye out for it and report back if he found out who owned it. He knew what such a feeling was, and in Cade’s world that meant one of two things: Trouble or worse.

  “Do me a favour, my boy. Let that gut instinct of yours guide you. Remember London. You have enemies in the East. And it’s not as big a world as it was when we were growing up.”

  Dimitrova threw the keys to Cade announcing that she was in no fit state to drive. Cade winked at his friends. They knew how much he loved the road home and in a car like that it wouldn’t take long.

  “I’ll ring you about that job JD. Catch up soon.”

  He poured his extra-feminine guest into her car and strapped her in.

  The drive home was spectacular, the arctic-white headlights illuminating the way as he teased the Cayman back through the mountainous switchback towards his adopted town. He swept past late night tourists and locals alike, the Porsche eagerly consuming the road ahead. A row of camper vans, heading north and probably lost were dispatched in seconds. He accelerated so fast he didn’t see the same red Volkswagen in the middle of the convoy.

  As he surged on back towards the coast soon all he saw in his rear-view mirror were the distant lights of Pauanui. In the valley below a stream of headlights from the convoy he had overtaken continued to snake around the steep mountain pass, a convoy that included the red Golf and at the rear a new arrival, the dark automotive leviathan that Rolls Royce had christened the Wraith.

  Elena Dimitrova slept the whole journey, oblivious to the movements of the car and the contemplative silence of its driver.

  Chapter Four

  They pulled up onto the drive at Spindrift. The sensor lights lit up the driveway and the path to the front door. Hidden but noisy crickets called to one another as he opened the passenger door and scooped out his girlfriend.

  “Come on, Miss P, let’s get you to bed.”

  She stirred, “Ooh Mr Cade, you are so strong, I hope you don’t take advantage of me…” She giggled a drunken giggle before slumping into his arms once more.

  He navigated his way to the front door, put the key in the lock, walked inside and kicked the door shut with his foot. En route to the bedroom, he nudged a wall light with his shoulder and tapped a familiar number into the alarm panel. Arriving at the bedroom, he flicked up the duvet with all the skill of a Premier League football player and then placed her gently onto the sheets.

  He slipped off her shoes but decided against the inevitable fight with her dress, sorely tempted though he was. Instead, he rolled the duvet back over her now sleeping body and watched her fall into a deep slumber.

  He pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and placed his now bare feet onto the covers and watched her for a full ten minutes. He marvelled at the colour of her hair, her skin tone and her sheer untainted beauty. He smiled to himself at his incredible luck. In a moment of madness this girl had entered his world, he had almost let her go and now, well now he was contemplating a possible future with her – the relationship felt that extraordinary.

  But his instinct was yelling at him. ‘This may be too good to be true.’

  He was one hundred percent besotted, and whilst he hated himself for falling so quickly for a member of the opposite sex, he somehow knew that this one was different.

  As he watched her chest silently rising and falling, JD’s words appeared in his mind, “Be careful, Jack.”

  He woke a few hours later with a start and realised that it had been a very long day, much longer than he had anticipated. He massaged his neck, got undressed and slipped under the bedclothes. She moved gently towards him to accept his embrace. They both slept better than they had done for years.

  Morning was heralded by the frantic call of gulls in the nearby moorings; the arrival of a local boat with fish on board had ensured their eager and ravenous presence. It was a sound that Jack enjoyed; it reminded him why he chose to live near to the sea.

  He rose before her and carried out his daily ritual. A wet shave, using some newly marketed citrus gel – it left his skin feeling alive – at least that is what it said on the tube. He then stood for a full minute with a volcanically hot flannel on his face, a trick he learned somewhere exotic some years before.

  He slipped out of his towel and into the shower. It was one of his major vices. The system allowed water to pour down from a rainfall fitting onto his body; the smooth, almost silk-like water washed over him, ideal for a morning when he had the luxury of time.

  Today he switched the system to power out the water from a number of jets in the wall. The steamy liquid ricocheted off his body and onto the tempered, tinted glass. It quickly began to unravel the many knots in his damaged body.

  As usual, he was soon lost in the mist and began to formulate his plans for the day – he laughed as sometimes he would even write up his ‘things to do’ list on the glass door before erasing it with the shower head – old habits died hard. Leave no trace.

  He was so lost that he didn’t hear the door open. Somewhat startled, he opened his eyes to make out the divine shape of his Bulgarian concubine.

  She stepped into his arms and they both stood, taking in the sheer power and heat of the shower. It was a wonderful start to the day. He turned her around to wash her, gently allowing his hands to ‘accidentally’ explore the contours of her body once again.

  She knew of course exactly what was about to happen and didn’t resist in the slightest.

  “Jack, last night, I…”

  “Shh…I know, it’s OK. We had a wonderful day, you were drunk, it was great to see you so happy.”

  He massaged her shoulders, causing her to respond with sounds of genuine pleasure.

  “JD and Lynne think you are wonderful. Trust me if he likes you, then you are doing really well!”

  “I think he would like to be here now. To feel me do this…”

  She lowered herself into the heart of the shower and onto her knees, her head disappearing into the enveloping, intense vapour. Within moments, her whole body had vanished into the steam, but he kn
ew precisely where she was.

  Her skilful hands and mouth began to work on his body, taking him to an exquisite place in a moment of absolute pleasure, an act made all the more surreal by her almost complete physical absence.

  For a brief second his mind reverted back to another time, 2004 to be precise, to a similar scenario but in a different place entirely. A different town, different hemisphere and an entirely different, completely dissimilar girl in fact – one equally passionate but now a distant, if not important and rather evocative part of his past.

  Later, having slowly dried each other off, they moved through to the kitchen. Cade switched the faithful coffee machine on and opened the blinds. Elena was still dressed in a towel, a towel that could have all-too-easily been removed.

  He smiled outwardly and found himself thinking that he was living a second honeymoon, although this time without the shackles of a marriage certificate. Should his internal alarm system be triggering? Should he just relax? Should, could, would, all words that he currently didn’t have time for, choosing to exchange them, albeit possibly naively, for ‘here’ and ‘now’.

  The weekend came quickly. For Cade it was another day in paradise – the joy of working when he wanted to, as opposed to years of having to work when work dictated that he had to.

  The weather put on a truly amazing show, so taking the opportunity to see her in a swimsuit; he took her to his favourite beach. Like many men, the thought of what she was like underneath those summer dresses, and even the smallest of swimsuits did something for him, making the journey towards the next level all the more, enticing.

  He had the foresight to pack a picnic that would play tantalising tricks with her taste buds – the fact that he was so well connected to the local restaurant trade appeared to have escaped her grasp – and coupled with a chilled bottle of St Clair riesling he was guaranteed to impress.

  She had great taste and yet, and yet underneath there was something incredibly ‘simple’ about her, something intensely normal that made her all the more attractive.

 

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