by M. D. Archer
“But you can’t. You didn’t. And that’s why you’re an editor. A good one too.”
“At least, she used to be,” Paige said cheerfully.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“What? She’s hardly going to be able to do keep doing it now, is she.”
Cecilia let out a breath, suddenly seeming to deflate. “Sally, I’m... I’m furious with you, but more than that, I’m hurt. You’re my friend.”
“At least she used—” Paige started.
Sophie elbowed Paige.
“I always wanted to be a published author,” Sally said quietly, her head dropping as she started to sob. After a moment, Cecilia went over and put her arm around her shoulders. “And it was just so good, I couldn’t resist,” Sally added, her voice muffled.
“I know,” Cecilia said sadly. “That book is going to win awards.”
25
At S & S Investigations, the post-case celebration was sombre.
Both Sophie and Leo were quiet and withdrawn and even the chipper Paige was finding it hard to keep enough enthusiasm going for the three of them. Still, they had their case completion ritual to perform—the ceremonial pouring and discarding of whisky—and so they did.
Sophie and Leo sat at the conference table, playing with their untouched drinks. Paige, who’d downed hers in triumph, stood at the whiteboard with watering eyes and a burning throat. She wrote a few final details on the board, then a large SOLVED at the top.
“So satisfying.” She beamed. “And I’ll get started on Cecilia’s final invoice right away.” She’d hand deliver it tomorrow, she thought to herself.
Her phone buzzed. She picked it up off the table. “It’s a message from Zelda. She’s telling me to check email.” Paige looked at Leo. “Do you know what this is about?”
He lifted his shoulders. “No.”
Paige pulled her laptop from her bag. She found Zelda’s latest email and clicked on the link—a news article. At first, she frowned, but as she kept reading, she started to smile. “Oh my god!”
Zelda had already managed to get someone to publish a piece she’d written about the once famous Lost Girl of 1997. But more importantly, she’d said it was a case belonging to S & S Investigations. Paige didn’t even care that Zelda had falsely described herself as an investigative associate because she’d included a link to their website and their email address. Her heart racing, she went to the S & S Investigations inbox.
There were four new emails. From potential clients.
“Look, you two,” she exclaimed breathlessly, pushing her laptop over. “This is it. We’ve done it.”
Both Leo and Sophie managed to smile.
“That’s awesome,” Sophie said. Leo raised his glass.
Paige let out a small chirrup of happiness.
“S & S Investigations is finally taking off.”
AN HOUR LATER, LEO trudged from his car down the driveway that snaked past his parent’s house to his studio apartment at the back of their property.
He opened the door to see Emmitt perched expectantly on the kitchen bench.
“Dude, you’re not supposed to sit there. You know that,” Leo said wearily, dropping his keys.
Emmitt meowed.
“Do you hang out there all day or is it just for when I get home?”
Emmitt dropped lightly down from the bench and strolled over to his bowl. He looked up at Leo. “Meow,” he repeated.
“Yeah, fair enough.”
After spooning out some food, Leo went to the cupboard in search of something for his own stomach. Something tasty. Something to make him feel better. Sure, he was happy that S & S Investigations was making progress, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d been left, once again, broken-hearted.
Another one had bitten the dust.
Did he even have any comfort food in the house anymore? Leo was a changed man, after all. But when he opened the second cupboard he found a maxi-sized packet of Doritos. Ranch flavour. When had he bought those? Then he remembered. He’d planned to finally have Jane/Katrina/Emily over to his place and he wanted to be able to offer her wine as well as snacks. There were two ripe avocados sitting in the fruit bowl, and a lemon, some coriander, a basic salsa dip, and a bottle of Pinot Gris in the fridge.
His shoulders slumped.
He took the packet of Doritos over to the couch and opened them, not bothering with a bowl.
Why did women keep appearing unsummoned in his life, only to be whisked away again? He munched miserably, barely aware as he steadily transferred chips from the bag to his mouth. When he plunged his hand in and found he’d finished the whole thing, he made a disgusted noise. No. He refused to go back to being the old Leo: the one who sat in his apartment and drank litres of soft drink and indulged in hours of mindless eating. No. He needed to move forward, to become an even better version of himself. He wiped away the chip crumbs from his cheek and stood up. In his bedroom, he changed into running gear, grabbed his earbuds and keys, scratched Emmitt on the head, and then left.
