The Daisy Dunlop Mystery Box Set: Lost Cause, Lost & Found, Lost Property

by JL Simpson

  Daisy stood outside the door, steeling her nerves. The duf-duf bass of music thumped the ground. A fog of sour booze-scented air wafted past her, as a burly biker shoved the door open and stomped outside. He gave her a leer as he strode by.

  Shoulders back, head held high, Daisy pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

  A man close to the door winked at her, flashing a toothless smile. “Hey, darling. Look, lads. Fresh meat.”

  It took every ounce of self-control, not to shudder with disgust. Show no fear. The minute they sensed weakness, the pack would move in for the kill. David Attenborough should do a documentary on the English male's propensity to become a lager lout and go out in packs, hunting females.

  A glance around the pub revealed her target. Bald head and the signature tattoo was all the description she needed. He sat on a bar stool next to a vibrant redhead, who giggled at his every word.

  Conversations ebbed and flowed. Laughter punched the air, pool balls smacked together with a thud, and Pit Bull and Flo Rida boomed from the speakers, apparently unable to believe a white girl got some ass.

  She couldn't stand in the doorway forever. She hoped to God the microphone was working. Females were thin on the ground, and every male’s gaze followed her as she walked with a hip rolling gait across the room toward her quarry. Hopefully Solomon was primed for an emergency extraction and was packing heat.

  Daisy reached the bar, rested an elbow on it and stuck her arse in the direction of Nobby hoping to catch his attention. While most of the men in the room appeared to spend hours at the gym, toning their tattooed physiques, Nobby clearly worked out at the local McDonalds, KFC, and Pizza Hut. The extra weight gave him a strangely feminine look. The redhead giggled, and planted a kiss on his cheek as he turned his attention to his beer.

  “Want a drink?”

  The barman leaned on the countertop, staring at Daisy's cleavage. She flashed what she hoped was a confident smile. Her hands shook, as she shoved a finger between her boobs, pushing the microphone deeper into her cleavage. He looked up and smiled, and she took a deep breath. He had to have been admiring her assets, not eyeballing the microphone. She smiled. “Vodka and coke please.”

  The drinks menu written on a chalk board behind the bar proudly declared it was cocktail hour and you could order any number of delicious concoctions, but she figured she’d do well with a spine stiffening spirit. She turned her gaze on Nobby and flashed her best effort at a come-hither look.

  The barman shoved a full glass in her direction. A heavy hand squeezed her shoulder, and Nobby smiled.

  Despite the lack of hair, he appeared to have all his teeth. “S'on me.”

  Daisy grabbed the glass and lifted it toward her lips. “Thanks.”

  Nobby wrapped a curl of her hair around his fat finger. “Is this real?”

  “Hair's mine. Color’s mine too.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, crinkling the bby of his name tattoo. “I've a real soft spot for redheads, but you can only tell if you've got the real deal when they're stark bollock naked.”

  “Trust me, it's real.” Her heart rate lifted as she leaned closer. “I'd show you, but we've got company.”

  “Yep. Shame. Maybe you'd like to go somewhere more private, after.”

  “After what?”

  “After you have another drink.”

  Daisy stood straight, and stared at her glass. She'd downed it all without even realizing. If every investigation involved meeting dodgy men in pubs, she was going to end up with liver disease.

  “Actually, I might skip it. One's my limit.”

  “Okay, Red. Want something to eat?”

  Daisy leaned closer, and Nobby's focus drifted from her face to her boobs. She placed a hand on her chest, covering any view he might have of her cleavage and the microphone. “What I'd really like, Nobby, is to score some cocaine.”

  His head snapped up, and his dark brown eyes all but disappeared beneath furrowed brows. “You what?” He glanced around the room, his gaze darting from person to person before he focused back on her. “Are you a cop, Red?”

  “No. Lisa Brown used to help me out with some gear, but she's in jail. She suggested I try Leo Thompson, but he appears to be missing.”

  “What do you know about Leo?” His scowl deepened.

