by Sibel Hodge
*****
This was definitely a barbequed spare rib and prawn chow mein night. As I slid my key into my apartment door, I was thinking lustful thoughts about prawn crackers, tangy barbeque sauce and noodles, all washed down with a bottle of Merlot.
I saw Brad lounging on my sofa with Marmalade and somehow my lustful thoughts about Chinese food morphed into lustful thoughts about him. He had faded jeans on and a black shirt, first three buttons undone. I thought about running my fingers over his chest hair and getting lost in some full-blown sexy kissing. Thoughts were OK, weren’t they? As long as I didn’t actually act on them, I could think about it to my heart’s content.
Yeah, right, Amber. Who are you kidding?
OK, maybe the thinking part might lead to the doing part, and that might lead somewhere that I could never get back from. I’d been to that place before, and I didn’t trust myself to recover a second time if something went wrong.
‘Have you been using your open sesame lock-picking tool again?’ I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the sofa next to him, not sure if I was annoyed or excited about the possibility of him entering my apartment at whim. It could definitely lead to a few exciting fantasies. A girl was allowed fantasies.
Marmalade abandoned Brad and climbed onto my knee, nudging my hand with his nose.
‘I wanted to make sure you got home alright. It’s not every day you get sent a nose in the post.’ He reached out and slid his fingers through mine. ‘I don’t want anything to happen to you.’
I stood up to avoid any further finger molesting and stalked into the kitchen, returning with two glasses of wine and a takeaway menu.
‘OK, well since you’re here, we can go over the case.’ I handed him a glass. ‘And no funny business! We need to go through this chronologically and see if we can work out what’s going on. Something kick-started this whole thing off four years ago, and I need to know what.’ I flopped back onto the sofa next to him. The only problem was that my sofa was small and squashy and pushed us together without me even doing anything. It wasn’t my fault, honest. It was the sofa’s fault. He smelled warm and delicious and intoxicating.
He took the glass, looking disappointed at the “no funny business” rule as I ordered some much-needed food.
Brad crossed his legs and leaned back on the sofa. ‘Hacker has been delving into Levi’s bank accounts and hasn’t found anything much. It seems like payments from his fights were paid by Vinnie in dribs and drabs. Certainly not what you’d expect a world-class fighter to be earning, and not enough to be living in luxury. Levi bought his house just after he won his first title fight. He bought it for seven-hundred thousand pounds – presumably that was with his winnings, and before Vinnie changed the contract. The current value’s around a million. He doesn’t own any other property or real estate, and his Aston Martin is leased by Vinnie.’
‘Probably Vinnie wants to put on a show that he’s giving his fighters a good deal by letting Levi drive around in a top-of-the-range car. But in the meantime, while Vinnie is dishing out pocket money to Levi, Vinnie’s getting a huge chunk of interest on what should really be Levi’s wages.’
‘Levi should be due millions from all his fights, but while Vinnie controls the purse strings, Levi’s never going to get what he’s actually worth.’ Brad took a sip of wine.
‘And that’s the problem,’ I said. ‘I can’t see why he’d agree to such a bad contract unless he was being blackmailed into signing it. Ricky and Letitia said that Levi signed it after his first title fight four years ago, so something must’ve happened to Levi around that time.’ I tucked my legs underneath me on the sofa, getting comfortable for a long night.
‘His affair with the woman at Swallow Mews?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I don’t think so. An affair isn’t big news. What would’ve been the worst that could happen if someone found out about it? Levi and Letitia might’ve split up and maybe it would be splashed across the tabloids for a while, but so what? It wouldn’t really affect Levi’s career that much. No, this has to be something big.’ I pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering what it could be. The picture painted of Levi by those close to him was of a determined, focused, family man who was a nice guy. But had he started off as Mr. Nice Guy and just fallen down a wrong path somewhere, or was it all an act? Was Mr. Nice Guy involved in something bad from the start because he wanted to be? ‘Ricky and Terry said boxing was Levi’s life. He was determined, focused, and apparently a good, family guy. All he’d dreamed about since he was a kid was becoming the heavyweight champion of the world, but what was the price he’d been willing to pay for it? And how could he be willing to risk throwing a fight later on in his career and be exposed as a cheat?’ My brows furrowed together in a deep frown.
