Digging Deeper

by Barbara Elsborg

  “I am.”

  Beck waited but she didn’t say anything else. Expecting them to be bosom buddies in the space of a few minutes was asking a lot, but he kept going.

  “Flick’s treated me like shit.” He sighed. “The bitch doesn’t seem to care who she hurts.”

  “Tell me about it,” Sally sympathized.

  God no, you tell me. “It’s too painful.”

  “Forget about her. Find someone else.”

  “I can’t let her get away with this. She uses people.”

  “You’re right.” Sally nodded.

  “She’s telling people,” Beck lowered his voice and bent toward her ear, thinking he wanted to strangle Kirsten for this idea, “I was hopeless in bed.”

  Sally gasped. “What a cow. Well, she’ll be getting her come-uppance. She embezzled thousands from Grinstead’s. She’ll have to sell her precious house to pay them back.”

  “How did she manage to take the money?” Beck asked. “She’s not that bright.”

  And Sally told him. He tried not to look too interested while inside he fizzed like a firework. He wanted to take his Dictaphone out and hold it to her lips, but instead he 252

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  prayed it recorded what Sally was saying, just as it had recorded what she’d said to Giles.

  After Beck played the tape for him, Gordon had to sit down. By the time Henry and Beck had finished speaking to him, he looked as though he might be sick. When Willow brought Sally up to the house and she saw Gordon’s face, he wasn’t the only one who looked sick.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “You told me you won the lottery,” Henry said to her.

  “You told me your Grandma had died,” Gordon said.

  “She did,” Sally said.

  “And you won the lottery?” Gordon asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So if I check, that’s what I’ll find?” Beck asked.

  Now Sally looked worse than Gordon.

  “You stole the money,” Beck said. “You put some of it in Flick’s account to make it look as though she’d taken all of it. You’ve spent the rest on presents for Gordon and bought yourself an expensive flat.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Sally blustered.

  “It’s over Sally,” Beck said. “I have you on tape saying how it could be done. Grinstead’s couldn’t even figure it out, so how come you’ve never explained it to them seeing as you knew how Flick supposedly did it? She hasn’t got a clue about money and she’s broke. Don’t make things worse. Just tell the truth.”

  Sally looked around in desperation and then her shoulders slumped. “I did it for you, Gordon. It was all for you.”

  He shook his head. “No, Sally, not for me.”

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  Chapter Thirty-Five

  In the end, Josh and Kirsten got a taxi back to Timble. By the time Beck had performed all his duties, and was able to return to the house, it was almost midnight. He went straight upstairs and found Flick lying face down on the bed, fast asleep, but still wearing the nurse’s outfit and the little white hat. He kicked off his shoes, tossed his tie and jacket onto a chair and sat beside her, stroking the back of her leg with a bottle of chilled champagne. She shuddered and rolled onto her back but didn’t open her eyes.

  “I bet I can wake you up,” he said.

  “Don’t bet more than a quid,” she murmured. “I’m exhausted.”

  Beck slid his hand into the top of her dress, down the front of her bra and squeezed her nipple between two fingers.

  “Ooh, that works.” She opened her eyes.

  “I have a huge surprise for you.”

  Flick smiled. “I’ve already seen it. It’s not that huge.”

  Beck laughed. He bent his head and gave her a long kiss. As Flick began to deepen it, he pulled away and looked her in her eyes. He was too excited to wait any longer.

  “Sally’s admitted she took the money from Grinstead’s and put it in your bank account. We have her confession on tape.”

  Flick’s mouth fell open.

  “Don’t tell me I’ve rendered you speechless?” Beck said with a laugh.

  “How did you know about Grinstead’s?”

  “Henry told me, but I wish you had. No more secrets between us. I want everything out in the open.”

  “Okay, I’m the love child of Ozzy Osbourne and Hilary Clinton.”

  “You can keep that one quiet. Want a drink?”

  “I’d rather have a kiss.”

  He bent his head, gently brushing her lips with his. Flick responded by caressing his tongue with hers and moments later they were entwined in each other’s arms, with Beck tasting any place his lips could reach.

  Flick caught hold of his wrists. “Professor Beckett, your health’s going to take a turn for the worse if you don’t get some rest. You’re my patient and I feel responsible for your welfare. I insist you get ready for bed.” Flick rolled him onto his back. “But as you’re clearly incapacitated, I’ll help.”

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  She slowly unfastened the buttons on his shirt and moving the material aside, dropped her mouth to his nipple. Beck groaned. She teased him—tasting, licking, sucking. Beck raised himself up so he could take off the shirt. Flick sat astride his thighs and took his wrist in one hand, her fake watch in the other and pretended to check his pulse.

  “Will I live?” Beck asked.

  “Only if I let you,” Flick said. “Maybe I’ll have to give you an injection.”

  Beck tensed and she smiled.

  “That’s why you made me leave you at the hospital. I thought you said no secrets.”

  “I’m not good with needles.”

  “That’s all right, neither am I.”

  Sliding her body down his legs, Flick moved her hands over his erection. Beck’s groan got trapped in his throat. Her fingers trailed around his waist and stopped to unfasten the button at the top of his trousers.

