by Diane Capri
Slowly the man turned to face Tony, whose mouth stretched into a menacing grin.
A half-smile replaced the man’s sneer. He offered his hand.
Lorne shook the offered hand, regretting it when he gave an intimidating squeeze that made her wince.
“Ted Owen. I own this place. The doorman said you’re a PI?”
“That’s right. I—sorry, we—wanted to ask you a few questions about an incident that took place last week outside your club.”
Owen dropped on to the stool next to Lorne. “The incident that the police have already asked me about, you mean?”
“Probably. The rape incident.”
He shrugged. “I can only tell you what I told the boys in blue. Afraid I know nothing about it.”
Lorne had expected that response. She kept her voice calm, despite the frustration building in the pit of her stomach. “What about CCTV. You do have that, don’t you?”
“Of course.” His tone had turned cocky, and his eyes were smiling. “Unfortunately, we had a glitch in the system that evening.”
Lorne raised an eyebrow. “A glitch? Or did someone turn the machine off?”
Owen laughed and looked over at Tony. “Your partner here has a vivid imagination.” His gaze returned to Lorne. “It was a definite glitch. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a few calls to make.” He got off the stool and thrust out his hand again for her to shake.
Lorne decided to push him further. “I’m guessing one of those calls is going to be to Graham Gibson.”
For a fraction of a second, he glared at her before his half-smile returned. “And why would I do that?”
“You’re not denying that you know him, then?”
“He’s a regular punter. Why would I deny that?”
Lorne slipped off her stool and took a step toward him. “I don’t know. Maybe covering up for a friend of yours—though why anyone would want to be friends with a scumbag like that is beyond me.”
His brow furrowed. “Scumbag? You have one bitch’s word that he did it. You do know he’s well off, don’t you?”
Lorne laughed. “You know what, Mr. Owen? Sometimes his type are the worst. Often they think just because they’re wealthy, they can have anything that takes their fancy—by force, if necessary.”
“Says you.”
“Says me and ten years’ experience in the Met, dealing day in and day out with the likes of him. Criminals come in all shapes and sizes, and from every conceivable background, Mr. Owen. None of them have it engraved on their foreheads—although if I had my way, I’d ensure they did. I’ll let you get on with making your calls, and if you should happen to ring Mr. Gibson, be sure to let him know I’m on his case, won’t you?”
Owen smirked. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
Lorne and Tony left the club.
Outside, she told Tony, “I hate it when they throw the ‘you know he’s rich, don’t you’ card around. If I wasn’t determined before to nail Gibson, I bloody well am now.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Fiona arrived home from work to find Ami staring at Blackie. The dog was busy chomping his way through a rawhide bone that Lorne had left for him. “Everything all right?”
The poor girl almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of Fiona’s voice. “Er… Sorry. I was miles away.”
“Are you okay?” Fiona placed her handbag on the coffee table and sat on the sofa next to her flatmate. Blackie stirred long enough to wag his tail at Fiona before he returned to chewing on his bone.
Ami’s gaze remained on the dog. “Just thinking,” she replied sadly.
Fiona placed a tentative arm around her shoulder. “About anything in particular, hon?”
Ami expelled a large breath. “I should’ve told my parents. You know, about the assault. My mum is going to be devastated when she finds out.”
Fiona had been thinking the same thing all day, with regard to telling her own parents about Linda, and had yet come to the conclusion whether it would be the right thing to do or not. Their father had recently suffered a mild heart attack and was under strict instructions from the doctor to avoid stressful situations. The jury was still out on if she should confide in her mother, knowing that her father always intuitively sensed when something was troubling his wife.
“I agree it’s difficult. Linda and I are in the same position. I take it you went to the police station today to file the complaint?”
“I did. They told me, as the incident happened a few weeks ago, they were doubtful about any positive outcome.”
Fiona withdrew her arm and clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. “Lorne warned us that might happen. I’ll give her a ring later; see what she suggests. Thanks for going down there, Ami. You never know. It might make a difference someday. Is Linda in her room?”
“She wasn’t feeling too well. She went to lie down a few hours ago when I got in from uni. I took Blackie for a walk in the park so Linda could have some peace and quiet. I didn’t know whether to check on her or not.”
“Thanks. I take it you and Blackie are getting along okay? Not sure about you, but I feel a darn sight safer knowing he’s around.” Fiona stood up.
Ami shrugged. “I suppose so. He seems settled here. Any idea what you want for dinner? I thought I might make a beef and ginger stir fry. Do you think Linda would like that?”
Fiona smiled and moved over to Linda’s door. “She loves your stir fries. Go ahead and start. I’ll check how she is and then come help chop the veggies.”
She pushed open the bedroom door. The room was dark, apart from the dim ray of light showing at the edge of the curtain. “Linda? Are you awake?”
A small moan told her yes. Fiona gently sat down on the bed beside her sister. She smoothed back a lock of hair that had flopped across Linda’s face. “How’s your head?”
Linda gingerly sat up and switched on the lamp beside her. Blinking against the sudden brightness, she replied, “Like it belongs to someone else.”
“Can I get you some tablets?”
