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

by JL Simpson

  “A friend.”

  “What friend?”

  Solomon shrugged. “No one you know so their name is not important.”

  “What are we doing here?”

  “We're using it as a safe house until we can solve the case.”

  “And how is staying here supposed to achieve that?”

  “It's not.”

  “I thought you said it was?”

  “I think you misunderstood.”

  “But you do have a plan to solve the case?”

  “That I do, Princess.”

  She got to her feet, her eyes wide with excitement. “What is it?”

  “The plan is for you to stay here while I go out for a couple of hours.”

  “Go where?”

  “I've a man I need to see.”

  “It's my case so shouldn't I be going to see him?”

  “He'll not speak to you.”

  “Why not? What's wrong with me?”

  Solomon laughed. “Absolutely nothing. The man likes to hide in the shadows. He'll not meet with anyone he doesn't already know and trust.”

  Daisy sighed with apparent frustration. “So what am I supposed to do then?”

  “Sit tight. The bar is fully stocked, as is the kitchen if you've a mind to cook for me.”

  Daisy snorted. “Do you really want me to cook?”

  “On second thoughts, you'd best leave off the cooking,” Daisy was no Nigella Lawson. If the flat didn't burn to the ground, there was a good chance whatever she created would result in a trip to the emergency room to get his stomach pumped. Neither option was particularly appealing. “I'll bring something back with me.”

  Daisy smiled. “Okay.”

  Solomon frowned. That was too easy. Daisy never agreed to do anything without a fight, especially if it meant she'd not be the one to solve the case. “Are you alright?”

  Her smile widened until she looked positively maniacal. “Of course I am.”

  “And you're going to stay here while I'm out?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why do I not believe you?”

  She laughed. “Because you're a suspicious git.”

  “Fine.” Solomon crossed the room to the front door. “Lock this, and don't be answering to anyone.” Daisy followed him and held the door as he stepped outside. “And you'd best still be here when I return.”

  “I'm not going anywhere. Off you go. Have fun.”

  Before he could respond, she slammed the door behind him. He hesitated for a moment. Should he head out to his meeting or should he find somewhere to hide so that he could watch the building to make sure Daisy stayed put? He rubbed his hand over his cropped hair. What would be the point in that? If she did stay put, he'd been hiding forever, and they'd never solve the bleedin' case. He tugged his phone from his pocket. What was the harm in asking for one more favor when he'd already sold his very soul to the devil?

  Chapter Forty

  Daisy stood with her ear pressed to the door until the sound of Solomon's footsteps disappeared into the distance. She considered her options, none of which involved playing house in an expensive flat while he went off and solved her case. She'd told Paul she would show him she could do the job. Having Solomon do it for her proved nothing.

  First things first, she needed to see what the flat had to offer in the way of modern technology. Her phone was still out of power but there might be a compatible charger thrown in a drawer somewhere. She picked up her bag from the sofa and hunted for her phone. Nothing. She glared at the front door. The Irish git had taken it with him. Even worse, he'd taken the cheap Nokia he had given her to use. He really didn't trust her. The realization stung a little. Maybe she should give him a reason for his distrust.

  The living room had a TV but nothing else of any interest. A long hallway led to a bedroom with an ensuite bathroom, a separate bathroom and a study. She crossed the dark blue deep pile carpet to the desk. The top drawer held a laptop, the second an iPad. Provided they weren't password protected, and connected to the internet, she had access to her Dropbox files. She perched on the edge of the black leather chair and got to work. It took less than five minutes for her to have everything she needed to put her plan into action. Solomon might be hell bent on finding the murderer, but she was only interested in finding Tomas Jenks' sister. The payment from Liam, and the look on Paul's face when she told him she had proved her point and had no intention of giving up her new career, would more than compensate for any time she spent in jail waiting for the police to work out who the real killer was.

  Daisy opened and closed drawers until she found a pen and some paper. She jotted down the two names, phone numbers and the address she needed and then logged off, closed the laptop and slid it back in the drawer where it belonged. No point in making it too easy for Solomon to work out what she'd done.

  Paper in hand, she made her way to the kitchen, climbed onto a leather topped barstool, and pulled the phone across the counter toward her. She lifted the handset, checked the number before pressing the appropriate buttons and holding it to her ear.

  The trill of the phone went on and on until Daisy gave up and ended the call. Apparently Maura Sidebottom wasn't home. Either the story that she had returned was a lie and she was still missing, or she had better things to do with her time.

  Daisy checked the other number on her piece of paper and dialed again.

  A female voice answered. “Hello?”

  Daisy took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. This was the person they should have spoken to before they ever went running off to the museum. “Is this Glenys Thompson?”

  “Speaking.”

  “My name's Daisy Dunlop. I'm trying to get in touch with your mam.”

  “Do you need her number?”

  “So she's returned?”

  “Returned? I'd no idea she'd been away.”

  Daisy chewed her bottom lip. Surely the police would have told Maura's daughter she was missing, unless Nancy said she'd do it. Either way it was odd she appeared to be in the dark. Did she tell Glenys? She decided against it. Solomon said Maura had returned so there was no point in upsetting the poor woman.

