Risky Business

by W. Soliman

  I won. Just. “What brings you here so early?”

  “When I told Mum about our plans for the weekend she said it was stupid for me to drive back tonight, only to return again in the morning. She’ll stay with the kids tonight and drop them here tomorrow.” She grinned at me. “So we’ll have one whole night all to ourselves.”

  “Hmm.” I pretended to think about it. “What are we gonna do with it?”

  “Oh, I’m sure something will come up,” she said with an angelic smile.

  She wandered into the salon and glanced around. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she was looking for evidence of Cleo’s presence.

  “She isn’t here,” I said quietly from the doorway.

  She turned to face me, guilt in her expression. “I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m being a dork.”

  “No, you’re not.” I took her hand and pulled her onto the seating unit. “In fact we probably ought to talk about it.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She snatched her hand away. “I know how you feel about these things.”

  “About being independent? About having no commitments other than Harry?” I asked. Kara nodded, not quite meeting my gaze. “Perhaps I’ve changed.”

  She did look at me now. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it since our last…er, meeting.”

  “Me too.” She ran a hand along my thigh.

  “Don’t do that.” I trapped her hand with mine anyway. “I need to be serious for a moment or two, say what’s in my head and then you can have your wicked way with me.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said with such a glorious smile that I almost shelved the serious talk and got straight down to business.

  “Look, the thing is, I don’t want to change the way I live. I really don’t want to go back to the semidetached, the saloon car, the golf club…”

  “You don’t play golf.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. I sometimes feel a bit trapped by the kids. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love them to death. It’s just that I hadn’t planned to become mother to my sister’s children out of the blue like that. Especially when I saw her murdered with my own eyes.”

  “I know. Life can be a real bitch sometimes.” But I hadn’t known, not really. I thought she was completely content with the turn her life had taken. I should have asked her instead of just assuming. “What I was going to suggest,” I said, “if it’s all right with you, is that we keep things the way they are—”

  “Oh, I see.” She dropped her eyes but not so quickly that I didn’t see disappointment written all over her face.

  “No, you don’t. I was going to say, let’s keep things the way they are, with one big change.”

  “That I stop nagging you about your other conquests.” She grimaced. “Okay, point taken.”

  “Actually—” I paused, wondering how to phrase this. Wondering how she’d react. “Look, the thing is, how would you feel about becoming my only conquest?”

  She snapped her head round, her expression so startled that I was tempted to laugh. It was obviously the last thing she’d expected me to say. “You mean that?” she asked warily, tears suspiciously close.

  “You think I’d say it if I didn’t? I’d have asked you before now,” I said, realising that I meant it, “but I thought you were tied up with Anton.”

  “You should have asked.”

  “I guess I was afraid of rejection.”

  “Oh, Charlie!” Her laughter echoed round the salon. “Humility doesn’t suit you.”

  “Okay, do I get my reward now?”

  Relieved as I was that she hadn’t turned me down, or told me to get real, as far as I was concerned that was all there was to be said about the arrangement. I moved the hand I still had trapped on my thigh closer to my groin. Things were stirring in that region and it was starting to become urgent. But I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to get laid.

  “You’re not doing this because you feel obligated in any way, are you?”

  “No, sweetheart, and just so we’re clear, I’m not making you any promises beyond an exclusive relationship. It just feels kind of right, so if you’re up for that, let’s see how it goes.”

  “Fine by me.”

  Even so, I could sense her formulating further questions and knew she’d want to analyse my suggestion to death. I didn’t. Without giving her the opportunity to speak, I swept her into my arms, negotiated us both rather inelegantly down the winding steps to my cabin and dumped her on the bed.

  “Now, would you kindly shut up and give me my reward.”

  “Gladly,” she said with a specious smile that convinced me I’d done the right thing.

  * * *

  Only afterwards did I get round to asking her how she was doing with the research she’d volunteered to undertake.

  “Not much to tell, I’m afraid.”

  “You failed me.” I tutted. “How much of himself must a guy give to get good help nowadays?”

  She punched my arm. “Do you want to know what I did manage to find out?”

  “Sure I do,” I said, idly tracing patterns on her breasts with my forefinger. “Shoot.”

  She reeled off a load of background leading to Katrina Simpson’s downfall. Nothing I didn’t already know.

  “And I can’t trace any connection between her and Peter Garnet. There’s nothing on public record that I could find anyway.”

  I was disappointed but not surprised. “Never mind. Thanks for looking.”

  She couldn’t shed any additional light on Angie Bradley’s involvement either, but she did come up with the goods on the powerboat teams.

  “They are all owed by mega-rich guys, Charlie, mostly Asian. Unless Garnet’s got hidden funds I can’t see how he could hope to take one over. Not even a failing one.”

  “Perhaps Hal’s has become such a drain on his resources that he’s decided to cut his losses and write it off as a tax deduction.”

  “Could he do that?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve no idea but anything’s possible when you’re that rich.”

