by AJ Adams
“I’ll fix that.” Rex led me up to the brand new knight, saying, “Lacy is a huge fan of the queen, but she’s too shy to ask you what it was like to go to the palace.”
After that beautiful lie, all I had to do was nod and smile because Sir Oliver was in full flood. As the bishop was on my left, the two competed to tell me all about their royal experiences. We had protocol and blow-by-blow descriptions of every pillar, painting and royal corgi all the way through salmon mousse, watercress soup, onion tart, tomato salad, roast lamb and bombe glacée.
Their talk numbed me to my surroundings. I sat at the top of a thirty-foot table in a medieval hall, surrounded by antique paintings and suits of armour, mindlessly eating my way through course after course.
It wasn’t until they were clearing the pudding that I became aware of Mrs. Hyde. She was seated next to the bishop and seething at my being enthroned as the hostess. Sir Oliver being all chummy didn’t make her happy either, but she couldn’t get a word in until they brought out cheese, coffee, and port.
I had already resigned myself to an extra hours workout the next morning, and so I tucked in.
“This camembert is perfect,” the bishop enthused.
I adore cheese, and so I was jumping in. “Creamy perfection.”
“The port,” Sir Oliver moaned. “Rex has the best cellar in the country.”
I took a sip, and it was delicious. “Love it.”
Mrs. Hyde leaned past the bishop and sneered. “Oh, you know port?”
That was my moment. “Not really. But I’d say this is well-balanced.” I sniffed at the glass, looking dead serious. “Fine tannins and well-judged acidity.” I sniffed again. “Yes, I’d say this is a languorous and refined wine, wouldn’t you?”
“Good lord!” Sir Oliver stared. “You’re an oenologist!”
“If that means I know my wines, you’d be dead wrong,” I giggled. “I overheard Rex and Mitch taste testing it this afternoon.”
Sir Oliver burst out laughing. “Lacy, I’ve not had this much fun in ages. The next time you’re in London, you must allow me to take you to lunch at my club.”
Pretending to ignore Mrs. Hyde’s outrage and not thumbing my nose at her wasn’t easy, but I managed it. “How kind, Sir Oliver.”
“Call me Ollie.” He lowered his voice and glanced at the bishop who was manfully soothing the fuming Mrs. Hyde. “You know, Lacy, erm, that photo of you on the garden bench,” he went a little pink, “I thought it was stunning.”
I stifled the laughter that was bubbling up. Rex had been antsy about his posh mates discovering who I was, thinking they’d be disapproving. But there I was, meeting secret fans left, right and centre. It’s all that caning and flogging at public school; it’s turned the upper crust into full-blown kinks.
“I don’t suppose,” my new mate Ollie whispered, “that you might grant me an autographed copy?”
I winked at him. “Seeing we’re friends, I’ll send you my portfolio.”
Chapter Twelve
Rex
“We turned out every drawer, every cupboard and checked under the mattress,” Mitch said, “but we didn’t find it.”
“Hell, what’s the damn thing worth?” I was digging through my desk, looking for the invoice sent by the cleaning company. Without it, I couldn’t complete the accounts.
“Twenty thousand quid.”
“She’s certain she left it here?”
“She says she tucked it in her bedside drawer.” Mitch was scratching his head worriedly. “But we checked, and it’s empty.”
“We’ve only her word that she left it there and as she was smashed every day by lunchtime, I’d hesitate to trust her word.” My desk was piled with papers, and I couldn’t find what I needed. “Check again and if you can’t find it, tell her to contact her insurance.”
“Mrs. Hyde is well named” Mitch sighed. “She accused the staff of stealing it. She says that if we don’t hand it back immediately, she’ll call Scotland Yard and damn us in the media. Maximum exposure, she said.”
“If she tries it, I’ll fucking bury the bitch.”
Mitch grinned. “She’s not in the MC, Rex. Thumping her is not an option.”
