by JL Simpson
Daisy smiled. “The day you lifted me out of the gutter.”
“The day I found the woman of my dreams, minus a heel.”
Daisy glanced down the hallway toward the kitchen. “I hope you haven’t gone to too much trouble.”
Paul pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she could hardly breathe and her legs turned to jelly. “Sherman is sleeping over at Ben’s tonight, and nothing is ever too much trouble for you.”
Arms wrapped around him, she toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m sorry.” She let out a loud sigh.
Paul frowned. “What am I missing?”
“I’ve got a lead on the stolen dog. Solomon’s taking me to Bristol tonight, so we can take a look around before we go to the dog show tomorrow.”
Paul ran his hands down her back, and palmed her backside. “Can’t you just go to the dog show in the morning? Bristol’s not that far away. You can set off early. I’ll drive you, and we can meet up with Solomon for breakfast.”
The last thing she needed was Paul tagging along. She couldn’t keep her mind on the job, if he was close by, and who knew what might get mentioned. If he found out about Nobby and they all got distracted, someone could die.
“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t. I have to do this. I have to solve this case on my own.”
Paul scowled with anger. “You mean with Solomon.”
“Yes, with Solomon. I have to prove to him that I can do this.”
“What about me?”
Daisy wriggled out of his embrace, and planted her hands on her hips. “Do I have to prove something to you? I thought you were comfortable with me being an heir hunter.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I am. I’m just not comfortable that my wife is seeing more of my best mate than she is of me.”
Daisy’s anger melted. She reached down to pop the snap on Paul’s jeans. “I’m not seeing more of him, because there isn’t more of him to see.”
“And you would know that, wouldn’t you?”
She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I would, after he flashed us both in the kitchen.”
Paul’s eyes darkened with desire, as Daisy slipped her hand inside his shirt and ran a finger around his left nipple. “He is a sad looking specimen, isn’t he?”
“Do you want to talk about Solomon’s inadequacies, or celebrate our anniversary before he comes to collect me?”
Paul growled, as he dragged Daisy into the living room and tumbled them both onto the sofa.
Daisy giggled with delight. “You’d better not leave your underpants on top of the telly. I’m not sure Sherman has recovered from finding them after the last time you got frisky in the living room.”
Paul grinned. “We don’t get frisky. We don’t do sex. Sherman says so.”
“So what’s that digging into my belly?”
Paul tugged at her clothing. “Get undressed, and I’ll show you.”
Daisy squealed, as Paul got busy.
*
Solomon shoved a change of clothes and his toiletries into an overnight bag. He’d dropped Candy’s dog off at the pound, and collected Molly from Daisy’s friend’s house. She was playing downstairs with Rosebud. She’d asked when she could see mummy and clung to him crying when he’d lifted her into her car seat. He was so busy trying to protect his little angel, he barely had any time to spend with her. Once this was over, he was going to give her his full attention. He needed to sort out the custody issue with Lisa, and then they would all be able to get on with their lives.
He couldn’t go away to Bristol without being sure Molly was safe. Mavis would be perfect, but he’d promised she could be in on any arrest. Paul would be a good choice, but the man might not want to babysit a little girl so that Solomon could spend the night with his wife. Solomon was stuck. Molly would be safest at home, but he couldn’t leave her alone. With a sigh of resignation, he tugged his phone from his pocket and dialed Lisa’s number.
The phone rang half-a-dozen times, before she answered. “What do you want?”
“Can we not be civil?”
“You’ve stolen my daughter.”
“I’ve done no such thing. Who else was going to keep her safe from the mess you’ve got yourself involved in?”
“I would have sorted it out.”
“Well, now you’ve no need to.”
“What does that mean? What have you done?” Her voice shook with panic.
“Nothing. Where are you hiding out?”
“Like I would tell you.”
“You’re not safe.”
“Of course I’m not, you fucking moron.”
Solomon sighed. “I’d prefer you mind your language, when you’re around Molly.”
“I’m not around her. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. She’s safe. Do you want to see her?”
“I can’t. If they find me and I’ve got her with me, we’ll both die.”
“No one is going to find you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Can you get a cab?”
“Why?”
“Get a cab to the pub in Brockenhurst. I’ll be waiting in the car park for you.”
“And then what?”
“And then you can come and stay at my house with Molly, until this is all sorted out. No one can compromise my security system, and Molly would love to spend time with her ma.”
“Why are you doing this?” Lisa sounded wary.
Solomon scrubbed his hand over his short hair. No matter how he felt about Lisa she was the mother of his child, and for that reason alone they needed to learn to get along together. If something happened to Lisa, Molly would be devastated, and he’d risk his very life to spare Molly grief. “I’m not the heartless beast you think I am.”
“But I’m the heartless drug addicted cow you know I am.” Lisa’s voice broke on a sob.
“Dan Maloney tells me you’ve signed up for rehab.”
“I’ll still be heartless.”
“Can’t we try, for Molly’s sake?”
“Why do you care, Solomon? She’s not yours. You know she’s not.”
“She’s the child of my heart. I loved her the moment I set eyes on her. Why can’t you let me be the da she needs?”