  She was screwed. Why hadn't Solomon given her some information to work with? Where was he, anyway? Last time she wore a wire at the gym, he was in her ear the whole time. Now all she had was radio silence.

  “Nothing. Really, nothing. It's just a name she suggested.”

  “And where were you going to meet this Leo?”

  Nobby’s beady eyes drilled into her, and the smell of stale sweat and booze filled her nostrils, as he moved closer.

  Daisy fought the urge to run. She’d never make it to the door, in her stupid heels. “Um, she said she'd let him know to meet me at her house.”

  “And did he?”

  “No, he never showed up.”

  Nobby grabbed her arm, and tugged her close. His fetid breath heated her face. “How can Lisa have contacted Leo if she’s in jail? It’s time you told me what’s really going on, Red. Otherwise I might have to turn you over to my boys.”

  Two pudgy middle-aged men appeared behind Nobby. Daisy could try to escape. The goon to Nobby’s right flipped his leather jacket back, far enough to show the butt of a gun shoved in the front waistband of his jeans. She glanced at the door, and back at the man. He could blow his nuts off, as tried to pull the pistol free to shoot her. She shoved her hands in her pockets, to hide their shaking. His nuts would live to see another day; the odds were stacked against her if she made a run for it. Besides, Solomon should be riding to the rescue any second.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Solomon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, while he listened to Daisy’s conversation. He curled his lips in amusement, as she gushed about how Nobby’s reputation had made the more up-market clubs, and with a bit more of a marketing push, he could be the Mr. Big of Southampton. Nobby’s ego always swamped common sense. Daisy’s bullshit was swallowed hook line and sinker.

  Solomon leaned back, and let out a sigh. He shouldn't have sent her in. It was fortunate Daisy lived a sheltered life, and had no idea who or what Nobby was.

  “So, will you help me out?” she asked.

  “Not here. How about I take you to dinner at Amalfi's? We can talk and come to some mutual agreement?”

  Solomon snapped to attention and shouted, “Say no,” hoping to God Daisy picked it up in her earpiece. Meeting Nobby in a pub was one thing. Getting embroiled in the sordid life of someone who’d be rotting at Her Majesty’s pleasure, if it were up to Solomon, was something else.

  The passenger door to the SUV swung open. Solomon turned around shoving the radio between his thighs, as Dan Maloney climbed inside and slammed the door. “Why's Daisy in the pub?”

  Solomon frowned. Was Dan following him, or did he have someone inside? “She's not.”

  Dan reached over, and snatched the radio from between Solomon’s legs. “Daisy, we know you asked Nobby for drugs. If you don't want me to arrest you, this is what you're going to do.”

  Solomon grabbed the radio. “Princess! Get the hell out of there.”

  Dan reached for the radio, but Solomon placed a hand on his chin and shoved him back against the door. Solomon leaned as far away as he could. Dan smashed his fist into Solomon’s ribs, and Solomon grunted and momentarily lost his grip on the man’s chin. Solomon twisted, and Dan’s fist glanced off his thigh, missing his bollocks by inches. Solomon lunged for Dan, as the policeman grasped the radio and pried it from his fingers.

  Dan grabbed him in a headlock and then spoke to Daisy. “You take one step outside the pub, and you'll spend the night in a cell. Whatever Nobby wants, say yes.”

  “You wouldn't arrest her.”

  Dan glared at him. “Want a bet?”

  “It's none of her doing. I sent her in.”

 
“And I told you to tell me everything you knew.”

  “Apparently I didn’t need to.”

  “Do you really think we’d let you speak to Lisa without listening in?”

  “So you know Nobby’s involved. Good for you. Now let Daisy go.”

  “No. She's just the woman we need, to get to Nobby.”

  “Nobby's too dangerous.”

  Daisy's voice floated from the receiver. “Why would I want to go to Amalfi’s with you?”

  Nobby replied. “You can help with my marketing. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.”

  Solomon pulled his head free, and glared at Dan. “Shite. This is your fault, Maloney.”