Be careful what you wish for.
‘We’ll have to see what Hacker digs up,’ Brad said.
‘Whatever it was, I think that’s what Levi was referring to when he said he wanted to make it right and live up to his responsibilities.’ I grabbed the bottle of wine from the floor and topped up our glasses. ‘And why did Levi take out life insurance? Did he know Carl was going to blow the whistle on his little secret and something bad might happen to him as a result? Was he making preparations to provide Letitia with an income if something did happen?’
‘That’s a possibility. Levi must know exactly the kind of things Vinnie is involved in. He must know that anyone who double-crosses Vinnie is living on borrowed time. Levi would’ve been scared that whatever it was would get out,’ Brad said. ‘Hacker also said Levi and Letitia had spent thousands over the years on IVF treatment. Perhaps Vinnie was feeling generous at the time and decided to give them some extra pocket money for it.’
I pondered this, head on one side, seeing if it added to the “anything useful” list that would help me solve the case. I didn’t think so. It might explain Letitia’s dependence on alcohol now, though.
‘Then there was the Kinghorn Thomas safety deposit box robbery a week before the fight.’ Brad dusted away one of Marmalade’s hairs from his jeans. ‘Lee could’ve been involved in it, or it could’ve been Vinnie, Levi, Carl, Deborah, or someone we haven’t even figured into the equation.’
I traced my finger around the rim of my glass. ‘There are a hundred possible reasons for the robbery. If Carl was involved, he could’ve found out something about Levi from Vinnie’s safety deposit box, and that was what he was shouting about at the fight.’
Brad nodded. ‘Edward could’ve been involved with Carl or alone.’
‘Edward was using the clients’ money to place huge illegal sports bets, and he lied to me about it.’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘If Carl wasn’t involved in it and found out what was going on, that could be the reason he was killed.’
‘And Carl’s share of the bank transferred over to Edward on his death. Another possible motive to kill him.’
‘Then we have Deborah,’ I said. ‘Someone broke into their house before the robbery but didn’t take anything. It seems more likely they were looking for something in particular. Either the perpetrator didn’t know Carl had moved out, or they were looking for something that Deborah had. I wonder what it was.’ I wandered into the kitchen to get plates and cutlery and set them on the table in the corner of my lounge. I thought about lighting a few candles and having some subtle, relaxing ambience, but that might give Brad the wrong idea. Or the right one. I hadn’t worked out which was which yet. They both seemed to be too closely related to each other.
‘Has Sabre given up the photo of this guy who broke into Ashcombe House yet?’ Brad asked.
I scrunched up my nose. ‘No. Dad said he hasn’t been to the toilet yet, which is amazing. Normally he goes about ten times a day.’
‘Well, good luck with sifting through the evidence to find the memory card.’ Brad grinned at me. ‘If Deborah set up the security system in the bank, she could’ve been involved in the robbery.’ He paused, thinking. ‘Carl left his business to Edward and
his personal assets to his niece, Amy, so Deborah didn’t have a motive to kill him. But Edward said Deborah was trying to screw him for money in the divorce. Maybe she got into the bank’s computers systems to find out where Carl had stashed his five million so she could get her hands on it in a divorce settlement.’
‘Maybe. Or maybe she masterminded the whole robbery because she thought he had it stashed in a deposit box at the bank.’ I lit the candles anyway. I know, I know! Maybe I was tempting the inevitable, or maybe the wine was going to my head and making me reckless.
The doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of our food. Whoever invented junk food delivery was an absolute genius.
I opened the cartons, spread them on the table, and took a sip of wine. Then I noticed Brad stand up and saunter to the table. Boy, did I notice. It was hard not to. His jeans were hugging his butt just right. It was a pretty firm and sexy butt, too.
Down girl!
