by JL Simpson
He turned to look at her. “What?”
“I can walk, but not in bare feet.”
“Why not?”
“People have died in here and it's probably weeks since the place was last cleaned. I might catch something.”
Solomon let out a loud sigh as he flopped down on a chair and pulled off a shoe. Daisy frowned as he tugged off his sock.
“What are you doing?”
He threw the sock at her. “My shoes won't fit so my socks are the best I can do.”
She held the sock in her fingertips. “Were these clean on today?”
“No. I change them once a week like I do my underpants. First day of the week is tomorrow.”
“Liar.”
Solomon raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Daisy gingerly pulled the sock onto her bare foot. She meant there were days when she knew for a fact he didn't wear underpants, but she had no plans to tell him that. She grabbed the other sock he offered her. “Don't you have an upstairs to search?”
Solomon smiled as he slipped his feet back in his shoes and disappeared down the hallway. She flipped on the flashlight and took a deep breath. Maybe this time she'd find something more useful.
She started by the back door and worked her way around the kitchen. Every cupboard and drawer was searched. Other than a few dead cockroaches and a dead spider, she'd found nothing out of the ordinary. She hopped through to the living room and started again. Her search was thorough, including lifting the cushions off the sofa and chairs. She even shoved her hands down the backs. She scored six pound twenty seven pence in change but nothing else. A hunt through the coffee table, the sideboard and the TV cabinet was a complete waste of time. She hobbled into the hallway to see if there was any sign of Solomon. The house was eerily quiet. If she yelled someone might hear her, although if anyone had been listening earlier when they were out the back, the cops would have arrived by now. She shuffled up the stairs on her bottom one step at a time. Using the banister for support, she pulled herself to her feet. A light flickered in the back bedroom and then went out. There was no sound. Where the hell was Solomon?
Daisy could hardly creep around if she was hopping on one foot so she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled through the house, wishing she'd kept the rubber gloves on. When she got to the back bedroom, she hesitated before slowly pushing the door a little wider and then peering around the corner. The room was empty.
*
Solomon flashed the light around the roof space. His search of the back bedroom had been all but fruitless. The only thing he'd discovered was that there had been some furniture in the room at some time. From the layout of the indents in the carpet, it had been a table or desk. Further investigations revealed a socket for an internet connection hidden behind the curtains. So, Tomas Jenks must have been using it as a study at some point. Daisy already told him that Liam hadn't mentioned anything about a computer.
Something was off, including the manhole for the roof space being inside the built-in wardrobe. Solomon was no builder, but as far as he knew most houses had the entry to the attic in a far more convenient location. If Solomon wasn't a big fan of chin-ups, he would never have had the strength to pull himself up through the hole, and he'd bet his life there wasn't a stepladder anywhere in the world small enough to fit inside the cupboard.
A noise from the bedroom had him scooting back to the manhole.
“Pssst, Solomon?”
He stuck his head through the hole and Daisy screamed. She flashed her torch in his eyes, blinding him. “What the feck? Switch that bleedin' thing off and stop yelling. Do you want us to get arrested?”
She moved the light to shine on the floor by her feet. Her free hand was pressed to her chest. “You scared the crap out of me. What the fuck are you doing up there?”
“Looking for Narnia.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Daisy frowned. “Why are you doing nothing in the attic?”
“I'm searching, Princess.”
“Did you find anything?”
“No.”
“So are you coming down now?”
“Why? Did you find something?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure you checked everywhere?”
“Everywhere I could think of.”
“Did you look under the stairs?”
“What would he be hiding under the stairs?”
“The same thing as he'd be hiding in the attic.”
She stepped directly under the manhole and stared up at him. “What's that?”
He shook his head. “I've no idea, Princess. I've not had a chance to look yet.”
“Do you need a hand?”
“Do you want to help?”
Daisy shrugged. “Only if you want me to.”
Solomon lay down in the dusty attic and dangled his right arm through the hole. “Grab a hold.”
“You're going to pull me up?”
“Unless you've a ladder hidden in your pants.”
“I'm too heavy.”
Solomon smiled. “I can bench press a truck.”
“Are you saying I weigh as much as a truck?”
“Okay, I can only bench press a small car. Do you want to help me or not?”
Daisy grasped his hand. He tugged her upwards, and once she was within reach of his left hand, he gripped the waistband of her pants and dragged her all the way into the attic. She lay flopped on her stomach like a beached whale, panting from the effort. Solomon patted her arse. “Okay, darlin'?”
She rolled onto her back and slapped his hand away. He grinned as he realized all the huffing and puffing had caused her boob tube to slip down around her waist. She squealed and slapped her hands over her bare chest. “Don't you have some searching to do?”
He picked up his flashlight and balanced on the ceiling joists as he made his way to a stack of cardboard boxes at the far end of the attic. “I've changed my mind.”
“About?”
Solomon grinned. “Your outfit, darlin'. It's perfect.”
