by Lyn Gardner
In Maggie’s opinion, the method of interrogation that Alex used that night was excessive, but when the man broke under the intimidating pressure which Alex had applied, Maggie was duly impressed. As they walked from the kitchen after learning the location of the boy, Maggie found herself being pulled into Alex’s arms. It was a hug of friendship and of a job well done, but when Maggie felt her body betray her again, she knew that if she wanted to live the life she had planned for herself, she needed to get as far away from Alex Blake as possible. They could never be partners. They could never even be friends.
Standing on the sidewalk, Maggie did the only thing she could think of to ensure they would never become partners. She criticized Alex’s police work, fully aware that if there was one thing that Alex Blake took pride in, it was how she did her job.
Chapter Twelve
After sequestering herself in the bathroom for almost thirty minutes, by the time Maggie went back to the kitchen for her tea, it was barely tepid. With a sigh, she gulped it down, and then noticing a new bottle of scotch sitting on the coffee table, she walked over and poured herself a healthy splash. Sitting on the chair by the fireplace, she lazily propped her legs on the ottoman and stared into the flames. Lost in the same thoughts that had kept her locked in the bathroom, Maggie sipped her drink, totally unaware that the woman sitting on the sofa was staring at her.
In the shimmering light of the fire, Maggie’s auburn hair had turned golden, and watching as she pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, Alex grinned. It was something that she had grown accustomed to seeing Maggie do when they had worked together, and Alex was convinced that the unconscious habit could never possibly grow old. Captivated, she wondered if Maggie had any idea how beautiful she was…any idea at all.
Startled from her thoughts when Alex stood up, Maggie watched as she grabbed her coat and walked toward the door. Having already brought in enough firewood to last the night, Maggie asked, “What are you doing?”
Guiltily, Alex reached into her pocket and pulled out her cigarettes, holding them up so Maggie could see.
“You don’t have to go outside. You can smoke in here,” Maggie said. Seeing Alex raise an eyebrow and tilt her head, Maggie grinned. “There’s no law against smoking in here.”
“Oh, I see,” Alex said with a smile, tossing her coat on the chair. Getting another cup from the kitchen to use as an ashtray, she returned to her spot on the sofa. Noticing that Maggie was again staring into the fire, Alex said, “Can I ask what you’re thinking about?”
Taking a deep breath, Maggie took a sip of scotch. “My father. He probably thinks I’m dead.”
“Maggie, you can’t think like that.”
“No?”
“We’ve both been on cases where a person’s gone missing. The parents never give up. It’s not in their nature. Until someone can bring him concrete proof that you’re dead, he’ll keep thinking you’re alive. He doesn’t have a choice. He’s your dad.”
“I suppose you’re right. He is quite stubborn.”
Amused that the daughter apparently didn’t fall far from the father’s tree, Alex took a quick drag of her cigarette to hide her grin before asking, “What about your mother?”
“She died when I was born.”
“Oh, sorry,” Alex said quietly. “That must have been tough. Not knowing her, I mean.”
Whether it was the scotch heating her blood, the fireplace warming her body, or the comfort she felt being alone with Alex Blake, Maggie took another sip of her drink and then began to talk.
“I never knew her, but I know everything about her. I don’t think a day went by when my dad didn’t tell me a story about her, or how she did things a certain way. I know how she looked, how she folded clothes. I know her favorite color and flower, her favorite book. I know that she liked simple things, and hated fancy clothes and makeup, and all she ever wanted to be was a good wife and mother.
“My dad was in the Royal Air Force, and we moved around quite a bit when I was young. I had just turned thirteen when we moved to Leuchars, and while my father was at work, I started unpacking some of the boxes. I came across one that was all dusty and beat up, like it had been moved around a lot. Well, being quite the inquisitive teenager, I opened it, and inside I found a collection of books on how to raise a child. On the very top was one called Naming Your Baby, and on the cover the name Margaret was written in big, loopy letters. When my dad came home, I asked him about the books, and he said that my mum had bought all of them the day she found out she was pregnant with me. She wanted to make sure that she did everything right, even down to my name. It had to be perfect.