  “Maybe I'm mistaken. Anyway, um, maybe you can help me.”

  “With contacting my mum?”

  “No. I'm actually trying to find her brother, Cameron? Do you happen to have an address for him?”

  “Uncle Cameron? God, I've not heard his name in years.”

  “So, you've no current information for him?”

  “I might have. I'd have to look through my papers. Why are you looking for him?”

  “He’s a beneficiary in his great uncle’s will. The money can’t be distributed and the estate is wound up until I find all of the people entitled to a settlement.”

  “He’s getting an inheritance? I can see what information I’ve got and call you back if you like.”

  Daisy already knew roughly where Cameron was. If Glenys did have an address for him then Daisy would need to get back to Dorset. Now that they couldn't access the safety deposit box, there was no reason to stay in London. “Can I call by your house later today?”

  “What time?”

  Daisy checked the clock on the microwave. The trains to Poole went from Waterloo. If she allowed twenty-five minutes to get to the station, half-an-hour to catch a train and two hours for the journey, plus the time to drive to Charminster, she would be there… “Sometime between three and five?”

  “I should be in then.”

  “Okay, see you this afternoon. And thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

  Glenys laughed. “Don't thank me just yet. I might not have any details about Uncle Cameron.”

  Daisy smiled. “No matter. Thanks anyway.”

  They said their goodbyes and Daisy hung up. She leapt to her feet, grabbed her bag and was headed toward the door when reality hit. She’d spent the last of her cash at the café and her credit cards were maxed out. Her travel card would get her onto the
tube so she could get to Waterloo station, but what then? Bugger. She should have thought about that before arranging to visit Glenys. She could wait for Solomon and then include him in her plan, or she could come up with a plan B. Daisy crossed the room to look out of the window. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should leave a note, but then decided against it. The git would know she had made a run for it soon enough.

  She slammed the door behind her and made her way down the stairs, out the front door of the building and down the steps until she was on the pavement. A quick glance up and down the street confirmed that Solomon was nowhere in sight. Daisy flicked open her top two shirt buttons. With a sense of purpose, she turned left, crossed the road, and rapped her knuckles on the driver's side window of yet another nondescript black sedan. The window wound down. She leaned into the car and flashed her most beguiling smile at the young male occupant.

  “I know what you're doing.”

  The blond man's dark brown eyes widened with apparent surprise. “Sorry, madam. I've no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Yes, you do, but I'll forgive you snooping on me if you do me a quick favor.” Daisy leaned farther into the car. The man's focus shifted to her cleavage and back to her face. “Did the person who had you sent here to spy on me tell you to hold me prisoner?”

  The man frowned. “What person?”

  She grinned. “You're good. But not good enough.”

  “Not good enough for what?”

  “Open the passenger door and I'll tell you.”

  “Why would I open the passenger door?”

  “Because, my little would-be 007, it will be far easier to tell your master where I went, and what I'm doing, if you drive me to my destination.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket. Daisy grabbed his hand. “But best you not tell him until I'm gone. Unless you want to get all hot and sweaty chasing me through London. Besides, if he only wants you to tell him where I go, what harm is there in me leaving?”

  When he pulled his hand from his pocket she patted him on the cheek. “Good boy.”

  She walked around the car and climbed inside.

  “Where am I taking you?”

  “What's your name?”

  The man hesitated.

  “Come on. We've come this far.”

  He switched on the engine. “Timothy.”

  “Timothy what?”

  “Just Timothy.”

  Daisy grinned. “Well, just Timothy, I'm Daisy, nice to meet you.”

  He frowned as he pulled away from the curb. “I wish I could say the same thing.”

  Daisy reached over and patted his knee. “You will, Timothy. You will.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Daisy pulled her seatbelt around her. “Waterloo Station, Tim, and make it snappy.”

  “It’s Timothy.”

  Maybe this wasn't so bad. Having your very own chauffeur was kind of cool.

  * * * * *

  Solomon kept his eyes focused on his target. In and out quick as he could with the information he needed and then back to Daisy. Any discussion about the mission he would be required to do to pay for today's little adventure could wait. Daisy wasn't the most patient woman on the planet. He'd no doubt, given enough free time, she'd come to the conclusion he'd dumped her and head off on some crazy plan of her own. He checked his watch. Half-an-hour he'd been gone. Even Daisy would struggle to get into mischief in that short a time.

  The automatic doors to the steel and glass office block slid open and Solomon stepped inside. His footsteps echoed on the polished tile floor as he crossed toward a bank of elevators. He didn't need to check the building's directory. He'd been here often enough to know where he was going.

  When the elevator arrived, he stepped inside, pressed the button for the twenty-seventh floor, and moved to the back left corner to allow other travelers to join him. They shuffled in one by one pressing the buttons for various floors. Men in off-the-peg suits, and women reeking of cheap perfume all headed to various mundane jobs to pay for their small lives. He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. His status as a freelance businessman might be on hold but at least his employment was temporary, and whatever task he was given to perform would be more interesting than riding a desk all day.

