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

by JL Simpson

  Sherman had sworn he was off girls, but apparently he was hiding his growing fan club instead. That was assuming it was a different girl. Either way, Paul would need to have another chat with him. Why did kids have to grow up? Patching grazed knees was so much easier than having “that” talk with your kid. She didn't want Sherman to ever have sex. Bedroom gymnastics might be fun, but women were fickle and he could get his heart broken. He was her baby and should stay that way forever so she could protect him. Solomon would disagree. He was probably giving him performance tips. Solomon's face was blank but underneath he was probably rejoicing at knowing something she didn't about her own child. “You're loving it, aren't you? I bet you're encouraging him to sow his wild oats.” Daisy folded her arms and huffed with annoyance. “Some godfather you are.”

  “I'm doing no such thing. Do you really think that little of me?”

  “You seemed very proud when Paul told us he'd caught that girl in Sherman's room with her top off.”

  “I might have made some comment about it, but I'd not be encouraging him to do anything without your blessing. Am I not a father myself? A father who knows first-hand the importance of being involved in every aspect of a child's life.”

  He had a point. Since he'd taken over as primary caregiver for Molly, Daisy had seen a whole new side to him. Despite his name being on Molly's birth certificate, Solomon was aware she wasn't his biological child, and yet he claimed her as his own to ensure she got the love she needed. Love he delivered in spades. He couldn't do enough for his Little Angel. Maybe Daisy was being a little over-sensitive where Sherman was concerned. She couldn't stop him growing up, and with his dad's baby blues and rugged good looks, he was bound to be a chick magnet.

  “Sorry,” Daisy mumbled.

  Solomon grinned. “An apology. I'm honored.”

  “You won't live long enough to enjoy it if you don't stop with the Cheshire Cat impression.”

  Solomon took his right hand off the steering wheel and offered it to her. “How about we call a truce?”

  “Why?”

  “Do I need a reason?” When Daisy made no move to accept a handshake, he put his hand back on the wheel and maneuvered around a line of parked vehicles.

  They turned the last corner and the car's headlights swept across the security grill that secured the car park for the night. With her car inside. For fuck's sake, could the day get any worse? Not only was she stuck with the git for the foreseeable future, but she was in danger of owing Paul five pounds for using the F word out loud. She'd been doing so well lately that Paul's plan to use the funds from the swear box for a boys’ weekend away had been on hold. The more time she spent with Solomon the greater her need to let lose a string of vile language. Maybe Paul's trip to Amsterdam would turn out to be more than a dream, and while Paul lived it large on the continent, she'd be stuck at home with an apparently horny teenage boy and a dog that she was sure was silently plotting to maul her to death in her sleep. She leaned forward and whacked her head against the dashboard.

  Solomon squeezed her shoulder. “Will you stop that?”

  She thumped her forehead again. “Why do you care what I do? Thanks to you I can't collect my car.”

  “I'll drive you home. You've no need to worry, I'm not busy tomorrow so I can pick you up first thing.”

  Daisy groaned, just what she needed, another trip out with Solomon. He'd ended their working relationship and, she hated to admit it, even to herself, had broken her little heir-hunting heart. She thought they were working well together. With his office as a base, and the contacts he had, she was ready to conquer the world. Now she was finally used to being alone, he came stomping back into her life, but for how long? She suspected it would only be until he got her to do whatever it was he wanted where Belinda was concerned.

  The last thing she needed was to start relying on the man for any kind of support. When he booted her out of the partnership, she had been determined to stand on her own two feet and prove that she could go it alone. Being back around Solomon was making her doubt herself. He'd gotten Linda to talk, and all she'd done was piss the woman off. Maybe she did still need him. Maybe she wasn't ready to do this her own way. She thumped her head against the dashboard again. There was no way she was going to admit defeat and work with the git anytime soon.

  “Daisy, will you cut that out. You'll be damaging the car.”