“He told me that she had spent hours reading the books, learning everything she could, but up until the day I was born, she couldn’t decide on a name.” Stopping to take a sip of her drink, Maggie went quiet for a moment. Finally, she said in a whisper, “Dad said that she picked it out minutes before they left for the hospital. It was the last word she ever wrote.”
Seeing the sad look on Maggie’s face, Alex said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.”
“It’s not…not really. It was a long time ago, and I never knew her, but I know I have the name she wanted me to have, even though I never go by Margaret.”
“Why not?”
“Because my dad hates it,” Maggie said, laughing out loud. “He loved my mum, and wanted to abide by her wishes, but apparently he thought the name was too formal for a little girl, so he always called me Maggie. Actually, he called me Magpie when I was a kid, but when I reached puberty, he changed it to Maggie.”
“Magpie, eh?”
“Don’t go there,” Maggie warned playfully.
“It sounds like you and he have a great relationship.”
“We do. I’m sure it was tough on him raising me – a girl – alone, but it never seemed that way. He was a Group Captain, and I used to watch him through the window at school shouting orders at his men, but when we came home at night, he’d lie on the floor with me and play with my dolls. I can’t remember a time when he ever raised his voice to me…or his hand. It’s funny. I didn’t have many friends growing up since we moved so much, but the ones I did have always thought that he was so strict, but to me, he was just my dad. If he wanted me in bed by eight, then I was in bed. If I had chores to do, I did them.”
“It sounds like he was very…formidable.”
“No, not at all, it’s just that whenever he talked about my mum, he’d get this big smile on his face. He would absolutely light up, but then he’d get sad. I never liked seeing him like that, so following his rules seemed a small price to pay to make him happy. That was, until I told him that I wanted to go to university.”
Puzzled, Alex asked, “Why?”
“I think he wanted me to be like my mum, content with just getting married and having children, but I wanted more. Don’t get me wrong, he never stood in my way, but the day I left home, even though he tried to hide it, I could see that same sadness in his eyes like after he would talk about Mum, but luckily, he came around,” Maggie said with a grin.
“How’d you manage that?”
“I was always a good student, and university wasn’t any different. Before too long, I was top in my class, and his sadness disappeared. One of his greatest worries was that I hadn’t chosen a career when I had first entered school, but all that changed after I took a class in law. I was hooked. So, after I graduated, I applied to the Met, and by that time he was used to me making my own decisions. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me living so far away, but he never tried to stop me.”
“So he still lives in Scotland?”
Nodding her head, Maggie said, “Yeah. He’s retired now, and remarried. Her name is Jean, and they met shortly after I left for school. It was funny, every time I went home for a visit she’d be around, and Dad would insist they were just friends. I don’t know who he thought he was kidding,” Maggie said with a laugh.
“That must have
been odd though. I mean, all those years it was just you and him.”
“Yeah, a bit, but it was clear they were in love.”
“Then why’d he try to hide it?”
“I think he was just worried that I’d be jealous or angry, and to tell you the truth, at first I was, but the more I saw them together and how happy she made him, the less threatened I felt. I guess I realized that he’d always love me, and he’d always be there for me, and so would she.” Pausing to pour more scotch in her cup, Maggie said, “And right now, I’m glad that Jean’s there for him, because I’m sure he’s crazy with worry.”
Since the moment she had seen Maggie in the airport, there had been a question nibbling at the back of Alex’s brain, and Maggie had just unknowingly opened the door to ask it. Halfway between wanting to know the answer, and dreading what it might be, Alex asked quietly, “So, is there a boyfriend or a husband crazy with worry back in London, too?”
“There was a boyfriend up until the day I met you at the airport, but I broke up with him that morning,” Maggie said. Thinking about all the time she wasted with Glenn, Maggie let out a sigh. “It was probably one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made.”