  “Says the man who sent her in. At least she'll have proper backup this time.”

  Dan tossed Solomon the radio, and climbed out of the car. He leaned back inside. “When Daisy gets out, bring her to the station.”

  “I’ll not let her play bait in a police operation.”

  Dan let out a heavy sigh. “Nothing bad is going to happen to Daisy. I've known her and Paul ever since our kids became friends at school. I'd never tell her to do something that would put her in real danger.”

  “You've no idea, have you?”

  “About?”

  Solomon shook his head. “Go away, before you blow her cover.”

  “The station.”

  Solomon growled with disgust, as Dan slammed the door and walked away with his hands in his pockets.

  *

  Daisy smiled at Nobby. “I'll see you at eight, then.”

  “I can pick you up.”

  “No need. I know where Amalfi's is.”

  “What's your name?”

  Daisy's brain went into lockdown, as she struggled for a pseudonym. “Um… Um…”

  Nobby frowned.

  “Scarlet.”

  He smiled. “Nice. Goes with the hair.”

  “My mam thought so too.”

  “So, Scarlet, I'll see you at eight.”

  Daisy stepped back from the bar. “Bye.”

  With measured steps, she crossed the room, glancing at each occupant and wondering which of them was a cop. Dan had to have eyes and ears in the pub, to know she was meeting Nobby.

  Daisy couldn't hold back an excited squeal at the thought of being a player in whatever sting Dan Maloney was planning. She could find out firsthand what it was like to be a real-life detective, which would be very educational. Now she'd become a pet detective, any tips on surveillance and witness interrogation would help no end, and when the bust went down, the publicity about her involvement could be great for business.

  “Keep moving and don't look at me, you're being followed,” Solomon growled in her ear, as she strolled around the corner.

  Daisy started to turn her head.

  “And don't look back.”

  She struggled to keep her steps measured, as she walked past Solomon's SUV and kept going. Was that scuffling behind her? Her heart raced, and her knees felt weak, as she fought the urge to run.

  “Take the first right and then left, and you'll be on Fisherman's Walk. The Yellow Cab base is on the corner. Catch a taxi, and I'll meet you back at the office.”

  “Are you leaving me?”

  “Never. I've got your six.”

  “My six?”

  “Your arse. Your bum. Your rear end. Your posterior.”

  “How have you got my six exactly?”

  “I'm following the man that's following you, and the cops are following me. It's a regular procession. Don't look back; you'll never see me, but he'll see you. And for the record, you've got the best six on the block.”

  “That's not much of a compliment. Everyone else around here is a hobo or a hooker.”

  “Hookers can have cute butts.”

  Daisy added some hip action to her walk. “So you're saying mine's cute.”

  “I'm saying keep walking and stop talking, or your butt will be in a lot of trouble.”

  “Where are you?” Daisy swiveled her gaze and glanced in the shop front windows, to see if she could catch his reflection.

  “You'll never know.”

  “Are you in the wind?”

  “I'm a regular Ninja.”

  “An Irish Ninja. That has to be a first.”

  Solomon chuckled, and she took a deep breath. If he said he had her back, then he did.

  She arrived on Fisherman’s Walk, and risked a glance over her shoulder. A bearded man with a menacing scowl turned the corner behind her. The bell above the door jingled, as she stepped inside the cab office and slammed the door. She pressed her nose to the smeared and dusty window. The man loitered for a moment, talking on his phone, before stomping back the way they had just come.

  “Can I help you, lady?”

  Daisy squealed, and clutched her chest. Bloody hell. She should have realized someone was sitting behind the desk.

  She took a deep breath, and turned with a smile on her face. “Taxi, please.”

  The man nodded toward the window. “You walked right past one.”

  Daisy glanced back out the window. A taxi waited at the curb.

  “So I did. Thanks.”

  She left the office, wrenched the back door to the cab open, and climbed inside. The driver lifted his head from the paper he was reading, and she gave him the address for the office before settling back to enjoy the ride. Maybe her heart would stop trying to pound its way out of her chest by the time they got there.

