‘Face it, Cosmo,’ she said with a wry twist to her lips. ‘I can’t take it like I used to.’
She had a quick wash, slipped into a tank top and the boxers she slept in and crawled between crisp, cotton sheets. Cosmo crept up to the pillows and wrapped himself around her head, a bit like a furry nightcap, purring like a traction engine.
‘Shut up, baby,’ she murmured, falling almost instantly asleep.
She was woken at the crack of dawn by what sounded like a noisy army on the march: presumably the grooms heading for work. She felt remarkably rested and a little smug since there was no sign of the hangover consumption of the best part of a bottle of wine entitled her to. She pushed back the covers, stood up and stretched. After a quick shower and glance out of the window to decide what the weather had planned, she pulled on a pair of favourite old jeans and a sweatshirt. Cosmo deigned to stir only when she slid her feet into her shoes. He stood in the centre of the bed Alexi had just carefully made and indulged in a slow, feline stretch, arching his back and thrusting his front legs out as far as they would go. Pathetic whining noises from outside her door told Alexi that Toby was pining for his new buddy.
‘Come on then,’ she said to Cosmo. ‘I think I can smell bacon frying.’
That was all the motivation Cosmo needed and he was at the door before Alexi had even started to cross the room. When she opened it Toby bounded in, wagging and jumping all over Cosmo as though they hadn’t seen each other for months. Alexi waited to see how Cosmo would respond, ready to intervene if necessary. Her taciturn cat wasn’t big on the affection front unless he was the one to instigate it. She relaxed when Cosmo gave Toby a gentle head butt and the two of them headed off down the stairs in the direction of the kitchen.
‘Morning,’ Drew said, turning back from the stove where he was frying the bacon that had lured her and Cosmo downstairs. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Like a log. I never sleep like that in London.’
Drew screwed up his nose. ‘Too much going on in the big, bad city.’
‘Actually, it’s so quiet here, I thought it would stop me from sleeping, but it didn’t.’
‘Grab a seat. Breakfast won’t be long.’
Alexi opened the cupboard where she’d stowed Cosmo’s food and opened a packet. He wound himself around her legs until she placed his bowl on the floor. She thought Toby would want to share, at which point things might get violent, but he wisely kept his distance.
‘He’s already had his,’ Drew said in response to her quizzical look.
‘Where’s Cheryl?’
‘Just getting up. I had to almost tie her down at first to make her rest—’
‘Too much information.’
Drew laughed. ‘She’s finally being a little bit more sensible. Anyway, before she comes out, have you had any more thoughts about Natalie? I’d rather you told me first, especially if it’s not good news.’
Alexi told Drew about her online search. ‘That was just a short foray and I already know a ton of stuff about her life.’ She frowned. ‘That’s why this so-called social media age is dangerous. Once something’s out there, it can never be pulled back. Why did she feel the need to tell the world she’s thinking of investing in a share of a racehorse? That implies money and will attract all sorts of unsavoury people.’
Drew put aside his spatula and gave Alexi his full attention. ‘You think she’s been groomed?’
‘It looks that way, but let’s not jump to conclusions. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at her home after breakfast, just to get more of a feel for her, then we’ll decide where to go from there.’
‘Where can we go? I mean, the police aren’t too bothered, I don’t suppose the dating agency will tell us anything, and—’
‘I could take a peek at her email. See who she’s been talking to.’
‘You can do that?’ Drew looked impressed. ‘It’s true what they say about the intrusive nature of modern journalism then?’
‘I haven’t hacked into any royals’ phones. Yet.’ Alexi laughed at Drew’s horrified expression. ‘I did a story once on computer security and a master hacker taught me the rudiments of his modus operandi just to demonstrate how easy it actually is, or to—’
‘Or to impress you so he could hit on you?’
She shrugged. ‘My point is, it’s not that hard. Anyway, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Despite what you think, I don’t make a habit out of invading people’s privacy online, just because I can. It’s a last resort.’ Well, usually. ‘Let me look at her place first.’