“I won’t give her up.”
“Do you love her?”
“Yes. I know I fucked up. I know I’m a crap mother.”
“Let’s try again.”
“You and me?” She sounded horrified.
Solomon chuckled. He would have reacted the same way, had Lisa been the one making the suggestion. “You and me, working together to raise Molly. Nothing more.”
“Thank Christ. You might be a great fuck, but I can’t cope with all the righteous bullshit rules you live your life by.”
“So can you catch a cab?”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Daisy rolled over and bumped against a warm body. She wrapped an arm around Paul’s middle, and snuggled closer.
“Morning, Princess.”
She screamed and leapt from the bed, landing face first on the rug, as she struggled to free her legs from the tangle of sheets. She climbed to her feet. “What the fuck are you doing in my bed, you stupid Irish git?”
Solomon pushed up on his elbows, and flashed a lopsided smile at her. He picked her up the night before, and they’d stopped by his house to fix her disguise, before setting off for Bristol. Solomon had schmoozed the woman organizing the dog show into showing them around the venue. Fiona, who looked like Barbara Cartland’s younger sister, fell all over Solomon as she gave them the guided tour, even though he introduced Daisy as his wife, Scarlet.
It was late when they finally booked into the hotel. Solomon insisted they share a room, so that he could ensure her safety, and she was too tired to argue. After eating a dinner they ordered from room service, Daisy collapsed into bed wearing a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, but only after extracting a promise from Solomon that he’d wear his jeans a
nd sleep on the sofa.
When she’d wrapped her arm around him a minute ago, he’d definitely been topless, and she couldn’t recall feeling any other clothing on him. Not that her hand had wandered far enough south to be sure. God, if he hadn’t spoken, she could have… She would have… Paul definitely would have been ready for a replay of their passionate tussle on the sofa the night before, but he wasn’t Paul.
She folded her arms over her chest, to hide her assets. The room was cold, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. She let her anger seep into her voice. “I asked you what you’re doing in my bed.”
“Technically, it’s our bed, seeing as we checked in as a couple.”
“Don’t be a smart arse.”
His smile got bigger. “The sofa’s lumpy and too short. I figured you wouldn’t mind sharing, seeing as you were already asleep.” He shuffled to the edge of the bed.
Daisy held her hand up. “Don’t move.”
“I’m needing the bathroom.”
“Are you wearing any pants?”
He chuckled. “What do you think?”
“I’m not thinking anything.”
He pushed to his feet, and she squealed and closed her eyes.
“It’s safe, Princess. I’m all covered up. I’m going to shower and get ready, and then you can do the same.”
She opened one eye, and then the other when she saw he was wearing white boxer briefs. Not as covered up as she’d like, but at least he was decent, and seemed ready to make a start on the day’s adventures.
Daisy frowned. “We will have backup, won’t we?”
Solomon stopped on his way across the room, and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t you be worrying your pretty little self, my darling Scarlet. I’ve got it all under control.”
Daisy watched him disappear into the bathroom. Her stomach growled, and she contemplated breakfast. It was already after eight, and they were due to meet the buyer at ten thirty, but she couldn’t work without something substantial to eat. If she waited for Solomon to order room service, they’d be getting muesli or some other healthy shit. A girl needed carbs to burn, if she was going to be in danger. Besides, if she was going to risk her life, why worry about her health? She could hear water splashing in the shower, as she checked the menu. Nothing on offer appealed. Last night the receptionist mentioned there was a cute little bakery right next door to the hotel. If she was quick, she could be back before Solomon even missed her.
Decision made, she shucked her t-shirt, snapped on her favorite hot-pink bra, slipped a jumper that had been lying on the sofa over her head, and pulled on her sweat pants, socks, and a pair of boots. A glance in the mirror confirmed it wasn’t her best look, but needs must. She attempted to tug a brush through her unwieldy hair, before grabbing her bag and sneaking out of the room.
*
Solomon tipped his head back, to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. Once he was dressed, he’d call Dan and Mavis. They’d confirmed police would be all over the venue. Maybe he should have tried harder to convince Daisy to stay home, and taken up Mavis’s offer to swap places with her. He’d promised Paul he’d keep her safe, but the task was all but impossible, if she refused to stay out of things. If he was perfectly honest, on some level he was happy to have Daisy to work with. The truth was he trusted her—not to do as she was told, but to be on his side. Mavis had her own agenda, wanting a career move to detective from uniform. When you were focused on the reward, not the operation, things could go horribly wrong.
The police knew who Solomon suspected, and if he was right, the culprit would be under arrest before he got anywhere close to Daisy. There were no real jewels to hand over to a buyer, and no deal going down. Once the killer was flushed out into the open, he’d be under arrest. Dan confirmed they had enough DNA evidence from the scene of Candy’s house to charge him with murder. If he had any sense, he would tell the police exactly what he’d gotten involved in, and where the Polish smugglers could be found. Not that Solomon was sure there would be any Polish companions. He flicked the taps off and got dried, before wrapping a towel around his waist and heading back to the bedroom. He needed clothes.
