Thunder in Europe (Department Z Book 6)

by John Creasey

  She wriggled over to him and nestled under his outstretched arm, running a gentle hand down his bare chest towards the darkness of his groin. He stirred slightly, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes before his penis reacted, springing to attention beneath the sheets. Hannah let out a giggle. He slowly curled his arm around her and pulled her onto him. He opened one eye with a lazy grin.

  ‘What are you trying to do to me?’ he asked in a husky voice.

  ‘I’m not doing anything. You’re doing a pretty good job all by yourself.’

  ‘That’s because you’re near me. I’m incapable of hiding any feelings when you’re around.’

  ‘I’ve heard of wearing your heart on your sleeve, but in your trousers?’ Hannah laughed as she bent to kiss him. It didn’t look like she was getting out of bed just yet.

  *

  Hannah rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. Twelve-fifteen. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep again. In fact, she hadn’t meant to have sex again either, but with Mitchell naked beside her it was pretty hard not to.

  The clatter of pans reached her from the kitchen downstairs, and she rolled over to see that the other side of the bed was empty. It was then that she also noticed the incredible smell seeping into the room.

  Pulling her kimono around her, she padded downstairs to investigate.

  Mitchell was in his boxers and Hannah’s frilly apron and little else. He was standing at the stove frying a pan of bacon and whistling softly to himself. Hannah cleared her throat and he turned to face her with a broad smile.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d want to sleep all day so I thought I’d wake you with a nice treat,’ he said.

  ‘You already did that,’ Hannah said, raising her eyebrows.

  ‘Something a bit more edible and nutritious,’ he laughed. ‘Sit down, gorgeous, let me look after you for a change.’

  Hannah pulled a seat from under the table and settled onto it. The floor was chilly under her bare feet so she tucked her legs up to rest them on the frame of the chair. Mitchell placed a coffeepot on the table with two mugs and the milk. ‘You don’t have sugar, do you?’

  ‘No,’ Hannah said, impressed that he had remembered. Jason had continued to ask for most of their relationship, and that was when he could be bothered to make coffee for her, which wasn’t very often.

  Flicking the stove off, Mitchell transferred the bacon onto waiting slices of bread arranged on the work surface. Hannah watched as he added this and that and finally turned with a flourish holding two plates aloft.

  ‘Voilà! Bacon butties à la Bond.’

  ‘Bacon butties?’ Hannah giggled. ‘Aren’t they a bit working class for you?’

  ‘I’m wounded by that comment,’ he said, pretending (though not doing a very good job) to be hurt. ‘I’ll have you know I was raised on the roughest estate in Millrise. I might have a few bob in the bank now but I’ve never forgotten my roots.’

  Hannah became thoughtful as he brought their plates to the table. It was the first time he’d mentioned money, and she couldn’t help but wonder how much he had. Was his company worth a lot? He and Martine obviously had a lot of money together but Hannah had no idea whose income had contributed most to their joint pot. She now wondered whether Mitchell’s company had some bearing on Martine’s fight to keep him, despite her behaviour now coming to light. And recalling all this only brought her own fears for her relationship with Mitchell back to the fore. Was any of this real? Were they strong enough together to weather this? Or would Martine eventually succeed in breaking him and bringing him back to the marital home? She certainly seemed determined, despite what he had remembered. If only Hannah could see all the pieces of the puzzle, she might be able to fit them together and find some answers.

  ‘Are you ok?’ Mitchell asked, peering at her.

  Hannah shook herself. ‘Of course,’ she smiled. ‘This breakfast looks lovely. I can’t remember the last time a man cooked for me. Unless you count the guy who flips the burgers in McDonald’s.’ She bit into her sandwich, realising she was ravenous. ‘Wow! This is incredible! How do you get the bacon to taste like this?’

  He shrugged. ‘I like cooking and I seem to be good at it. At least, they tell me so.’

  ‘You must be, because it never tastes like this when I do it.’

  ‘Perhaps you can taste the love in it too.’

