by Tricia Jones
“He was with me when I was mugged,” she said, almost to herself. “He helped me afterward.” But her mind was already running over various scenarios and she couldn’t stop the chill that ran the length of her spine before settling uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. “There’s no way he has anything to do with this.”
“I hope you’re right,” her aunt agreed. “But you can’t blame your father for wanting to make sure that’s true.”
Mia’s head snapped up. “Dad knows? About the notes?”
Sylvia kept her eyes firmly on Mia’s. “I’m sorry. I let it slip.”
Which was entirely untrue. Since as far back as she could remember, Mia had always confided in her aunt and known that whatever secrets she had relayed to her were as safe as houses.
“So now he’s put two and two together and come up with this ridiculous scenario that Saul’s somehow involved?”
Sylvia hesitated, and in her reluctance to confirm that statement Mia knew there was more to it than she’d been letting on. “It’s not that simple,” her aunt finally admitted. “You need to speak with your father, Mia.”
“Oh, I intend to. Don’t worry.”
When she stood, prepared to head into the sitting room and confront him right then, Sylvia reached for her hand. “You need to trust him, darling. Believe me when I say that he’s doing what he needs to do to protect you.”
“It’s just a few stupid notes,” Mia said as much to convince herself that everyone, including herself, had been overreacting to the whole thing. “Why on earth would Saul feel the need to send them, even if he was involved in some way? What possible reason could there be for him to unnerve me? We’re seeing each other.” She waited hoping her aunt would take the inference. “He’s never been anything but kind and considerate. Never given me the slightest reason to mistrust him, or imagine that he means me harm.”
“I just think we should know more about him.” Sylvia kept hold of Mia’s hand. “Let your father deal with things. If there’s nothing to it, then no harm done.”
“No harm done? Only that after this Saul will likely decide to give me and my crazy conspiracy-theory family a wide berth.” And she hadn’t realized until then just how much she’d hate for that to happen.
“If he’s the kind of man you say he is, he’ll understand.”
“Maybe. But I doubt he’ll take too kindly to being accused of wrongdoing so readily. Besides, it’s not like dad to react so vehemently without some sort of proof. What evidence he does have is coincidental or circumstantial. It’s just not like him to be so outright rude, without good reason.”
“He has a good reason.”
Sylvia said it so quietly, yet so forcefully, that Mia sat back down. “Tell me.” She took her aunt’s other hand. It worried her to feel if tremble beneath hers. “Whatever it is, if it concerns me I have a right to know.”
Sylvia gripped her hands tightly. “Speak to your father.”
****
“You’re way off base.”
Saul planted his feet as Armstrong Freeman’s narrowed gaze bore into him. The initial insult had given way to anger and Saul clenched his teeth refusing to back down from the formidable presence of Mia’s father and his ridiculous accusations.
“Are you denying it’s an extreme coincidence that you appear in my daughter’s life at the exact same time she’s receiving cryptic notes and gifts? And that she was mugged mere minutes after meeting you?”
“Damn right that’s what I’m denying,” Saul snapped. Maybe it was time to come clean about the particular job he was in London to do. That way he could start shifting the focus and get some answers himself. “There’s a few coincidences I’d like to address of my own.”
Armstrong remained with his arms folded and Saul wondered if the man had any other way of standing. “Which are?”
“I’m in London to follow through on a political story, the subject of which has become a central player in a completely unrelated incident.” Saul waited a beat. “My question is, why would the father of the woman involved in that completely unrelated incident be involved with the subject of my political story? And why would that father accuse me of being involved when he’d know damn well Colcannon was a central player?”
Armstrong’s face tightened, then paled. His arms slipped down to his sides but his gaze never left Saul’s. “What do you know about Colcannon?”
The tight question confirmed that the politician was indeed involved in the notes being sent to Mia. In which case he had to play this one carefully. Gather what information he could without giving much away. “Enough.”
“And this story? The one you came here to cover?”
“Hearsay at this point.”
Saul wondered if the story he’d been tasked to cover was in some way connected to Mia. His antenna buzzed as Armstrong went to the door, opened it, and peered into the hall. Satisfied, he closed it firmly and stepped back into the room.
He looked at Saul, sizing him up. “How can I be sure you’re not working for Colcannon?”
Saul considered the question, the initial insult now subsiding. There was something in the man’s eyes. Concern, yes. Worry, certainly. But there was more. Fear. Saul had seen it in enough men’s eyes to last a damn lifetime. In the middle of the desert, it was an almost constant companion.
“Like I said, I’m here to cover a potential story. You can check with my editor if you prefer.”
Armstrong nodded. “Maybe I will.” He walked to the drinks cabinet in the corner and lifted a decanter, offering it in Saul’s direction.
Shit. If he’d ever needed a drink, it was now. He had the unsettling feeling that Mia was not only at the center of what was happening, but she was indeed under threat. The thought shot straight to his gut.
Armstrong poured whisky into two crystal tumblers and Saul took the one he offered. When he motioned Saul to sit, he did so, and Armstrong took the armchair opposite. He crossed one leg over the other as Saul leaned forward with his elbows between his knees. Maybe it was time for some straight talking. Mia was more important than any newspaper story.
