by Elise Noble
But I needn’t have worried, at least about the eau de cheval. Nobody answered my knock, and when I pressed my ear against the door, the flat was silent. Wait, was that a creak? Or—
“Reckon she’s out, hun.”
Oh, shit. Busted. Could I have looked any more guilty? Probably not, but Gemma’s next-door neighbour didn’t seem bothered, not while she was trying to fit a twin buggy out of her front door and also avoid the massive bag hung over her shoulder getting stuck on the frame.
“Here, let me help.”
I grabbed the bag and nearly tore my biceps off the bone. Wow. She sure didn’t need to go to the gym, not if she carried that around all day.
“Ta. It’s a nightmare when their dad’s out at work.”
“I’m not sure the lift’s working either.” The look of despair on her face made my heart lurch. “Maybe if I took the front of the buggy…?”
“Would ya mind? Bloody stuff’s always breaking around here. The management don’t do nothing. Gemma lends a hand, but like I said, she’s not there. When she’s in, she always has the telly on, and I can hear it through the wall.”
“When did you last hear her? I work with Gemma—used to work with her—and she left me a slightly odd voicemail message earlier. I just want to check she’s okay.”
“She was here this morning. I heard her hoovering right before the kids’ cartoons came on.”
“What time was that?”
“Just before ten, would’ve been. But the telly was on for mebbe an hour after that. What’d she say? In her message, I mean?”
“Not an awful lot, to be honest. Just that she was uncomfortable about something. Then she said he was coming, and she’d call me back. But she never did.”
“He? She probably meant Ryland. He’s a right tosser, that one. Or the bellend before him. Even after she dumped that loser, he kept texting.”
“Why would you say Ryland was a…” The word stuck in my throat. I cursed, yes, but mostly in my head and never that particular word. “A tosser?”
“He spends, like, an hour every morning on his hair, the vain prick. And when he’s not primping, he’s lifting weights. Or scoring steroids. No way he got those muscles without them. They met at the gym, did you know that?”
A muscle-bound hulk—that description certainly matched the man I’d seen waiting outside the gallery for Gemma.
“No, I didn’t know. And what about the other one? The loser?”
“Kev, Trev, something like that. He just didn’t seem to get that she was done with him, so she said. But that was months ago.”
“I don’t suppose if you hear her come home, you could give me a call? Only Gemma’s battery might’ve run out, or…”
“Sure, hun. Gimme your number.”
She entered it into her phone without asking for my name, and I noticed she stored it under “posh bird.” Then I nearly put my back out carrying the front end of two fidgety children in a buggy down the stairs. Good thing I’d paid for an annual gym membership up-front last year—it still had a month left to run, and until my world fell apart again last Wednesday, I’d gone religiously three times per week, which had at least prepared me in some small way for today.
Out on the street, I was relieved to see my car, including its wheels, was exactly where I’d left it, and I locked the doors as soon as I climbed in. The chances were, Gemma was just out with her boyfriend, maybe taking a spinning class or jogging, but I still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. The question was, what should I do about it? What could I do about it?
CHAPTER 35 - BETHANY
“WELCOME TO SIRIUS.”
Judd set a mug of coffee on the table in front of me, and I surreptitiously moved it from the polished wood to a coaster. It seemed his dining room doubled as a conference room, dominated as it was by a large TV on one wall. Naz grinned at me from the screen, his own drink some kind of purple concoction in a highball glass. He took a sip and grimaced.
“Beetroot smoothie,” Judd murmured. “If he ever offers you one, decline.”
There was no danger of me accepting a smoothie this morning. No, today I needed caffeine. There was still no word from Gemma or her neighbour, and last night, I’d barely slept from worrying.
“Thanks for the tip.”
“Any time.” Oh boy, that was one smooth smile. “Day or night.”
Naz guffawed from wherever he was. Russia? He sounded Russian. “Ten minutes she’s been here, and already you’re making the moves. Alaric will kick your zad.”
