by Tricia Jones
His chin went back and he drew in a long breath. “I didn’t think you needed to know until I’d worked out the answer to the question.”
“You’ve been following him?”
“I’ve been following Colcannon. Your father just happened to be there.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me, but instead questioned me to see what I knew.”
“I’m just trying to piece all this together.”
“So you said before, and you thought pumping the daughter for information was the best way to go.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What do you know about my father’s relationship with Colcannon?”
“I don’t know anything. Only that they met in the Longmead Club on Friday afternoon.”
“And you confronted him? Is that why you two were at loggerheads on Friday night?”
Saul hesitated and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. He looked away, then looked back and held her gaze. “He doesn’t know I saw him. I didn’t say.”
“Why not? Aren’t you reporters always digging for the truth? Always pushing your noses into other people’s business and coming up with half-truths and innuendoes which have no grounding in fact?”
His eyebrows drew together in a scowl. “In this case the facts are staring us right in the face, sweetheart. Unless you think I somehow doctored that photograph.”
Stepping forward, Mia stabbed a finger at him. “I don’t know why you think you have the right to be pissed. You’re the one who lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. Okay, maybe I should have told you and maybe it was a wrong call, but I stick by my decision to wait until I had more to go on than that one photograph.”
“Then why didn’t you ask him when you had the chance?”
“I figured he wouldn’t tell me anything, and if he knew I had something he’d likely clam up.”
Her body felt chilled, yet her hands were clammy. “Are you investigating my father?”
“I’m investigating Colcannon, and all his associates at this point.”
“Which means yes.”
His silence was her answer. She stared at him, wondering how she’d let herself be taken in by a man who used duplicity so easily. She thought of all the things she’d told him about her life, trying to remember if she’d said anything that might hurt her father. Anything at all that Saul could use against him.
When her mind whirled, she knew she needed to get out of there so she could think straight.
In the bedroom, she snatched up her things, jerking when Saul came up behind her and touched his hands to her shoulders.
She didn’t shake him off, but continued gathering up her things. “You lied to me,” she said, annoyed that her voice trembled. “You’ll claim it was by omission, but it amounts to the same thing.”
“I’m sorry.” His fingers pressed lightly into her flesh. “I never meant for you to be upset.”
She turned abruptly. “You think I won’t get upset when people treat me like an idiot? When they use me to get information? When they don’t trust me?”
“If we’re talking about trust, maybe I could ask you why you were snooping around into my business.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You don’t call checking out my camera, snooping?”
She yanked at her bag. “I wanted to make sure you’d deleted that photo of me.”
“And we’re back to the trust issue.”
She brushed past him, not caring when her hairbrush fell out of the unfastened bag. She stormed to the door, grabbed her coat from the rack, and threw it over her arm.
She made it down the stairs and along the hallway when Saul caught up with her. “Let’s talk about this.”
“So you can decline to tell me about other facts which concern me?”
“Mia…”
Fiercely, she shrugged his hand from her arm. “You’d be wise to stay away from me and my family.”
“I can’t do that.”
“There’s nothing to know. All you have is a chance meeting between two men who frequent the same club.”
“One of whom happened to be the last registered owner of an expensive piece of jewelry which was sent to you.”
Mia had tried hard not to keep thinking about the connection, but now it hit her full in the face. “The ring was likely stolen or something. It’s just sheer coincidence that Colcannon’s name popped up as the last owner. We’ve already established there’s no link between him and me.”
“Except your father.”
Mia couldn’t hold on to her temper any longer and her shoulders slumped. “Oh hell, this is all so ridiculous.” She brought her free hand up to her face and rubbed her forehead. “I need to talk to my father.”
When Saul stepped forward as if to accompany her out the door, she held up her hand. “I need to talk to him alone.”
His chin went up. “And you don’t want the pushy reporter involved.”
“You’re right. I don’t want you involved. I’ll handle this myself.”
He stepped back, his face hard and uncompromising. “It won’t stop me, Mia.”
That hurt more than she’d expected it would. “I know.”
****
Saul watched Mia hurry down the street. For a moment he thought to follow her, but decided he didn’t want to add to her list of his misdemeanors if she caught him. Shit. It felt like he was sending an innocent to the slaughter. Her father’s warning about putting her in harm’s way had him stepping out onto the pavement with the intention of catching up whether she liked it or not.
As he walked, Saul tapped the envelope in his jacket pocket. In the light of what just happened, maybe he should have told her about the contents even before he’d verified and made his own investigations. But he had a gut deep feeling that however this all played out, Mia would get hurt. Until he knew all the facts, he’d take steps to protect her. And if that meant she’d hate his guts for a while, so-be-it.
She took the tube and he followed at a safe distance. All the while, he searched for the man who had been following her. Although he hadn’t spotted him recently, it didn’t mean the man was no longer around.
