Blue Steal

by Marnie St Clair

  She’d continue working for Mark to pay the bills, train up a good replacement for him. She’d do her own management on the side, save every penny of the exorbitant fee she’d just named to cover surgery and any extra medical bills. She’d add some night classes to what was already going to be a crazy schedule. She’d graduate high school, then she’d start a business degree.

  She’d be busy.

  She’d be fine.

  New life plan. No marrying a rich guy, no hawking stolen goods.

  In fact, she’d return the necklace to Jack today.

  She knew he was hurt by her decision to walk away with the necklace, she knew he felt he couldn’t trust her, but she wouldn’t let him not forgive her. If she wasn’t accepting the circumstances of her life anymore, she wasn’t accepting Jack deciding he wasn’t going to part of it. So there.

  Anna would never ask her to stop living her own life for her—she’d be mortified and upset if she felt Selina had flung herself on the sacrificial fire. In fact, Anna would probably refuse the deep brain stimulation operation outright if she knew Selina had stolen to finance it.

  Selina should be proud of that. She had a sister who refused to let her condition define her life, who insisted on living it on her own terms, so full of courage and heart. She was proud of Anna, but that’s not what had come out this morning. Selina had all but commanded her to shut up and do what she was told. She’d better go apologise. A broken heart had made her cranky.

  She walked to her sister’s bedroom door. Anna was lying her bed, staring at the ceiling like it had done something wrong. ‘Anna.’

  Her head swivelled towards her, her expression pure teenage rebellion.

  ‘Start packing.’

  A second. Two. Then a smile like a sunrise. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. You’re right. We just have to find a way to make it work.’

  Anna dragged herself up off the bed, walked in her stiff style towards Selina and threw her arms around her. ‘Thank you, Selina. You’re the best sister ever.’

  Selina hugged her sister back hard and then released her. ‘That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago.’ But there was no sting there. ‘How’d you get to be so smart, Annie?’

  ‘I just copy you,’ she said with a smile and a shrug.

  Selina walked out of the room, smile on her face. Then turned back to where her sister was piling books and pens into her school bag. ‘Hey, do you want to go see Pink with me?’

  Chapter 18

  ‘We don’t do cheating spouses,’ Jack bit out.

  Cheating spouses might comprise the bulk of general detective work, but it wasn’t the kind of thing de Crespigny did. Corporate work was their bread and butter; industrial espionage, due diligence and background checks for high-level appointments, mergers and acquisitions. When it came up, they did criminal work too; witness locate, wrongful death and missing persons, unsolved crimes.

  Lucrative, interesting work.

  Catching a trophy wife bonking her toy boy didn’t get a look in.

  John Prescott just fixed his hard, heavy gaze on him, confident that this was not going to present a problem. He was a corpulent middle-aged pig of a man, with the coarse, ruddy complexion of a heavy drinker. He was also the head of a global logistics company that sent millions of dollars of corporate work their way each year. Which was why John was confident the problem was going to be resolved in his favour.

  ‘Usually,’ Clarissa interjected from across the small oval conference table. ‘We don’t usually take infidelity cases, but of course, we’d make an exception for a valued client such as yourself.’ Her clear, soothing bell-like voice had the desired effect, and Prescott look mollified.

  Clarissa didn’t often speak at meetings—Jack was usually de Crespigny’s prime schmoozer. Not today.

  Kelly shot him a stern look that told him to get his head back in the game. ‘So, you believe Destiny is having an affair with her personal trainer.’

  Jack snorted, and John glared at him again. With a name like Destiny, what did the guy expect?

  ‘Yes,’ John confirmed, taking his glare away from Jack to answer Kelly’s question. ‘I believe she is. He’s new, and he comes highly recommended from … one of her friends, can’t remember the name … but ever since he’s been on the scene, she seems … different.’

  Like, sexually satisfied?

  Jack smirked but managed to keep that one to himself.