‘Sorry, we can’t come with you. We have a lunch party for twenty people this Sunday and we have to be here to talk to the customer. There’s really no need, but I think they’re a bit star-struck and insist upon meeting Marcel.’
‘Marcel?’
‘Our chef. I hope to Christ he behaves himself. It’s impossible to know. He’s a bit like your cat. If he takes a dislike to someone, he can be incredibly rude.’
‘Perhaps Cosmo is French, and his temperament is genetic.’
Drew grinned. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Give me the address and Natalie’s keys and I’ll find my own way.’
Cheryl joined them at that point. Alexi followed Drew’s lead and kept the conversation general, barely referring at all to Natalie. Cheryl seemed preoccupied about the arrangements for the big lunch party and didn’t raise it herself. Once breakfast was cleared away and Cheryl was elsewhere in the house, Alexi took directions and keys from Drew and then called to Cosmo.
‘Come on, Cosmo, we’ve got an assignment.’
‘I’ll be damned!’ Drew said when Cosmo calmly followed Alexi towards the front door. ‘It’s like he knows what you just said to him.’
‘Oh, he does. He always comes on assignments with me. He’s a better guardian, and way more ferocious, than any dog.’ Toby whimpered. ‘No offence, baby,’ Alexi said, bending to scratch the little dog’s ears. ‘Right, Drew, I’ll catch you later.’
***
The gardens to the front and side of Sundial Cottage told their own story. Bursting with orderly colour, nary a weed in sight, it was obvious that whoever lived there had green fingers and a talent for making flowers thrive. Tyler recognised all the usual suspects for that time of year—daffodils, tulips, primroses—but that was as far as his knowledge went. There was a mass of colourful stuff crawling over a wall, and a whole patch of white things in the bed below it. They could be anything. His mother would know, but he could hardly ask her. An ancient sundial, from which presumably the cottage took its name, sat in the centre of a well-tended lawn. The curtains were half-closed and the place had an uninhabited feel to it, even from the outside. He knew before he even knocked that no one would be at home.
Time for a good snoop.
He peered through the living room window and saw nothing to excite his interest. No signs of a scuffle or a hasty departure; everything neat and orderly, which told him absolutely nothing. He would have to get inside and take a closer look. Sighing, he rounded the left flank of the cottage, looking for a point of entry that wasn’t visible from the road. This was a quiet lane with little or no passing traffic and no immediate neighbours, but even so, it paid to be cautious. Tyler wouldn’t like to explain to his ex-colleagues why he was breaking and entering.
There was a newish navy-blue Mini Cooper with a garish pink roof parked at the side of the cottage. It hadn’t been visible from the lane. Preoccupied by thoughts of its ownership, he failed to notice a massive grey and white ball of fury launch itself from the branches of a tree like a guided missile until it was too late to take evasive action.
‘Whoa there!’
He instinctively held up his arms to protect his face. The missile landed at his feet, hissing like it bore him a grudge. It was a cat. The largest, sleekest, most pissed off cat he’d ever seen. It had obviously been camped out in the branches of the tree it had just vacated in such dramatic fashion and now seemed to be debating whether or not
to attack Tyler.
‘Hey, puss.’ He held out a hand for inspection, hoping his fingers would survive unscathed.
The cat sniffed his hand, taking his time to make up his mind about him. Tyler remained impassive, content to wait him out.
‘Nice pussy,’ he muttered, wondering where such an odd-looking creature had sprung from. It would be more at home in a zoo than a country garden.
Instead of attacking Tyler, the feline eventually rubbed its large head against his jeans.
‘Glad we got that one sorted out,’ Tyler said, reaching down to scratch its flat ears. ‘Who do you belong to, big guy?’
‘Who the hell are you?’
A woman rounded the corner of the house, wielding what looked like a garden rake. From the hostile look in her eyes he figured she was about to take over where her cat had left off, using the rake as a substitute for the feline’s sharp claws.
‘Ms. Parker?’ he asked, immensely relieved that Natalie Parker was at home, alive and well, even if she did seem a tad aggressive at having her privacy invaded.
