by JL Simpson
“Your woman is fine.”
“She'd better be. She seemed very vague on the phone.”
“It's part of her new plan.”
“What plan?”
“The one that makes you so jealous you'll jump her the minute she steps inside your house.”
“I would jump her if I had the chance and she had the inclination. Do I have something to be jealous about?”
Solomon chuckled. “You ijit, I'd never do anything with your wife you didn't approve of.”
“So why have you run away with her then?”
“We're following up a lead.”
“Where?”
“Where we are is not important.”
“You're being cagey.”
“I'm being cautious.”
“Does the reason you're being cautious have anything to do with the police?”
“Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because they dropped by an hour ago demanding to speak to Daisy.”
“Are you sure they were the police?”
“If not, they were doing a very good impression. One of them even had on the uniform.”
“There's no need to be sarcastic.”
“What's going on?'
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing useful because I don't know anything.”
“Great.”
“No, not great. What are you up to, and why is Daisy being chased by the cops?”
“Trust me, it will all work out and she'll be back before the end of the weekend.”
“Why can't you tell me what's going on?”
“The less you know the less you can tell the police.”
“Do you think I'm stupid enough to tell them anything without knowing what's going on first? Daisy might be in trouble, but if you say to keep my mouth shut it stays shut.” Paul sounded exasperated and with good reason. Solomon knew damn well that Paul would never blab. That's not to say that he wouldn't follow Daisy and lead the police and maybe the killer right to them.
“So what did you tell them?”
“That we'd had a falling out and she wasn't home.”
Solomon smiled. “Good work.”
“So, why are you two hiding from the police?”
“What makes you think we're hiding?”
“Because you're not here and you're not telling me what's going on. What aren't you telling me?”
“Nothing important.”
The bathroom door swung open and Daisy stood on the threshold to the room wrapped in a large white towel.
Solomon cleared his throat. “I have to go.”
“I'm going to keep calling until I get answers.”
“I've told you all you need to know.”
Paul yelled down the phone. “I'm going to keep calling.”
“You said that already.”
Solomon switched off his phone and tossed it on the bedside table.
Daisy frowned at him. “Who was that?”
“No one.”
“How come you can use your phone but I can't use mine?”
Solomon pushed to his feet and started to rummage through the bags he'd dropped on the bed. “Because I have a magic phone that no one can trace, and besides, your phone was out of power, again.”
“I can recharge it.”
“It's probably for the best if you don't.” Solomon pulled out a can of aerosol deodorant, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a hairbrush and handed them to Daisy.
She looked at the pile of stuff she'd been given. “I don't suppose you bought me any hair products or makeup?”
“I bought you the essentials.” Solomon reached over and grabbed a white t-shirt and pair of red boxer shorts from the pile of clothes Daisy had taken out of one of the backpacks. He offered them to Daisy. “I thought you'd be more comfortable if you weren't sleeping in the nude.”
“Does that mean you won't be sleeping nude either?”
Solomon chuckled. “Did you want me to, Princess?”
She shuddered with apparent revulsion. “No thank you.”
He passed her the clothes. “Once you're dressed, why don't you order some takeaway food? The woman who gave me the key says there's a folder of menus from places that deliver in the drawer by the bed.”
“Where are you going?”
“I'm taking a shower, Mrs. Alsop. Did you want to wash my back?”
Daisy gave him a shove. “Go away.”
He chuckled. “Why did you choose Ronan and Daisy Alsop?”
She shrugged as she fiddled with the items in her hands. “No reason.”
Solomon knew Daisy well enough to tell when she was lying. The surname hadn't been random but he was too tired to coax or torture the truth out of her. Whatever the reason, it was as good a name as any.
“Solomon?”
“What is it?”
“Why did you bring your gun?”
“I need to know I can protect you.”
She frowned. “Why would you risk jail to keep me safe?”
Solomon smiled. “Because Paul would have my bollocks if I didn't.”
He reached over to swipe his phone off the nightstand and then slid it back in his pocket before heading to the bathroom. Daisy's desire to snoop would get the better of her and she'd check who called. Best she not speak to Paul again tonight. The less he knew the better. Daisy could tell all once she was safely back home.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Daisy had a death grip on Solomon's hand as they weaved through the bustling crowds at Paddington station. Solomon was tall enough to see over the heads of most people, and she gladly followed his lead as he made his way in and out of the surging mass of humanity. Apart from waking up with Solomon in her bed, thankfully still clothed, the day was going well so far. However, she had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that something would go wrong. They were currently hustling toward the escalator to catch an underground train to Waterloo. Their cunning plan was still a work in progress.
People pushed and nudged Daisy as they all jostled for position. A dark-haired young man going against the flow bumped his shoulder into Daisy, sending her spiraling to her left and almost breaking her link with Solomon. With a growl Solomon turned and glared at the hapless traveler. “Give it back.”