  Head still resting against the cool leather, she lifted her right hand and flipped him the bird. She'd have to put an IOU in the box when she got home until she had time to go to the bank and withdraw some cash.

  *

  Solomon let the car idle in the driveway to the car park. He had no reason to feel guilty about Daisy's car being locked up. She'd been the one who delayed their lunch by stopping at a house on the way, and she'd insisted they go to the museum instead of coming straight back. Although, if he'd never dragged her out to lunch, she'd have spent the day working and would have been home hours ago. By now, she'd be snuggled up to Doughnut on the sofa watching whatever inane drivel they had on the telly, or getting hot and heavy if Sherman was out of the way. Instead she was banging her head against his dashboard.

  With a groan she sat up straight and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Your car's hard.”

  “Is it now? You know what they say?”

  Daisy swiveled her head, scrunched up her face and peered at him. “Thick in the car, thick in the head?”

  Solomon laughed. “What I was going to say was, you get what you pay for.”

  “And this cost a fortune so it's hardly likely to dent easily.”

  “Something like that.”

  Daisy sighed. “That must be my problem. I'm too cheap.” She frowned. “Or maybe I'm too expensive.” She slouched down in the seat, closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against her eyelids.

  “Daisy?”

  “Uh, huh.”

  “Are you wanting to discuss your last comment?”

  “Not much to discuss about uh, huh. It means yes.”

  “You're being deliberately evasive. Why are you too cheap or too expensive?”

  “If I charge too little then people assume I have no idea what I'm doing and won't hire me. If I charge more, then they think I do know what I'm doing and when I can't deliver they're disappointed and won't use me again. Either way, I'm screwed. Maybe I need to go back to an office job.”

  “Based on our meeting with the solicitor you used to work for, I'm not sure office work was your thing.”

  Daisy sat sideways on her seat and glared at him. “I bet you used to kick puppies when you were a child.”

  “Is it wrong of me to point out the bleedin' obvious? Did you not mention that you dropped coffee in a client's lap?”

  “The client was a criminal, as was Clive.”

  “Indeed, but you didn't know that at the time.”

  She reached over and placed a hand on Solomon's knee. “Solomon, do you still love me?”

  Solomon smiled. On their last case he'd admitted that he loved her. Not in a sexual way. Not that she didn't have it all going on. In another life he would have definitely been tempted, but she was Doughnut's wife. When she fell into his best friend’s life, she'd fallen into Solomon's as well. They'd had their share of ups, and lots of downs, but he'd fight for her as if she were his own. The scheming green-eyed monster had wheedled her way into his heart, no matter how much he tried to deny it. She was, and always would be, family to him. And he could read her like a book. She was deliberately changing the subject.

  In a moment of brain-numbed weakness she'd admitted her insecurity and now she was trying to stifle any further discussion. Daisy didn't do weakness. She was feisty, daring and just a little bit scary when she was determined to do something. The one thing she'd never been was a quitter. Not about her desire to be an heir hunter or anything else she set her mind to, which was no doubt where this conversation was now headed. “I do indeed, but not enough to let you drive the car
.”

  “How did you know I was going to ask you that?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  She let out a loud sigh.

  Solomon patted her on the kneed. “You need to be having more faith in yourself.”

  “About being able to talk you into letting me drive the car?”

  “About your ability to be an heir hunter. You've a lot to learn, but did you not help me solve our last two cases?”

  She frowned. “Do you really think I can be an heir hunter or are you saying that to keep in my good books? I'll talk to Belinda for you either way, so you've no need to lie to me.”

  She really was having a major wobble. Six months ago, he would have told her she’d never make it in the job, but they'd been through a lot together and she'd constantly surprised him. “No lie. I think you're a little erratic, use some strange tactics that I don't always appreciate, and are as likely to get killed as to find the bad guys, but you get there in the end, one way or another.”

  Daisy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks. Now, how about you drive me home. Paul's probably been cooking up a storm, that's assuming he isn't currently combing the countryside looking for my body.”