  ‘Do you have a time and a place we should start with?’ Clarissa covered again.

  ‘He comes at ten o’clock every morning for a Pilates session. We have our own home work-out studio.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve heard Pilates is great for toning all those inner muscles.’ Another cheap shot, but this time, he couldn’t resist.

  ‘Comments like that are how you end up with a face like that,’ John responded.

  It’d been two weeks since he’d been taken for a ride by Lewis’s goons. The bruises were fading in spectacular fashion—right now, a wild melange of yellow and purple.

  He was about to respond in a highly inappropriate fashion, but Kelly, sensing danger, got in first. ‘Jack, Charles has something he needs to speak to you about urgently.’

  There wasn’t much he and Kelly agreed on, but not helping rich pricks like John Prescott weasel his way out of a divorce settlement was one of them. If Kelly was telling him to go, he was way over any line.

  Her tone brooked no argument. Which was excellent, because he was looking for a fight, and Kelly was an excellent sparring partner. He was tempted to stay and push, but then he caught Clarissa’s soulful owl eyes, fixed on him in silent entreaty, and as always, they did something to him.

  Fuck. He was a mess. Kelly was right. Making jokes about a client’s wife’s inner muscles was inappropriate. Even for him. He needed to leave the room before more damage was done. He stood and excused himself. ‘John, my apologies, I’m required elsewhere. You’re in safe hands. Kelly’s the best.’

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he was genuine. As far as investigators went, he wouldn’t find anyone more committed or skilled.

  ‘If your suspicions are correct and your wife is being unfaithful, we’ll provide all the evidence you’ll need to protect yourself in court,’ he heard Kelly say as he left the room.

  He started back towards his office, but then realised that what he really needed was to get out for a while, away from all these witnesses to his misery. He changed clothes and joined the rest of the lunchtime crowd in a long, hard run along the banks of the Yarra. It was the first run he’d been on in a while—his lungs burned, his legs were like lead and he could feel it in his rib, which, in the one good news story from that week, had turned out not to have a fracture after all. He didn’t care. He pushed and pushed and pushed, till he couldn’t take anymore, then he turned around and started back.

  It hadn’t helped, he mused as he hit the showers close to an hour later. He had the sweat, the bursting lungs, the sore muscles, shouldn’t he also get the clear head and the endorphins that went along with intense exercise? Not today. He was just as angry as he’d been before the run.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Charles said, as Jack walked back into the office, hair still damp.

  Great. Someone had told Charles about the personality problems he’d developed during the meeting with Prescott. He followed Charles to his office and took the seat opposite him. ‘Kelly squealed?’ He’d save Charles the trouble of building up to it.

  ‘Clarissa actually,’ Charles replied calmly. ‘And she didn’t squeal. She came to talk to me because she’s worried about you.’

  Jack’s mouth twisted. He looked out for Clarissa, not the other way around.

  ‘Speaking of, and before we get to you and your problems, a heads-up. I’ve assigned Clarissa her first case.’

  Everything in Jack protested violently. Clarissa had talent but she wasn’t ready. Not for her own case. He wasn’t generally over-protective, but Clarissa was
different. He’d found her, he’d brought her in, so it was natural that he should feel responsible for her. He didn’t want her out there by herself.

  He swore under his breath. He could feel his forehead puckering. ‘What case is this?’

  ‘Possible corporate espionage at MacPherson Gold, the mining company.’

  Another long-standing corporate client with something out of the ordinary going on. Must be something in the water. ‘This is your solution to our personnel shortage? I know resources are tight, but Clarissa needs more mentoring.’

  ‘I disagree. This is a perfect job to start with. It’s observation only, and my suspicion is, there’ll be precious little to observe. I don’t believe anything nefarious is going on.’

  Jack had to admit, as a first solo job, it didn’t sound too bad. But he still didn’t like it.

  ‘I wouldn’t send her out if I thought she’d be in danger,’ Charles added, somewhat affronted.