  Hannah felt the blush rise to her cheeks. Was that a declaration? Was that it – were they in love?

  ‘I thought maybe we could take a walk later,’ he said. ‘You can show me around.’

  ‘Show you around the fields and dirt track that passes for a road in these parts? That won’t take long and I can’t imagine it would be very inspiring.’

  ‘I like fields.’

  ‘Well that’s good because there are a lot of them. But…’ Hannah’s mind went back to a pile of work on her desk in the office upstairs. It would be glorious to spend every second of every day with Mitchell, but if that meant running her business into the ground…? People said you could live on love but Hannah doubted you could pay your gas bill with it.

  ‘Oh…’ Mitchell said, reading her immediately. ‘Of course; you must have loads to do. I forget.’

  ‘Don’t you have to go to the office at some point too – see what’s going on?’

  ‘Graham told me to take a week off and get straight. He’ll take care of things while I’m missing.’

  I bet he will, Hannah thought. She was beginning to develop a deep distrust of Graham the more she heard about him. She wondered if it ought to be Mitchell being paranoid and not her, but he didn’t seem concerned at all. There was something not quite right here, and Graham was getting far too much control of Mitchell’s company as far as Hannah could tell. Should she voice her concerns? Would Mitchell think it was none of her business? Would he think she was being silly? After all, what did she know about his company and how it was run?

  Mitchell took a bite of his sandwich. He chewed slowly for a moment as he held Hannah in a thoughtful gaze. ‘Have you checked your video camera this morning?’

  Hannah blinked. ‘To be honest, I’d forgotten all about setting it up last night. I blame you for that – you and your sex vibes leading me astray.’

  ‘Guilty as charged. But please…’ his expression became serious, ‘please set it up today. In fact, I’ll do it myself before I go, then I’ll know it’s definitely done.’

  ‘Are you saying I’m unreliable?’

  ‘No, I’m not. But it would put my mind at rest if I could see for myself it was sorted. It’s worrying me, knowing this weirdo is hanging around.’

  ‘We don’t yet know he’s a weirdo. There could be a perfectly innocent explanation.’

  ‘Hmmm…’ Mitchell’s noncommittal answer revealed that he didn’t believe that for a minute, but he didn’t want to argue with her. She couldn’t blame him for that – she didn’t really believe it was innocent either but she didn’t want Mitchell to worry. She also had the strangest feeling that the mysterious driver wasn’t necessarily hanging around her house to watch her. In fact, the more she thought about it the bigger the pool of suspects and reasons grew. Could it be something to do with Mitchell himself? Was Martine after a good angle to screw him out of a decent divorce settlement? Hannah had to be on her toes if she was going to be one step ahead and find out what was going on. She’d have a word with Gina and get her to talk to Howard. Gina wouldn’t be happy about that but Howard was about the closest link to Mitchell’s business world that Hannah could think of and he might hear some gossip in his day to day dealings that would give them some clues.

  *

  They’d had a lazy brunch, despite Hannah’s assertions that she had work to do and was seriously behind schedule. The opportunity to spend time with Mitchell was just too tempting to resist. Eventually, Hannah had forced herself to make a move and had started to clear away while Mitchell went to get showered and dressed. She was elbow deep in suds at the sink when he returned and c
rept up behind her.

  ‘Get off!’ she giggled as he brushed her hair aside and began to kiss the back of her neck. ‘You’re not getting me back into bed again no matter how hard you try.’

  ‘Who said anything about bed?’ he breathed into her ear.

  ‘Stop it,’ she laughed, but his hands were already at her groin, and she could feel his erection pressing against her. She moaned softly as his fingers worked and he rained kisses on her neck until she was ready to explode, and then he eased himself gently inside her.

  It was brief but incredible, and ten minutes later he nuzzled into her hair as she caught her breath, her hands still buried in suds in the washing up bowl.

  ‘We really need to develop some self-control,’ she panted. ‘Otherwise we’ll be bankrupt or hospitalised with friction burns, or both.’