‘I asked first.’
‘Tyler Maddox.’ He delved into his pocket and produced a business card from his wallet. She reached forward and took it from him with one hand, but kept a firm grip on the rake with the other. ‘Private investigator.’
‘Investigator? What are you investigating?’
‘We received a report that you might be having trouble with a guy you were dating.’
‘Who reported that?’
‘Hey, no need to be so defensive.’ He held up his hands, palms out, as though warding off an attack. ‘I’m on your side.’
She looked at him with open suspicion, which is when Tyler realised he’d probably jumped to the wrong conclusion. The picture he’d been given of Natalie Parker, and those he’d seen of her online, showed a woman a good decade older than this one, with a blond bob and soft grey eyes. This one was taller; at least five eight, without an ounce of spare flesh on her, and was quite a looker. She had slim legs that refused to quit and looked damned good in tight denim. She sported a waterfall of brunette hair that tumbled over her shoulders, high cheekbones, a pert little nose, a wide, lush mouth and huge, arresting silver-green eyes. Eyes that remained fixed upon him with misgiving while he took her measure and liked what he saw. She looked familiar, too. He’d seen her somewhere before but couldn’t immediately place her.
‘You’re not Natalie Parker, are you?’
Without replying, she pulled an iPhone from the pocket of her jeans, placed the rake against the wall where she could reach it again in a hurry if she needed to, and started pressing buttons. Tyler figured she was checking him out. Smart lady.
‘Fenton-Maddox Investigations in Newbury,’ she said, as though speaking to herself.
‘That’s me.’
‘I know. I’m looking at your website.’ She glanced up at him, then back at her phone. ‘This picture looks like you, except you’ve grown your hair longer.’
He shrugged, not knowing what to say to that. The silence worked for him and, appearing to make up her mind that he wasn’t an axe murderer, she extended her hand.
‘Alexi Ellis,’ she said. ‘Natalie’s friends are worried about her. They sent me to check her place out.’
‘You’re the journalist,’ Tyler said slowly. ‘That’s where I know you from. I’ve seen your picture often enough above your byline.’
‘Thanks.’ She looked as though she was about to say something more, then closed her mouth again.
‘I take it you have a key to the cottage.’
She nodded. ‘Who are you working for?’
Tyler had a feeling that Alexi Ellis could be the break in this case he’d been hoping to find. But she was also a journalist, probably on the trail of a story, and he wasn’t sure if he could trust her. Still, she was all he had and if he didn’t tell her something, he was pretty sure he’d get nothing in return.
‘Heart Racing Dating Agency.’
She brightened. ‘Ah, so they’re taking this seriously. Have there been other problems?’
Tyler shook his head. ‘You know better than that.’
She flashed a non-apologetic smile. ‘Can’t blame a girl for trying.’
‘What did you find in the cottage?’
‘Sod all,’ she replied, shrugging. ‘But I don’t suppose you’ll accept my word for it so you might as well come in and see for yourself.’
Tyler followed her into a neat cottage that had a musty smell to it, as though it had been shut up for a while. There was a small lounge, an eat-in kitchen, two bedrooms upstairs. Books lined the walls, mostly about flowers, photography and horses. Nothing looked out of place.
‘All that’s missing is her laptop and phone. I gather she had an iPad and I can’t find that either.’
‘When did your friends last see her?’
‘Four days ago now. Who was she dating? Come on, Tyler,’ she coerced when he hesitated.
‘Let’s look at the rest of the place first,’ Tyler replied, playing for time. ‘What’s that big building out the back?’
‘I was about to investigate when Cosmo found you.’
‘Cosmo?’ Tyler quirked a brow. ‘Cute name.’
This time her smile was uncontrived. ‘I’ve heard many adjectives used to describe Cosmo, but cute is definitely a first.’
‘He likes me,’ Tyler replied, bending to give his ears another scratch, just to make a point. ‘Do you always take him on investigations?’