Holding back a scowl, Alex offered halfheartedly, “I’m sure you can get him back if you want to.”
Maggie shook her head and grinned. “No, the mistake was asking him to move into my flat in the first place. I was trying to be a friend and got myself into a relationship that was never going to go anywhere.”
Although a smile didn’t appear on Alex’s face, a large one blossomed in her heart. Mustering up her most sympathetic tone, she said, “Oh, that’s too bad.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Maggie said, “You know how they say that women are attracted to men who remind them of their fathers?” When Alex’s only response came in the form of a raised eyebrow, Maggie realized what she had said. “Okay, most women,” Maggie said with a snort. “Anyway, Glenn seemed to be a lot like my father, unassuming and good-natured, but it wasn’t enough. I just didn’t love him.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
Without thinking, Maggie replied, “Not that I care to admit.”
“What do you mean?”
Inwardly, Maggie cringed. Truths, loosened by alcohol, were beginning to slip through her barriers. “Oh, um…what I meant to say was no, I’ve never been in love. I thought I was with Glenn. He’s very polite and attentive, but then I started feeling more like a servant and less like a girlfriend. I realized that what we had wasn’t love, it was just convenience. Someone to go out with, someone to hold my hand, someone to warm my bed…but love should be more than that. It should be passion and caring, a willingness to give your all to someone because they’re the reason you breathe…and Glenn wasn’t that person for me.” Focusing on the flames dancing in the hearth, Maggie took a sip of her drink. She didn’t want to talk about love anymore.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asked, noticing that Maggie had gone quiet.
Looking back at the woman whose eyes seemed filled with concern, Maggie said, “I’m thirty-two years old, and I have no idea where my life is going or where I want it to go. I have a good job, which I’m more than capable of doing, but I want to get my law degree, and that means spending lots of time studying. How can you start a relationship when you don’t have the time?”
“You should just stop worrying about it and let whatever happens, happen.”
“Is that what you do, or do you have a boy…um… girlfriend back home?”
“Nope, just Sandy.”
“A dog doesn’t really qualify as a life partner, does it?”
“I don’t know. We normally sleep together, she eats from my plate when I allow her to, and she gives me lots of kisses.”
Chuckling, Maggie said, “And it sounds like you love her very much.”
“I do.”
“But no real girlfriend?”
“No, I swore off of them a few years back.”
“Can I ask why?”
Leaning back on the sofa, Alex propped her feet on the coffee table and took a drink of scotch. “I met a woman named Debra while I was attending a conference in Brighton. She was the concierge at the hotel where I was staying. She was tall, blonde, blue-eyed and gorgeous, totally my type, and eventually we hooked up. We were together for just over two years.”
“You were partners?”
“No, not exactly,” Alex said. “I offered to transfer down to Brighton a dozen times, but she kept telling that she didn’t want me to change my life for her, and every time I suggested that she move to London, she’d come up with some excuse. I didn’t understand why she was so against the idea until I decided to surprise her on Valentine’s Day with a visit. It was on a Friday, so I took the day off so that we’d have the entire weekend together.”
Stopping to light a cigarette, Alex slowly emptied her lungs of the smoke. Letting out a low, throaty chuckle, she shook her head. “It was a typical Hollywood scene. You know the one? I show up with candy and flowers, and find her in bed with someone else. I honestly think I could have handled it, except for the fact that it was a man. She told me that she loved being with me, but she didn’t love the life. She said that need she needed normal…and I was totally gutted. I can’t even remember driving back home that day, but later that night, sitting alone in my flat, I decided that I’d never allow myself to be hurt like that again. It just isn’t worth it.”