“I met Mia at the auction,” Saul said. “I was there to bid on something for my sister and I saw Mia. I didn’t know of her before that and there’s no way our meeting was some kind of conspiracy on my part. I asked her to join me for a drink, dinner. She wasn’t interested. But then this guy came out of nowhere and ran off with her bag. I saw him but was too far away to do anything about it. By the time I got to Mia, she was shaking and upset.”
Saul sipped his drink and let the liquor hit the back of his throat, warming and offering a respite from his need to explain himself to her father. Especially since Freeman had yet to explain himself.
He looked back at Freeman, held the man’s gaze. “She told me about the notes.”
A flash of surprise came into the man’s eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by the same cool intensity which he’d demonstrated since they’d entered the living room. “What did she tell you?”
Oh, no you don’t, Saul thought, taking another sip of his drink. It’s time you coughed up some information, buddy. “How about you tell me why you met Colcannon at his men’s club?”
Again that flash, but this time Armstrong didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes lit with anger. “We knew each other. A long time ago.”
“And you just happened to run into him?”
Armstrong sipped his drink. “You could say that.”
Bullshit, Saul thought, but he kept his attention firmly on the older man. “What do you know about the ring?”
Armstrong sat back in his chair. “She told you about that, too.”
Since he said it almost to himself as a fait accompli, Saul didn’t think he needed to respond.
“It seems my daughter is the focus of attention for some admirer,” Armstrong said without conviction. “Attracted to her from afar but lacking the confidence to do anything about it. Hence, he sends her notes and gifts.”
<
br /> “You don’t think there’s any cause for concern?”
Armstrong’s momentary hesitation gave Saul the answer he needed, even before the man spoke. “The notes aren’t threatening in any way, and the gifts are innocuous enough.”
More bullshit. Saul shifted forward. “They have her spooked.”
“Understandable, but no real reason for concern on her part.”
“I’m helping her find out who sent them.”
Armstrong put his drink on the table between the two armchairs. “Something I’d strongly advise against.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s no reason to blow this whole unfortunate, but undoubtedly harmless, situation out of proportion.”
“Do you know she’s being followed?”
That stopped Armstrong in his tracks. He looked up, a snap in his eyes. “By whom?”
If I knew that buddy, I’d have hauled his ass in by now. “No idea. I’ve noticed him three times now.”
“What does he look like?”
“Tall, skinny with a small goatee.”
The release of tension was evident in Armstrong’s shoulders. It wasn’t exactly what Saul had been expecting. “That describes a good proportion of the male population of the city, I’d imagine.” The older man picked up his drink again. “Perhaps you’re seeing spooks where none exist.”
Not exactly the reaction of a concerned father, Saul thought. There was definitely more to Freeman and Colcannon’s relationship than the old friends routine the man had spun. “If you don’t mind my saying, you don’t seem too perturbed that your daughter seems to be the center of someone’s sick idea of romancing a woman.”
“My daughter is my business,” Armstrong snapped. “Kindly allow me to take care of her and put your reporter skills to work where they’re best suited.”
“When Mia tells me she doesn’t want my help, maybe I’ll do that. But until then, if she needs me, I’m here.”
“You’ve known my daughter a matter of days, and yet you feel inclined to jump right in and stir up trouble.”
“I’m not the one causing it.” Saul tipped his glass toward Armstrong. “And until I’m satisfied there’s nothing for her to be concerned about, I’ll be sticking my reporter skills into her business. If that means stirring up trouble then so-be-it. I’m not going anywhere until I get to the bottom of this. Something’s going on here and it’s more than a few notes and gifts from some lovesick admirer.”
“None of it concerns you.”
“And yet here I am.”
At the sharp tap on the door both men turned. “Like I said, none of this concerns you,” Armstrong repeated.
Saul took his cue and followed him to the door. “And like I said, I’m not going anywhere.”
Gripping the door handle, Armstrong lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper. “I’m warning you. You leave this alone.”
Yeah, like that would happen. He made to respond in no uncertain terms to the veiled threat when Armstrong touched his arm.
“If you keep pushing, you’ll put her in harm’s way.”
“What does that mean?”
Armstrong sighed. “I know who’s sending the notes. There’s no story in it, just a former work colleague Mia rejected and he thinks he can change her mind with a steady pursuit of her. Like I said, there’s no story. I’m handling everything.”
Ignoring Mia’s growing demand to be let in, the men continued to face each other. “Is he the man who’s been following her?”
Another brief hesitation, but again it gave Saul his answer. The story Freeman was giving him was the biggest load of bull he’d heard in a long time.
“Yes. But I’m handling it. He’ll be backing off now, especially since the police are involved.”
“The police are involved?”
“Mia won’t be hearing from him again, and she won’t be troubled any longer. So back off and let the police do their job.”
Before Saul could respond, Armstrong opened the door just as Mia was about to thump her fist on it again. “Mr. O’Donnell is leaving,” he said, abruptly.
“He’s my guest.” Mia moved toward Saul. “And since I haven’t actually asked him to leave, I’d like him to stay.”