The seething mass of humanity shifted to flow around them without any apparent reduction in speed. The man took a step backwards, his green eyes darting left and right. Daisy stared in disbelief as Solomon grabbed the front of the man's dark blue puffy jacket and hauled him up onto his toes. “If we weren't in a hurry, I'd teach you some manners, and then kick your sorry arse all the way to the police station. Now give the lady her purse back.”
Daisy checked her handbag. It was unzipped. She'd done it up when she stuck her travel card in the inside pocket, so how come it was open? After a bit of rummaging, she realized Solomon was right, her purse was missing.
The man let out a grunt as Solomon shoved him through the crowd and slammed him back against a convenient wall. No one paid them any attention. Another day, another shake-down. Everyone was too intent on what they were doing and where they were going to intervene. Daisy was convinced that Solomon could bludgeon the man to death and no one would stop him. How had the world become so uncaring?
Solomon gave the young guy a violent shake and he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, man. Lay off me and I'll give it back.”
With Solomon still holding on firmly to his coat, the man went to reach into his pocket.
Solomon grabbed his wrist. “What have you got in your pocket?”
“The lady's purse.”
“Daisy. You'll be reaching into his pocket and getting your purse.”
“I will?”
“The maggot could have a weapon and I've no desire to die today. Now reach into his pocket, get your purse and then we can be on our way.”
The man grinned. “Must be my lucky day, getting felt up by a pretty lady.”
The man flinched
as Solomon pushed his head into the wall. “It'll be your last day if you don't shut up.” Solomon glanced over his shoulder at Daisy. “We've not got all day.”
Daisy stepped closer and reached into the man's jacket pocket. Her fingers closed around her purse and she pulled it free. After she checked inside, Solomon let the guy go and he scampered off into the crowd.
“Right, now that you've got your purse we can keep moving.”
Daisy put the purse back inside her bag. She did a quick check to make sure nothing else was missing. The front pouch had been opened and was now empty. She looked up at Solomon. “I might have my purse but it looks like the mugger will be accessing Graham Harrison's safety deposit box.”
“What?”
“I took it out of the envelope in the backpack and put it in my bag for safe keeping. We've still got the key but the little shit took the swipe card.”
“Fecking bastard.” Solomon glared in the direction the man had fled. “Bollocks.”
“So, what now?”
Solomon ran his hand over his short cropped hair. “Now we need somewhere to stay and a new fecking plan.”
Daisy's feeling of dread that something would go wrong had proved correct. Well, almost correct. The plan hadn't failed. It had been stillborn.
* * * * *
Solomon paced up and down the pavement outside Cafe Nero with his phone pressed to his ear. He could see Daisy through the window munching on a sandwich and sipping a cup of tea. His backpacks were on the chair next to her. After their run-in with the pickpocket, she seemed a little on edge, staring at every person who dared to walk within five feet of her table. Losing the keycard had put an end to any hope they had of solving the case.
His cash was spent and they'd gone to a lot of trouble to drop off the radar. If he used his credit cards, they wouldn’t have time to do what needed to be done to clear their names before the cops worked out they were in London. Within hours, every policeman in the city would be on the lookout for them. Solomon could put on a dress again and hide Daisy's distinctive hair beneath a wig, but he'd rather pull back, regroup and solve the case without risking a night in jail.
Daisy had wanted to know why he couldn't make his call inside and he'd told her it was too noisy. Not a lie. Not the truth either.
Solomon switched his attention to the phone as Campbell’s Scottish brogue sounded in his ear. “I've got an apartment in a converted house in Mayfair. Is that going to work for you?”
“Perfect.”
Campbell rattled off the address along with the security code for the alarm system. By the time they got the tube to Green Station, someone would be waiting outside the house with a key.
“And the information?”
“Do you agree to my terms?”
Solomon clenched his fist. The man had him by the bollocks. He could say no and risk Daisy’s freedom or say yes, find out who the killer was and finally solve Daisy’s case. “It will be just the one?”
“Just one.”
“Fine.”
“Come into the office and you'll have all the information you need by the end of the day.” Solomon could hear the glee in Campbell’s voice.
Solomon thanked him and hung up. Daisy would be safe while they worked out what was going on, but at what price? Solomon had sold his very soul to the devil for the woman currently devouring the sandwich that had been meant for him. His status had been reset to active and his life was about to get a lot more complicated.
He agreed to one last job, but one had a habit of becoming two or three. Solomon shook his head as he shoved the cafe door open. She might not be his wife, his girlfriend or even his lover, but she'd done to him something no other woman ever could.
