by Sue Fortin
Tex made sure the folder was closed, the contents readily available but hidden until he was set to reveal his ace card. Man, was he going to enjoy wiping the smug smile from that jerk’s face.
Mark sat down in front of the desk. ‘Well, good afternoon. I’m so glad you want to do business.’
Tex sat impassively on the other side, relishing the thought of what was about to happen. Mark Barnes wouldn’t have that self-satisfied grin on his face for much longer.
‘You got the photos?’ He needed to know they were here before he began.
Mark nodded and patted his side pocket.
Tex carried on. ‘Put them on the table so I can see them.’
‘You can trust me, you know.’ Mark took the envelope from his pocket, dropped it on the desk. ‘You got the money?’
Tex picked up the envelope and looked inside, counting the five polaroids. He was just about to take them out of Mark’s reach when Mark placed his hand over the top of his.
‘Not so fast. Let me see your end of the bargain.’
‘Sure.’ Tex reached down and lifted up a small holdall from the floor. Dumping it on top of the desk, ensuring it covered the envelope, Tex pulled open the neck to reveal bundles of twenty-pound notes.
Avarice oozed from Mark’s eyes at the sight of the money, beads of perspiration breaking out across his brow. He went to touch the bag, but Tex pulled it out of reach, relieved to see that the envelope had been dragged from the desk too. As he slid the holdall off the desk and onto his lap, he hoped the envelope had fallen to the floor. He daren’t risk looking down. Not yet.
‘Yeah, about that arrangement,’ began Tex frowning, shaking his head slightly. ‘I’m gonna have to renegotiate.’
‘What?’ The incredulous look was a gratifying sight.
‘Let me explain.’ Tex put the holdall on the floor, allowing himself the opportunity to glance down. He trapped the envelope under his foot. That wasn’t going anywhere.
‘Just what are you playing at?’ demanded Mark, his eyes darting back and forth, scanning the desk. ‘Where’s the envelope?’
‘Oh, you can quit worrying about the envelope, I have that in safekeeping.’ Tex was on his feet as quick as Mark. Both leaning across the desk, their faces only inches apart. Tex’s voice was low and steady. ‘Sit down.’ He wondered for a second if Mark was going to do something stupid. In a way, he hoped he would. Busting Mark’s face would satisfy Tex no end. It was, therefore, slightly disappointing to see Mark sit back down.
Mark straightened his jacket, adjusted his cuffs. ‘So, would you care to explain?’ From the wary look in Mark’s eyes, it was all bravado.
Tex picked up a folder he had by the side of the desk. He opened it and lifted up the first sheet so Mark could see.
‘Goldings Casino. August last year. A loss of five hundred dollars. Goldings Casino. August tenth. A loss of seven hundred dollars. Goldings Casino. August fifteenth. Oh, a slight win that time. One hundred dollars.’ He looked at Mark, who it seemed had a great poker face, but that’s about as far as it went. ‘Fast forward a couple of months and the losses keep coming. November. One thousand dollars lost. Three thousand dollars lost. You weren’t getting any better, were you? But the stakes were rising.’
‘And your point of all this?’ said Mark tightly.
‘I’m just coming to that. I’ve done a quick calculation and it seems over the past six months, you’ve gambled away a total of nearly sixty thousand dollars. Now that’s a lot of bucks.’
‘No law against it.’
‘No, you’re right.’ Tex picked up another sheet of paper. A change of tact. Confuse him. ‘Marsha Davenport. Pretty girl. How old is she? Erm, it says it right here, oh yeah, twenty.’
He could hear Mark take a deep breath as he tried to act nonchalant. ‘Again, no law against it.’
‘No, again you’re right, but I don’t know what her daddy would say. Now, if I’ve read this right, Peter Davenport is her father and also an investor in the football academy. He’s put up a lot of money. Nearly one hundred thousand dollars.’ That got his attention all right.
Mark slammed his hand on the desk. ‘Where are you getting all this from? How the hell did you find that out? It’s confidential.’