“You sure? Because she deserves it.” Yes, I was in a filthy mood. It had been a long and stressful weekend, and having Nathara Hyde hound us for her lost brooch wasn’t helping. Seeing she was a keen social media poster, an influencer among a certain crowd, I didn’t want her mouthing off. “I’ll phone her and tell her to back off.”
“Brianne’s having another look,” Mitch informed me. “She might find it.”
“Okay, let’s hope she does. How’s she working out?”
“She’s a good worker. And the feedback this weekend was excellent.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I’ll go help her look,” Mitch said. “Just one more sweep. Just in case.”
“The silly cow probably stuffed it in her handbag and was too pixelated to remember.” But I was talking to an empty room. Digging through a pile of papers, I found the missing invoice, added the total to my spreadsheet and instantly found myself five thou in the red. “Fuck.”
“I know you love money, but that’s no way to get it into bed.” Lacy strolled in, relaxed and cheerful. She was wearing the polka dot dress, and as always, she looked terrific.
Without thinking about it, I smiled at her. “Where have you been?”
“I went to check on my ceiling.”
She had a guilty look, and it took me a second to figure out why. “What? I thought you were spending the day sunbathing!” When she produced a shopping bag, it dawned on me that she’d sneaked off again, putting herself in danger. “You left Perdition?”
A few days before, I would have locked the gates behind her, cheering all the way. But the weekend party had changed my mind.
At first, I’d practically had a heart attack as she’d teased both the bishop and me. But I’d laughed when she’d let us both off the hook and then cheered when she’d charmed him so thoroughly that I’d not had another moment’s trouble with him.
In fact, Lacy had proved a considerable asset. She’d been shy the first night, but she’d been a laugh and a half on the sailing trip the day after, and when it had rained on the Sunday, she’d started a game of adult-themed charades that had all the guests in stitches.
“Such a clever girl,” Lady Prescott said afterwards.
“She’s good fun,” Sir Oliver agreed, adding with a sideways look at Mrs. Hyde, “and not a bad word to say about anyone.”
Lady Constance, Ulke, Freddie, and my godfather had raved over Lacy too. Much to my surprise, she proved a hit.
Now, at the thought of what Pig would do to her, I shuddered. “For God’s sake, don’t just go off. Stop and think!”
“Don’t have a hissy fit,” Lacy sighed. “I’m here, safe and sound.”
“Considering you were terrified, and begging for protection just a few days ago, I’m amazed.”
Lacy was a little pink. “I had to go, Rex. I had to check on my cottage. The workmen needed to see me.”
She no sense of self-preservation. I resolved to alert the gate crew she wasn’t to pass without protection. “Next time, take Viper.”
“So, you like me, huh?” Lacy said.
“No, I just don’t want trouble.”
“Pooh,” Lacy wasn’t fooled. “You do like me.”
I spotted a comma in the spreadsheet that should have been a decimal point. It took a second to correct and then, like magic, all the numbers came together. “Aha!” The weekend had netted us £15,000, a nice profit for a couple of days work.
“Orgasmic noises,” Lacy giggled. “You making money, Rex?”
“Thankfully, yes.”
“Good.”
I watched her put the kettle on, and it struck me she was thoroughly at home. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. When I’d thought about having a girl of my own, I’d never imagined Lacy. Yet, though she drove
me up the wall, I liked having her around.
“Now your party is over, can we focus on me?” Lacy was back on track.
Ironically, I heard myself cast back, “I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
Lacy shrugged. “I need to get back to my life.”
When she was gone, I wouldn’t miss her. She was way too much trouble to have around. Also, her rubbing me up the wrong way was okay in the short term, but it would eventually drive me nuts. Yes, I talked up a good silent game, but I wasn’t quite convincing myself. I knew the house would feel empty with her gone.
“Rex, you promised.” Lacy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You’re not stringing me along, are you?”
Her distrust put my back up. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m as keen for you to go as you are.”
At that point, Mitch and Brianne came back in. They’d heard us argue, I could tell by the way Brianne glared at Lacy, but Mitch was too diplomatic to let it show.