“I’d like to see him try.”
Ravi walked in, his hair still damp from the shower. “I’d pay money to watch. We could get you both leotards and make an evening of it.”
“I don’t do Lycra.”
“And it wouldn’t just be Alaric kicking your ass—it’d be me and Rune too.”
“Rune?” Judd clapped both hands against his cheeks. “Oh no.”
“Small but mighty, remember?”
“In that case…” He turned to face me. “Ms. Stafford-Lyons, please accept my deepest apologies for my inappropriate comment.”
The back-and-forth banter was all in jest, and I realised working for Sirius would be a world away from the quiet grandeur of Pemberton Fine Arts. Yes, Judd’s comment had been slightly inappropriate, but I’d been warned what to expect, and his interest was oddly flattering after years of Piers telling me to be grateful I was his wife because no other man would want me. I wouldn’t take Judd up on his offer, of course, but it was nice to know there were options. And I couldn’t deny he was pleasant to look at. Short dark hair, a day’s worth of stubble, hooded brown eyes that practically invited a girl to the bedroom. Dimples that popped out when he smiled. Oh my.
The front door slammed, and Alaric appeared a moment later with a large paper bag in one hand. The first thing he did was scowl at Judd.
“Is he behaving?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“A wrestling match for my honour was mentioned, but I think we’re past that now. Which is a little disappointing—I mean, the two of you are quite evenly matched, and the outfits…” My cheeks heated at the thought, and I gave my head a hurried shake. “So sorry. Now I’m the one being inappropriate.”
Judd’s grin grew even wider. “Actually, I think you’ll fit in quite well around here.”
“Does this mean I don’t need to buy popcorn?” Ravi asked. “The CIA versus MI6 would’ve been worth the effort.”
Now I was confused. And also surprised. I suppose I should have guessed that anyone running a private intelligence agency would have a background as some sort of spy, but Judd had been an MI6 agent?
“Who’s CIA?” I asked Alaric. “I thought you used to be in the FBI?”
“CIA then FBI. None of this information goes any farther than this room, okay?”
I nodded. I’d had plenty of practice at keeping my mouth shut over the years—not once had I ever blabbed about either of my parents’ affairs, even after I accidentally walked in on Father balling Mother’s yoga teacher. Thankfully, they’d both been facing away from me. I might have had to wash my eyes out with bleach afterwards, but I’d never breathed a word.
“I understand.”
Alaric pointed at Judd. “Ex-MI6, much to his mother’s irritation.”
“She didn’t approve of your career choice?” I asked. “I know that feeling.”
Judd snorted.
“No, she didn’t want him to quit,” Alaric told me. “Naz is former SVR—Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki Rossiyskoy Federatsii, also known as Russia’s foreign intelligence service—but to all intents and purposes, he no longer exists.” He waved to his left. “And Ravi came from the circus.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You should see him on a trapeze.”
At first, I thought Alaric was joking, but he looked dead serious, and then I remembered the way Ravi had jumped and flipped over the laser beams in the escape ro
om. Maybe there was some truth in it? And what about the other revelations? Why didn’t Naz exist anymore? And why did Judd’s mother hate that he’d quit MI6? Surely she should have been relieved if the James Bond movies were anything to go by?
I pointed at myself. “Former housewife. I might not know much about intelligence services or, uh, trapeze, but I’m organised, and I make an excellent cup of tea.”
“Well, I can’t make tea for shit apparently, so welcome aboard,” Judd said. “I’m afraid I’ll have to love you and leave you, though. My train to Brussels leaves in an hour.”
“He always puts the milk in first,” Naz muttered.
I gasped. “That’s sacrilege.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Judd walked around the table and leaned down to kiss me on the cheek, then poked Alaric in the forehead. “Stop frowning, old man. There were no tongues.”
Weirdly, I thought I might actually grow to like this job.