‘That’s not really important, is it?’ Tex took yet another sheet of paper from the file. Was he enjoying this or what? ‘You know, under Californian law, embezzlement is punishable by imprisonment.’
‘Embezzlement! You’re just guessing. You’ve no proof of that.’
‘Well, the thing is Mark, I don’t actually need proof. I can just hand this right over to the authorities and they’ll do the rest. Of course, they probably won’t be interested in you hooking up with Marsha Davenport, but I suspect that daddy will be, and it ain’t gonna be pretty.’
Mark got up, clearly agitated, and started pacing the room. ‘What do you want? You got the photos. What’s this all about?’
‘Sit down.’
Mark did as he was ordered.
‘I don’t plan on doing anything with these,’ said Tex.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You get that house sold and you repay the company. No gambling it away. You repay your gambling debts with the balance.’ Tex fixed him with a hard stare. He could tell Mark wasn’t expecting that.
‘What, and you won’t say anything?’ Mark’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why are you so keen to get the house sold? That’s not what Anna wants. What’s the catch?’
Tex shrugged. He wasn’t about to say that he wanted the house sold so Anna had as few ties with Mark as possible. ‘No catch. You repay your debts. Part two of the deal. Tomorrow you go to the solicitors and instigate divorce proceedings. Part three of the deal. You destroy any copies you may have made of those pictures. If I so much as suspect you’ve shown them to anyone, then I’ll be posting this little lot off to the authorities with a copy to Peter Davenport.’
‘You’re going to a lot of trouble for my wife.’
Jeez, he couldn’t help himself, could he? What Anna ever saw in this slimeball, he didn’t know. ‘Part four.’
‘Part four!’ exclaimed Mark.
‘Yes, part four. You even think about mentioning any of this to Anna, then I will also tell Daddy Davenport about the termination you paid for his daughter to have.’
That was his ace, his trump card. If Mark thought that once the money had been restored to the business account he was off the hook and free to blackmail or print those pictures again, then he was wrong. Tex watched the colour seep from Mark’s face as he swallowed hard. It was a done deal.
Chapter Twenty Nine
The restaurant had been open for business for nearly a week now and so far everything had run smoothly. Barely a problem, certainly none that the customers would notice, thought Tex, as he sat back in his office chair. He picked up the local newspaper that had a feature about the opening. Too bad about the photo, but the write-up was good.
The sound of breaking glass cut through his thoughts. ‘What the…?’
Tex jumped to his feet, pushing his chair back but then checking himself. If there was someone breaking in, he needed to be prepared. He looked round the office, nothing obvious to defend himself with. If he could get to the kitchen then he had a whole host of items to choose from. However, the noise had sounded as if it had actually come from the kitchen, which also meant whoever was trying to get in, if they had already succeeded, that they too had the same choice of weapons.
He listened intently, trying to make out if there was anyone in the building. He moved silently out of the office to the kitchen door and, resting his ear against the door, listened again. There was some sort of muffled rummaging noise and then what sounded like metal sliding against metal. Whoever it was didn’t appear to have made it inside the premises.
Slowly, Tex opened the door. The kitchen was in darkness but he could just make out the broken pane of one of the leaded windows. Someone appeared to be bending over
on the other side of it. Whoever it was must be standing on the wheelie bin to be that high up.
Tex weighed up his options. He could call the police, but by the time they arrived whatever this person had planned to do would no doubt be accomplished by then, and said person wouldn’t hang around. The other option was to creep around the back and catch him by surprise. Returning to the office, Tex picked up the front door keys and his cell phone. He made a quick and quiet call to the police and, ignoring their instructions not to confront the potential intruder, Tex made his way out the front of the restaurant, picking up a large black umbrella that had been left by the door. Anything was better than nothing.
Keeping close to the wall of the old church building, Tex made his way to the front corner. Aware that his silhouette would be framed by the street light, he tentatively poked his head round the corner, and seeing it was clear, light-footedly made his way down the side of the building. Before he reached the end came the sound of a man’s cry, followed by a thud, the sound of metal crashing to the ground, and then groaning.