  “There’s been a very worrying development in your condition,” Flick said in a grave voice. She eased down his zip.

  “You’d better check it out.” Beck found it difficult to speak. Flick pulled off his trousers and socks and came back up the bed to remove his boxers.

  “Oh dear,” she muttered. “Advanced rigor mortis. A huge problem.”

  “Is there nothing you can do?”

  “I suppose I could try some unorthodox remedies.”

  “Such as?”

  “Kissing it better?” Flick suggested.

  “That might work.”

  “There are a few other things I’d like to try first.”

  “Really?” Beck moaned.

  “Umm, I could distract you by talking about urban heat islands. Did you know that the center of a city can be several degrees warmer than the surrounding area?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to work. Nope, look, no effect at all.”

  “How about the importance of dendrochronology?”

  “Stop teasing.”

  He slid his hand under the bottom of her dress and brushed his fingers over her panties. Flick quivered like an erratic bath bomb.

  “I don’t think you’re wearing regulation underwear, Miss Nightingale.”

  “Then I suppose you’d better remove it,” Flick said.

  Beck’s brain told him to do it slowly but his hands paid no attention. Within seconds Flick was naked. He winced and sighed.

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  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was trying to make the pleasure of undressing you last longer than that and I have a feeling that’s not the only thing that isn’t going to last long.”

  “Shall I get dressed again?” Flick said with a glint of mischief in her eye.

  “Not yet. You’ve not cured my problem.”

  She dropped onto the floor at the end of the bed, put her hands under his taut backside and pulled him forward toward he
r mouth, licking the inside of his thighs.

  “Fuck.” He moaned as she ran her tongue around the top of his cock.

  “I’ll stop if you’re not enjoying it.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Beck gasped.

  He looked so handsome, Flick faltered for a moment. His mouth was slightly open and he made shaky noises as he breathed in and out. She dropped her head and ran her tongue up the hard, smooth length of him before she took him in her mouth, pushing down so that his cock pressed against the inside of her cheek. His fingers tightened in her hair.

  “God, Flick,” he groaned.

  Flick sucked hard, then moved her mouth up to his chest and kissed first one nipple and then the other. When she felt them tighten to little buds something tightened in her too. As she lowered her head, his hands slid on to her back. He was even harder now, hotter in her mouth.

  “Flick,” he murmured again. “You have to stop. You’re proved your point. You’re more skilled than me.”

  He pulled her to her feet and stood with her in his arms, holding himself against her so their hip bones pressed together and he was hard between their stomachs.

  “I like it that you’re tall. We’re made for one another,” he whispered. “We fit.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” he said and fell backward on the bed, taking her with him.

  * * * * *

  When Flick opened her eyes, she was so tangled in Beck’s body she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. She’d spent the night in his room. Ahhh. It was now Sunday. Was something happening today? Oh shit. She lifted her head from beside his, peered at the clock and panicked.

  “Oh no. Fuck. Look at the time. Bollocks.” Flick tried to get out of bed and Beck pulled her back.

  “What’s the rush?”

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  “I have to get home. Stef, her boyfriend and his parents are coming for lunch. I have nothing to feed them and the house is a mess. She left a message. I forgot. Bugger.”

  She slid out of Beck’s arms onto the floor and grabbed her pants. He leaned against the headboard and watched her in amusement as she hopped around.

  “What time are they due?”

  “Twelve. One. I can’t remember. Damn it.”

  “I’ll help.”

  Flick stopped for a moment and turned to smile at him. “Will you? That’s kind.”

  “Self-interest. They won’t stay all day, will they?”

  She grinned. “I expect we can invent an emergency if they try to.”

  * * * * *

  They called at supermarket on the way back to the house. The nurse’s outfit caused a few raised eyebrows particularly when Flick pretended Beck was her patient on day release from a mental hospital.

  “If you don’t stop it, I’m not going to pay,” he said.

  “You can’t pay,” Flick protested but Beck insisted.

  He’d piled the cart with all sorts of stuff she would never have bought, including wine that cost more than five pounds a bottle. They loaded the car and set off again.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Flick asked.

  “A brother. Chris. He’s a geologist and works in Scotland.”

  “Perhaps—” Flick began.

  “No,” Beck said in a firm voice. “You don’t want to be a geologist. Anyway, you’re never going to meet him. He’s not married. He’s better looking than me and he’d love you.”

  “Do you ever wish you were an only child?”

  “No. Chris can be a pain but as brothers go, he’s all right.”

  “I wish I didn’t have a sister. To be more precise I wish I didn’t have Stef as a sister.”

  “Why not? What did she do?”

  “Things like deliberately shake the needles off the Christmas tree, then tell Mum I’d done it. She stole stuff and hid it my room, scribbled on my homework, helped herself to my boyfriends and she still nicks my clothes.”

  “I had a dog called Bruno. He could open the fridge and he used to help himself to food. Mum would never believe it wasn’t me or Chris,” Beck said.

  “I bet sometimes it was.” Flick stroked the back of his neck. Beck smiled. “Maybe.”