Pausing to take another drag of her cigarette, Alex let out a snort, remembering how completely boorish she had been during that time in her life. With a smirk, she said, “I walked around with a fairly large chip on my shoulder for weeks. My life consisted of nothing more than work, food and sleep. I even blew off my best friend for our weekly dinners out just so I could wallow in my self-pity. I was a complete mess, and it went on for months, until one day, Paige showed up at my flat with a gift.”
“Paige? She’s your best friend?”
“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding her head. “Paige knows me better than I know myself at times. Anyway, she walked in the door and placed a small paper sack in my hand, the kind you’d put a sandwich in – you know?”
“Yeah.”
“I had no idea what she was up to and when the bloody bag began to move, I almost dropped it. Inside was a little black and brown puppy no bigger than a tea cup, with the saddest brown eyes I had ever seen…and with one blink, she stole my heart.”
“Sandy, I presume?”
With a wide smile, Alex said, “Paige knew I needed something more to care about than just my work, because it would force me to live again, and Sandy did the trick. So, for the past few years, it’s just been Sandy and me, and I think I can speak for her in saying that we’re both quite happy with the arrangement.”
“Sounds a bit…um…lonely.”
Laughing out loud at Maggie’s assumption, Alex cheerfully corrected the error. “I’m not saying that I haven’t had sex since Debra, I just haven’t had it with anyone whom I wanted to have a relationship with beyond a night or two.”
The conversation was heading in a direction that Maggie did not want to travel. Finding the thought of Alex having sex with another woman somewhat annoying, Maggie quickly changed the subject. “Do you think someone will find us?”
“I’m sure they will, but not until the weather improves. I think you and I are in for a long winter’s nap in this place.”
Nodding, Maggie stood and stretched, and Alex took a second to admire the small amount of skin peeking out from under the woman’s shirt as her arms rose in the air.
“I think I’m going to get some sleep,” Maggie announced. “Are you…I mean, did you…” she stuttered as she motioned toward the bedroom.
“No,” Alex replied, “I think I’ll stay out here.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine, Maggie. Good night.”
“Good night, Alex.”
Chapter Thirteen
After a breakfast of freez
e-dried eggs and sausage, they sat in the lounge sipping their tea as snow floated past the window panes.
“So, what about you?” Maggie asked.
“Huh?”
“Tell me about your family.”
A wide smile appeared on Alex’s face. “Well, let’s see. I have two brothers. James is the oldest. He’s married, has two children and teaches adult education. Kevin is four years younger than me. He’s single and manages a large book store in Soho. My mother is a book editor, and my father is an author.”
“An author?” Maggie asked, “What types of books does he write?”
Chuckling, Alex pointed to the shelf over the fireplace.
Following her eyes, Maggie saw the remains of a paperback book on the mantle. “Oh, you’re kidding!” she exclaimed, jumping up to grab the book. Scanning the cover, her eyes grew wide. “Your father is G. A. Blake?”
Nodding her head, Alex replied, “Yep. Mystery writer extraordinaire, that’s my dad.”
Realizing that Alex had used the book as kindling, Maggie blurted, “And you burned one of his books?”
Laughing out loud, Alex said, “I didn’t read the author’s name, Maggie. At the time, I was more worried about the frostbite forming on my tits!”
Giggling, Maggie sat down, holding the book in her hands. “Do they know? I mean, about you?”
“You mean do they know I’m gay? Yeah, I told them years back,” Alex said. “Just like most, I knew early on, but kept it a secret for years, but by the time I was twenty I was tired of living in the proverbial closet, so I told them. My father got really quiet. My mother started to cry. James was shocked and Kevin…well, Kevin thought it was cool.”
“So, what happened?”
“I went back to school, worried and confused, and I stayed away until spring break. I remember walking into the house that night, wondering if I was still welcome. It was quite late, so after a few unusually stiff hugs, we all went to bed. The next morning when I woke up my father was standing in the doorway of my bedroom staring back at me. He came in, sat down without saying a word, and then he took my hand and told me that he and my mum had done a lot of talking, and they realized the fact I was gay didn’t really bother them.”
