She set them aside to wear, telling herself Jenny wouldn’t mind.
Home. Royce? Sugar. Should she call Royce?
Officially, he was still Jenny’s husband. The man in Wellington had said they’d contact Royce, but should she too, for decency’s sake? She’d mentioned Jenny and Royce’s separation and the restraining order against him to the cops. She hadn’t told the rotund policeman, for a crazy instant, she’d thought she’d seen Royce last night.
A ludicrous idea.
Planes and Royce didn’t mix as he hated flying. One of the many reasons Jenny had decided on a trip to the other side of the world.
Reassured by the thought, she kept on with her folding and going through Jenny’s things. She pulled out Jenny’s suitcase and noticed something tucked into an inner pocket. Papers. Probably a hard copy of their travel itinerary. Jenny had copies on her laptop and phone and this was a backup. She pulled out the sheath of papers and flicked through them before coming to an envelope with her name written on it in her sister’s writing.
She stared at the papers, the words jumbling as more tears fell. Then, long seconds later, she opened the envelope and started reading.
Chapter Five
Stone Farm cottage, Gilcrest Station, outskirts of Middlemarch
The man stomped across the open ground, fury still pumping through his veins hours after the deed. The bitch had taunted him, told him she had a new lover, a new life, and she didn’t need him any longer. Surplus to requirements, she’d said. Surplus!
He strode along the path bordering a river. Several fishermen hailed him as he passed, their friendly greetings grating on his nerves. Bah! Why were they so happy? Stuck in this back end of the world with no entertainment, no decent restaurants, no whisky. God, he’d had to resort to common stuff when he only drank premium Scottish.
Why had the woman traveled halfway across the world?
She’d pushed him to act.
It was her fault she was dead.
He stopped at a bend in the river and dropped onto a seat placed beneath a willow. The afternoon had turned nippy, the cold whistling over the piles of schist rock and striking his face.
He cursed and cursed again.
All his problems started with women.
If she hadn’t taunted him, hadn’t boasted of her new love and told him what she done to best him, she’d still be alive. He’d have taken her to bed and made her scream, given her the pain she deserved, the prod that added spice to a loving and made him come hard. Fuck, he should’ve agreed to a baby when she’d suggested it to him. She wouldn’t have left him if they’d had a child.
Her fault.
Her fault.
Her fuckin’ fault.
His heart thumped so hard, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He forced an extra big inhalation. Slow and calm breaths and his racing pulse settled.
He needed a plan. Yeah, he’d ditch his old plan. His brain ticked over fast as a computer. He had a good brain. All he had to do was use it and find a way over or around this roadblock. And food. He needed food to aid his brainpower. The roast dinners never tasted as good as the ones at home, but it would suffice.
He had three weeks before he needed to fork over the money for the investment. The bitch had plenty of money stashed away—money she’d kept to herself instead of sharing. He had a right to that wealth. A legal right and she’d denied him.
And now, she taunted him…
A thought occurred. He twisted and tugged at the idea before a slow smile bloomed. The smile dug into his cheeks. Sexy dimples, she’d called them when they’d first met.
Yeah.
He’d done it once.
He could do it again.
The bitch owed him, and one way or the other he’d get his just rewards.
It was only fair.
Happier now that he had a plan, he stood and made his way to his rented cottage.
She’d thought she was smart. Wrong. He was the clever one who’d accessed her laptop via remote to learn everything he’d needed to locate her. She hadn’t had a clue, and he grinned, recalling her expression once she’d recognized him.
The shock.
The sliver of fear.
Then she’d had to open her mouth, and he’d lost his temper.
That wouldn’t happen again.
Never let it be said he didn’t learn from his mistakes.
* * * * *
She’d been crying. Gerard’s heart squeezed out an extra pump on seeing the red-rimmed eyes and pale face. Without a second thought, he pulled London into his arms and gave her a hug. She clung to him, and despite the circumstances, his feline purred. Gerard pressed a kiss to her forehead, most of her straight brown hair hidden beneath a pale cream beanie, then pulled back to smile at her. A matching scarf wound around her neck.
“Are you ready to go? It’s cold, but it’s not raining.”
“I’d like to walk, if that’s okay. It will help my stiff muscles.”
“We never got around to that massage, did we?” He took her hand because it pleased him and led her from the bed-and-breakfast and along the garden path to the entrance gate.
“I contacted the High Commission in Wellington and found out what I needed to do.”
“Aw, hell. No wonder you’ve been crying. I could have helped you.”
“No, I needed to do it myself. I packed Jenny’s stuff.”
Surprise filled him and he turned to read her expression. “The cops didn’t come to search through her gear?”
“No. I didn’t even consider that but they should have.”
“Yes. They should explore other avenues. Henry did not do this, London. I know my friend. He’d never hurt a woman. Never.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to keep telling me. My brain got scrambled at first, but I agree. I saw Henry and Jenny together before the race. They were happy and only had eyes for each other. Where is Geoffrey?”