At least until late morning, when I was so tired that I couldn’t stop yawning. Four cups of coffee hadn’t made a dent in my exhaustion, but I needed to focus. Alaric had already talked me through the scheduling system twice.
“Could you just go over the colour codes again?”
“Red is me, green’s Naz, blue’s Judd, and yellow’s Ravi. If it’s something all of us are involved with, colour it black, and personal tasks are purple. Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry—I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
His expression morphed from businesslike to concerned. “Because of…? You know, Saturday?”
“No, not that. I’m fine with that. Honestly. All in the past.”
“Do you often have trouble sleeping?”
“Only when I’m stressed.” I didn’t want to bring my personal problems to work, especially on my first day, but I didn’t know who else to talk to. “A friend left me a voicemail yesterday morning, and she sounded…uh, just listen to it.”
I fumbled my phone out of my handbag and clicked play. Would Alaric think I was overreacting? I’d been flipping and flopping all night about whether to call the police. In the end, I’d decided to give Gemma until this evening to get in contact.
Alaric listened to the message once, then a second time. “You called her back?”
“I didn’t pick up the message until yesterday afternoon, and her phone’s been off since then. And she hasn’t been home. I checked, and her neighbour’s keeping an eye out for me.”
Despite the circumstances, I was proud I’d spoken to a stranger. Usually, I shied away from anything more than small talk at parties.
“She’s not at work?”
“I-I’m not sure. I can hardly call Hugo.”
Alaric didn’t press me, just pulled out his phone. “Does Gemma have a boyfriend?”
“Yes, Ryland.”
Alaric dialled and listened for a second. “All right, mate? It’s Ryland. Gemma’s boyfriend?” His accent had changed again. This time, he sounded like David Beckham. “Yeah, yeah, I know she’s not there. She’s ill. That’s why I’m calling. She won’t be in today.” A pause. “Dunno, I’m not a doctor. … Sure, we’ll keep you updated.” He hung up. “She’s not there.”
I got that, but where the heck was she? At least now that Alaric had called in sick for her, she wouldn’t get fired.
“Now what?”
“Did you try the cops?”
“Not yet. She hasn’t been gone for a full day. Doesn’t a person have to be missing for at least twenty-four hours before the police will take a report seriously?”
“Generally, unless there’s evidence of foul play. It’s a crazy rule. If someone’s come to harm, the first twenty-four hours are the most critical. You said you’d been to her apartment?”
“I tried knocking, but nobody answered, and I don’t have a key to go inside.”
“We’d better get over there. Ravi?” he called. “Are you busy?”
A chill ran up my spine. “You think Gemma might have come to some harm?”
“No friend leaves a message like that if everything’s fine, and only the most callous of fools would leave you to fret over it for a day afterwards.”
Ravi materialised in the office doorway. “You called?”
“One of Beth’s friends is missing. We need to take a look in her apartment.”
He didn’t even question Alaric. “Two minutes. I’ll get my stuff.”
On the way to North Acton, I filled Alaric and Ravi in on the conversation I’d had with Gemma’s neighbour.
“Two questionable boyfriends?” Ravi mused. “Bad run.”
“Has she been herself at work lately?” Alaric asked. “Did she become quieter? Or jittery?”
“She became sort of…scatterbrained. And a little cagey. And I saw a bruise on her once.”
Alaric’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Don’t worry; we’ll find her.”
Why did his words make me worry more?
When we arrived in North Acton, Alaric parked the SUV in the next street and we headed for Anslow Place. The place looked just as grim as it had yesterday, albeit quieter.
“A man held the door open for me last time. But there aren’t many people around today, so maybe—”
I’d been about to suggest that we try the intercom for flat 2e, Gemma’s neighbour with the twins, but Ravi stepped ahead, fiddled with the handle for a second, then pulled the door open.
“What do you know? It was unlocked. After you.”
Alaric ushered me through with a light touch on the small of my back. “Second floor, right?”