He’d barely gotten the thought clear of his head when he spotted the guy. From the way the man weaved and ducked, Saul knew he was a professional. His blood chilled.
What somehow made the whole thing even more unpalatable was the way Mia walked along completely unaware of either of them. It incensed Saul and made him hurry his steps to close the gap between him and the man.
He wondered whether to keep following the man, see what he did, if he spoke or contacted anyone. But his temper rose and before he could make a balanced decision he’d swung to step in front of the man as he entered the tube station where Mia had disappeared.
“You want to tell me what the hell you’re playing at?” Saul gripped the man’s arm to ensure he didn’t escape. “Why you’ve been stalking a woman for the best part of a week?”
The man didn’t even attempt to shake off Saul’s hand. It was as if he knew him, and Saul had the distinct impression he had almost been expecting this very situation to occur.
“Seemed to me that the lady didn’t want to spend another moment in your company,” the man said, finally shaking off Saul’s hold. “So the fact you’re following her puts you in the same category.”
“You’ve got two minutes to tell me the truth,” Saul warned, his words driven by anger and fear for Mia. “Or I’m calling the cops.”
The man hissed in a breath, his eyes alert and exploratory. Then he sucked in a breath. “I am the cops.”
Saul reeled as if he’d been sucker-punched. “What the hell? Why in God’s name are you following Mia?”
“To keep her safe.”
“From whom?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
Like hell. “If it affects Mia, I damn well do need to know.”
“It’s not my place to say.” When Saul held his
ground, the man gave a rueful smile. “You’d better come with me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mia stormed up the steps to the house, shaking so much she was barely able to keep hold of her keys. She wasn’t about to be fobbed off with some lame excuse as to why her father had kept his relationship with Colcannon a secret. What would he say when she told him Colcannon was the last registered owner of the ring she’d received? Would he be aware of that? Would he link it to this admirer of hers?
Inside, she threw off her coat and dumped her bag on the hall table. The light was on in the kitchen so she stormed through the hallway. Her father was making a sandwich and he turned to look over his shoulder at Mia in the doorway.
“I thought you were Sylvia. She went out to get some milk.”
Mia tried to calm her thumping heart and renewed her vow to see this thing through. “You never told me you knew Roger Colcannon.”
She kept her gaze firmly on him checking for his reaction. Only the barest stiffening of his shoulders before he went back to buttering more bread.
Mia stepped forward to stand next to him. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you, and I’d prefer you didn’t take that tone with me.”
“Then tell me what your relationship is with Colcannon. And don’t even try to fob me off.”
“I barely know the man,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “A passing acquaintance. In my line of work—”
“Then why were you seen in conversation with him at the Longmead Club last Friday?”
The knife froze mid-spread, but he soon recovered his composure and continued the task. “I’m a member. Why wouldn’t I frequent the place on occasion and pass the time with colleagues and acquaintances?”
“You’re not telling the truth.”
The knife fell with a clatter against the worktop and Armstrong swung around. “Don’t you dare speak to me that way, young lady. I won’t be disrespected in my own home.”
“It’s my home, too.” Mia swung back, although her father’s sharp tone and manner gave her pause. He rarely reprimanded her and never quite so sharply. “And I’m not a young lady, I’m a woman, and capable of handling my own affairs and being given the courtesy of knowing the truth about things that affect me.”
“And why the hell would my knowing Colcannon affect you?”
“Because I was sent a ring from the Calypso Collection, and the last owner of the ring was Roger Colcannon.” When he didn’t seem the least bit surprised or unnerved by her outburst, Mia accepted that whatever was going on, her father knew more about it than he was ready to admit. “From your reaction, or lack of it, I’d say you were already aware of that.”
His nostrils flared, his face paled, but he picked up the knife and went back to his domestic task.
“Dad, I deserve to know what’s going on. I’ve been receiving anonymous notes, got mugged, and Saul says there’s a man who’s been following me. I know you said the police were involved and we should now let it alone, but I need to understand what’s going on.”
Armstrong took a deep breath in and let it out on a resigned sigh. He turned and threw the knife in the sink and pushed the sandwich away. Without a word, he took Mia’s arm and led her to the table.
She couldn’t remember ever seeing her father look so resigned before, and it made her heart squeeze.
“Sit down.” He motioned her to a chair beside the one he took. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you or let you be hurt.”
“Of course I do,” Mia muttered. “But I’m not your little girl anymore and I deserve to know the truth about what affects me.”
He gave a poignant smile. “You’ll always be my little girl, darling. And I’ll always do whatever it takes to protect you.”
“Is that what you’re doing now? Protecting me? From what?”
“I speak generally.” He shrugged and looked away toward the far window. “Perhaps I should have told you that I knew who’d been sending the notes to you, and that I’d dealt with it, with him, in the best way I could.” He turned back and met her gaze. “It’s over now. You can forget it and get on with your life.”
“Who is it? I want to know the man’s name.”