He wouldn’t return until he’d burned off all those chips.
PAIGE LET HERSELF INTO the house. “Tim?” she called.
“In here,” he replied.
She found him on the couch in the living room with an empty bowl of what looked like ice-cream on the coffee table and a kitchen devoid of any evidence of cooking or dinner. On the TV screen was golf.
“Bachelor’s paradise, huh?” Paige said.
“What?”
“Ice-cream for dinner and golf on TV?”
Tim lifted his shoulders. “There’s more in the freezer.”
“I’m not five years old, so I’ll find something proper to eat.”
Paige cast a look at the back of Tim’s head, still fixed on the screen, then dropped her bag on the chair and carried on to the kitchen. She pulled out a block of cheese, tomatoes, and mayonnaise from the fridge. She briefly eyed the packet of bacon, then decided she couldn’t be bothered cooking, and pulled a couple of lettuce leaves from the bag of Cos in the chiller. Finally, she took a couple of slices of Vogels bread from the bag and got the chopping board down from the drainer. Tim continued to stare at the TV.
“Riveting game is it?” she called.
“Yeah. Can’t take my eyes off it.”
Was he being sarcastic? Tim watching golf wasn’t exactly unusual, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence, either.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how my Poirot reveal went? We solved the case.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me how my day was?”
Paige slapped the top layer of Vogels down and stalked over to stand in front of the TV screen. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Dunno. What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re acting like a child.”
“Really. And how would you know.”
“Tim—”
He stood up. “I’m taking a shower.” He dropped the remote and left the room.
Paige watched him go, a frown creasing her brow. What was his problem? where had her sweet, easy, unconfrontational Tim gone?
She didn’t like this, not at all.
SOPHIE PULLED ON LEGGINGS and a singlet and continued to towel dry her hair as she moved around her room, picking up dirty clothes and shoving them in the laundry hamper.
Her phone beeped. She picked it up and saw a missed call from Paige and a new message.
From Roman.
I’m outside. Can you talk?
A wave of adrenaline raced through her body. She stared at the display, uncertain. He must know she was home, but that didn’t mean she had to say yes. She could say she was tired. He’d understand. But was that what she wanted? No. She wanted to see him. No matter how scared or nervous or excited it made her feel. Or how stupid it was to indulge in those feelings. She wanted to see him. Maybe it was because of the whole Josh thing.
Or maybe it wasn’t.
She opened the door.
Roman stood on the porc
h with his hands in his pockets. When his eyes landed on hers, a small smile pulled at his mouth. He had two days-worth of stubble gracing his jaw, and he’d forgone the iron this morning.
He swallowed before speaking. “I’m sorry for showing up like this.” He gestured at her wet hair. Sophie put up a self-conscious hand.
“Is that someone at the door?” Victoria called out from the living room, her voice insistent.
“It’s fine, Victoria, I’ve got it,” she called back.
“Who is it?” she said, her voice growing louder.
Without thinking, Sophie quickly reached out and took Roman’s hand to pull him inside. “Paige told Victoria to look out for me and for some strange reason, she’s actually listening to her.” She kicked the front door shut. “Come on, she won’t let it go.” She led him through her open bedroom door, the first one on the right.
Once they were both inside, Roman hovered near the closed door, as if hesitant to foray too far inside. Sophie stood in the middle of the room, her heart hammering in her chest.
Roman was in her bedroom.
“I should let you rest.”
Sophie looked down. “Sleeping is not... great.” She lifted her shoulders.
“Paige called. She told me you solved your locked room case. Another win for S & S Investigations.” Roman attempted a smile.
“What are you doing here, Roman?” Sophie said suddenly, abruptly, taking a couple of steps toward him, her eyes scanning his face.
“I needed to see you. To make sure ...” Roman shook his head, his brow wrinkling with anguish. “Are you okay?”
Sophie lifted her shoulders. “I’m not sure. I wanted a distraction, so I dived straight back into that case, but now...” She raised her eyes to his. “I’m not sure.”
“Sophie, I—”
“They asked me about Hannah. In the interview. It was her, wasn’t it? Who showed up at your house? Did whatever happened at Fort Lane?”
Roman nodded. “I’m sorry for accusing you. I can’t believe I thought you’d...”
“Yeah.” She looked down. “I guess I was right about Hannah,” she added sadly.