  “Did you not call and tell him you'd be late?”

  “Phone's flat.”

  Solomon tugged his phone from his jacket pocket and passed it to Daisy. “Call him. Tell him we're on our way, and I'm bringing the wine.”

  * * * * *

  Daisy pushed her food around her plate, her appetite gone. Solomon and Paul were reminiscing about their life in the army and giggling over things that made no sense to her. Half a sentence from one, and the other would nod and they'd start laughing. She guessed you had to be there to appreciate it. Sherman had gobbled up his dinner and sat at the table texting on his phone. Daisy wondered if he was chatting to the girlfriend. She'd have to talk to Paul later.

  Paul looked up and smiled. The spark in his eyes sent shivers down her spine and made warmth bloom in her chest. God, she loved him. She’d planned to do some online research once Solomon left but maybe she could put work on hold. Not that she could afford to waste time. Liam was expecting her to come up with a result by the weekend, so she only had three more days to find something. If her dead man wasn't local then she had no idea where to start looking for his birth certificate, which was the document she needed to trace his sister, assuming she was his sister and not a step-sister, in which case the lack of a common parent could leave her up shit creek without a paddle.

  Paul's voice broke into her thoughts. “Daisy?”

  She'd turned into a space cadet. Her backside ached from the fall into the veggie patch the day before, and drinking twice in one day was doing a number on her brain. Unless she'd given herself a concussion banging her head on the dashboard of the Aston Martin.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Solomon was just telling me he has a few days between jobs and could help you out.”

  She shifted her gaze to Solomon and then back to Paul. “Didn't you say working with Solomon was bad for my health?”

  Solomon punched Paul in the shoulder. “You said no such thing, did you?”

  Paul rubbed the spot Solomon had hit. “It does seem that every time you two work on a case, something terrible happens. Daisy's had some crap jobs before, but she never got kidnapped or shot at until you came along.”

  “And I'd never been shot in the arse or blown up until she came along. We're just an incredible team.”

  Daisy shook her head. “No, no, no. Not going to happen.” She'd finally got used to the idea of working on her own and Solomon was reeling her back in. She wasn't going to play his game. One day he wanted her, the next he didn't. If she worked with him again she might never find the courage to continue on her own once the case was over. Besides, she needed all of the money for herself.

  “Don't be so hasty, Princess.” Solomon leaned his chair back to balance on two legs. “Surely it's worth considering. I've contacts.”

  Sherman looked up from his phone. “Solomon's way cool, Mam.”

  “Of course you'd think that. Not so cool that he kept your secret though. He told me what you were up to after school on Friday.”

  “What?” Sherman glanced from Daisy to Solomon. “You didn't.”

  “Sorry, mate. I had no choice.” Solomon shrugged. “It's an adult thing.”

  Paul snorted. “And you're such a grown up, Solomon. Anyway, what did Sherman do?”

  Daisy nudged her son. “Do you want to tell him, or shall I?”

  “It was no big deal. I might have met a friend in the precinct.”

  “Tell him the rest.”

  Sherman's face flushed red. “It's not illegal.” His phone beeped and he turned his attention back to the screen.

  Paul reached over and grabbed the phone. “What's not illegal?”

  Solomon blew out a breath. “Your lad has a girlfriend. I caught them kissing.”

  “And you promised not to tell.”

  “And you promised you'd talk to your parents, so I guess that makes us both liars.”

  Paul glanced at the screen of Sherman's phone. “Is this her? Shelley? Pretty. But you'd best keep your pants on. No sexting your secret girlfriend.”

  “Dad!”

  Daisy shook her head. “Dear God, am I the only adult in the room? I've got work to do.”

  She pushed to her feet. “Night, Solomon. I'm sure you know the way out. Sherman, stop playing with your phone and do your homework, now. Your dad will be up for a serious chat with you later.”

  Paul frowned. “I will?”

  Daisy glared at him.

  “I will. Yep, I definitely will.”

