by JL Simpson
“Why won't he point the finger at you?”
“Because he knows I'm not a man to be messed with.”
“Why not? What's so special about you?”
Solomon shook his head and Daisy let out a loud sigh.
“Fine. Don't tell me, but I still think you were a spy.”
Solomon growled at her. “Daisy.”
“Okay. Okay. We're not talking about you. But if the man isn't the murderer, who killed Graham Harrison?”
Solomon shrugged. “That I don't know. But whatever Tomas Jenks was involved in got the attention of a man who will do whatever it takes to get the job done. The Government aren't above killing their own to protect their secrets.”
“You're assuming that Graham Harrison was killed because of his involvement with Tomas Jenks?”
“I am.”
“Tomas Jenks died of cancer.”
Solomon glanced at Daisy before turning into the entrance to the driveway of his house and waiting for the steel gates to slide open. “That might be what it says on his death certificate but we'll never know for sure.”
“Liam saw him. He definitely had cancer.”
“I'm not disputing that he was sick, but who's to say the disease killed him?”
“So you think the Government killed Tomas Jenks and someone else killed Graham Harrison. Did the Government kill Marcus Matthews and Stuart McAlister as well? Maybe they killed Cameron McAlister and kidnapped Maura.” Daisy sounded incredulous.
Solomon planted his foot on the accelerator and sped toward his house. “Do you not believe me, Princess?”
“I don't know what to believe. Your story could be some giant ruse to get me to run away with you.”
Solomon chuckled. “And if it was, would you be disappointed?”
“I'd be hugely relieved that we weren't being chased by some crazed ex secret agent and a mystery killer, and equally as disturbed that you would go to such lengths to get me alone in a hotel with you.”
“So you'll be coming to London with me?”
“Do I have a choice?'
“No. Not really.”
“So what's the plan? Do we both pack an overnight bag and then head off after I explain to Paul that we need to go to London to chase down a lead?”
“No.”
“No to what, packing the bag or telling Paul?”
“Both. We'll set off from here. You can buy what you need when we get to where we're going.”
“What about Paul?”
“Tell him you're spending the weekend with me and will be back next week.”
“He’ll never believe I wanted anything to do with you. Why can't I tell him what we're really doing?”
“Because when someone comes asking about you, he can’t tell them what he doesn’t know.”
“They might kill him!”
“They'll do no such thing. As long as you're on the run, he's the best hope they have of finding you. They'll follow him until they come to the conclusion he really doesn't know where you are.”
“Then they'll kill him?”
“Then they'll turn to other lines of enquiry.”
“What lines?”
Solomon pulled the car to a stop by the front door. “You'd better use the bathroom before we go. It could be a while before we're close to civilization again.”
Daisy laughed. “London's civilized.” She stared at Solomon. “We are going to London, aren't we? To a hotel?”
Solomon climbed out of the car. He could say yes, but he preferred she stay in the dark, for now. The less Daisy knew about where they were going, the less chance there was of her telling Paul.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Daisy sat in the car two blocks from Solomon's office in the multi-story car park near the shopping precinct. If she thought Solomon would be gone long enough, she'd duck down the stairs and buy some toiletries in Boots. But he'd been serious about her staying put, and his fierce tone had scared her enough to make her comply for once.
By the time Daisy had used the bathroom at Solomon's house, he'd changed outfits, packed a bag with what he considered necessary items, and was waiting for her by the front door. She had no idea what was in the bag and he'd told her it was best she didn't know. If she'd been packing for a night on the run, her case would have contained some underwear, her hair spritz to stop it going frizzy, her make-up bag, a couple of bottles of wine and a large bar of chocolate. Something had been clunking in the backpack as he swung it over his shoulder, but she'd bet her life it wasn't bottles of that lovely Chardonnay he kept at the office.
Mr. Cloak and Dagger had sped into Southampton via the back route and dumped her and the car far enough away that they would be hidden from anyone who was watching the office. Of course, if he got caught, she'd never know about it. How long should she wait before she gave up on him? How long had it been since he left? They should have synchronized their watches.
The driver's door swung open and Daisy squealed. Solomon glared at her as he tossed another backpack onto the back seat and slid in behind the wheel. He pulled on his seatbelt, slammed the door, and started the engine.
Daisy buckled up as the car lurched toward the exit. “Did you get all you need?”
“I did not. It appears I've been burgled.”
Daisy looked him up and down for blood, his own or someone else's. “Was there someone at the office waiting for you? Did they break in? You didn't do anything stupid did you?”
“Other than trusting you?”
“What?”
“No one was at the office. Is there anything you want to tell me, Princess?”
Daisy wiped her suddenly sweaty hands on the front of her dress pants. “Um.”
“Princess?” He fixed her to the seat with his CIA stare.
She could refuse to answer. His gaze turned glacial. Or not. “Are you talking about me eating the chocolate that was hidden in the kitchen? Because technically, it was mine.”
“Daisy.”
With a humph of defeat, Daisy folded her arms. “Fine. I borrowed some money from the safe, but I'll pay it back.”