  ‘I can’t help it,’ he murmured. ‘You do things to me.’

  ‘I do believe you were doing things to me. I was the innocent party and you took advantage of me while I was unprepared.’ She turned to him, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘I’m going to get a shower and you are not to follow me.’

  ‘I don’t think I could if I tried,’ he laughed, fastening his jeans before sinking into a kitchen chair. ‘I think you’ve worn me out.’

  ‘I keep telling you; that’s your doing, not mine.’ She kissed him lightly. ‘Don’t go anywhere – I won’t be long.’

  With a huge smile plastered to her face, Hannah left him in the kitchen. Passing her phone sitting on the mantelshelf, she noticed the missed calls on the screen. One was from Gina, and Hannah made a note to call her as soon as Mitchell had gone. Two more since the first that morning were from Chris. Hannah’s good mood evaporated. She was going to have to put him straight no matter what Gina said; it wasn’t fair to the poor man. Shower first, and then she’d get rid of Mitchell before she called Chris back.

  But that stubborn, irritating, no-friend-of-Hannah’s little cow called fate had other ideas. No sooner had Hannah made the decision than there was a knock at the front door. Mitchell appeared at the kitchen doorway.

  ‘Want me to get it?’ he asked.

  ‘Better not. You never know who it is – it might be someone who shouldn’t know you’re here.’

  ‘I don’t care who knows I’m here,’ he said, starting towards the hallway.

  ‘No… it’s fine. I’ll get rid of them. It’s probably George or Briony or someone.’

  Hannah carefully closed the living room door behind her before she opened the front one, and she was glad that she had. She felt the blood leave her face as Chris stood grinning on the doorstep.

  ‘I probably should have given you some warning,’ he said, giving her kimono-clad form a swift and appreciative once-over, ‘but you weren’t answering your phone so I thought, as I was this way, I’d pop in.’

  Shit! Why had Hannah let him bring her home that night? She should have realised that letting him see where she lived was a bad idea. What was it about her that made everyone feel they could turn up whenever they felt like it?

  ‘It’s um… It’s kind of a bad time right now,’ she said, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold now biting through the flimsy layer of silk that was her only protection. What was she thinking of, answering the door in that? It was lucky it hadn’t been George; she’d probably have given him a heart attack. All she could think about now was how she could get rid of her unwanted caller.

  ‘I won’t stay long,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I just wanted to see how you were and find out how your sister is getting on with her settlement.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but you can’t come in.’

  He looked crestfallen. ‘But I came all the way out here…’

  So much for just passing, Hannah thought. He’d obviously decided that it was ok to turn up regardless of whether she wanted it or not. The idea irritated her. ‘Sorry,’ she repeated, feeling more like a giant bitch by the second. ‘Gina’s still on track, as far as I know. If it helps, I’ll speak to her later and let you know if there are any developments…’ Even as she was finishing her sentence, Hannah was closing the door, leaving him out on the step. She leaned against it and blew out a long breath, waiting for the sound of footsteps that would signal Chris had gone.

  ‘What was that about?’ Mitchell asked as she returned.

  ‘It’s a long story. It was a guy I had one date with who now seems to think it’s ok to turn up at my house at the drop of a hat like we’re old friends. I mean, he’s nice and everything but…’ Hannah stopped mid-sentence. Mitchell looked… what was that look on his face? ‘You’re not jealous, are you?’

  ‘Do I have anything to be jealous about?’

  ‘God, no!’ Hannah said. ‘I had one date with him and he’s helping Gina to buy a house – well, one of his houses actually.’

  ‘One of his?’ Mitchell frowned. ‘He sells them? Builds them?’

  ‘Renovates. One man band, he says. He does one up, sells it on and buys the next to do the same all over again.’

  ‘I started out like that,’ Mitchell said with a faint smile. ‘Why didn’t you ask me to get Gina a house? I could have sorted it.’

  ‘Could you? I thought you dealt with large commercial properties – hotels and stuff.’

  ‘I do, but I have plenty of contacts. I could have found her a place.’