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  “I thought when Mum and Dad died Stef would need me more, because I needed her more, but it’s all one way. Dad spoiled her and all I’ve done is encourage her to continue to expect to be looked after. And the worse she behaves, the more I try to be nice to her.” Flick sighed. “I just wanted her to love me.”

  “Why do you feel so responsible for her?”

  She hesitated.

  Beck glanced at her. “Tell me.”

  Flick could feel the secret bubbling inside. “No one knows,” she whispered and her fingers gripped her seat belt.

  “I said no more secrets.” Beck pulled off the road.

  “What are you stopping for? We only have an hour before they arrive.”

  He turned off the engine. “This is more important than feeding your sister.”

  Flick thought of what she should have told him before, how so much could have been avoided if she had. Now she had to open her heart.

  “The day they died, they were rushing because of me.” Flick could hardly speak.

  “I’d locked myself out. I rang them and asked them to hurry home because I wanted to get ready to go out. Hurry. I told them. Hurry. And I killed them.” She wiped a tear from her cheek.

  “You didn’t kill your parents, Flick. You know you didn’t.”

  “If I hadn’t rung them, they wouldn’t have been on that road at that time. So it’s my fault Stef lost them.”

  “You lost them, too.”

  He took hold of her chin and turned her face to his.

  “I miss them,” Flick whispered.

  Beck pulled her into his arms and pressed his face into her hair. “You’re not alone anymore.”

  Flick clung to him as if he was the only steadfast thing in a raging flood.

  “I won’t let you go,” Beck said, as though he knew what she was thinking. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay if you don’t like Stef. I told you I didn’t much like her either. But she’s young. One day she might tell you how grateful she is.”

  “I’m not going to hold my breath.”

  “And you’re not going to waste any more of your life worrying about her. You’re not responsible for her. You have better things to do. Making love with me for a start.”

  “We don’t need the whole hour to cook, do we?” she asked. Beck grinned and started the engine. “Yes, but you can thank me later.”

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  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Flick dragged Kirsten and Josh out of bed and in three quarters of an hour they worked a miracle on the house. The windows were opened, fresh flowers stood in every room, the bathroom gleamed and the dining table laid with the best of everything. Josh had even made a sponge cake and filled it with strawberries and cream. Flick stared at it in disgust.

  Beck took charge of the cooking and gave Flick a salad to prepare. She kept casting sneaky looks at him as he worked. He was organized and methodical. He could chop properly.

  “What are you staring at?” Beck asked.

  “You can cook.” She beamed at him.

  “I can do lots of things you’ve yet to discover.”

  Flick tasted the dressing she’d made for the pear and nut salad and coughed. Hot, hot, hot. She reached for the cold tap.

  “What is it?” Beck asked.

  “Bit spicy.” She panted.

  “It’s not supposed to be. What did you do to it?”

  “I thought I’d add—”

  “Flick, throw the dressing away and follow the recipe.”

  “Maybe I could add sugar.”

  “Fine and then we’ll throw it away.”

  It didn’t go unnoticed by Flick that she had produced one item while the
others, including Kirsten who had spent much of the time cleaning, had covered the work surfaces with bowls of interesting-looking food. Beck had salmon steaks marinating, chicken cooking and hors d’oeuvres sitting on a tray, ready to be heated. A bowl of tiger shrimp waited in the fridge and he’d made a tomato and horseradish dip and a fresh fruit salad. Flick was in awe.

  At ten to twelve Josh and Kirsten went off to have lunch with her parents and Flick bolted upstairs to get changed.

  Beck cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. There was a lovely view out of the window. The garden seemed endless because it looked out onto open fields and down toward the reservoir. He could live here. He needed to persuade Flick to take the place off the market. From his home in York Beck had a view of a concrete yard. He’d tried to brighten it up with a few potted plants but this vista made him realize what 259

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  he’d been missing. He turned as Flick walked into the room, his breath caught in his throat and he knew what else he’d been missing.

  “Come here,” he said and held out his arms.

  She wore a dark blue sundress that looked suspiciously restrained, and when she moved into his arms Beck realized it had no back. His fingers slipped down her bare skin.

  “Thanks for doing all this,” she said.

  “Thank me properly later. They’ve just arrived.”

  * * * * *

  “Why is the house on the market?” Stef demanded as she strode into the hall.

  “It’s too big for me. I doubt you’ll ever come back and Kirsten and Josh will be getting their own place soon.” Flick was trying to get Stef to introduce her to Drew and his parents but Stef ignored her eye signals.

  “You should have asked me. It’s half my house.”

  Beck squeezed Flick’s hand and she bit back the response on her lips. Drew’s parents, Nancy and Donald Westinghouse, were kind and friendly. They’d bought chilled champagne and Flick wondered if Stef would announce her “great news” before they drank but she didn’t. Drew clearly worshipped the ground Stef walked on and Flick was glad to see that Stef was kind to him. Flick was on her best behavior. She didn’t say much. She listened. Nancy and Donald had more money than they knew what to do with. They had homes all over the place. They took cruises and went skiing and loved Europe. Drew would work for his father’s company once he’d finished at Cambridge. Flick uttered a silent prayer Stef didn’t mess this up.