There was a rap on his study door. Kurt sat heavily into his chair.
“Yeah,” he said.
Stuart stepped into the room. “Mr Lynch.”
“Yes, Stuart.” He leaned back as he watched Drew Patterson continue to fuck his wife.
Stuart refrained from looking at the monitor, his discomfort evident in his posture.
“She’s hot, isn’t she?” Kurt said nonchalantly. He scratched his brow. “Send a copy of the video to Drew Patterson. Let him know if he doesn’t budge on that contract on the dam, his wife and especially the senate might be interested in a special screening.”
“Yes, Mr Lynch.”
Stuart turned to leave.
“By the way, have you received any word on Ricky Prescott?”
“Everyone’s on the hunt for him in Boston.”
“Keep an eye on Bartlett’s widow. She could prove us lucky for once.”
Eric waited patiently at the coffee shop. The little shop was relatively quiet at this time in the evening. It would close in at least two hours and this meant he would have to be polite but succinct in his questions.
He perked his lips, his thoughts running over the bounty looming over him. He would have to hand it to Kurt Lynch. The man had assessed him so accurately. The moment Bobby had told him about Mike Bartlett, his murder had nagged his conscience, following him like a bad smell. He had to find out if there was any truth to Bartlett’s daughter’s rape. And who better than to ask Mrs Amber Bartlett for all the sordid details.
The door opened and a frail woman stepped inside the shop. Her eyes wandered about it before resting on him. They narrowed as she contemplated whether it was he she was supposed to meet.
Eric nodded and she walked cautiously over to him. The dark circles around her eyes told him she probably hadn’t had a decent sleep in a long time. Her dark hair was tied back into a tight ponytail. Perhaps almost as tight as the stresses she was under.
“Mrs Bartlett,” Eric said standing up to greet her.
“And you are?” she asked as she took his hand to shake it.
“Kevin Wright,” Eric lied. He didn’t want her tracking Kurt Lynch’s death to him later. He signaled to a waitress and ordered her a cup of coffee.
“You said you had some information for me?” she said, slipping into a chair across him.
Direct. She didn’t like wasting time, did she? His temples pulsed. He could understand why. It had been two years since her husband’s death. She wanted answers and she wasn’t get any.
“I can get evidence that Kurt Lynch was the reason behind your husband’s death,” he said.
“What’s in it for you?” she asked suspiciously.
He let out a puff of air, drumming his fingers nervously on the table. “One more bastard put away. I hate pedophiles.”
“You know about the rape.” She paled. “How did you? I … never… told anyone about it.”
“Kurt Lynch is as crooked as anyone can get. But he’s crossed the line when he puts his finger on a fourteen year old.”
Her tears streamed down her cheeks. “She was fourteen then. Full of life and the future. I’ve been fighting so hard to help her move past it since then.”
His fingers gripped the ear of his coffee mug. “Could you tell me what happened?”
She dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “Are you a reporter?”
“No, I’m not. But what I’ve heard about the incident are rumors. I’d rather hear the facts. When I do give you Kurt Lynch, I want to be sure I’ve done it with a clear conscience.”
She let out a sigh. “What difference does it make whether you’re a reporter or not? You know much of it anyway. Besides, you are the first person agreeing to help me with this. No one else will even touch this case with a ten foot pole.”
The waitress placed her coffee on the table and continued on to another table. Amber took a sip of her coffee, glad for the soothing warmth it gave her.
“Mike worked for Kurt Lynch,” she started. “He seemed like the perfect boss at the time. He was always so generous and kind. It was a water dam project and Mike was contracted to draft the plans. Association turned into friendship and soon we were meeting up for more than just business. One day we all planned to go up to the Canadian Rockies for a skiing holiday. My daughter, Carrie came along with us. She loved skiing and we couldn’t imagine not taking her with us. We stayed at Kurt’s holiday home. It was a beautiful timber house overlooking the ski resort and we absolutely enjoyed the first few days. But then we discovered a close friend had passed away so suddenly. We were preparing to make a hasty flight back but Carrie didn’t want to leave so early. She was insisting on staying and Kurt was more than happy to indulge. I just want you to know that Mike and I… we weren’t irresponsible parents. You see, Kurt and Carrie had shared such a beautiful relationship… almost like an uncle and niece. He used to shower her with gifts and all the attention he could give her; taking her out to concerts and cinemas. And she had always been safe with him all through those times. So we naturally thought none of it when we left Carrie there with Kurt at the Rockies.” She stopped, her lips trembling as her mind delved into the more painful of her memories. “After returning from the Rockies, I began to notice that Carrie was in a consistent dark and pensive mood. I at first dismissed it as a possible crush on some guy she must have met there, but then a few months later I found scars on her wrist. She was cutting herself. I began prodding her for reasons but she wouldn’t tell me. Both Mike and I were at a loss. We didn’t know what to do anymore. It took her about a year to open up and make some mention of that incident. Mike wouldn’t believe it and this widened the already wide rift between father and daughter. But I guess there was that father in him that just couldn’t ignore the cries of his little girl. He drove up to visit Kurt in New York. And he never came back. He was found dead three days later.” She sniveled into her napkin. “I don’t know what happened between Kurt and Mike. Mike said he would tell me all about it when he got home. The last time he called me was to tell me that he was meeting Kurt at a club.” She shook her head adamantly. “I know Kurt had something to do with Mike’s death. I just know it.”