“I had to leave him locked up, and he isn’t happy with me. When he couldn’t find Henry, he started whining and crying. Geoffrey knows something is wrong.”
“I don’t suppose you could take him to the police station.”
“His lawyer told me they’re sending Henry to Dunedin.” Not gonna happen.
“I’m sorry.”
Gerard led her toward Storm in a Teacup. “It’s not your fault. Did you see anything strange when we approached the clearing?”
“No, not really. I looked for Jenny and Henry then focused on the zombies. There were a lot of them.”
“Yes. I saw a zombie come out of the bush. He was big, tall, but he disappeared. We don’t know his identity. The police think they have their man and aren’t following up on other leads.”
“How did Henry get the knife? He wasn’t carrying any bags. You both wore shorts. There was nowhere for him to hide a knife. Running with one and doing the obstacles—impossible.”
“His fingerprints were on the knife,” Gerard said. “Henry has medical training. He touched the hilt and applied pressure to stop the blood flow, but he was too late.” Gerard heard London’s hard swallow and guilt filled him. “I’m sorry. This is difficult for you, but I thought you’d prefer to know the truth. Hiding information from you is the worst thing we can do.”
The nights closed in fast since New Zealand was moving into late autumn. The streetlights shone on the footpath, allowing her glimpses of gardens and the shop fronts they passed.
“What is a co-op shop?”
“It’s a new business, opening next week, I think. The locals can take produce or goods and sell them at the co-op shop. They receive the money less a small commission to pay for the rent and the shop assistant’s wages. They will sell things from flowers and vegetables to T-shirts and pots for plants. Lots of arty people live in or near Middlemarch.”
“I wish I’d made it to the craft market. Who won the zombie run?”
“A guy on the local rugby team had the fastest time. It took a while to so
rt out the times since the course changed for some of the runners. The winning zombie captured forty-two lives. Saber said they’d do a rerun in the spring and offer everyone who ran this race a discount on the entry fee. From what I hear everyone was happy with that and had a good time.”
Gerard opened the door for her and she shivered.
“Cold?”
“No, I keep getting this creepy feeling.” She glanced over her shoulder, peering into the dark and shadows untouched by the streetlights. “Ever since we left the bed-and-breakfast it feels as if someone is watching us.”
Gerard shunted her inside the café and guided her toward the counter. “We have a booking,” he told the young girl at the counter. “Gerard Drummond.”
They waited in silence while the teenager checked the reservations then picked up menus and directed them to a private table. Once the girl left them and they’d removed their outerwear, Gerard resumed the conversation.
“What sort of creepy feeling? I didn’t notice anyone.”
She shrugged. “Probably my imagination.”
“You thought you saw someone you recognized in the pub. Who?”
“A mistake.”
“But who did you think it was?” He willed her to answer because he thought her instincts were right. He’d sensed someone too. They’d followed them at a distance when they left the bed-and-breakfast. He’d considered backtracking to find them and ultimately decided he’d keep London safe. Before they left, he’d contact Isabella and Leo. They could trail them and see if anyone followed them to the bed-and-breakfast.
“Jenny’s husband,” she blurted. “It looked like Royce. It wasn’t though. He hates flying. No way he’d follow us to New Zealand. Even if he had, how could he find us? That’s part of the reason Jenny visited this part of the world. She knew Royce would bite off his hand rather than get on a plane.”
“Tell me more about Royce.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Do I have to?”
“If you thought you saw him here, we need to investigate that lead. The cops aren’t going to, which means we should.” He interrupted when she opened her mouth to speak. “No, if there’s an outside chance, we should check on his location.”
“As long as I don’t have to speak with him. I was going to ring him, to tell him about Jenny, but I just can’t make myself.”
Gerard opened his menu and studied the three available dishes. He decided on the roast pork for a change from steak. “You disliked your brother-in-law?”
“He’s a control freak and uses force to get what he wants.”
“Do you think him capable of murder?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t hesitate, a fact that surprised Gerard. “The cops check on the husband first, but this case is different because she’s in New Zealand and he’s in England. Do you have a contact number?”
“A number for the apartment they used to share in the city. I gave the High Commission the number. They will have contacted him. The man I spoke to told me he’d take care of the notification, although I considered calling Royce too.”
“Do you have the number?”
She nodded.
“Ring it. Check he’s in England.” It was an order. He saw her swallow, the tremor of nerves as she reached for her handbag. “I can do it for you.”
“No. I’ll do it.” She pushed buttons on her phone then held it to her ear.
Gerard watched her the entire time, saw her fear linger, the tension in her shoulders as she waited for this Royce to answer the call. With his feline hearing, he heard the rings. At ring eight, a machine clicked on and a man’s voice said he wasn’t available to take the call, to leave a message. London hung up without leaving a message.
“I’ll try again later. There’s a twelve-hour time difference, so he might have gone to the gym.”
“You didn’t leave a message.”
“No, it’s best if he answers. I don’t think he’d return my call.”
“You know best,” Gerard said. “Have you decided what you want to eat?”
“Yes, I’ll have the blue cod, chips and salad.”