He'd figured he would give up his freedom at the altar as he was joined in holy matrimony to the woman he loved. Instead he'd given it up on a dingy London street for someone who belonged to another man, not that Daisy would ever know the truth about what he'd done for her. God only knew what the price of today's adventure was going to be, but to keep her safe he'd pay it.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Daisy was getting a bit sick of being dragged around without any explanation as to what they were doing or where they were going. She had assumed they'd sit in a cafe and come up with a plan B. She had some ideas about how to solve the case, but Solomon hadn't been in the least bit interested. He was on a mission and she was along for the ride. Now they were jogging up another escalator at another underground station. Why they couldn't keep to the side and wait for it to deliver them to the top with the minimum of effort was beyond her. The few times she had ventured into a gym, she'd avoided the stair climber for a good reason—there was no amount of pain worth going through to get a toned arse.
Their apparent rush didn't stop at the top of the escalator. Solomon had apparently forgotten about her injury and her ankle throbbed with each step. She jogged to keep up as they weaved through the crowd of Saturday travelers, burst through the exit barriers and up a staircase into the damp watery light of a London spring day. Without hesitation, Solomon took a turn to the left.
“Where are we going?”
“You'll see.”
“Is it far?”
Solomon shook his head as he turned another corner. The hustle and bustle of the busy main thoroughfare faded into the background the farther down the street they walked. If they were staying at one of the pretty boutique hotels with the elegantly clad doormen standing guard that were interspersed between grand four-story stone townhouses, it was a marked improvement on the previous night's accommodation, and far more expensive than was necessary. Solomon's Aston Martin would look right at home parked in amongst the Mercs, BMW's, Range Rovers and Porsches, and no doubt the man himself would adapt like a chameleon to fit into his new environment. Daisy, on the other hand, could never pass as anything other than what she was, a northern lass from lower to middle England.
“Wait here.” Solomon let her hand go and walked toward a particularly nondescript looking black sedan. As he got closer, the back door opened and a man in a pinstriped suit climbed out.
Unable to resist the temptation to find out who the man was, and what he had to do with solving her case, Daisy took a step closer. Solomon turned his head and glared at her. She stood still and fought a smile. The whole set up reminded her of a game called statues she played as a child. If the person at the front turned their head and caught you moving you were out; if you reached them without being seen you won.
Solomon's attention shifted back to the man from the car and Daisy ventured a step closer. Still unable to hear what was being said, she was however close enough to see the man hand Solomon a white envelope. Solomon tucked it into his jacket pocket and held his hand out. The sun broke through the clouds that were busily skittering across the sky, and glinted on the key as it fell into Solomon's palm. He closed his fist and muttered something to the man before turning on his heels and marching back to Daisy.
Apparently he had made some plans and involved her in something else she knew nothing about. She folded her arms and scowled at Solomon. “Are you going to tell me what the key and the mystery envelope are all about?” The black car pulled away from the curb and Daisy stared in disbelief. Solomon's contact had a chauffeur. She was slap bang in the middle of a murder case and on the run from the police, and Solomon was rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, or the rich, at least.
Solomon grabbed her hand and dragged her across the street. Daisy fought to get her hand back but it was no use. “Solomon! Solomon!”
He turned his head. “What?”
“What's going on?”
“What's going on, Princess, is a way to solve your case.” He set his foot on the bottom of a set of steps leading up to one of the many townhouses on the street. “Now can we get on?”
“Get on with what, exactly?”
Solomon let her hand go as he continued to climb the set of steps. If she wanted answers, she had no choice but to follo
w him, and she suspected he knew that her curiosity would override her need to be in charge. He used one of the keys to open the front door and stepped back to let Daisy enter ahead of him. She waited as he closed the door and then led the way up a flight of stairs before opening another door.
Solomon stepped inside and crossed to a panel on the wall, busily pressing numbers on a key pad. Daisy walked past him into a sprawling lounge room. Red leather couches sat either side of a white rug. Her heels clicked as she crossed the gleaming polished timber floor. As she got farther into the room, she could see a white kitchen fitted out with stainless steel appliances. It seemed no expense had been spared by whoever the owner was. If this was their new home until the case was solved, she wouldn't be too upset if Liam had to wait a few more days to find out who Tomas Jenks' sister was.
Daisy glanced over her shoulder at Solomon. “Is this your flat?”
He shook his head.
“So who does it belong to, and why are we here?”
*
Solomon frowned as he considered his answer. The truth was always an option, or a version of the truth. However, any sort of truth would lead to more questions. It was far better to keep Daisy in the dark. Giving her any information about what had been his former life could put them both in danger. Especially as his former life had suddenly become his current life, despite all his best intentions to leave the job behind.
“Solomon?”
“What?”
“Who owns the flat?”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
“Fine.”
“Fine? You'll give me answers?”
“Is that not what you want?”
Daisy frowned. “It is.”
“So ask your questions.”
She crossed the room and sat on the edge of one of the sofas. “Who owns this flat?”