“Why won’t you tell the cops about your daughter’s rape?” he asked slowly.
“It would be difficult to prove and it isn’t like Kurt is willing to give a confession.” She swallowed. “Carrie still blames herself for her father’s death and she is afraid she might lose me too. She would never come forward with the rape.”
They grew quiet for a while, each giving the other some time to digest all she had said.
“If you were given a choice, would you rather Kurt Lynch dead or gone to prison?” he asked at last.
She lifted her gaze, surprised by his question. It was obvious she had never been asked that by anyone.
She gave a sarcastic grunt. “It’s not like I have either of those choices available to me.” Her tears welled in her eyes again and she paused. “Dead. I would rather him dead.”
She scrunched the napkin, balling her hand into a fist. He covered her hands with his own, squeezing them gently.
CHAPTER 21
Anne extended her cane and turned towards the elevator doors.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Anne,” Ellen called out to her.
“Bye, Ellen.” Anne smiled. Despite working so uncomfortably close to Nicholas, she was beginning to enjoy being part of the team. She was looking forward to seeing her mother’s monument resurrect from the draft plans she had worked so tremendously hard to help create.
She felt for the elevator buttons to usher it down to her floor. A palm covered hers.
“Going down?” Nicholas asked.
She swallowed as she hastily pulled her hand away. She thought he had left the office a while ago. When had he returned?
“Yes, thank you,” she mumbled. He stood too suffocating close to her and she simply had to move away.
They stood silently as they waited for the elevator.
The doors finally swished open with a ding. They stepped into it together and she still could feel him standing by her side. His arms brushed hers occasionally, sending goosebumps through her body.
“Anne, do you mind if I drop you off at your house?” he asked.
She played unconsciously with the head of her cane. The man had been nothing short of polite and courteous all the while she had been working with him. He should not be punished only because their fathers had conspired in a plot to have them married. He was not at fault just as much as she wasn’t. Perhaps, it was her turn now to take a step forward towards friendship.
She nodded. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”
She counted the floors and they had just passed the ground floor, moving further down to the basement where his car was probably parked.
She sat quietly at his side, leaning heavily onto the front passenger door.
Night lights brightened up the city. Traffic whizzed by as people went about their business, the headlights of their cars adding to the evening glow of the city.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes… yes, thank you,” she muttered. She palmed her brow. “I’m just tired.”
He returned his attention to the road ahead of him. They sat in silence again as he drove on towards her house.
His heart beat rose slightly at the thought of seeing her home. He had finally edged his way into her heart. He wondered if he might be able to sneak a kiss in as well. Too fast? He ran a hand through his hair. Yeah, probably not tonight.
Her phone buzzed and she reached for it inside her bag. Honey… honey… It was that same ringtone again. He frowned, curious now about this ‘honey’.
“Hello,” she said into the phone. “Yeah, I am on my way... A friend is dropping me off… Don’t worry, Eric. I am already half-way home. See you in a bit?”
Eric? He scrunched his mouth. He hoped that that was an uncle. Or a butler. He glanced back at her. Her smiled had lit up her face when she said bye. She was certainly looking forward to this man, whoever he was.
“Lucy?” He deliberately prodded. “She still religiously chases after you?”
She chuckled. “You still remember.” She nodded. “Yes, that she still does. But that was not her on the phone. It was my boyfriend, Eric. Eric Tanner. We live together so he does get worried when I don’t get back home on time.”
His heart clamped at the mere mention of the word ‘boyfriend’. His eyes grew steely and cold as he did his best to focus on the road ahead. He was just a boyfriend, he told himself. And that didn’t mean she would be with him forever.
But when he glanced back at her, she was smiling. The corners of her lips were lifted up and her face was brightened from the feelings she had for this man. An idiot could tell she was in love.
“Nicholas?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said with as much nonchalance as possible.
“I thought I lost you there.” Her fingers fidgeted. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked slowly.
He cleared the lump in his throat. Yes, he had one a long time ago. But he had never loved her. They were ‘friends with carnal benefits’, as Cheryl had called it. But then he had met Philip Mullen and this only rejuvenated his dream of pursuing a relationship with Anne.
“No… not at the moment,” he said quietly.
“Oh,” she muttered. “I just remembered you having so many.”
He swiped a tired palm over his face. And that past of his could probably be the nail on his coffin. He suddenly wished he hadn’t had dated so many women; that she wouldn’t have had to remember it.
He turned the car about the end of the cul-de-sac and stopped by her house. “This is it.”