“You took all the money from the safe. Why would you do such a thing?”
“How do you know I didn't take some and then a thief took the rest?”
“The only thief I know is the one sitting right next to me.”
Daisy sighed and rolled her eyes. “With the circles you run in, I find that hard to believe, but, fine, I borrowed the money. I needed to pay Fletch for the information and I figured it's not like you would miss it, you're loaded. I'll give it all back as soon as Liam pays me for finding Tomas Jenks' sister.”
Solomon didn't respond. The man really knew how to sulk. She should have asked, but he was busy and besides he would have said no, and no wasn't an option. If Fletch hadn't given her the bank statements, the case would be going nowhere and neither would they.
The journey continued in silence as Solomon weaved down back streets and country lanes. She had a rough idea where they were headed but the motorway would have been the quicker route. Eventually Solomon stopped at a roundabout to let a truck go before continuing on and taking the exit that went past the entrance to the supermarket car park. Winchester was a long way from London and not where she had expected them to be spending the night. He pulled down a side street and parallel parked.
Daisy glanced at him. “What now?”
Solomon grabbed the bags from the back seat. “Now we change cars.”
“You've got another car? How many do you have?”
“Two.”
“This one and the Aston Martin? So whose car are we driving?”
Solomon smiled. “Someone else's.”
Daisy and Solomon climbed out of Solomon's SUV. A cool wind tugged at her hair and soft drizzle soaked into her inadequate clothing. She should have told Solomon to bugger off when he told her to leave her new red coat at his house. It might have been loud but it was warm. Solomon opened one of the backpacks and pulled out a
black hoodie, tossing it to her as he set off down the street in the direction of the car park. Daisy pulled the garment over her head and hurried to keep up. At least she was wearing flattish boots rather than stiletto heels. Her ankle had improved a great deal but she wasn't ready to run a marathon, climb Everest, or skip across Tesco's car park in her fake Jimmy Choo's.
Solomon slowed and reached for her hand. She grabbed a hold and he gave her a quick squeeze before setting a cracking pace toward an older model white Toyota parked close to the exit. Solomon placed his hand on the bonnet before moving to stand by the driver's side door. “Keep a look out?”
Daisy turned her back to Solomon and focused on the car park. “For what?”
“People watching what we're doing.”
“What are we doing?” She glanced over her shoulder as Solomon popped the front door open. “Are you stealing the car?”
“Borrowing it. The owner will get it back.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
The police were already looking for them. Any chance of explaining that they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time would be long gone if they were suspects in a list of crimes that covered the length and breadth of the country.
Solomon handed her some purple surgical gloves that matched his own.
“What are these for?”
“So we don't leave fingerprints. Now get in.”
Daisy watched as Solomon tossed the backpacks into the car and climbed in behind the wheel. The sound of voices carried across the cold night air. Daisy ran around the car and leapt inside as Solomon sparked the engine to life. She barely had the door closed before he eased off the brake and sped toward the exit.
Daisy struggled to get her seatbelt on. “Did you see those people? What if we've stolen their car?”
“We haven't.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because the car belongs to someone who works in the store.”
“What?”
Solomon shook his head. “Do you not pay any attention to what's around you?”
“What?”
“Can you not say something else?”
Daisy frowned. “What?”
“The car was in a staff parking space. The engine was still warm so hadn't been there long. I'd bet my left bollock it belongs to someone working filling the shelves overnight. By the time they finish their shift, we'll have dumped the car and be long gone.”
“So the police won't be looking for us?”
“Not for stealing a car they won't.”
“Right.” Daisy rummaged in her bag. “I need to call Paul.”
Solomon reached into his pocket, pulled out an ancient Nokia and offered it to Daisy. “Here, use this.”
Daisy tugged her phone from her bag and glared at it. “How did you know my battery was flat?”
“I didn't but it's for the best. If you're going to use your phone, you might as well hand yourself in at the nearest police station.”
Daisy took the Nokia from Solomon. “But it's alright to use this?”
“It is, Princess, but be vague. Don't tell him where we're going or what we're doing.”
Daisy blew out a breath. They were really on the run. “Do you think it will ever be safe to go home?'
Solomon reached over and gave her knee a squeeze. “Trust me, darlin'. I've got everything under control.”
Daisy snorted. “That's what Paul said the day I conceived Sherman.”
“And you've never regretted it.”
“No I haven't, but I'm not so sure I won't regret running away with you.”
Solomon patted her knee as they sped ever closer to the motorway.
How had her life gotten so out of control? All she wanted to do was prove to Paul she could make a living as an heir hunter. The call from Liam had seemed like her chance to succeed, not the catalyst for a chain of events that would see her on the run with a man she swore not to get tangled up with again.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The car came to a halt and Daisy woke with a start. “Where are we?”
“Accommodation for the night.”
“But where?”
“Reading.”
“I thought we were going to London?”
“We are but we'll be taking the train in the morning.”