Tex took his opportunity and charged round to the back of the building, feeling slightly ridiculous as he brandished the umbrella. He stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.
‘Well, I’ll be…’ said Tex, approaching the man sprawled out in a heap on the tarmac.
‘Don’t just stand there, call an ambulance, I think I’ve broken my arm,’ demanded Andy Bartholomew.
‘That will match the window then,’ replied Tex, the adrenalin pumping wildly through him. He grabbed the curator by the collar and went to haul him up, but Andy’s screech and cry of pain stopped him. ‘Arsehole.’ Tex let go and Andy flopped back to the ground, groaning in pain.
It was then that Tex saw a metal cage, the sort usually used for transporting cats to the vets; however, that was no cat looking back at him. A pair of black beady eyes glinted in the moonlight. Jeez, Andy was going to put a rat in the kitchen.
‘Son of a bitch.’ Tex toe-poked Andy in the thigh. He crouched down and gripping Andy’s chin in one hand, turned his head towards him. ‘So it’s been you. The graffiti, the fire, the scratching up of my truck. It was you all along. Why?’
He released his grip a fraction so Andy could speak. The words were almost spat out.
‘You think you’re something special. Riding into town, everyone adoring you, including Anna. Making a fool out of me. So in love with yourself. Sleeping with anyone you care and then just dropping them when you’ve had enough. Well, you don’t deserve to be here and Anna would be better off without you. The town would be better off without you.’
Tex shook his head. ‘You crazy jerk, what do you think this is, High Noon?’ He turned at the sound of police sirens and blue flashing lights bouncing off the buildings. ‘Looks like the cavalry arrived just in time to save your sorry arse.’
Anna managed to sulk with Nathan for several days. Since her argument with Mark and the break-up with Tex, she had gradually become more and more miserable. She still went through the motions of the day, going to the gym, working for Jamie, but it was all with a heavy heart. Always the blanket of sadness engulfing her. Even the three A*’s, two A’s and a scattering of B’s and C’s Luke got for his GCSE results couldn't lift her mood. She hated Mark living with them but she knew she didn’t have any choice it in. The sooner the house was sold and she could move on, the better, and with Tex out of the frame now Mark didn’t have any reason to harm him.
Up until Christine's visit last week, Anna still had half a hope that somehow her and Tex would get back together. However, that last shred of hope seemed dashed now; Christine would not have wasted the opportunity of giving Tex a shoulder to cry on, whilst secretly calculating how to win him over. Seemed like her plan was working if Tex had invited Christine as his guest for the opening evening.
The tears still caught her by surprise when she thought about Tex, fantasising about how they could make things work, remembering those glorious days and nights spent together. His sensual touch, his beautiful kisses, his generosity to her feelings, and their lovemaking. Oh how she missed him. The pain she felt in her heart never diminishing.
Today Anna was having a rare day at home alone. Mark was on parent visiting duties and had taken Luke along too, they wouldn't be back until much later that evening. She had agreed a tenancy on a flat and was due to pick the keys up in a couple of weeks. Anna knew she really should be packing some more of her things, but she had been thrown off-kilter when she came across the jar of olives Tex had bought her.
She had put the jar of olives in her bedside table, along with her passport. Why there and not in the fridge, she had no idea, but then again, she hadn't exactly been thinking straight that week. Not after her confrontation with Mark.
Studying the jar of green olives, Tex's words coming back to her. ‘A little each day.’ ‘You will learn to love them.’ She unscrewed the lid and after a couple of attempts, managed to secure an olive between her finger and thumb. Tentatively, she nibbled the end.
‘Yuk!’ She scrunched her face up but ate it all the same. Somehow it made her feel closer to Tex, doing something he had wanted her to do. If only everything else were that simple.
A knock at the front door jolted Anna from her thoughts. Popping the lid back on the jar, she jogged downstairs to see who it was.
‘Christine!’ The last person Anna expected to be standing on her doorstep. The smug look on her visitor's face alarmed Anna immediately. ‘What are you doing here?’ She looked past Christine towards her car, half expecting to see a drunk Nathan sitting there.