She paused, unsure of whether to open her door. “Do you want to meet Eric?”
He hesitated, not entirely keen on the idea. But his curiosity dared him to size up the man he was competing against. “Yeah, sure.”
He stepped out the car along with her and they strolled up the pathway to her house.
“You have a beautiful house,” he said.
“It’s quaint.” She smiled.
“It has charm. I really like it.”
The door opened and a tall, lean man stepped out to the front. His face was handsomely chiseled, and there was a ruggedness about him that he knew he would never achieve in the affluent lifestyle he had led all through his life. If this was his competition, it was going to be one hell of a match.
“Anne?” the man said.
“Eric,” she said with a trace of slight pride and excitement in her voice.
He reached out for her hand and she gladly clasped it to stand by his side.
“Eric, this is Nicholas. We’re working together on the project for my mother’s monument,” she introduced.
Eric arched his eyebrow and Nicholas wondered if he was going to snub him. Instead, he put out his hand. “Hello.”
They waited until Anne walked into the house.
“Don’t take too long,” she told Eric with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nicholas.”
“Goodnight, Anne,” Nicholas said.
She nodded and shut the door behind her.
Nicholas turned back to Eric. “So what did you want to talk about?”
“I know you’re not just Anne’s colleague but a good friend of the family,” Eric started.
Nicholas shifted uncomfortably. Did the man suspect that he wanted to be more than just friends with Anne?
Eric hesitated. “I’ll be out of town for a few days. And I worry a lot about Anne. I know I am being a little forward about this and Anne might probably be mad if she learns I’ve asked you this.” He licked his lips nervously. “Could you make sure she arrives home safely? I’d really appreciate it if you could just keep an eye out for her.”
Nicholas perked his lips in thought. Was the man in some trouble or was he just being protective? But the fact was that Anne was blind. Naturally, any man in love with her would be more protective of her than the normal woman. He knew because he felt just as much protective of Anne as Eric.
“What did you want to talk about with Nicholas?” Anne asked as she cuddled up to Eric on their sofa.
He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. “I just wanted to get know him. You rarely bring any friends home.”
“Is that all? And this has nothing to do with being jealous about a man dropping me home?” she teased.
He chuckled. “Well, I was a little jealous.”
“A little?” she asked with disbelief.
“Okay, a little more than a little,” he teased back, kissing her on her temples. “He seems like a good man. I’m glad you’re working amongst good people.” He caressed her hair. “I’m very proud of you, Anne.”
“I’m proud of you too,” she whispered. She lifted up a bit and kissed him on the lips.
He glanced into her eyes and wished she could see how much he cared about her. It was hard just asking Nicholas Bradley to look out for her. The very man who her father had hand selected to be her husband and protector; a man who her dad preferred more than him.
But he had to start working on eliminating Kurt Lynch from his life. And that meant twenty-four hour surveillance until that right moment. He didn’t know when or how. But he would know when he would see it. And he would be ready.
His body tensed. If they got to Anne before he got to them… He pulled in a deep breath.
“What’s wrong, Eric?” she asked, sensing the tension in him.
“Anne,” he started slowly. “I have to go to New York. There is this job-”
“You’re leaving Carl Johnson’s team?”
“No, no,” he repeated quickly. “This is something different completely. I’m just doing this thing as a personal favor for a friend.”
“You’re getting paid for this gig?”
“It is profitable.” He swallowed. It was a white lie. But if Kurt Lynch was dead, he wouldn’t have to continue looking over h
is shoulders. That had to be profitable, right?
“How long will you be gone?”
“Two, maybe three weeks at most,” he said.
She clasped his hand and leaned into his shoulder. “Promise me you will come back.”
He lifted her chin so he could see those green jade eyes again; those that had captivated him from the very first time he had seen her so many years ago. “I promise you. I’m not going anywhere, Anne. You’re… my reason for living.”
He leaned down into her and kissed her fully on the lips. She was soft. She was always so soft… and delicious.
He traced her jaw with his lips, moving achingly slow down the length of her neck. She groaned as she threaded her fingers through his hair. He gave a little kiss at the hollow base in her neck and then lifted his head.
“What?” she asked with puzzlement.
“I’ve learned Braille,” he said.
“What?” she repeated again with more confusion and then shook her head, choosing to ignore his remark. “Let’s just deal with this first.”
“I’ve learned Braille, Anne.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Yes, I have.”
She sat up, considering his statement for a while. “And who has taught you Braille?”
“This guy in the library we’re working at. He’s blind. And I sit with him during lunch so he can teach me Braille.”
“But… why? Why would you bother?”
“I want to be a part of you.”
“You already are honey.” She smiled, caressing his face.
He gently unbuttoned her shirt, exposing the top of her breasts. His breath grew raspy, sucking on her soft flesh as he inched further and further down to her nipples. His hands traveled down and under her skirt until they found her clit. He eased two fingers into her and she began to moan, grinding onto his hand.
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