“Screw you, Solomon.”
He laughed. “Once you're decent, why don't you look up the other end of the roof, and for God's sake, don't fall through the ceiling.”
Solomon arrived at the stack of boxes. It only took a few moments for him to realize they were all empty. Why bother keeping empty boxes? He used his flashlight to examine the outside of each box. The labels were still in place. All of them were addressed to Tomas Jenks. Some had the names and logos of the places that had sent them. Solomon tugged his phone from his pocket and photographed all of the labels.
“Solomon?”
He turned to see Daisy kneeling at the other end of the roof space.
“What?”
“I think I've found something odd.”
Solomon shoved his phone in his pocket and tiptoed along the ceiling joists as quickly as he could. He dropped to a crouch next to where Daisy was kneeling. “What did you find, Princess?”
She pointed her flashlight at a brown stain between the ceiling joists. She shifted the light and his focus followed. The stain disappeared under the wall that separated Jenks' roof-space from his neighbor's. Solomon sat back against the wall. Something was off.
Daisy nudged him. “Do you think its blood?”
“I'd bet my life on it.”
“Human blood?”
“Why? Are you thinking Mr. Jenks might have butchered a cow up here?”
Daisy glared at him. “So you do think it's human.”
“What I think, darlin' is that this wall isn't the divider between here and next door.”
“What is it then?”
“It's a false wall.”
“And what's behind it?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“Have you got the gloves?”
“Why do you want the gloves?”
“So that I don't hurt my hands pulling the wall down.”
“
We're not pulling the wall down.”
“If we’re not pulling it down, how are we going to find out what’s behind it?”
“We're going to leave it to the police.”
“Won't they be suspicious if we call and tell them we think there might be some blood in the roof of Mr. Jenks' house?”
“Not if we don't tell them.”
“So how are they going to find out?”
Solomon smiled. “Don't fret, I've got it all in hand.”
Daisy tapped at the wall. “Are you sure we can't pull the wall down?”
“Best not to mess with a potential crime scene.”
“What now then?”
“Now we get out of here.”
Solomon scooted toward the manhole and Daisy followed behind him. After some persuasion, he convinced Daisy he wouldn't drop her if she would just trust him. Once she was safely on the ground, he let himself down into the wardrobe and did his best to tug the manhole cover back into place.
Daisy hopped to the top of the stairs before sitting and going down on her arse one step at a time. When they reached the front hall, Solomon grabbed her around the waist. “Hold on, Princess.”
They were making good progress. Solomon planned to drop Daisy safely home and then make some calls to ensure the police got a tip off without them being able to link it back to either of them. Daisy came to sudden stop. “What was that?”
“What?”
A metallic grating noise was followed by the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the front door lock. They would never make it out the back before the person coming in the front saw them. Solomon tugged the door to the under-stair cupboard open and shoved Daisy in before squeezing into the confined space and pulling the door closed behind them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daisy wiggled to try and get comfortable. Solomon was practically sitting in her lap. Voices carried through the cupboard door. They seemed to be getting closer. She moved a bit farther into the confined space and yelped when a vacuum cleaner pipe jabbed her in the arse.
Solomon slapped his hand over her mouth before whispering, “Shh.”
Like she needed to be told. It was fine for him. He wasn't being assaulted by household appliances. She shifted again. Solomon grabbed her arms and, before she could even think about putting up a struggle, he dragged her over his lap to sit in between his legs. She sat up straight until he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to lean against his chest. All that working out had created the best pec pillows. She smiled in the dark. He'd be grumpy as hell if she told him he was all soft and squishy. The man lived to be a hard arse but she'd seen his soft side with his daughter Molly, and now she could feel his soft side as well.
Once they were settled, she could make out the voices a little better. Male and female, if she had to guess. The conversation got closer and Daisy shrank back against Solomon. Shit, she'd left her shoes in the kitchen. Whoever was in the house would know they didn't belong to Tomas Jenks. Daisy grabbed Solomon's face and pulled him closer. She lifted her bottom off the floor and whispered, “What happens when they find my shoes?”
His breath stirred one of the curls that had escaped from her beanie. “No idea, but I doubt they're here to steal your shoes.”
She let his face go and stared into the darkness concentrating on the voices. One of the words she caught was stealing quickly followed by dead. Solomon had shifted to press his ear to the cupboard door. The space was too small for comfort and Daisy wished she hadn't had that girly drink now. She really needed a wee.
The conversation faded as footsteps sounded on the stairs above their heads. Daisy nudged Solomon. “Can we go now?”
“No.”
“I really need to go.”
“Where's the fire?”
“I need the bathroom.”
Solomon sighed. “Can you not hold on?”
“Stress does bad things to my bladder.”
“So does alcohol.”
“We could make a run for it.”
“How will that work with your foot?”
“You're a big boy, you could carry me.'
