by Clare Kauter
They worked very well as weapons in this fight – for about three seconds. Then the inevitable happened.
The heel snapped, on not just one, but BOTH of the shoes. Story of my (soon to be greatly shortened) life.
I stared at the shoes in shock for a moment – I paid GOOD MONEY for those pieces of shit – before throwing them at Volkov’s face and running away from the door, around the platform that lined the walls on the upper level of the basement.
Volkov didn’t bother chasing me. He just stood in the same place by the top of the stairs, blocking the doorway. The others wouldn’t be able to get out either – if they tried coming up the steps, Volkov could easily push them backwards, and I didn’t imagine it would be a soft fall down those steel steps onto the concrete floor.
There was nowhere for us to go.
Volkov looked across at me and smiled maliciously.
And that was when the basement door flew open, hitting Volkov in the back of the head and knocking him forward, where he stumbled briefly before falling down the steps.
“There’s someone in here, boss!” cried the silhouette in the doorway, presumably one of the guys I’d knocked out earlier. He hadn’t seemed to notice that ‘boss’ was lying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the stairwell.
There was a commotion behind the man, though I couldn’t see quite what was happening. Suddenly, uniformed police officers crashed through the door, led by Joe Winton. I breathed a sigh of relief. Our backup was here.
The officers filled the room, arresting Volkov and his lackeys. I wandered back down the stairs and walked over to James.
“Are you OK?” he asked, brow furrowed.
I nodded. “Are you?”
He smiled and nodded, pulling me into a hug.
“I can’t believe you just tried to beat up an escaped convict with your shoes while your friends saved me and Adam with kitchen utensils.”
“Going to ruin your reputation.”
“Not as badly as it’s going to ruin yours. That squeal was –”
“If you value your life, you won’t finish that sentence, James McKenzie.”
He laughed softly and I turned to look at the others. Stacey was free and being comforted by C and Os. Coconut Head and Shorty were now handcuffed and ready to be led off to prison, and Adam was now checking their eyes, presumably for brain damage caused by the frying pan. Always the doctor. Once he was done with them, he made his way to Volkov, who was still lying on the ground, officers milling around, unsure of whether it was safe to cuff him or if his injuries were too severe.
“Help me,” Volkov wheezed. “I think I have internal bleeding.”
“That’s the least of your concerns, Volkov, given where you’re headed,” said Adam.
“Can we go home now?” I asked James.
“The police might want to get a statement first.”
I groaned. I didn’t have time for this shit. I had valuable sleep to catch up on.
James laughed at me. Joe walked over to us.
“You guys hug now?” he asked, brows raised.
“Yeah. Sometimes we even smile at each other,” James answered.
“You took your time,” I answered, keen to change the subject.
“Maybe if you’d called me in a little earlier –”
“I didn’t have time,” I lied. The truth was that I didn’t want to give Harcourt time to warn Volkov, but if I said that they’d think I was crazy.
Joe walked over to talk to another officer and James and I made our way back towards Os, C, Stacey and Adam (who was now checking that Stacey’s injuries).
“How’s it going?”
“I’ve never been more ashamed to be your employer,” said Adam.
“It all worked out in the end, though, right? So –”
“You screamed and ran away.”
“He’s huge! How am I meant to fight that?”
“Using your training!”
“Most of my training so far has been how to avoid getting hit, and I managed that, so I think you’re being a little unfair.”
“That was pathetic.”
I crossed my arms. Ignoring him, I turned to Stacey. “I’m really sorry about how this played out, Stace.”
“Why do I have such terrible taste in men?” she wailed.
“You just always see the best in people. It’s not your fault,” I answered. Then she broke down in tears again.
“That was a really nice thing to say,” James whispered.
“Why did it make her cry, then?” I whispered back.
“Sometimes humans cry when people say nice things. It’s OK. You should probably give her a hug or something, though. You’re not meant to just stand back and watch someone cry.”
“Oh, right.”
I stepped forward and pulled Stacey into a hug. She hugged me back and eventually stopped crying. We broke apart and a couple of officers came to take our statements.
When I had finished giving an officer the Cliff Notes version of what had happened, leaving out some of the less-legal aspects (e.g. various instances of picking locks and breaking into places), Harry Baxter strode into the room and made his way towards us.
He and Adam made eye contact. I realised that this was the first time I’d actually seen them in a room together. Was something about to go down?
Adam and Harry nodded at each other. What? Was that it?
“Charlie, I’m sorry I didn’t get your message earlier. I’m afraid I was out of range. You know I wouldn’t have turned my phone off and worried you like that intentionally.”
“Yeah, I figured. Um –”
“I hear you did quite an impressive job of taking on the guards and coming to the rescue.”
“Impressive wasn’t the word I would have chosen,” said Adam.
Harry shrugged. “She didn’t get captured.” In your face, Adam Baxter! “I’d better get back to the office, anyway. This little escapade has wreaked havoc on my schedule.”