Shit. He was smack bang in the middle of a pissing match between his lover and her father. Not exactly a good place for a man to be. Besides which, he needed to think, to reason, to research. “I need to get going,” he said to Mia. “It’s late and I’ve got to be at the office first thing.”
Mia hustled him out onto the porch and down the steps to the pavement. “What were you talking about? What did he say?”
“He wanted to know if my intentions were honorable.”
“Don’t play me,” she warned. “I want to know what’s going on.”
“Apparently not much. According to your dad the notes have been sent by an admirer you rejected and who thinks that a few love notes and romantic gifts can ease his way back into your affections.”
Mia’s brow furrowed. “What admirer? I haven’t rejected anyone. At least not lately.”
Saul looked up at the house, imagining Freeman was watching his every move. Well maybe he should give him some idea of just how much he thought of his daughter. Give him a real indication of his commitment to her. Saul drew Mia into his arms.
Her arms came around his neck and she snuggled in. “I’m tempted to throw caution to the wind and ask you to stay the night.”
“Oh, yeah. That’d definitely get me back into your old man’s good books.”
Mia smiled. “I’ve never asked a man to stay before. I’ve always tried to be respectful that it’s my father’s house, but the way he’s behaving I’ve a good mind to show him that I’m not some teenager he can bully around anymore.”
She nestled against him, her warm curves molded to his body, and he felt himself harden. Hell. He was almost tempted to take her up on the offer. He had the strongest impulse to lift her into his arms, sweep back up the steps, and make love to her until the sun came up. But his mother had taught him better than to get between a daughter and her father, more so to respect his elders, even if they had been lying through their teeth.
He kissed Mia, tried to ignore her tiny little moans as she sashayed against him. His body had other ideas. “You keep doing that, I might not be responsible for my actions.”
She laughed. “Let’s go back to your place.”
“And have your father come after me with a gun and noose?”
“I’m a big girl. He has to realize I make my own decisions now.”
“Why don’t you start with something less volatile than whisking a man off for sex in the middle of the night?”
“Spoilsport.”
Saul glanced up at the house again. Swore he saw the curtain move. “Yeah, but I’m a spoilsport who plans on keeping his essential parts in good working order.”
Mia laughed again, then pulled him down for a scorching kiss.
He managed to pull himself away before his hands had other ideas. “How about spending the afternoon with me tomorrow? Take a trip down to the coast, or anything else you’d like to do.”
“That’d be good. It’s supposed to be dry tomorrow and it would be nice to get out of town when the shop-early-for-Christmas brigade descends on us. But…”
“But?”
“I really do need to work in the morning, but Chelsea is playing at home tomorrow. That’s if you fancy watching some quality football while you’re here.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re a soccer fan?”
“Football,” she corrected with a smile. “I’ll have to educate you in the ways of our national sport.”
“You know something? You might just turn out to be the perfect woman.”
“Says a man about to spend his Saturday afternoon in guy heaven rather than be subjected to other girlie pastimes.”
“Can’t deny it.” After another long and indulgent kiss, Saul reluctantly extricated himself fro
m Mia’s arms. “I’ll call you.”
He walked toward the main road where he managed to hail a cab. Alone in the backseat he found himself thinking that it shouldn’t be so hard to drive away from her. He’d meant for this thing between them to be a pleasant distraction from what he considered the drudge of the political tidbit he’d been sent here to investigate. He hadn’t figured on finding another mystery to solve, and have that mystery connected, albeit loosely, to the original investigation.
And hell, he hadn’t figured on falling for the woman who was supposed to be a temporary diversion. Yet already he missed her. Had wanted to take her back to his place. Feel her warmth as he sank into her welcoming heat. Cuddle with her in the early morning. Shit. When had he started using words like cuddle?
Pushing Mia from his mind, he forced himself to play over the gist of his conversation with Freeman.
You’ll put her in harm’s way.
What the hell did that mean? If Freeman’s story about the rejected suitor was on the up, why would Saul’s pursuit of the truth put Mia in jeopardy?
Armstrong wasn’t aware that Saul knew the ring had been registered to Colcannon, so if by some stretch of the imagination the rejected suitor story was true, how in hell had some work colleague of Freeman’s gotten hold of a piece of jewelry owned by an eminent politician?
Then there was the mugging to consider and the fact that the pendant had been stolen. Surely that wasn’t the actions of a scorned suitor? Scaring her and stealing from her. What would he hope to achieve?
The whole thing stank to high heaven.
Chapter Eleven
While Saul finished off a call on his cell phone, Mia sat back on Saul’s sofa and mulled over the breakfast conversation she’d had with her father. He’d refused to talk about it last night after Saul left, but she was determined they would discuss it that morning.
She’d caught him escaping the house a little after seven, on his way to give a seminar in Oxford. Reluctantly, he acquiesced when she insisted that they talk. Mia knew he had time and she had made coffee while he sat at the breakfast table.
He’d spun the story about the notes being from some man she refused to have dinner with—a colleague of his, apparently—and assured her it was now a police matter and of no further concern to her.