Solomon's chuckle was positively filthy.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Solomon placed his finger on Daisy's lips. She pushed away the thought about what kind of germs he had picked up while he was searching the house. When the front door opened and slammed shut, she burst out of the hall cupboard and crawled to the stairs. Solomon's voice was a low hiss, “Daisy. Wait up. One of them might still be here.”
She didn't care. No matter who was in the house, she was going to the bathroom. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to do it with wet pants. Hell-bent on her destination, she crawled up the stairs as if it were an Olympic sport and she was going for gold. She shoved the bathroom door open, used the bath to haul herself to her feet and then turned and slammed the door shut just as Solomon reached the top of the stairs.
If someone was still in the house, he could deal with them. Hopefully by the time she was finished, he'd have them tied up and waiting for the cops to find.
*
Solomon stared at the closed bathroom door. He hadn't heard much of the conversation going on between the other occupants of the house, but he had caught enough to know they had plans to come back. It was a wonder anything was left. The area was rough, and the local inhabitants not exactly rolling in money, but stealing stuff from a dead man's house was a special kind of low.
Solomon stepped into the front bedroom. Nothing had changed from when he had searched it earlier. The bed was made with military precision. Everything still in place. Tomas Jenks must have been a neat freak. Other than the clothes all neatly folded or hanging and the shoes lined up in the wardrobe, you would never even know he had lived here.
Solomon tugged the edge of the curtain back and glanced out the front window. A white van pulled up to the curb. Three people climbed out. All of them were dressed in dark clothes. The sound of the toilet flushing dragged his attention back to the house. Daisy hobbled into the bedroom and he wiggled his finger for her to join him. She hesitated and frowned.
“Did you make the bed?”
He shook his head. “We've bigger problems to deal with than making sure the house is tidy.”
“Last time I was here, the bed was unmade and there were clothes on the chair. Who would make a dead man’s bed?”
Solomon pointed at the window. “I’ve no idea but like I said it’s not something we need to deal with now. However, this is.” Daisy crossed the room to join him. She glanced out the window and her expression turned to panic.
After placing a finger to his lips, he stepped closer. When he grabbed her around the thighs, she made no protest. He flipped her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift and sprinted down the stairs. Daisy gripped the back of his jeans. At the bottom of the stairs, he turned and sped through the hall, the kitchen, and out the back door. He spun around and pulled it shut just as the front door of the house opened, spilling the muted light from the street lamp into the hallway.
When he got to his SUV, he hit the unlock button on his keyfob and loaded Daisy into the passenger's seat. She pushed her loose curls back into her beanie and stared at him.
He slammed the passenger door before sprinting around to the driver's side. He climbed in behind the wheel and shoved the key in the ignition. Daisy grabbed his thigh. “Don't.”
“What?”
“If you start the engine, you'll draw attention to us.”
“And if I don't get out of here, we risk being caught.”
“Caught by who?”
“The people in the house.”
“Why are we running like criminals? We have a right to be in the house. We've got a key.”
“They have a key. And we might have a key, but we're the ones who broke in through the window.”
“Do you think they stashed the body in the roof?”
“We don't even know there is a body in the roof.”
> “Is that a no?”
“They're here to steal whatever they can find.”
“They've done it before?”
“Jenks' computer is missing. No doubt they helped themselves to it.”
“Don't you want to wait and see if we can find out who they are? We might get a lead on where they took his stuff. If we can access his computer, we might finally break this case wide open.”
Solomon grinned at her. She was morphing into a character from a really bad TV cop show. Any minute now, she'd be demanding donuts and coffee. “We're out numbered and you've a bad ankle.”
“How do you know we're outnumbered?”
“Three of them got out of a van when you were in the bathroom. We might be in the back alley, but if they find us sitting here they'll probably assume we're spying on them.”
“Not if we have another reason to be out here.”
Solomon raised an eyebrow. There were very few reasons for a couple to be parked in a dark alleyway at night. “What is it that you're suggesting, Princess?”
Daisy shrugged. “Nothing. Forget it. You're probably right. So what's the plan now?”
Headlights appeared at the end of the alleyway. “Now we hope for a bleedin' miracle.”
Daisy scrambled to her knees and into his lap. “Or we make our own.”
He didn't even have time to protest before she straddled him and planted her lips on his. The kiss went from passive to steamy in seconds. She groaned and ground against him. He flipped an eye open as she slid her hands inside his hoody. He broke the kiss. “What is that you're doing exactly?”
“What does it look like? Shit, they're coming.”
She grabbed his hand and placed it on her left breast. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Daisy's lips met his. They might be in danger, and this might be play-acting, but some parts of his body were getting way too much into character. He kneaded her breast and slid his free hand into her hair, tipping her head so that he could deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth and tangled tongues with him as if her life depended on it. A flashlight lit up the interior of Solomon's SUV. He ignored it, pretending to be intent on seducing the woman in his arms. Best not to look.