“Uh, yes. I hear the lift isn’t very reliable.”
“Taking the stairs is a good idea anyway. It gives you more options.”
“Options?”
“It’s harder to throw somebody down a lift shaft. All those pesky safety features.”
I laughed, but nobody else did. Alaric was joking, wasn’t he? I mean, he had to be.
From the outside, Gemma’s flat looked exactly as it had when I left last night. The same tired blue paint on the front door, a scratched white plaque alongside telling me I was at 2d. And it was still silent inside. Perhaps I should have slid a note under the door, just in case?
Alaric knocked, and we waited. Nothing.
“Maybe the management company has a spare key,” I said, then glanced towards the window at the end of the hallway. Filthy, and it even had a crack in it. “Not that the management company seems to do much around here.”
“Is that a spider?”
Ravi pointed at the ceiling behind me, and I spun around.
“Where? Where?” Yes, I understood spiders were a valuable part of our ecosystem, but they still gave me the creeps, okay? I backed away and trod on Alaric’s foot by accident. “Sorry! Where’s the freaking spider?”
I heard a quiet click behind me, and when I turned, Gemma’s door was creaking open.
Ravi chuckled. “Guess I must’ve been mistaken.”
“How did you do that? How?”
“Practice. Shall we take a look?”
Ravi was already wearing thin black leather gloves, and Alaric handed me a pair of disposable ones as we stepped over the threshold, the kind you got in hospitals. It felt wrong to be walking into somebody’s home uninvited, and somehow, dressing like a burglar made it ten times worse. But if Gemma really was in trouble, she’d want us to investigate, wouldn’t she?
“What if a neighbour calls the police?” I whispered.
Another chuckle from Ravi. “In this place? They won’t.”
There spoke the voice of experience, which should’ve worried me a bit seeing as I was now working for this man. He clearly had a shady past, and I barely knew him. But honestly, having Ravi and Alaric along made me feel secure. If I’d come alone, I’d still have been standing outside, jumping at my own shadow.
Inside, the flat was, well, not exactly pristine, but there were no signs of a struggle or anything untoward. It appeared for all
the world as if Gemma had just gone out to get milk and never returned.
“Can’t see a purse anywhere,” Alaric said. “Do you know what Gemma’s looked like?”
I racked my brain. “Pale pink, medium-sized, not flashy or anything.”
Ravi tapped lightly on the counter dividing the living room from the kitchen area. “There’s a purse-sized gap here. And mail from Saturday.”
“Anything interesting?” Alaric asked.
“Just a loan circular and a discount coupon for a nail salon.”
“Search the place?”
“I don’t know what other options we have.”
They’d clearly done this before. The pair of them checked Gemma’s whole flat, combing through everything from her bathroom cupboard to her underwear drawer with a clinical efficiency that left me cold. Alaric made me check in the pockets of every item in her closet while they lifted the mattress, checked beneath cabinets, and even dismantled part of the toilet tank.
“Are you done yet? This is horrible,” I whispered.
“Horrible that your friend’s missing?” Alaric asked. “Or horrible that we’re looking for her?”
When he put it like that… “It’s just so invasive.”
“The police would do the same thing. Hey, what’s this?” He’d been thumbing through a folder full of paperwork, and now he held up an official-looking document. “Hmm. A restraining order, expired last month. Ever heard of a Kevin Waite?”
A chill ran through me. A restraining order? “No, but her neighbour mentioned one of the men she dated was a loser called Kev or maybe Trev who wouldn’t leave her alone.”
“Sounds like our guy. He got banned from coming within a hundred metres of her.” Alaric quickly checked the rest of the papers. “Nothing else of note. I’ll take a picture of this.”
Despite the thorough search, the flat looked the same when they finished as it had when we’d arrived. Perhaps Gemma herself would notice something out of place, but I couldn’t.
“Anything else?” Alaric asked Ravi as he emerged from the bedroom for the final time.