She grinned. ‘Face it, he’s pretty damned efficient. He scared the shit out of you.’
‘Flying felines with attitude aren’t something a guy encounters every day.’
‘You’re not the first person to mention that,’ she said as Cosmo trotted along between them, all sweetness and light, as they headed for the outbuilding.
He chuckled. ‘I believe you.’
Alexi sorted through her bunch of keys and found one that fitted the lock.
‘This must be her work space,’ she said as they stepped inside. There was a long surface with vases, oasis, ribbons, wires and all sorts of other stuff neatly arranged beneath a large window that would give her maximum light to create her floral art. There was also a desk in one corner with a space where her laptop must usually sit and, tellingly, a phone with the message light flashing. Alexi saw it before he did and pressed the button to play back her messages.
The first was from someone called Cheryl.
‘Your friend?’ Tyler asked.
Alexi nodded. The second was from Cheryl, then there were several business enquiries before Cheryl’s voice came through again, sounding increasingly concerned. Then a frantic lady.
‘Ms. Parker, I was expecting you this morning with my husband’s wreath. Really, this is too bad of you. How could you let me down at such a time? As if I didn’t have enough to cope with. I am very disappointed in you.’
Tyler and Alexi exchanged a look.
‘She reneged on an order,’ Alexi said. ‘From what Cheryl has told me, she simply wouldn’t do that. I wasn’t absolutely convinced that anything had happened to her, but now I’m not so sure.’ She fixed Tyler with an accusatory glower. ‘Your clients must think so too. Otherwise they wouldn’t have called you in.’
‘Let’s call the lady back and see what she has to say,’ Tyler replied. ‘Then we’ll go somewhere else and talk about it.’
Chapter Four
‘Damn, an answering machine.’
Alexi left a message for Mrs. Dixon, Natalie’s aggrieved client, and then turned towards Tyler to see if he had any ideas about where they went from there. They? Since when had she decided to partner-up with him? He was standing closer than she’d realised, watching her with unnerving stillness. Startled, her hand instinctively flew out as she fought to keep her balance.
Why did he feel the need to invade her personal space? Did he imagine Mrs. Dixon might answer and say something about Natalie’s whereabouts that Alexi chose not
to share with him? She bit back a smile. If he carried on with the tough, intimidating private eye routine then she just might hold out on him, if and when she had information to withhold. She hated the alpha male posturing she saw all the time in her line of work and wanted to tell Tyler she wouldn’t have survived five minutes in the still predominantly male domain of serious journalism if she couldn’t play the big boys at their own game.
She was unsure how she felt about having run into Tyler in the first place; less sure still whether she trusted him. Working alone and jealously guarding her sources was second nature to Alexi, but she reminded herself that this time she didn’t have to worry about being scooped on some in-depth exposé she’d spent weeks investigating. It was more serious than that. Natalie’s life could well hang in the balance.
Part of her was glad that the dating agency was taking things seriously enough to call in a PI. The journalist in her still baulked at the prospect of sharing, even though she didn’t have much idea where to go from here. Two heads were better than one, especially if Tyler had access to the agency’s database. She could sense he didn’t trust her, presumably because she was a journalist. She didn’t trust him because he would put his own client’s interests ahead of Natalie’s, and probably hide behind client confidentiality.
Unfortunately Tyler Maddox was not of advanced years, with an expanding waistline and overinflated ego to compensate for his receding hairline. At least six-two, he was much too easy on the eye for Alexi’s comfort. And far too distracting. She figured he had to know it, and didn’t hesitate to trade upon his physical attributes to get what he wanted. Alexi might be off men, but she wasn’t blind. Be that as it may, she had his measure. She could appreciate his rugged good looks without allowing them to affect her judgement or sway her to his point of view…probably.
He had thick dark curls falling across intelligent chocolate brown eyes, a strong, chiselled jaw sporting a day’s worth of stubble, a high forehead and symmetrical features that complemented one another just fine. Disgruntled, and feeling disadvantaged, Alexi examined him more closely, looking for flaws. No one was that perfect.
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