I turned to Mitch, “Did you find it?”
“Hey,” Lacy interrupted coldly. “We weren’t finished.”
Fighting rising irritation, I snarled quietly, “The executive will be here in an hour.”
“Fine,” her tone was icier than glaciers. “Glad to hear it.”
I turned deliberately to Mitch who was still pretending all was well, even though Brianne’s eyes were on stalks with curiosity. “You didn’t find it, then?”
Mitch shook his head. “We turned the room inside out. It’s not there.”
“Damn.”
“Oh, did a guest lose something?” Lacy was quick on the uptake as usual.
“Mrs. Hyde misplaced her diamond ring.”
Lacy’s eyes widened. “That rock must be worth a fortune. What happened?”
Mitch explained while I called Nathara. “I hear you lost a ring.”
“One of the staff stole it,” she squawked. “I hold you responsible.”
I held on to my temper. “My people don’t steal. Are you sure you last saw it in your room? Can you check through your things again?”
But Nathara was on a right royal rant. “Don’t put this on me, Rex Winslow! Give it back, or I will tell the world about you!”
I snapped and put her in her place. “Nathara, if I hear you’re trashing me or my business, I’ll bury you.”
“How dare you threaten me!”
“Have you forgotten who I am?”
Apart from being a bitch, Nathara Hyde was an avid gossip, the type who hears the news that never makes it to the press. The horrified pause told me she was remembering exactly who she was messing with. “Oh, come on,” she said weakly. “We’ve known each other for years.”
“Business is business. I won’t stand for anyone fucking me over.” I remembered she was thick and spelled it out for her. “Two months ago you were gifted with an Issey Miyake handbag worth thousands when you went to Japan with Ludo on a junket. Also, the Yanks have just sent you a neat bay hunter. They want you to persuade Ludo to look kindly on a new trade treaty.”
Nathara Hyde didn’t say a word, but I knew she was frightened. It probably never occurred to her that I might be privy to her dirty little secrets.
“There are rules about government representatives accepting expensive gifts,” I reminded her.
At the thought of the scandal and the massive fines she’d incur, she was so scared that I could hear her sweat. “Rex, for God’s sake, you’d ruin Ludo too.”
“Just like you’re trying to ruin me.”
“I’ll not say a word,” she said instantly.
“Good.”
“Oh God, I may have said a few things on Twitter.”
“I’ll deal with fallout but only if it stops now.”
Her answer was swift relief. “Yes, promise, Rex. I’ll go curate my social media feeds straight away.”
“We’ll keep looking. I’ll call if we find it.”
By the time I hung up, Lacy was giving me a hard look. “That was brutal.”
“She threatened me.”
Lacy rolled her eyes. “All threats must be exterminated?”
“Exactly.” I meant it, too. “I’m not having some bloody woman ruin everything I’ve built.”
Mitch was nodding. “It’s irresponsible,” he stated. “Rex doesn’t just employ his own staff; a lot of local businesses rely on him too.”
Lacy gave up. “When we have shoots on the beach, we’re always losing keys, clips, earrings and other little items,” she mused. “We use a metal detector.”
“Great idea,” Mitch enthused. “Meadows is into treasure hunting. He’s working the gate today.”
“What if it’s not lost but stolen?” Brianne was twitchy. “I think someone’s been in my bag too.”
“You think?” Mitch frowned.
“Well, I went to the bank and got five brand new tenners,” Brianne said nervously. “At the end of the day, I had just four. At the time, I thought the bank made a mistake or that I might have dropped one.”
“You think someone went into your bag and nicked one bill, hoping you’d not notice?” Mitch asked appalled.
“It might have been an accident,” but Brianne’s tone said she didn’t believe that. “It was the first day of the music fest.” Then, shuffling her feet, she added, “But I came up short again on Friday.”
Petty theft is common when you have sub-contractors coming in and out, and god knows we had caterers, cleaners, and more running in and out to prepare for the weekend. But the way Brianne glanced at Lacy, revealed her suspicions.