That was it? I mean, sure, I wasn’t expecting much affection from these two, but that was a little cold. “By the way, Charlie, I like your outfit.”
With that, he left.
Adam looked at me and frowned. “Is that my shirt?”
“That’s what happens when you sleep with her. She raids your cupboards and takes your clothes,” said James.
“I’m so proud of you,” Celia whispered in my ear, as Stacey and Oswald watched on, dumbfounded.
Chapter Twenty
After all the excitement of the previous week, Monday afternoon back at the reception desk was even more boring than normal. By 4.30, I was actually dozing off at my desk. (After the incident in the Rift basement, Adam had decided to put me on a more intense self-defence program, and the extra exercise had really taken it out of me.)
The sound of the front door buzzer woke me rudely just as I was settling into a nice little nap, which may or may not have featured a shirtless James McKenzie feeding me a Lord of the Fries hotdog. (Yeah, my dreams were heavy on the symbolism.) The person who’d buzzed was a courier, so I let her in and signed for the package. It was only after she left that I realised the envelope was addressed to me.
I slit it open. Inside were two pieces of paper. The first was a note, which just said:
For a job well done.
The second piece of paper was a cheque for an obscene amount of money. I was still staring at the cheque twenty minutes later when Adam swung by my desk.
“Payment,” he said, gesturing to the cheque. “From the client who had me look into Lionel.”
I nodded. I wondered who it was. Government official? Diplomat? I wondered if we’d been hired by the same person who’d hired Bainbridge, but Adam wasn’t going to tell me who that was. “I can buy groceries.”
Not to mention that I could say goodbye to my credit card debt.
“You lead a very sad life if that is the first thing you want to do when you get money,” he said.
I shrugged. It was tru
e.
“By the way, how are you going with the other case? The kid?”
“Oh, yeah, fine.”
“The mother wants to meet you tomorrow. Hear what you’ve found.”
My pulse quickened. “Right.”
I still hadn’t figured out what to do about Jared. I couldn’t tell his mum his secret – not only had I promised not to, but also he’d tell her that he knew I was investigating him if I did. I needed to ask someone for advice.
“OK, I’ll tell her to come in tomorrow morning if it’s all sorted out.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I lied. It didn’t sound good. It sounded bad. Very bad.
“You’ll be even richer then.”
Well, OK, maybe it wasn’t that bad.
Adam left and I got ready to head home. Money, I thought. I have money again. Even though I wasn’t sure who’d sent it, I didn’t spend all that long thinking about it. Volkov was behind bars and would be extradited soon. I had no doubts that he was guilty. Where my money was coming from didn’t matter.
What did matter was what the hell I was going to do about Jared. For the entire drive home I thought of nothing else, and I was so consumed by it that I didn’t even notice until I was in the kitchen that there were people in my house. Well, Lea and Stacey. Judging by the drinks and party food, though, there were more people either here or on their way.
I blanched. Tell me this wasn’t another one of their ‘mate-finding’ parties.
“Charlie!” said Stacey, walking over and hugging me hello. “Sorry that nobody warned you – we were just worried you wouldn’t show up if you knew we were having a party.”
“You thought I wouldn’t show up to my own house?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Lea said, wiggling her brows at me.
Change the subject moment. “And what’s the occasion?”
“Celebrating our friendship!” Stacey said, before leaning in closer. “Celia’s here. We’re trying to, you know, sort things out.”
Right. “Good idea,” I said. I glanced at the kitchen bench, covered in various bottles of liquor and a few different flavours of punch. “The alcohol was probably a good move, too.”
Stacey and Lea nodded. “Oswald has been mediating the Joanna-Celia thing, but the punch is definitely helping.”
I grimaced. “Any disasters yet?”
“Not so far!”
A good sign.
“Who else is here?”
“All the girls,” said Stacey. “And Os, of course. Oh, and Celia’s roommate.”
“We’re not trying to set anybody up tonight,” Lea answered, catching the subtext of the question. “This is more of a girls’ night in.”
I nodded. “Is everyone out in the garden?”
After spooning myself a glass of punch and putting down my bag, I followed Lea and Stacey out to the garden. Stacey seemed to be holding up amazingly well given the situation. Outside, they’d set up a bunch of chairs around the pool, with snacks (dips, chips, fruit platters) on tables. There was music pumping from speakers somewhere, and by the sounds of it (lots of 90s tracks) it was broadcasting from Lea’s phone.
There were a number of free chairs, but I bit the bullet and dived straight into the conversation with Jo, Celia and Os. (Celia’s roommate was off talking to Penny and Naomi – probably a better choice.)
“Hey guys!” I said brightly, pulling up a chair next to them. “How’s it going?”
Oswald sent me a look that was something along the lines of ‘thank you’ and ‘but run away now and save yourself’. I ignored him and stayed put.
“Good thanks, Charlie!” said Celia, slightly forcedly.
“Jo?”
As the chief of the James McKenzie Fan Club, Jo was definitely going to be the last one to forgive Celia.