  The route they took wound back the way she'd just walked, but despite peering at every man they passed by, she couldn’t see Solomon. Nobby's henchman on his way back to the pub was easier to spot, with his scowl, beard, and leather jacket, and Daisy would recognize Detective Hastings any day of the week. He looked too young to be a policeman, which was probably why he was sent to tail her.

  She got the cab to pull up around the corner from Solomon’s office, paid the driver, and climbed out. The only cars parked on the street appeared empty, and the few pedestrians walking by seemed intent on what they were doing. She took a deep breath, and let it out along with the tension in her shoulders. As far as she could tell, they hadn’t been followed, but if they had, it was better her tail didn't find out she worked with a private investigator.

  Daisy shoved the door to the florist open, and stepped inside.

  Belinda glanced up from the bouquet she was making. “Daisy. All alone?”

  “Were you expecting someone else?”

  Belinda shifted her focus to the counter, and fiddled with a length of pale yellow ribbon. “I think I rather made a fool of myself the other day.”

  “If anyone's the fool, it's Solomon. Have you seen the Irish git, since I interrupted you the other night?”

  “He’s probably avoiding me.”

  “Best thing you can do is ignore him. He'll see sense eventually.”

  “And if he doesn't?”

  “Then you're well rid of him. The man's hard work, and you don't need the hassle. There's a better man out there for you.”

  “I don't want better.”

  Daisy smiled. “Are you looking for a bit of rough, Belinda?”

  Belinda twirled the ribbon around her finger, and let out a soft sigh. “Rather. Is that bad?”

  Daisy leaned on the counter. This was all her fault. She’d pushed Solomon and Belinda together, and now Belinda was suffering. It would be better if Belinda moved on, but the only way that would happen would be for her to get the man between the sheets, and out of her system. Daisy might not be in the same social circles as Belinda, but she’d miss having a friend close by, to hide out with when Solomon drove her nuts. She couldn’t let him chase Belinda away. “Please don’t get attached to him. Solomon doesn't do long-term relationships. But if you really want to take a walk on the wild side, you're going to have to lift your game. He seems to have developed an infatuation for someone else.”

  Belinda tugged the ribbon so hard, the bouquet slipped off the edge of the counter and landed
in a heap of stems and petals. She looked at the mess and then at Daisy, her bottom lip trembling. “Already?”

  “I told you, he's bad for you.”

  Belinda kicked the ruined bouquet aside, flicked the top button of her shirt open, and flashed a winning smile. A hand gripped Daisy’s shoulder, and Daisy screamed and spun around to come face to face with Solomon. “How did you get in here without making the bell jingle?”

  “I'm a Ninja, remember?”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “You're wearing a wire.”

  “Did you listen in on the whole conversation?”

  Belinda gasped, and Daisy glanced over her shoulder to see the florist busy plucking petals off a display of roses that decorated the counter. Given enough time, all that would be left to sell in the store would be naked stems.

  Daisy turned her attention back to Solomon. He raised an eyebrow.

  She folded her arms and glared at him. “Well then you know that you owe Belinda an apology for ignoring her after what happened, or rather didn't happen, the other night.” She glanced at Belinda. Her face was a deep red that almost matched the rose petals that now festooned the counter.

  Daisy looked from Belinda to Solomon and frowned. “Nothing did happen, did it?”

  Solomon glared at Daisy. “I told you to meet me at the office.”

  “I was being cautious. Someone might have followed me.”

  “And by coming in here, you put Belinda in danger.”

  Belinda leaned on the counter, flashing an impressive cleavage, and smiled seductively at Solomon. “I don't mind. I like danger.”

  Daisy smothered a sigh. The woman had it bad for the Irish git. He needed to let her down gently, or bang the infatuation right out of her. Either way, he shouldn't leave the poor girl hanging. “I'm going to get a coffee, and then I'll meet you at the office.”

  Solomon took a step toward the door. “I'm coming with you.”