  Sherman got to his feet and shuffled out the door and Daisy followed him. She only stopped long enough to collect her laptop from the living room before heading up the stairs to work in the bedroom. No doubt Solomon would hang out with Paul all evening and she needed some peace and quiet. She was determined to find out something about her dead guy before she went to bed. He had to be mentioned somewhere on the Internet. No one was invisible anymore, unless they were in witness protection, and Tomas Jenks wasn't, as far as she knew.

  Chapter Seven

  Solomon yawned and pulled on his jacket as he wished he’d gotten home earlier. He'd had a long night. Doughnut had kept him entertained until well after ten, which would have been fine if he hadn't come home and started working on finding out what he could about Daisy's Tomas Jenks. Not that she would ever know what he was up to. She seemed very serious when she told him to leave her case alone. However, Paul had told him she'd agreed to give the job up if she hadn't achieved something by the following week.

  He should have guessed she was making no money. They couldn't afford to live on one wage forever. As soon as he had time, he'd chase up his lawyer to see how negotiations were going with the life insurance company. The fact that Daisy had uncovered a major criminal network and a whole heap of dead bodies insured by their client didn't change the fact that they had been hired to do a job.

  They were due to be paid for their services, regardless of whether the insurance company had enough evidence to prove it was a scam or not. Daisy was owed half the cash, and the insurance company couldn't hold out forever.

  What had started out as a means to reach out to Belinda had morphed into him feeling genuinely sad that Daisy was contemplating giving up. He'd put his life, and his arse, on the line to get Daisy started as an heir hunter. If she quit, then they'd both failed.

  Paul had been unable to tell him anything about the case. All that Solomon knew was that Tomas Jenks was dead and Liam wanted an heir hunter, so she must be looking for his next of kin. Whether she knew who that was or not, was a mystery. He'd made the assumption that if she did know, she wouldn't be chasing up where Tomas had been. But why the museum? He'd give Liam Sparks a call later to see if he would be a bit more forthcoming about the case. For now, he had what little information he had found on the Internet, w
hich was bugger all. Very few people in the civilized world had as small an online footprint as the late Tomas Jenks.

  A glance at his watch got him moving faster. Daisy would be waiting for him to drive her to Salisbury to collect her car. If he was late, she might take off on her own. She'd get nowhere without accepting his help, and if that failed, he had a back-up plan. He shoved his phone in his pocket, took one last gulp of his scalding hot coffee before dumping the rest in the sink and then headed out the front door. The Aston Martin was safely tucked up in his garage. Today was about work, not seduction.

  Once he was safely behind the wheel of his SUV, he switched on the engine and made his way down the front drive and then out into the middle of the New Forest. He should be at Daisy's before she'd even had breakfast if the traffic gods were kind to him.

  * * * * *

  Daisy munched on a piece of toast. Sheets of A4 paper were scattered over the kitchen table and the cursor flashed at the top of a blank Word document on her laptop. The whistle of the kettle filled the silence. She shoved her chair back and got to her feet. Being careful to avoid her still resident dog guest, Johnny, who sat in the middle of the kitchen watching her every move, she eased her way around to the cooker. A quick twist of the gas knob had the whistle slow until it gradually petered out. Hot water slopped onto the bench-top as she filled the waiting mugs. Solomon was due to arrive in half-an-hour and she needed a game plan.

  The museum was a bust. Maybe her dead man visited that particular museum over and over because he had a love of all things Roman, in which case he might have visited other places with links to Roman history. Even if that were true, she was looking for a needle in a haystack. The South of England was littered with the remains of Roman occupation. Besides, even if he was a mad history buff, how did knowing that further her cause? She needed to know about his family history, not write a book on the life and times of Tomas Jenks.

  The kitchen door swung open and Paul strode into the room. His security uniform accentuated his athletic body, his hair was still damp from the shower they'd shared. A shower that had been rudely interrupted by Sherman banging on the door asking where his new football boots were. Maybe he actually planned to go to practice tonight.