‘Don't worry, I haven't got your precious, married, father of four, brother in the car.’ Christine waved a newspaper in front of Anna's face before pushing it towards her. ‘But I do have this. Page eight.’
Anna rustled through the Sussex Observer until she got to page eight. Her heart tripped, surged and fell simultaneously as she took in the picture staring back at her. Tex standing outside the Arundel restaurant, surrounded by his staff, looking handsome in his chef's whites, his beautiful eyes smiling back at the camera, matching his infectious smile. He looked good. The not so good bit was his arm around the waist of a woman. Tall, slim, long flowing waves of brunette hair, immaculately dressed in a little black number. Her arm around Tex, smiling or was it gloating? The same smug smile that Christine now had on her face.
Anna fought every urge in her body to scream out loud. She wouldn't allow herself to crack in front of Christine. No way would she give Cruella the satisfaction. ‘And your point in coming all this way to show me?’
‘Just thought you might be interested, that’s all.’
‘So had enough of messing around with my brother and moved on to Tex now, have you? Huh!’ retorted Anna, trying to stop her voice from breaking. Tex and Christine! She could barely believe it.
‘Oh please! Me and your brother? He was far too under the thumb to be any fun.’
‘More like prefers his wife to you.’ Childish comment, yes, but Anna felt better for saying it.
Christine’s mouth twisted into something resembling a smile. ‘Enjoy the paper.’ Then turning on her heel, she swaggered back down the path.
Anna spread the newspaper out on the coffee table and, kneeling on the floor, made herself methodically and carefully read the whole article, looking for any clue, any reference as to what Christine was doing in the shot.
The article never mentioned her. Not once. It gave some background to Tex's early career, where he was from, together with details of his restaurant in Guildford. But nothing about Christine. Anna studied the photograph. Tex definitely had his arm around Christine's waist.
The familiar pain of a knife being twisted in her heart and the feeling of sadness in the pit of her stomach began to erupt. Here she was, still grieving for him, still missing him, still wanting him, and there he was happy, smiling, hooked up with someone else. He had got over her, already moving on to a new woman. She must have meant nothing to him.
Anna could feel her heart pounding, a new emotion rising within her. A fierce burning anger that was raging through every part of her body. Tex had well and truly reeled her in, hook, line and sinker. All his comments and condemnation of Mark's behaviour, only to be just like him. Angry and hurt, she screwed up the newspaper.
‘You're a fraud, Tex Garcia. A fraud!’ she shouted at the crumpled paper. ‘A liar! Just like Mark. Do you hear me?’
Of course he couldn’t hear her. God, if he were here now she’d give him a piece of her mind. She paused. Everyone was always telling her to stand up for herself, not to let people walk all over her. Well, maybe just this time she would speak up. Nice Anna, who always tried to smooth things over, avoided confrontation – what a loser she turned out to be. Lost her husband. Lost her boyfriend. About to lose her home. Maybe she just would give Tex what for!
Chapter Thirty
Funny how it seemed such a good idea at the time, when her hurt and anger were at their peak. Anna had already driven by Tex's apartment, but when she saw his car wasn't there, now found herself standing outside the new restaurant, hand paused in mid-air as she re-evaluated her wisdom. She dropped her hand to her side. She had been so incensed, not to mention upset, by Christine's visit, Anna had just grabbed her bag and car keys and driven straight over to Arundel. She didn't even remember much of the journey. She had obviously negotiated the A27 between Chichester and Arundel successfully, but her mind had been on Tex and not her driving.
In her blind fury, she hadn't even stopped to consider the timing of her appearance. The restaurant wasn't due to open for another hour, although the main doors to the entrance foyer were open. Through the inner glass doors she could see waiting staff busying themselves in anticipation of the evening service.
Now that her initial rage had subsided to a simmering wrath, she wondered whether she could actually go through with this. Perhaps she should just leave it. Tex had moved on, and she should accept it.