“I took some a couple of hours ago. You know I can’t stand taking tablets unnecessarily. You don’t think he did any permanent damage, do you?”
Fiona shook her head. “I wouldn’t have thought so, sweetie. Maybe it’s more about you not sleeping well. That can take a toll on you. I hear you tossing and turning all night long. I’m wondering if you should see a doctor.”
“A shrink? That kind of doctor?” Linda shrieked.
“All right, calm down. It was just a suggestion.”
“The only thing that will give me peace at night is the thought of that pervert being locked up or at least off the streets. He taunts me, fills my dreams every night. Every hour of the day, I can still smell his vile breath and feel his hands touching me, groping me. It’s a horrible feeling, Fi, and I just want it to stop.”
“I’m sorry. I feel so helpless. I wish I could do more for you. I thought getting a dog would help set your mind at ease, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I know it’s easier said than done, but you have to try to move on. If you don’t, it’s as though he’s continually destroying your life. I don’t want him to do that.”
Tears welled in Linda’s already puffy eyes. “If only we could do something. The police are hopeless—without any evidence, that is. It galls me to think he’s out there. For all we know, he could be lining up his next victim.”
“Don’t say that, Linda.”
“It’s true. I’ve been thinking. I’ve got little else to do, right? What are the odds on both Ami and I being raped by the same person? Do you think he’s stalking us? Keeping an eye on the place? How did he know I had a sister? I didn’t tell him, and you’ve never been to the club with me, so how would he know?”
Fiona let her sister’s words sink in for a minute or two, her sister had a valid point. “Let’s see what Lorne digs up on this bastard and go from there.”
Linda frowned. “What do you mean? I know that look. You have a plan festeri
ng, don’t you?”
Fiona placed a hand to her chest. “Who, me?”
“Yes, you. Come on. Let me in on it. I hope you’re not going to do anything stupid, Fi. The guy is not worth getting into trouble for.”
“Let my plan fester a little while longer, and then I’ll let you in on it. Ami’s cooking one of your favourites. Are you up to eating anything?”
Linda swung her legs off the bed and slipped on her towelling robe. “Maybe if I had something to eat, it would ease my headache.”
“That’s the spirit. Umm… Would you mind if I popped out this evening?”
“Why should I? I’ve come to a few decisions today. This guy isn’t going to stop me living my life the way I want to live it: free of fear. I’m going back to work in the next few days. We all should go on with our lives as normal. You go out. Ami and I will be okay with Blackie here to watch over us.”
Fiona released the breath she had been holding in. Gone was Linda’s flinching when someone spoke. Fiona could see a determination that she knew would go a long way in assisting her sister to recover from her ordeal.
The two sisters linked arms and went in search of Ami in the kitchen. The wonderful aroma of their flatmate’s skill brought a smile to Fiona’s face. Even Blackie was standing at the kitchen doorway, eagerly wagging his tail.
After eating her meal, Fiona changed into a pair of jeans and her new blouse. She left the bedroom just as the front door bell rang. “That’ll be Jason. Don’t wait up.” She gave Linda a quick peck on the cheek and opened the door.
All through the evening, Jason twittered on about what he’d been up to since their last date. Fiona let him. Her mind was elsewhere, anyway.
She felt his hand cover hers.
“Fi? Have you heard a word I’ve been saying this evening?”
They had been going out with each other, on and off, for five years, and she had always found him interesting. Jason was a gentle, considerate man who lived life to the fullest extent.
“I’m sorry, Jason.”
Before she could say anything else, he leaned over the table and silenced her with a gentle kiss. “No need to apologise, love. How is Linda? I wasn’t sure whether you’d want to talk about her or not this evening.”
“She’s getting there. Before dinner, she told me she was thinking about going back to work. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” She took a sip of wine and then ran her finger around the rim.
“Too right it is. I’m sorry for not being able to help more. I feel so inadequate. No news on the police front, is there?”
“No. Actually, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
Jason took a drink from his own glass. “What’s that?”
“It’s come to light that Ami was raped last month by the same guy.”
He bounced back in his chair as if he’d been hit by a thunderbolt. “What?” Then he sat forward again and grasped her hand tightly in both of his. “But why didn’t she tell you?”
Fiona shrugged. “She was too ashamed. She hasn’t even told her mum yet.”
“Ami reported it to the police at the time, didn’t she?”
“Unfortunately not. She went down the station yesterday, but they sounded pessimistic about their chances of nailing the bastard. They’re going to question him about both incidents, but they don’t hold out much hope of making anything stick. No evidence.”
“That’s terrible. So what happens now?”
Fiona mulled over his question for a while. “I’ve employed the services of a PI. She’s an ex-Met detective. We’ll see what she can come up with. You met her the other night.”
“The woman you got Blackie from?”
She nodded. “Yep. At least the dog has given us some peace of mind. After his threat—”
Jason’s eyes widened. Fiona cringed.
“Whoa, hold on a minute. What threat? You mean this guy has been in touch since?”
Fiona swallowed. “Not exactly. The night Linda was, er… raped, he told her that if she fought him or screamed that he would come after me.”