  “I read quite a lot of stuff online about his team and they were a force to be reckoned with at the end of last season.”

  “But there won’t be much team camaraderie this year if things keep going wrong.”

  “I would imagine not. There have been a few articles in the trade press hinting at problems within the team.”

  “And those sorts of rumours would be enough to start a whispering campaign.” I levered myself from the bed. “Thanks, sweetheart, you’ve helped a lot.”

  “My pleasure.” Still sprawled naked amongst the twisted sheets, she smiled up at me in that provocative manner of hers that severely tested my resolve to take Gil for his run.

  I left her to make her preparations for the party to come. I knew she wouldn’t take long but it would still be a damned sight longer than I needed. Gil and I ambled along the beach, giving her time. I waited for panic to set in about the commitment I’d made to Kara but it didn’t happen. By the time I got back to the boat she was looking sensational in the clinging emerald-green dress I’d seen her in before, her hair freshly washed and curling around her shoulders in orderly disorder. I whistled, my decision to keep her all to myself suddenly vindicated.

  “Going somewhere nice?” I asked her.

  “I’m going with someone nice,” she countered, giving me a hug.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Stop being silly and get in that shower. We’ll be late.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be fashionable?”

  * * *

  “I’ll drive,” I said as we made our way along the pontoon a short time later, Kara swinging a pair o
f killer heels by their straps. If she wore them to walk down the floating dock they’d get stuck between the planking. “Don’t want you to ruin your fancy footwear.”

  She threw me the keys and blew a kiss. “My hero.”

  “You better believe it!”

  “Oh, I do. I absolutely do.”

  “That’s more like it,” I said, slipping an arm round her waist. “A bit of respect at last.”

  “Ah, but it worked. You’ve offered to drive so I can drink as much as I like.”

  I whacked her backside as I opened the car door for her. We arrived at the club at seven-thirty, by which time the car park was almost full. I slotted Kara’s VW into one of the few remaining spaces and took my time checking the place out. It was on the corner of a country road in a decent area just outside Hove. As well as the car park at the front there also seemed to be an extensive wooded area fenced off, part of the property.

  “Probably couldn’t get permission to cut the trees down and build on that bit,” I speculated.

  “Yes.” Kara followed the direction of my gaze. “I looked the club up online. They call it their meditation wilderness. It covers several acres apparently.”

  “And makes the place more like a country club.”

  We headed for the door and I handed my invite to a monkey-suited lackey. He checked my name against a list and we were granted admission to an impressive atrium. Mature tropical plants dominated but the immediate eye-catcher was a plunge pool with attractive women wearing miniscule bikinis draped on swings above it. Steam rose from an unoccupied hot tub. I wondered if that situation would change before the close of play. My first impression of the rather straitlaced crowd made me doubt it.

  One wall was completely taken up by a caterer’s table, and waiters circulated with trays of champagne. Soft music—the sort of stuff I associated with lifts and absolutely hated—was being piped through hidden speakers. It reinforced my premonition that I wasn’t going like Mr. Garnet much. I already had reason to question his taste.

  “It reminds me of the Sanctuary in Covent Garden,” Kara said, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. “I reckon he’s copied their formula.”

  “Is that what you do at these swanky places then?” I indicated one of the babes on a swing, pushing herself across the pool slowly enough to give the men beneath her a good view of her bikini-clad rear.

  She chuckled. “You have no idea.”

  “Perhaps I ought to sign up.”

  “They wouldn’t have you, Charlie, not at the Sanctuary anyway. It’s women only.”

  I sighed. “Such a waste.” I felt her eyes on me and squeezed her arm. “Hey, I didn’t agree to stop looking.”

  “True,” she said, grinning, “but then neither did I.”

  I followed the direction of her gaze. Lounged against a pillar, a couple of fit-looking guys were lazily assessing her with their eyes. I didn’t blame them. As far as I was concerned she was ten times classier than any other woman in the place. But then, perhaps I was biased.

  “Will I be letting the side down if I ask for a beer?” I asked, turning my nose up at the slightly warm fizz.

  “Probably, but as we’ve agreed you’re the designated driver you might as well save yourself the embarrassment and abstain altogether.”

  I feigned horror. “I hope we’re only referring to the booze.”

  “Even I wouldn’t be that cruel.”

  “Self-deprivation not being in your nature.”

  She tilted her head and offered me a sultry smile. “Well, there is that.”

  I put my glass aside and we circulated a bit. Kara knew a few people and nodded to them. The only familiar face I saw belonged to Tommy Mallet. We made eye contact and left it at that. Then I saw Paul. He’d regained his flamboyant flare and was wearing a pale linen suit with a turquoise T-shirt beneath it. I felt myself tense up as I guided Kara in his direction.

  “Let the theatricals begin,” I said quietly.

  “Hey, little brother,” he said. “Welcome to the lion’s den.”

  “Paul, this is Kara. Kara, Paul.”

  They shook hands. “Pleased to meet you,” Kara said politely.