“Been better.”
I knew she was talking about the Celia situation, but I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“I know. It must have been so stressful when you found out that Os was in danger. It’s lucky we had him, though – he was the only reason we found Stacey and James in time. They’d be dead without him.”
She looked surprised. “Really?”
“Yes! He was amazing. He figured out where Lionel was hiding everyone and then knocked two of the bad guys out.”
She looked at him in amazement. “You didn’t tell me that!”
“He was great,” Celia agreed. “So calm and in control.”
Joanna glared at Celia.
“Jesus, Jo, she’s not trying to steal Os from you!” I said.
“How do you know?”
“Because she’s your friend, and she wouldn’t do that.”
“Friend? Really?”
“Yes, Jo!” I said. “She forgave me instantly for all the stuff I did to her over the years. Do you even know how much crap I did? Do you remember?”
Jo shrugged. “Sure, but –”
“We’ve known each other for so long. We can’t keep fighting. That’s ridiculous. No one can stay enemies for that long.”
“What about you and James?” Jo asked.
She had me. I had two possible responses: either I backed out of my statement, or I said that James and I weren’t enemies anymore.
I was betting she didn’t expect the response I chose.
“James and I aren’t enemies anymore,” I announced. Of course, there happened to be a lull in the conversation when I said it, and the entire party’s worth of heads turned to face me. I felt my face growing hot.
“It’s true,” said Lea. “They have civilised conversations now and everything.”
“Yeah,” said Stacey. “They hugged the other day.”
Jaws dropped.
“See?” I said, turning back to Jo and looking at her pointedly. She stared back open-mouthed.
“OK,” she said finally. “If you can forgive someone, I definitely have to try. I cannot be the difficult one out of the two of us.”
“Too right,” I said. I’d already lost too much of my identity by forgiving James and Celia. Jo couldn’t take over as the angry one. What would I have left?
Everyone got back to their conversations and I looked over at the pool. After my recent experiences in water, you would think I would have an aversion to swimming. The thing was, it was a really hot night, and I kind of needed some space to think away from the others. I went upstairs and changed into my baby blue and black polka dot bikini.
I slipped into the pool, enjoying the shock of the cool temperature on my skin. Dipping below the surface, I enjoyed the momentary silence, escaping the sounds of the Backstreet Boys and general chatter. I swam a few laps and then got back out, a little more relaxed. A nice change from my last couple of dips in the water.
I stepped out and dried myself quickly with the towel I’d brought out earlier. I towelled my hair as best I could and then left it to dry naturally. There was no one at this party I was trying to impress.
Of course, the second I thought that, who should appear but the one person in the world who could make me feel self conscious about my appearance?
Naturally, someone had invited James McKenzie.
He looked impeccable in a dark button-up shirt and slacks – not so much as a hair out of place. We made eye contact across the party and he smiled, walking my way.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I said. “You dressed up for the occasion.”
“I just came from a meeting,” he said, grinning. “You look pretty dressed up yourself.”
“I didn’t realise it was black tie.”
“Technically, I’m not actually wearing a black–”
“Shh,” I said. “Don’t go getting all pernickety.”
“Fine,” he said. “Uh, why is everyone staring at us?”
I sighed. “Earlier I announced that you and I are no longer enemies.”
“Ooh, it’s official?”
I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t really talked to anyone
yet, so I’d better do the rounds of the party.”
“Sure. I’ll come with you, friend.”
“Don’t push it.”
We made our way over to Penny and Naomi who were still chatting with Celia’s roommate.
“Hi!” they said in unison, clearly trying not to act weird, and therefore acting very strangely.
“Have you met Gina?” asked Naomi. “Celia’s roommate.”
“Yes, I have met Gina,” said James. “Celia’s roommate.”
The others were oblivious, but I caught a moment of eye contact between Gina and James. I was guessing ‘roommate’ was code for something else.
“I’m Charlie,” I said, holding out my hand. Gina shook it.
“Yeah, I’ve heard about you. You’re, like, the worst best friend in history, right?”
OK, so this friendship was going to take a little work. To be fair, I probably deserved it. If our situations were reversed, I’d be exactly the same level of hostile towards her.
“Just about,” I said, then glanced at James. “Although my brother’s up there on the list of terrible friends.”
“Tell me about it,” said James. “He’s just never there for me.”
Naomi and Penny stared on in shock as James and I cackled maniacally at our own lame jokes. It wasn’t something I often talked about with my friends, much less joked about. James was kind of the only one who understood.
The conversation kind of died then, what with Gina hating me and the other two too shocked to speak, so James and I excused ourselves and went back inside for more drinks.
We sat at the kitchen bench and spooned out some more punch.
“James?”
I needed advice about the Jared situation.
“Mmm?”
“I, um, took on another case at work,” I said. His eyes widened and he looked like he was about to have a panic attack. “An easy one! A really easy one. I just had to find out what a kid was doing in the afternoons when he was coming home late.”
“And you found out?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