OK, not looking now. You see, this is what happens when I started drinking in his company. My inhibitions and stressy “what ifs” scarpered and left me with butt-watching instead.
Brad picked up his glass and clinked it against mine, gazing at me intently. ‘To us.’
Before I could tell him that there was no “us” he asked, ‘Do you have any chopsticks?’ Brad sat down at the table and took a sip of wine.
Brad was an expert with chopsticks. He was an expert with anything that involved his hands.
Don’t even go there, Amber.
‘Why would I need chopsticks when I can get more in with a spoon and fork in a lot less time?’ I sat opposite him and grinned, picking up a greasy spare rib in my fingers and gnawing on it ravenously. At least if he was sitting down I couldn’t check out his butt anymore.
‘Then we come to Levi.’ Brad expertly twirled some noodles around his fork. ‘We know Vinnie was blackmailing him about something. If Vinnie had the evidence in his safety box, Levi could’ve organized the robbery to get it back so Vinnie wouldn’t have a hold over him anymore. Maybe Vinnie asking him to throw the fight was the last straw.’
I licked my fingers. ‘It makes sense, but somehow I can’t see Levi organizing a bank robbery.’
Brad grinned at me as I licked my lips.
‘Want a rib?’ I asked.
He rested his spoon and fork on the plate. ‘That depends. Does it come attached to the rest of you?’
I nudged his foot with mine. ‘Hey! No funny business.’
‘OK, OK.’ He held his hands up in mock surrender.
‘Lee could’ve organized the robbery on Levi’s behalf to get what was in Vinnie’s box for him,’ I said. ‘He was in Spain at the time it happened, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t get a crew to do it for him.’ Although the more I thought about that scenario, the more I realized there was one small problem with it. ‘But no, that doesn’t work. That meant Lee would be using the information against Vinnie, and even though the Dawsons are slimy lowlifes, family is number one on their list of loyalties.’
‘And cats, apparently.’ Brad expertly worked the flesh of one of the ribs without getting it over half of his face like me. ‘Do you think that Letitia could’ve been involved in all of this somehow? Jealous, angry wife finds out about his affair and plans a revenge attack. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.’
‘I don’t think so. Letitia isn’t angry – she’s upset and depressed. I think she’s had enough of years of manipulation from Vinnie.’ I shrugged. ‘And maybe she’s depressed because she and Levi couldn’t have children.’
‘If Levi is such a family man and an all round great guy, it seems a bit out of character for him to have an affair.’ Brad pushed his plate away. ‘So, do you really think Lee Dawson arranged the safety box robbery?’
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘It seems too much of a coincidence in all of this. Romeo checked out Lee’s alibi for the time of the robbery himself. Lee really was in Spain for that weekend. Two of Lee’s old bank robbing team are dead, and Craig Hanson is AWOL, according to his wife, and I haven’t got a clue where he is. I’ll get Hacker to see if there’s any trace of him using his bank accounts and stuff.’ I took a sip of wine to wash down the food. ‘Maybe Lee organized the robbery without even knowing Vinnie had a safety box there.’
Brad stretched out his long, toned legs and laced his hands behind his head.
I quickly checked out his thighs. Yep, as firm and toned and yummy as ever. I tossed down the dregs of my wine and briskly tidied up the cartons and plates, busying myself in the kitchen so I wouldn’t be tempted to look at them anymore.
Brad crept up behind me as I loaded the plates in the dishwasher. I jumped when I realized he was there and swung around. He backed me into the edge of the worktop, his grey eyes staring intently into mine. With his face barely inches away from mine, I could feel his breath, laced with spices and garlic, on my lips.
I sucked in a breath and felt my face (and a few other bits) flood with warmth.
Slowly, he reached out a finger and brought it to the edge of my lips. ‘You have barbeque sauce everywhere.’ The finger worked its way lower, tracing a line down my jawline and neck.
Mmm. Oh, yes, keep your finger going a bit further. Bit further.
I shuddered, his touch burning my skin.
His finger stopped just before he reached my boob.
Ooh, hello! Nipples springing to attention alert!