Lacy stiffened instantly. “Oh, it’s me, is it?”
“I didn’t say that,” Brianne replied.
She was carefully neutral, but we all knew what she was thinking. Lacy bristled, ready to fire up and blast her.
I put a stop to it before it started. “I’ll deal with this.” I frowned Lacy down and addressed Brianne. “Seeing you had brand new bills from the bank, ask if they noted the serial numbers.” They wouldn’t, but it would keep her busy. “And don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”
Brianne nodded. “Of course.” Then, with an unloving glance at Lacy, “We don’t need more trouble.”
“Get stuffed, you silly cow!”
Brianne would’ve snapped back, but Mitch was on his feet, pulling her along. “Come on. Rex will sort it. Let’s go see Meadows.”
As they left, Lacy was still fulminating. “That’s a nasty piece of work you have there, Rex. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were lying about that missing money.”
“Why would she do that?”
Lacy rolled her eyes. “To get rid of me, moron. You must see she’s got a thing for you.”
“No, she’s just ambitious.”
“Her one ambition is to get into your knickers,” Lacy sighed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if tenners started appearing under my pillow.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Possibly. But now, let’s get back to what’s important: what about Jason?”
I should’ve paid more attention, but I didn’t want to know. So, I welcomed the change of subject. “Actually, I’ve been thinking.”
“A dangerous thing to do,” Lacy quipped, but she was smiling. “Go on.”
“Barrows used to work through an agent, but they fell out a year or so ago. It seems Barrows got drunk too often and pissed off too many buyers.”
“That’s Jason,” Lacy sighed. “He’s always liked a drink, and he’s a nasty drunk.”
“It seems he cut out the personal element entirely. He now sells his photos online via an image database company.”
“Twisted and Spanked use his photos all the time,” Lacy nodded. “I bet his photos sell worldwide.”
“He got some attention from Japan, and we know he was in Tokyo for three months.”
“His geisha series was huge.”
“I think he got in with the Yakuza.”
“Japanese organised crime?” Lacy asked wide-eyed.
&nb
sp; “They run the sex trade, and they love money. That photonovel may be their project.”
Lacy was thinking. “But he came back here.”
“A British project would get them into the European market. It would also work for North America.”
“The Yakuza,” Lacy shivered. “They’re the ones who chop off their fingers when they’ve messed up? To say they’re sorry?”
“Yes, they’re total utter nutters.”
Lacy swallowed. “So, when I walked, Jason had to answer to them.”
“I think so.”
“No wonder he’s mad at me. For God’s sake, why didn’t he just tell me?”
“I’m just guessing,” I reminded her. “I may be wide of the mark.”
“Probably not,” Lacy sighed. “This is exactly the kind of shit Jason would get into.”
“Hmm, well, if he’s hiding from the Yakuza, it’ll be hard to find him. We know he left his place in Lincoln two days after you walked. After that, he was in London, but then he disappeared. We think he went abroad.”
Lacy frowned. “I totally forgot, but Jason’s got a Masters from the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Maybe he’s gone there?”
“Possibly.” I picked up my phone. “Let me check.”
I got through quickly enough and was put through to the admissions department. “Madame, je vous téléphone d’Angleterre...”
Lacy listened with wide eyes. When I hung up, she was smiling, “I had no idea you spoke French. Sexy!”
“Unfortunately, the news isn’t good; they’ve never heard of Jason Barrows.”
“But I saw his Masters,” Lacy exclaimed. “I picked the certificate up from the floor on the day the police came and raided his cottage.”
“Are you sure you got the name of the school right?”
Lacy nodded. “Oh yes. You see, that studio in Paris that gives me work sometimes is right across the street from the École. I recognised it at once.”
I had a flash of intuition. It was a crazy idea. Still... “Does Barrows have a sideline in forgery?”
Lacy frowned, thinking it over. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “He’s not straight, I mean, he always demands kickbacks from my fees.”