  Only two people were left in the elevator when it reached Solomon's floor. He stepped out and hesitated. The sound of the chrome door swishing closed behind him was the final nail in the coffin. Too late to back out now. He tugged his jacket straight and set off at a cracking pace. There were some new faces but nothing else had changed in the two years since he'd last been here. Same dull carpet, same dull decor, probably the same insipid coffee and absolutely no doubt the same endless game of politics that had driven him away to begin with.

  Solomon's phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and accepted the call. “Solomon.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Cursing her weak bladder, Daisy exited the ladies’ toilets at Waterloo station. Timothy shoved his phone in his pocket but not fast enough to hide what he'd been doing from Daisy. He was supposed to be buying her a ticket to Poole, not reporting her every move to Solomon. The next train was twenty minutes away. The last thing she needed was for Solomon to join her. He would be in a mood that she could do without. Besides, she didn't need his help to find her missing heir. Anything else that was going on could be taken care of by the relevant authorities. She wasn't a PI and she had no desire to be one. Her role was very specific and Solomon needed to realize that. Every time he got involved, things got right out of hand. The man was a magnet for murder.

  Timothy held out a ticket and she took it. “Who were you talking to?”

  “I'd rather not say.”

  “Was it Solomon?”

  “I'd rather not say.”

  “Is he on his way? He'd better not be catching this bloody train.”

  Timothy smiled. “He's not.”

  “And why is that funny?”

  “I was just wondering how you'd feel if I was joining you.”

  “Are you?”

  Timothy tugged another ticket from his coat pocket. “Indeed I am.”

  Daisy glared at him. “Are you going to get in my way?”

  “Not at all.”

  “So what are you doing?”

  “Mr. Solomon asked that I offer you any assistance necessary to keep you out of harm’s way.”

  “Babysitting then?”

  “You're not a baby.”

  Daisy flashed him a flirtatious smile. “I'm glad you noticed.”

  “Myself and every other male in the vicinity. Mr. Solomon warned me to be on the lookout for your flirtatious ways.”

  “His name is just Solomon and is that what he's calling them?”

  Timothy's smile made it all the way to his eyes. “So it would seem.”

  Daisy did up the two buttons on her shirt she'd undone earlier. “Don't panic, Timothy. My flirtatious ways are happily married.”

  “Ah yes, your husband, Paul Dunlop.”

  Daisy frowned. “What do you know about my Paul?”

  The left side of Timothy's mouth curled up and he raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely nothing, Mrs. Dunlop.”

  “You know, if you want to succeed at this spying malarkey, you need to learn to be a more convincing liar, and my name's Daisy. My mother-in-law is Mrs. Dunlop.” Daisy grabbed onto Timothy's arm. “Now, don't we have a train to catch?”

  * * * * *

  Solomon shoved his phone in his pocket. He'd underestimated Daisy, again. The woman was bleedin' unbelievable. If he didn't think he could get answers that would save her from herself, he would be making his way to Waterloo Station, but instead he had to leave her safety to Timothy. He would feel more confident if the boy wasn't so wet behind the ears. She'd have him wrapped around her little finger in no time at all.

  A man in a dark blue suit stepped out of the office Solomon was headed toward. Solomon frowned in response to the man's cheery smile. Had this
all been a set-up? He considered the whole sorry saga of Daisy's latest case and came to the conclusion that three murders and a potential kidnapping was too much effort to go to just to get him back in the harness. They'd called with various offers, cajoled, grumbled, had even made murmured threats but innocent lives wouldn't have been lost to get him to do one more mission, would they?

  The man offered his hand in greeting. “Liffey, good to see you.”

  Solomon shoved his hands in his pockets. “Campbell, I wish I could say the same.” He might be back working for the man but he had no intention of pretending he was happy about it. “Do you have the information?”

  “We’ve set up a room for you with all you need.”

  “And King?”

  “Provided his operation isn’t compromised, your companion is safe.”

  “What operation?”

  Campbell’s smile never made it to his eyes. “Good try, but I won’t be sharing classified information with you just yet.” He waved toward the front corner of the building. “Shall we go and see how Sarah is getting on?”

  “Sarah?”

  “She’ll be assisting you. Is that going to be a problem?”

  Solomon shook his head before falling in step behind Campbell. Now he had to deal with his sudden change of employment, and Sarah. Daisy owed him big time for what he was about to do.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Solomon forced a smile, hoping it didn't look as stiff as it felt. The click as he closed the office door behind him sounded deafening in the cold silence. Sarah flipped her curtain of long blonde hair over her shoulder. He'd anticipated dislike, maybe distrust, but the hatred in her dark-eyed stare had him pinned to the spot. He hadn’t expected bunting and a welcome back party when he agreed to come back to work but he also hadn't planned on seeing Sarah.

  After their last job together, she had every right to hate him. She was not an advocate of the notion that all was fair in love and war. He needed to prove a point and she'd been game to play along with him. When it all blew up in their faces, he decided to quit. She chose to stay, despite the disciplinary committee insisting she undertake retraining and ride a desk for a year before she would be allowed out in public again.