“You’re kidding me?” His mouth dropped open.
“Sorry, hon. I shouldn’t have told you. That’s why we got Blackie. I’m safe. Please don’t worry. I go to work and come straight home every day. This is the first time I’ve ventured out since it happened. I just wish there was something we could do to stop this guy from raping anyone else.”
Thoughtful silence settled between them.
Jason’s clenched fist connected with the table, making Fiona jump. “There is,” he said, an evil smile curling his lip.
“What?”
“We go after him. Vigilante-style, if necessary.”
Fiona was shocked by his statement but it caused an idea she’d hatched a few days earlier to run through her mind.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Saturday morning arrived with the sound of Charlie bouncing excitedly through the back door. Lorne glanced at her watch; it was a little before eight.
She couldn’t help but wonder how long her daughter’s enthusiasm for mucking out the kennels and other chores was going to last. She would tackle Charlie about the proposition she had for her after they took care of the necessary chores.
The menial labour was a welcome relief to get away from the computer for a while. The day before, Lorne had spent over ten hours researching Gibson. The research had thrown up some surprising results. She’d established that he came from not only a rich family, but a very rich family—the kind of family who sent their kids to the best public school money could buy: Eton. He’d achieved several accolades for his sporting abilities, as captain of both the rugby team and the rowing team too.
The question still haunted her. So why had someone from such a privileged background turned out to be a rapist?
The morning flew past. During lunch Lorne, Charlie, Tony and her father sat down for a serious discussion.
Lorne broached the subject of running the kennels. “So, Charlie, we’ve been chatting, and we want to run something past you.”
Charlie placed her mug on the table. “Sounds ominous. Have I done something wrong?”
The three adults around the table all laughed, and the worry lines disappeared from Charlie’s forehead.
“On the contrary. Actually, we are very impressed with the way you’ve adapted to helping out around here. We’d like to put a proposition to you.”
Charlie tilted her head, looking intrigued. “Go on.”
“I know we’ve spoken a little about your future, and the last time we spoke, you weren’t exactly sure what career path you wanted to take. Has that changed at all?”
“Not really, Mum. I still have a tiny part of me that wants to join the police, but then I’ve seen how the force treat their women officers, and it’s made me want to reassess that decision. Why? What did you have in mind?”
Lorne spread her arm out to the side. “This place.”
“I don’t understand. You and Tony run this place.”
“Well… For the time being, and with Tony’s and my help, your grandfather is going to be running the place. We were hoping that you could take over once you leave school. If you wanted to, that is?”
Charlie’s face lit up as if a thousand bulbs were planted under her epidermis. “Really? You mean it? But what are you and Tony going to do?”
Lorne placed her hand on Tony’s. “We’re going to become private investigators.”
“Holy crap! Er… sorry. That’s brilliant. My God, this is the best news I’ve heard in ages. We could all do it. Be private eyes I mean.” She clapped her hands together.
Lorne struggled to keep a straight face. “Umm… First things first, young lady. It takes experience to be a PI—”
“Mum, give me a break. I know that. I’m not saying any time soon. But maybe in a few years?”
“We’ll see. Now, getting back to our little plan. Your grandfather has been making some enquiries about turning this place into a boarding k
ennel to run alongside the rescue centre.”
Charlie nodded. “Makes sense. It might encourage people to take one of the rescue boarders home with them when they come and pick their own dogs up.”
Lorne couldn’t help but be impressed with her daughter’s thinking. She really had matured over the last few months. “That’s what we thought. We still have a little research to do on that side of things, but initial enquiries have come up with positive results so far. It would mean you having to deal with the general public, though. Are you up to that?”
“If you’d asked me that question last year, I would have said no way. However, the counsellor has told me I’ve come a long way in the last few months. So much so, in fact, that she thinks the sessions can come to an end soon.”
Lorne stood up, wrapped her arms around her daughter, and squeezed tight. The knowledge that the Unicorn’s hold over her daughter would soon come to an end was the best news she’d had in a very long time. “Darling, that’s wonderful news. This calls for a celebration. We’re all going out to a fancy restaurant tonight, on me.”
“Mum, get off me. I told you I’d get over it, didn’t I? I have your stubborn genes, don’t forget.”
“Be right back.” Lorne heard her father and Tony congratulating Charlie as she made her way into the lounge to find the phone. Before she could ring the restaurant, the phone rang in her hand. She answered, “Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?” she asked again, more loudly.
A muffled voice replied, “Leave well alone, bitch!” Then the caller hung up.
Lorne was staring at the phone when Tony came in.
He asked, “Who was that?”
“Not sure. Although I can hazard a guess.”
He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What did the caller say, Lorne?”
“He told me to back off, in no uncertain terms. He’s got two hopes of that happening—Bob Hope and no bloody hope. Cheeky bastard. Let’s see if his number shows up.” Lorne redialled the number and wasn’t surprised when it rang and rang. “Probably a call box somewhere, the gutless piece of shit.”
“Let’s not let it spoil the weekend. We’ll pay the guy a visit on Monday—how’s that? At work, if you like. That should knock the crap out of him.”