  No. Jack knew Charles didn’t take risks with his people. But this was Clarissa, and he still didn’t like it. ‘We really can’t cover it any other way?’

  ‘It’s not just that,’ Charles said slowly. ‘Clarissa has her licence. We can’t hold her back forever. If we don’t use her, eventually she’ll start looking for opportunities elsewhere.’

  The frown didn’t leave his face, but Jack didn’t comment any further. Charles was right. They weren’t going to be able to keep Clarissa doing desk jobs much longer. And the truth was, the job didn’t sound too dangerous. It was a perfect first case, and infinitely preferable to Clarissa leaving to join one of the many cowboy outfits out there.

  Jack nodded. He was going to have to suck it up.

  ‘So, today’s meeting with John Prescott …’ Charles returned to his original point. ‘Do you honestly need me to tell you that you were out of line? Prescott Logistics provided almost five per cent of our revenues last financial year. Perhaps you could bear that in mind before you insult John or his wife again.’

  ‘Oh come on, Charles. He married a girl whose bust is twice her age and five times her IQ, and then has the gall to act shocked and appalled when she starts banging her personal trainer?’

  ‘Your point?’ Charles replied coolly.

  ‘The guy’s not stupid. He should have seen it coming.’

  ‘Is this John we’re talking about?’

  He sent Charles a baleful glare.

  Charles ignored it. ‘Take some time, Jack. Go sort yourself out. Get your head together.’

  Just him and his thoughts? No thanks. He didn’t need more time to think about how Selina had chosen fear and a necklace over a future with him. He didn’t need more time to think about how he thought they’d made a deal and she’d broken it. ‘I need to work.’

  ‘If this continues, it won’t be a suggestion.’

  Not a suggestion? What the fuck?

  Jack stood, faced down his best friend of twenty years. ‘You start playing the boss card, this arrangement is at an end.’

  ‘You almost cost us one of our most valuable clients. You leave me with no choice but to play the boss card.’ He waved for Jack to resume his seat. ‘As it happens, I’m not speaking as your boss. I’m speaking as your friend.’

  Right, the friend card. Yeah, well, pretty hard to stay pissed in that case. He sat. Charles might be talking as his friend, but a rest was not what he needed. ‘I fucked up. It won’t happen again.’ He couldn’t stand the look in Charles’s eyes a minute longer. It didn’t go as far as pity, Charles wouldn’t insult him like that, but it was close. ‘So is that it?’

  ‘No. You had a visitor while you were out.’

  The bottom almost fell out of his stomach. ‘Who?’ He knew who he wanted it to be.

  ‘Who do you think?’

  Selina. He could almost smell the faint trace of apple and caramel in the air. ‘What did she want?’

  ‘She came to return the necklace.’

  She’d come to return the necklace.

  The sensation of relief, of joy, was overwhelming. She’d changed her mind. She’d made the right choice. He smiled genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever.

  ‘I told her to hold on to it until she could return it to you in person,’ Charles continued. ‘I didn’t know how long you were going to be, your movements have been a little erratic of late, and Selina had to return to work. I suggested she call back after work this evening.’

  This evening? He didn’t want to wait that long. He wanted to track her down right now.

  But he’d wait, let her make her statement with the necklace.

  And then he’d wrap her in his arms and never let go.

  ***

  Selina walked the teeming lunchtime streets of the CBD, gusty with spring winds. Spring winds but not much spring sunshine. Typical Melbourne. She drew her coat a little tighter around her.

  Would returning the necklace give her another shot with Jack? That’s not why she was doing it, but as a reward for being a good girl … well, Jack was about the best prize she could ever imagine. Hand-delivering the necklace would hopefully help her cause. It was a burden she really didn’t want to carry anymore but Charles was right: she needed to give it back to Jack in person.

  And if he wasn’t open to giving her another chance? She smiled to herself. She’d just pursue him relentlessly until he changed his mind. He should know by now who he was dealing with.