“A drink?”
“A glass of Sauvignon Blanc,” she said.
Gerard placed their order when the waitress returned. The restaurant was busy, full of locals and a few strangers. He scanned faces of those who weren’t familiar to him and met the gaze of a big man with salt-and-pepper hair waiting for a table. He nodded before turning his attention to a menu. The zombie and this guy looked as if they might be a similar height but this guy looked doughy and overweight. He didn’t appear as if he could run across the street let alone wield a knife and escape with no one seeing him.
“Gerard.”
He jumped when London touched him on the hand to gain his attention. “What? What is it?” He blustered to hide his surprise, his confusion. No one took him unawares in that manner.
Her eyes rounded and her expression shuttered. Hell.
“I’m sorry. I was miles away, and you made me start.”
“Thinking about Henry?”
“Yes.” Not far from the truth.
“You’re close.”
“He’s my best friend, along with Sam Mitchell. I spend so much time with Henry. We were school friends and in the army together. He’s my brother and my business partner. I trust him with my life.”
“Jenny—we hadn’t spoken for years. Three and a half years. This holiday—part of it was us reconnecting.”
“What happened?”
“Royce Weaver,” London said. “I met Royce when I worked in London. I only moved to Bath three years ago. Before that I lived in London and shared the Notting Hill house our parents left us with Jenny—well, apart from the short time when I moved into an apartment.” She paused while their drinks arrived. The waitress left them a basket of fresh bread, oil and dips. Once the waitress moved to a neighboring table, she continued talking. “I fell for Royce straightaway. He was charming and good looking and seemed to listen, to be interested in me.” She picked up her glass of wine and gulped the first sip.
Gerard remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Not only was he interested in London and Jenny, but he wanted to hear more of this Royce. He intended to get Isabella to check him out anyway. The cops should have looked at the husband, even if he lived across the other side of the world.
“Royce acted interested in me, although I was overweight.”
“You’re not overweight. You’re healthy.”
“I am now. Then, not so much. In Bath I had little money, which meant I didn’t exist on convenience food. I exercised more and lost weight. What I didn’t figure out for a long time was that Royce was pumping me for information on my older sister. It was her he wanted, and his behavior toward me changed. He had his charming side and what I called his evil twin. I never knew which man would turn up when he came home from work. One night he hit me when I didn’t follow an order he gave me. I-I…he hurt me. Gave me a bloody nose and my eye went black.”
Fury pounded Gerard. A growl squeezed past his compressed lips and feline claws dug into his clenched fists. He inhaled and forced his feline to subside.
London frowned at him and he managed a sheepish laugh, although the lingering edges of his temper remained sharp and capable of flaring out of control if he didn’t take care.
“I told him to leave.” She swallowed, her cheeks devoid of color and he wanted to reach for her hand. He couldn’t because claws still protruded past his fingernails. “He dragged me upstairs, kicked me in the ribs because I wasn’t quick enough to climb to my feet and he… I ended up with a broken arm to go with my blood nose and black eye.”
“You should have had him arrested.”
She swallowed loudly. “I wanted to forget the whole thing.”
“Didn’t your sister notice your injuries? Your friends?”
“Royce made sure I was isolated, and Jenny traveled often.” She shrugged. “I was always an uncoordinated child, so Jen
ny believed Royce when he said I was the clumsiest person he’d ever met. Jenny believed I was denying my clumsiness because I was embarrassed. Royce played us both.”
“I see. What happened next?”
“Royce stayed away from me, and I thanked the stars for my lucky escape. But then I realized he and Jenny were dating. They’d been seeing each other on the sly, and he’d asked her to marry him. I tried to tell Jenny she was making a mistake, that he was a violent man. She accused me of jealousy and trying to wreck her happiness. Our relationship became frosty and when she married Royce two weeks later, I knew I couldn’t stay in London. A friend was moving to Bath for their job, and when she suggested I should go too, I seized the opportunity. I haven’t regretted the move, but I missed my sister.”
“When did you get back together again?”
“Jenny rang me out of the blue. She apologized and told me I had been right about Royce and she wanted out of the marriage. At first, I hung up on her, but she persisted. She left her job and joined me in Bath. A part of me was still angry at her. She’d shattered my trust, but she was the only family I had. Eventually, she talked me into this holiday. After three and a half years, I wanted to know my sister again—despite the past. I wanted to reconnect, so I jumped at the chance when she offered to pay our airfares. I figured, if everything went pear-shaped, I could return to Bath.”
“Lucky break for me,” Gerard said, meaning every word. “If it wasn’t for your sister dragging you over to this side of the world, I’d never have met you.” He seized her hand, careful not to prick her with his claws. “I mean it. I like you a lot, London. It’s not the right time now, but I want to get to know you better.”
A blush flooded her pale visage, a tremulous smile forming on her lips.
“I promise to treat you right. I can’t promise I won’t lose my temper at times, but I will never strike you in anger.” His gaze connected with hers. “Never.”
My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6) Page 6