All I could hear was my breath, rushing in and out, and the banging away of my heartbeat. Either it was scorchingly hot in here all of a sudden or my temperature had just shot up a trillion degrees. Even my bones felt like they were melting with the heat. If I got any hotter, I’d explode in a puff of smoke. Brad had dangerous hands, and not just for bad guys. In fact, his hands should be made illegal.
‘You even have some on your top here. Want me to kiss it off?’ His steady gaze bored into me.
My legs turned to jelly with the dangerous intensity of his gaze. My lips wanted to scream “YES” at the top of my voice, but my brain was sending me silent, red-hot warning signals.
‘Say something.’ Brad inched his lips closer to mine.
I clamped my mouth shut, not trusting myself to speak or succumb to his kiss or anything else for that matter. He looked soooooo edible. Or lickable, even.
God, it was temptation like nothing else on earth. Not even chocolate temptation compared to this, and that’s saying something! He was so close, and I knew just how good his skin would feel under my fingertips. I knew how explosive the sex would be. I knew how excited and safe and special I’d feel with his hands all over my body. I knew all this, but I decided to go with my brain’s signals and pushed him gently away.
He challenged me with his eyes and he broke into a slow, wicked grin. It was the kind of grin that made me want to throw myself at his feet and rip my clothes off. ‘It’ll never be over, you know, Foxy.’
I gulped. Yes, that was exactly what I was afraid of.
Chapter 9
I couldn’t sleep that night. My brain wouldn’t switch off at all. Partly because I kept thinking about Brad, and partly because the details of the case were going around and around my head in an endless loop. I tried to count sheep, but even they got fed up with waiting for me to drop off into la-la land and they all buggered off and left me. When I did finally succumb to sleep, I had a weird dream that I was at a fancy dress party with Vinnie. Actually, it was more like a nightmare. He was dressed up as a doughnut, although I don’t think he needed any extra padding around his stomach. I was dressed as Cat Woman, and I looked pretty sexy in my black rubber suit (that was the good bit). Vinnie held Coco in his arms, stroking the cat like the evil supervillain in James Bond (I forget his name) and cackling at me. Then Thuggy appeared dressed as Freddy Krueger, complete with slashing knife fingers, carrying Marmalade by the scruff of his neck. Thuggy was just about to bite Marmalade’s head off when I woke up.
Sweat dripped off my forehead as I sat bolt upright in bed
. I could still hear the cackling resonating in my ears. Why couldn’t someone invent an on/off switch for my brain?
I had a long hot shower, soaping myself up with some lemon smelling foam that apparently contained real lemon zest (that was a fruit; would add it to my five a day) and washing out the tangles in my hair. No, actually that’s not quite true. I tried to have a long, hot shower. I dreamed of a long, hot shower. Wished for one, even. But, as usual, the hot water ran out after about five minutes, and the reality was somewhere in between lukewarm to glacial. I really needed to sort my plumbing out. Mental note: When this case is over, get a plumber to install a power shower that has a temperature control that goes above five degrees.
I blasted my hair with the hairdryer, whipped on some mascara and lippy and grabbed some breakfast to go (a bar of chocolate – handy and full of energy). I was out the door by eight, which was pretty good going.
I still had six names on my list of safety deposit box owners to question about their contents, and I wanted to crack on before my brain spontaneously combusted from too much activity.
One woman proudly told me her box contained a new, super vibrator that she’d invented and had yet to patent. She asked whether I wanted one when they went on sale.
No, thanks, I have a perfectly good one already.
Another woman had an heirloom of gold and diamond jewellery, which was worth about three thousands pounds. There was one man had some bondage photos of his boyfriend.
Ew! Too much information; bad visions would stay with me for the rest of the day.
An elderly woman had her dead husband’s false teeth in them (bless her) as well as the deeds to her house. Another man had five years of his research into various penile problems. He was thrilled to talk about this subject for half an hour, covering erections, premature ejaculation, and other facts known to penises that I tried to drown out. His manuscript was going to be the next bestseller, apparently, if only he could find a publisher for it.