  ‘You’d probably have ended with Chris’s name anyway; there can’t be that many of you property developer types around these parts.’

  Mitchell was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Chris? Is that Chris Price?’

  ‘Yes! Your memory is getting better by the hour! You know him then?’

  ‘I know of him. I think Graham knows him, though. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow; check he’s kosher.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s any need for that, he’s…’ Hannah checked herself. It obviously made Mitchell happy to try and look out for her so perhaps it was easier to let him.

  ‘So… you’re not going to see him again?’

  ‘If it makes you feel better I’ll wear a blindfold when I go with Gina next to discuss the house.’

  ‘Very funny. You know what I mean.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t think you’d mind if I pencilled a threesome in the diary for next Tuesday afternoon.’ Hannah held him in a steady gaze.

  ‘Sorry.’ Mitchell gave an awkward grin. ‘Ok, so that was a stupid question.’

  ‘And a little insulting too.’

  ‘It’s just…well, with what happened between Martine and me…’

  Hannah crossed the floor and buried herself in his arms, the previous moment’s vexation forgotten. ‘There’s one big difference you’re missing here – I’m not Martine, am I?’

  ‘I know; I’m sorry.’

  ‘And I’ll never, ever hurt you.’

  *

  The footage Hannah found on the camera was pretty useless. Mitchell had made her promise to take care of it before he would leave her the previous day, and she had dutifully done so. During daylight the lane had been as quiet as always, and when night fell the darkness was so dense that it was almost impossible to detect movement other than the occasional eerie reflection in a pair of nocturnal eyes staring unknowingly into the lens – foxes, badgers… but certainly no mystery Volvo drivers.

  Hannah muttered to herself as she reset it. If what she had recorded so far was anything to go by, it seemed like a waste of time, but she’d promised Mitchell she’d keep it running and he’d probably want to test her on it or something. She was starting to feel a bit silly about the whole thing now. Who on earth would want to watch her dull little house?

  Glancing at her watch, Hannah caught her breath. Once again, the morning had got away from her. She’d promised Briony she’d call at lunchtime with some posters she’d knocked up for a charity sewing bee. She was getting used to Briony, learning how to avoid making herself the subject of gossip, and was even beginning to enjoy their little meetings. The cakes alone made it worthwhil
e, although she wondered whether Mitchell would still love her when she looked like one of the Tellytubbies…

  But if she didn’t get her skates on it’d be more like bedtime when she arrived. The amendments she’d been asked to do on a set of promotional postcard designs for a local high school had taken longer than she’d planned and then there’d been the camera to check…

  Restarting the camera, Hannah positioned it on the windowsill as before. Then she pulled her coat on and headed out to Holly Farm.

  *

  ‘These are brilliant!’ Briony unrolled a poster and held it up to inspect. ‘You’re so clever!’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Hannah said, ‘I only just knocked them up. It is what I do for a living, after all.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t know where to start.’

  ‘I’m sure I wouldn’t know where to start connecting a cow up to a milking machine either,’ Hannah smiled.

  ‘Neither do I,’ Briony laughed, ‘as we don’t have cows.’

  Hannah giggled. ‘Oh yes, I forgot about that. Well, I wouldn’t know how to dip a sheep then.’

  ‘You must let me give you some lunch to say thank you.’

  ‘There’s no need…’ Hannah began, but Briony held up a hand to silence her protests.

  ‘Yes there is. You must let me do something to repay you. Besides, I’m making a cottage pie and there’s far too much, even for Ross and Paul with their gargantuan appetites.’

  ‘That does sound lovely. You’re very kind.’

  ‘It’s settled then. Make yourself at home and I’ll put some veggies on.’

  Hannah sat down at the table and shrugged off her jacket. ‘Will Ross and Paul be back to eat with us?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Briony said as she pulled a handful of carrots from the fridge. ‘They usually take sandwiches and stay out on the fields all day. They’ll eat late, but it’ll be a huge meal to make up for it.’