  Her phone sounded. A text message.

  Jack?

  He was back in the office. He’d heard she was just there, and he wanted her to come back. Right away.

  Wouldn’t that be nice?

  Smiling, she drew the phone from her bag. It wasn’t from Jack. It was from Anna. Short and simple.

  Selina, Spring Street. Empire. Now. Tell no one.

  Chapter 19

  Selina stopped dead.

  The message had come from Anna’s phone, but it wasn’t from Anna.

  She regarded the phone in her hand in shock, like it was a piece of alien technology dropped into her grasp from the heavens above.

  Lewis. She knew it was him.

  And if Lewis had Anna’s phone, he had Anna. Panicked fear rose, churned through her in waves of bitter acid.

  She couldn’t lose herself to blind panic. She had to stay calm and think.

  Selina, Spring Street. Lewis knew where she was.

  Was she being watched? Even now?

  She jerked her attention from her phone. She had come to a stop in the middle of a crowded sidewalk, and people flowed around her like she was a rock parting a stream. She scanned faces as they passed, searching for hints of recognition, but there were too many, moving too fast for her to pick out details.

  It occurred to her that someone watching her, following her, would not be moving. They would be still, as she was. She switched her gaze to the mid-range: a young man under a blossoming cherry tree, one hand in his pocket, talking and laughing into his phone; a woman crouched in front of a pram, adjusting the straps for her toddler; an older couple, grey heads down, engaged in a good-natured squabble over a map. None of them were paying any attention to her. Could she trust that, or did it merely mean that whoever Lewis had sent to track her was good at their job?

  Did it matter if she were being followed or not? She only had one course of action. If Lewis had Anna, she had to get to the Empire. Her feet were already steering her in the right direction. She moved briskly along the street, side-stepping and weaving through the human traffic.

  Tell no one.

  Those were her instructions. It would be foolish to go against them, but walking into the Empire blind and without support was also risky.

  Jack. She needed Jack. He was the only one she trusted.

  How could she get a message through to Jack without Lewis knowing? If there was someone following her in person, she could attempt to use her phone discreetly. But what if her phone were bugged? If Lewis had some way of knowing she had used it …

  She
couldn’t use her phone. She couldn’t risk what he might do to Anna in retaliation.

  Think, Selina, think.

  A third party, someone on the street—could she attempt to get help that way?

  She didn’t have time for explanations and there would be no point bringing in a stranger who had no understanding of the danger. If she were going to get a message through, it was going to have to be without her helper’s knowledge.

  She cast around for potentials. A young man in a suit was approaching her, eyeing her up and down as he talked into his phone. He couldn’t be any older than twenty-five. Perfect.

  Closer and closer he came … She fell into him.

  ‘My ankle,’ she gasped, clutching her ankle with one hand and gripping the guy’s arm for all she was worth with the other.

  He ended the call, shoved the phone quickly in his pant pocket and slipped his other arm around her waist to support her. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, brows furrowed in concern.

  Leaning on him, she released the ‘sore’ ankle, testing and retracting her leg like a newborn foal. She pulled a face and allowed a sheen of tears to mist her eyes. ‘I can’t stand on it. I think it’s broken.’

  ‘Oh no.’ Genuine sympathy in his hazel eyes. ‘What can I do?’

  ‘If you could just help me to that bench over there, I’ll have a better look.’

  Leaning heavily into him, she hobbled a step, before letting out a pained gasp.

  ‘I’ll have to carry you,’ he said stoically.

  Who was she to prevent him playing the hero to a damsel in distress?

  She retrieved his phone from his pocket as he swung her up in his arms, revelling in his role. Selina wasted no time. She turned into his body and buried her face in his shoulder, shielding the phone from the world.

  Jack’s number. She’d dialled it repeatedly when he was missing, and luckily she had a good memory for numbers.

  A short text message. That’s all she had time for, but it had to be clear. Crystal clear.