She leaned forward and stared at the sign. Not a high-end hotel but better than a seedy motel, or a ditch. “Are we going in then?”
“You're going in, Princess. Book one double room and don't use our real names.”
“How are we going to pay?”
Solomon tugged his wallet from his pocket, pulled out some notes and handed them to Daisy. She closed her fist around them. Her stomach churned with hunger and fear. Being on the run hadn't seemed that bad when they'd set out but the realization that she wouldn't be spending the night curled up in bed with Paul brought home the reality.
What if they never found out the truth? What if they did get arrested and thrown in jail? What if the murderer found them and they were both killed before she could show Paul how much she loved him? She'd do anything to go back to where it began and change things.
Sherman was just a kid and, as much as she hated to think about it, he'd be having sex one day whether Daisy approved or not. She used to sneak Paul in after her parents were in bed and they'd have sex on the couch in the front room. If her parents had found out, they would have been upset but knowing they preferred for Daisy to be happily married before she gave in to temptation hadn't stopped her.
Solomon had been right, though. Your first time should be with someone special. Not that she'd tell Solomon he was right about anything. Especially when he appeared to be about to dump her at a bed and breakfast and disappear into the night. Maybe he had plans to solve her case while she was sleeping. Which would be great, except it was her case and she wanted to be the one doing the solving. She'd literally risked her life to find Tomas Jenks' sister. She wasn't going to be left out now.
“Princess, you need to go in and book a room.”
Daisy looked at the money crumpled in her hand. “Why don't we go in together?”
“I've a few things I need to take care of.”
“Like what?”
“Like dumping the car where it won't be found for a few days.”
“Can I come with you?”
“You could but you look done in and it might be a long walk. Why not have a shower and relax. I'll not be long.”
“You're not going to run off and leave me.”
Solomon smiled. “I'd never do that to you, darlin'.”
Daisy reached out for the door handle. “Be careful.”
“I didn't think you cared.”
“I don't. I just need you to help me solve my case.”
“It's nice to know I'm needed.”
Daisy smiled. “Don't get used to it. When you get back, we’ll be continuing our discussion.”
“What discussion?”
“The one where you admit that this isn't the first car you've ever stolen.”
“I never claimed it was.”
Daisy frowned at him. “So you're finally ready to admit you stole my car.”
“I'm not. I've a rich and varied past. Stealing cars was one of the many things I learned as a child.”
“Your mam must have been dead proud.”
“Proud enough to cuff my ear and kick me up the arse.”
“Do you think you'd have stolen cars if you'd had a dad?”
“I had a da.”
“I meant one that lived with you. Are you ever going to try and find out who he really was?”
Solomon shrugged. “No point. I survived my childhood without him and I've no need of a da now. I had my ma and she was more than enough for me.”
“I bet you were a real snot when you were a kid.”
“Am I not a snot now?”
“Fishing for compliments?”
Solomon leaned closer. “I know we've not always go
t along, but you do know that I'd give my very life to keep you safe.”
“If that's a pick up line it's really cheesy, and if it's not, and you were trying to reassure me, that didn't work either.”
“It was the God's honest truth.”
Daisy smiled. “Somehow I don't think you and the truth are bedfellows all that often.”
“I could be offended.”
“But you're not.”
Solomon chuckled. “No. Now off you go and check us in.”
“What name shall I use?”
“Whatever takes your fancy?”
Daisy hesitated. “How about Mr. and Mrs. Alsop?”
“That works.”
Daisy climbed out of the car and took the two backpacks Solomon handed to her. “I'll see you soon then?”
“You will indeed. Now get inside out of the rain and don't open the door to anyone.”
Daisy slammed the door and gave him a wave before making her way to the entrance and stepping inside.
* * * * *
Solomon turned the key in the lock and shoved the door open. The room was what he'd expected. Beige walls, worn brown carpet and matching bed covers. An overpowering flowery scent from a plug-in air freshener filled the room. Black and white prints of Paris hanging on every wall were a sad attempt to make it seem something more than a cheap room in a backstreet bed and breakfast.
Daisy had made herself at home. The floor was littered with the clothes she'd been wearing. He could hear water running in the bathroom. She must have stirred herself enough to take a shower. The contents of his backpacks were all over the bed. Obviously she wanted him to know she'd been snooping. His clothes were folded in a neat pile. His toiletries thrown hither and yon with an apparent lack of care.
His handgun and shoulder holster lay on the bedside table. She'd not be happy about the gun. He wasn't happy about the gun, but when you had a lunatic on your tail, you had to be prepared to step outside the law. He'd gotten out of being charged the last time he'd been caught with a gun because he helped solve a murder, and because he'd been the only one to be shot with it, but he doubted he could get away without being charged a second time.
The soft drizzle that had accompanied their progress up the motorway had turned to a deluge. He tossed the bags of shopping on the end of the bed and sat in a chair to pull off his sodden boots. It had been a long day and Daisy had nodded off not long after she'd spoken to Paul. Solomon's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled. Talk of the devil himself. He swiped to answer and held the phone to his ear.