The room was empty. “Daisy? Daisy? Where the feck are you?”
Stupid question. If she wasn’t in the room, she’d bleedin’ well gone out.
* * * * *
Daisy tapped her foot impatiently, as the elevator made its way down to the lobby. It seemed everyone staying in the hotel had decided to leave en masse. She had more than one funny look. The black stiletto heeled boots probably didn’t go with the pink sweat pants and Solomon’s dark blue sweater from last night. It was too big for her, and smelled of male cologne. That, combined with the wild hair she hadn’t been able to tame, probably had people thinking she’d just crawled out of some man’s bed.
The elevator came to a halt on the ground floor. Daisy bolted across the lobby and out the front door before the elevator had finished opening. She slowed outside the bakery, and admired the window display
Fresh loaves sprinkled with sesame seeds vied for attention next to brown wholemeal rolls and decadent cream filled pastries. Leaving the hotel for breakfast had been the right decision. Solomon probably wouldn’t agree when he discovered she’d snuck out. She knew he was looking out for her safety, but sometimes he could be a little too uptight. After all, if he was that worried the operation would put her life at risk he would never have agreed to her being involved.
Solomon wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Nope. Not on his watch. Whatever he’d planned, she would be perfectly safe, and once the case was solved, life could go back to normal. She missed normal. Normal was curling up on the sofa with Paul, to watch TV. Normal was telling him about her day. She hadn’t been able to share much of the current case with him, thanks to Nobby’s involvement. And speaking of Nobby, normal wasn’t finding out your husband kept secrets about his past from you. A sigh escaped her. They needed a full and frank discussion, when she got home.
She pushed open the door to the bakery, and stepped inside. The yeasty scent of warm bread made her stomach growl.
The dark haired young guy behind the counter smiled at her. “Morning. What can I get for you?”
Daisy pointed at the display cabinet. “Two of the Danish pastries and two chocolate doughnuts, please.”
The shop assistant put them in a paper bag, and took the cash she offered.
Once she had her change, she picked up the bag and smiled. “Thanks.”
“See you later.”
Daisy juggled her change, her handbag, and breakfast as she pushed the door open with her backside. She stumbled when the door was suddenly pulled open. She, tottered backward a couple of steps, and bumped into someone. Something hard dug into the small of her back, and a familiar voice growled in her ear, “Don’t say a word, and smile.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Solomon tossed his wet towel across the room, and struggled to pull his black jeans up his damp legs. He was going to fecking well kill Daisy when he found her, if their suspect hadn’t done it first. As he pulled his pants up over his hips, someone banged on the door. It was no subtle tap from housekeeping, and clearly not Daisy, who had a keycard. He crossed the room, and peered out the spyhole into an apparently empty corridor. Either someone had thumped the door and left, or they were standing out of his line of sight. He guessed the latter. If he hadn’t involved the police he could have brought his gun with him. Now he would have to face whatever was coming, without the comfort of a weapon. Innocent people had no reason to hide.
He braced himself against the door, before opening it just enough to peer around the edge. A man stepped out of the shadows, and Solomon let out the breath he’d been holding. Not Daisy and not the boogeyman, but Solomon wasn’t sure this early morning visitor was much better.
*
Daisy’s loose change clattered to the pavement, rolling in all directions as she attempted to comply with her attacker’s demands and keep hold of the b
ag of cakes. If the bastard had a gun, and was intent on killing her, she would die filled with chocolate doughnuts, and to hell with dieting. Paul could keep the coffin closed for viewing, if she looked too fat—what was she thinking? She could die before the food ever made it to her hips. Paul… God, she’d miss him and Sherman. Who would take care of Sherman?
“Walk to van. No tricks.”
She did as she was told, glancing around to see if there was any hope of rescue. It was still early, and other than the occasional car whizzing past with a driver hell bent on going somewhere, the street outside the hotel was empty. Even if she screamed or made a fuss, no one would hear and come to her rescue, and if the thing stuck in her ribs was a gun, she’d be dead before she hit the tarmac. She should have taken the breakfast options on the menu. If she got out of this alive, she’d eat a healthy diet as penance for being stupid enough to leave the hotel on her own.
When Solomon got out of the shower and discovered the empty room, he’d go mental and come looking for her. If she could slow the gunman down, she might have a chance.
She crossed the road toward the white panel van. If she got inside, it was all over. She should’ve taken the opportunity to leave him crippled for life when she had it. “I know what you want, and I don’t have it.”
“Maybe I want that you die a slow, painful death.”
Daisy glanced over her shoulder. Bogdan’s sickening grin left no doubt that her slow, painful death would be a thing of joy, as far as he was concerned.
If she was going to get out of this she needed a plan, but more than anything, she needed to slow things down. “I’m sorry for kicking you in the bollocks, but you were killing Solomon. Can’t we play nice? I’ve apologized.”
“Not accepted.” He shoved her harder, and the toe of her right boot hit the edge of a metal drain cover. A drain cover had sparked her romance with Paul. Maybe a drain cover could save her life. She slammed her left foot down in the middle of the grate, until her heel caught between the slats and she came to sudden stop.