He shook his head emphatically. “There’s no point. It’s over now.”
“There’s every point. I need to know who was doing that to me. I’ve been wracking my brains and I just can’t work out who I rejected that way.”
Armstrong stood abruptly and his chair scraped along the kitchen floor tiles. “I told you to leave it. It’s finished. Over. End of discussion.”
Mia leapt up as quickly and followed her father to the doorway where he was about to make his escape. “It’s not over, not by any means. I want to know his name.”
Her father disappeared into his study, where he’d close the door and in the mood he was in probably slide the bolt on it to keep her out. Well, not this time. She raced to get in the door before it closed. “Dad, I demand you speak to me. I demand you tell me what the bloody hell I need to know.”
He wagged his finger at her, something he hadn’t done since she was in school and refusing to do her homework. “You don’t speak to me that way, and you don’t make demands. If you have a problem with the way I handle things around here maybe you should think about—”
“About what—moving out? Don’t think I haven’t been considering it.”
The front door opened and Sylvia came in carrying a carton of milk and shaking her head. “What on earth’s going on? I could hear the two of you from the front porch.”
Mia snapped her arms across her chest. “Oh, nothing much. Just that I want to be treated like an adult, but apparently that’s too tall an order around here.”
“You want to be treated like one, you start acting like one.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Sylvia admonished her brother. “If the girl wants to spend the night with her young man she’s old enough to make that decision.”
Mia looked at her aunt, then back to her father. “You’ve got a problem with that, too?”
Her father glared back, but the look of disdain on his face was hard to ignore. “You can make your own decisions in that respect.”
“Right. It’s okay for me to sleep with whomever I like, but not to know the name of the man who’s been stalking me.”
Sylvia’s indrawn breath brought Mia’s attention back to her aunt. She couldn’t miss the look she gave to her brother, nor did she miss the subtle shake of her father’s head in response to his sister’s silent inquiry.
Before she could question them both, the doorbell sounded and Sylvia hurried to answer it. Moments later, Saul stepped inside followed by a tall, skinny man wearing a long black coat.
The man moved straight toward Armstrong as Saul came up to Mia. “Are you okay?”
She sidestepped when he tried to take her arm. There was too much going on right then, too many unanswered questions, besides which she was still mad as hell. “I’m fine.”
When Armstrong beckoned the man into his study, closing the door sharply behind them, Sylvia turned to Saul. “You’ll have to excuse my brother. Things are a little hectic and he’s just got back from a speaking engagement. He always takes time to wind down.”
While the winding down part was true, her father never engaged in slinging matches with her and was never rude to visitors. Which added weight to her current suspicions.
“Who’s that?” Mia demanded turning to Saul. “What were you doing coming here with him?”
“I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I need to speak with your father.”
Mia huffed. “Seems everyone wants that tonight.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “What’s your reason?”
“I’ve got some questions.”
“Which no doubt concerns me.” She threw up her hands. “What? Do I have incapable of dealing with her own issues tattooed on my forehead, or something?”
“Calm down.” Sylvia took Saul’s arm and then her niece’s and steered them toward the kitchen. “Everybody needs to calm down.”
Once in the kitchen, Mia folded her arms across her chest and glared at Saul. In turn, her aunt smiled gently at her. “Put on coffee. If I recall, Mr. O’Donnell is partial to it.”
“Saul.” He gave Sylvia a smile. “And thanks, that would be good.”
With reluctance, Mia went to the cupboard to get out filter coffee. As she set it on the counter, the door to her father’s study opened and the two men went toward the front door. Since it seemed the man was about to leave, Mia hurried to join them. There was no way he was leaving until she had a few answers. “Please stay for coffee,” she offered, ignoring her father who was ushering the man out. “I’m making some.”
The man hesitated, looked to her father, then smiled down at her. “I have to get going. But thank you anyway.”
Mia bit her lip, torn between insisting he stay or letting him go. Chances were he had nothing to do with anything, and it was merely a coincidence he’d arrived at the exact same moment as Saul. The only problem with that theory was there were far too many bloody coincidences going around at the moment.
With not a little impatience, she waited until the man left but as soon as the door closed, her father turned toward his study. “Who was that? Does he have something to do with what’s been going on?”
“Not now, Mia.”
“It’s not just me who wants answers. It seems Saul also wants them.”
Armstrong continued walking, but pushed his hands through his distinguished grey hair. “Tell him to come through.”
Mia’s mouth dropped open. Tell him to come through? He was willing to talk to Saul in the sanctity of his study, but not her? Well, she’d see about that.
Saul, who had obviously heard, was already entering Armstrong’s study. Her father was about to close the door when Mia pushed in. “Don’t even try and make me leave.” She walked into the center of the room to stand by her father’s desk. “Because I have absolutely no intention of doing so.” She glanced between her father and Saul. Another meaningful look passed between them. It seemed there were a whole lot of meaningful glances being passed between everyone but her.