  “Where have you been?” I asked him. “You were supposed to be contactable.” He glanced at Kara and raised a questioning brow. “It’s okay,” I said.

  “I needed time to get my head together.” He paused. “I went to Yorkshire to spend a few days with the folks, if you really want to know.”

  It had to be the truth because he knew I could check. It also explained why he hadn’t been answering his mobile. There was no signal in their particular part of the back of beyond.

  “We can’t be seen talking too animatedly,” I said. “I assume Garnet knows we’re not the best of friends.”

  “I might have given him that mistaken impression.”

  “Cut the crap, Paul,” I said tersely.

  “Relax, little brother. This is supposed to be a party.”

  “More like a bloody wake.” I cast an eye over the sober crowd. Paul and I appeared to be the only two men in the place not wearing ties. Some were even in dinner jackets. None of them appeared to even notice—let alone enjoy—the eye candy in the plunge pool, which struck me as entirely unnatural.

  Paul grinned. “You have a point there.”

  “What happened to Miller’s other notebooks?” I asked abruptly.

  He didn’t insult my intelligence by asking me what I meant. “They weren’t there. He has a storage facility somewhere and kept them in it once he started a new one.”

  “Why?” Kara asked.

  “Because he was a cautious guy.”

  “Does Garnet know about this storage place?”

  “I doubt it.” He shrugged. “Even I don’t know where it is.”

  Kara dumped her empty glass on a waiter’s tray. Paul did the same and took fresh ones for Kara and himself. He looked at me but I shook my head.

  “Did Miller have another male friend before you, or were you his first?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I should have thought that would be obvious.”

  “Well, yes, there was one other. They had a long-term relationship. It lasted several years.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “I know the man. Miles Fisher.”

  “Miles?” Amusement caused me to temporarily forget about keeping this brief. “Who the hell calls their kids Miles nowadays?”

  “A small price to pay in return for a sodding great trust fund.”

  “Not much love lost between you, then?”

  “Hardly, darling,” Paul said derisively. “I met Miles here at this club. He was with Miller. They were trying to look as though they didn’t know each other but my gaydar was on full alert and I picked up on their little secret at once.”

  “And moved in on Miller.”

  Paul shrugged. “These things happen.”

  “How did Fisher take it?”

  “Badly at first, but Jason had dinner with him again one last time, not long before he died as a matter of fact. He told me they’d worked it out and he was okay with it.”

  That must have been the cosy tête-à-tête I’d witnessed. I wondered about it. A man scorned was probably just as vindictive as his female counterpart.

  “Didn’t that strike you as suspicious?”

  Paul shrugged. “No, not really. I know the guy was upset but…well, get over it, baby. It never even crossed my mind that he’d resort to murder.”

  “Do you know where I can find a picture of this Miles character?”

  “I have one of the three of us somewhere at home.”

  “Cosy,” I said, elevating one brow.

  “It’s not what you’re thinki
ng. It was taken here at a do, before I moved on Jason.”

  “Can you get it to me?”

  “I’ll email it.”

  “Did Miles know you were Jason’s new significant other?”

  “No. We didn’t see any point in hurting him by flaunting it.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. Now, one last question before you start making loud, derisive innuendos about me.”

  Paul struck a pose. “What insults could I fire at you now we’re so chummy?”

  “I can help you out there,” Kara said sweetly.

  Paul chuckled. “I’m starting to like this lady.”

  “Why has Garnet asked me to come here today?”

  “No idea but he’s heading this way so I guess you’re about to find out.”

  I followed the direction of Paul’s gaze and saw a tall, thin, unremarkable-looking man with a receding hairline working the room. He was wearing a three-piece suit, tie, the whole works. It certainly hadn’t come off the peg. He oozed insincere charm as he paused to greet people. The women appeared to love him. I watched for Kara’s reaction but she didn’t seem to be particularly impressed, which was good for my male ego.

  Garnet was detained by another group and I didn’t notice his wife approaching us from another direction until I felt a hand tugging at my sleeve.

  “Ah, there you are, Charlie. You came.”

  Andrea Garnet was wearing a skintight red dress that was too short for her age. Her face was overly made-up, and foundation was settling into the lines round her mouth, emphasising the cracks instead of concealing them. She batted her lashes at me and reached up to give me a kiss. Kara watched her with open interest.

  “Good evening,” I said politely.

  “Isn’t it too boring for words, darling,” she said, slipping an arm through mine.

  “There are some interesting people here,” I said diplomatically.

  “Interesting, bah! They all latch on to Peter like leeches. They’re just out for what they think he can do for them.”

  I could see her eyeing Kara, presumably trying to gauge the precise nature of our relationship, but she didn’t ask for an introduction. Kara stood her ground, even though Andrea had rudely half turned her back on her and Paul, trying to cut them out of our conversation. I almost smiled. Kara’s a redhead. A genuine redhead. I’ve yet to see her back down from a confrontation and woe betide Andrea if she lost her temper. Before the situation reached that stage, Peter Garnet joined the group.