“Seems like.”
“Thanks for checking up on me.” She looked up suddenly.
“I had to. And Josh is... I guess you know already, but he’s in jail. You don’t have to worry about him.”
She nodded. “What a loser, right?”
“Yeah.” He gave her that half-smile of his, one corner pulling up as his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I love the way you smile with your eyes,” she blurted, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. After a moment, he smiled. Sophie swallowed.
She’d taken a prescribed dose of diazepam an hour ago. It had had the intended effect of reducing her anxiety, but it also seemed to be lowering her inhibitions. Was that the same thing, she wondered briefly. And could she blame this, her boldness, on the drugs? Or maybe it was what happened with Josh. Maybe she’d been shocked into saying what she felt.
Because sometimes things were more important than avoiding awkwardness.
“I-I didn’t imagine it, did I?” she said into the silence. “What I felt... between us?”
Roman held her gaze for what felt like forever before he dropped his head. “No.” He raised one hand to scratch his jaw. “I just... I guess I wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening, because it couldn’t be happening.”
“Because you’re married,” Sophie said, nodding.
Their eyes met once again.
“I... Anya and I, we’re...” He shook his head. “Neither of us are happy. I don’t think we’re...”
Blood rushed in Sophie’s ears. It pulsed in her throat, made her tremble. This what it. It was now or never. Because now she understood that never was an actual possibility. She had to do something. It felt like he was about to walk away forever. And she couldn’t live with that. Not without...
“Roman.”
His eyes clung to hers. Sophie took another step and he was right there, right in front of her. And his eyes. They burned into her. She took another step. They were face to face. Only inches apart. She lifted her hand to trace her finger along his jaw. And suddenly they were pressed against each other, fitting together perfectly like she’d always known they would. He cupped the back of her head, burying his hand in her hair. As his mouth caressed hers, he made a sound in the back of his throat and Sophie surged against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. The full length of his body pressed against hers. She pulled him closer and for one blissful moment, they were one.
The harsh peal of a phone pierced the room. They broke apart but their eyes still held each other. Roman took a moment before answering, breathing hard.
“Leconte, what is it? Yes. I... uh, I’m on my way now.” He pushed his phone into his pocket and raised his gaze to hers. Confusion swarmed his face. “I have to go. I’m sorry. Bad timing. We should...”
“Talk later?”
He nodded once, raised his hand to gently caress her cheek, smiling into her eyes, and then was gone.
Sophie, her whole body still trembling, traced a finger across her lips, then took two quick steps across the room to collapse on her bed.
ACROSS TOWN, PROFESSOR Richard Thinton returned to his home office and shut the door. He went straight to his emails and reread the reply he’d received earlier today. A lazy smile crept over his face.
It had started out as nothing more than a prank—a way to rattle that insufferable little upstart Paige Garnet. But it had turned into something else and he was rather happy with the way things were progressing.
He now had two investors prepared to inject some money into the SOS Agency and really get the business up and running.
And Paige and Sophie would finally understand the consequences of crossing someone like him.
DEAR READER,
Thank you for reading the fourth in the S & S Investigations series. I hope you enjoyed it. If so, good news – there are more to come!
In the meantime, you probably know how hard it is for indie authors to get reviews, so if you left some stars for Stolen Things at your online retailer, I’d be forever grateful.
And if you’re interested, check out my other titles on the following pages.
If you want to learn of new releases and special deals email ‘sign me up’ to [email protected] to join my mailing list. No spamming, I promise.
Thanks again.
Margot
(M. D. Archer)
S & S Investigations: Cases Solved
#1 The Disappearance of Polly Dixon
#2 The Persistent Pet Napper
#3 The Strange Behaviour of Hazel Berryman
#4 The Corporate Gig
#5 The Murder at the Reunion
#6 The Hidden Inheritance
#7 The Locked Room Mystery
#8 The Woman Without A Past
Acknowledgements & Other Titles
Thanks to everyone who provided inspiration or feedback. Special thanks to Lisa, Tannis, and Barbara.
The Candidates
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If you’re fascinated by personality and love a classic YA coming of age story with great characters and unexpected plot twists, this is for you.
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What if one personality wasn’t enough.
What if you needed three just to survive.
And what if this could end up destroying you.
The unravel is inevitable.
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Also by M. D. Archer
S & S Investigations
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