by Graham, Jan
“It’s not going to stop us trying though.” Christian watched the smile spread across Daniel’s face. The “hell no” response Daniel gave him confirmed his brother’s determination.
Christian realised Daniel was convinced that the woman they had met last night would be the woman of their dreams. Christian, on the other hand, although confident in the attraction between the three of them, wasn’t sure if they were being a bit presumptuous about the certainty of it all. Christian restrained the urge to laugh out loud. He was generally the brother who jumped into a situation headfirst, while Daniel was always more reserved. He decided to take the reversal of personality traits as an omen that maybe everything would work out with Cinders.
After stopping at some of the local decorating and hardware stores, Daniel and Christian arrived home with everything they needed to plan the perfect room. Their house was a fully renovated, five-bedroom, colonial-style home built in the s. Some of the original features had been kept, especially the exterior ones. The wide veranda encapsulated all sides of the house. There were high railings bordering the regal-looking front stairs leading to the picturesque double front doors. Inside, the high ceilings with ornate plaster trims indicated the era of the home, but modern practicality had seen the interior design change dramatically. The brothers had altered the inside to reflect their love of entertaining and open space. The kitchen, living room, and dining area were now all one large open area with room division uniquely acquired by the use of clever furnishings and design.
The kitchen was divided from the other space with a large functional island. Preparation areas for food faced the living area but were concealed via a breakfast bar at the front of it. The dining area was adjacent to the kitchen and backed onto a large outdoor deck with outward opening French doors. The three main bedrooms sat on the other side of the dining area. So the doorways didn’t open directly into the living area, a floating wall had been erected, forming an open-ended hallway leading to the bedrooms. The remaining two bedrooms were located on the other side of the house. The smaller of the two was a study area. Even though all bedrooms had their own bathroom, the study’s bathroom had been blocked off to give more wall space, and a doorway to the bathroom was now located in the main living area. The fifth room’s doorway was level with the kitchen island, and most of the visitors to the home assumed it was a pantry or laundry. However, friends within the Kink community knew it had been turned into an impressive dungeon space.
When his brother walked into the spare bedroom carrying the patch swatches, Christian assumed he was keen to get started on the renovation. Christian smiled at the thought of their woman residing with them. Both he and Daniel were determined that the room should reflect what they knew about her and, more importantly, what they felt for her. It had been a long time since someone had occupied this room. Of course they had repainted and refurnished it after their last sub had moved out, but that was merely a need to eradicate her presence from their lives. Now it was time to prepare the room for another submissive, and it needed to be as perfect as she was. Christian wanted it to reflect the light of her laughter and the sensuality of her body, and he wanted it to be just as entrancing as her eyes.
“Do you think the floors need to be repolished?” he asked as he walked into the room carrying his laptop.
“No, I think they are fine. The room really hasn’t had that much use.” Daniel had laid out the colour charts on the bed. “I’d like new furniture though, not that shabby chic shit, but some kind of white stain, I think.”
“Well, see what you think of this.” Christian held up the laptop for Daniel to view the bedding set he had found. “The designer is an artist but also makes unique designs in bedding. It was exactly what I was thinking of in the car.”
“It’s perfect.” Daniel smiled, reaching for a deep burgundy paint sample. “It will look stunning with this as a feature wall. The variation in colours of that design will be easy to blend with the wall colour. Let’s buy it.”
“Already have bought it. I was just showing you as a courtesy.” Christian laughed as he closed the computer. “It should arrive via express delivery within three days. So, let’s strip the room and start with a blank canvas.”
“Agreed,” Daniel responded. “We need to do this as quickly as humanly possible in case Max rings us with a date for the intro. I want her room ready for our next meeting.”
Chapter Four
Steve wasn’t looking forward to this visit. When Samuel had died, he had really rubbed Angel the wrong way. He had to admit. He’d been a pig when he initially interviewed her. He had no idea why she was living with Barnard when she could have just left, and women like her annoyed him. He had let it show during his interviews with her, something he now regretted. He especially regretted it today, now that he had to try and get her to turn against one of the biggest crime bosses in the state. The same man who had visited her last night, made vague threats against her, and then fucked her brains out. Steve had no idea how Angel would respond.
He had listened to the tape, so he knew exactly what Adrian Hastings had done during the visit. He wondered, though, if Angel knew exactly how dangerous and untrustworthy Hastings was. After all, maybe a good boning had her trusting everything he said. The man was dangerous, and this was the first time they actually had him on tape possibly confessing to a murder and certainly making threats of harm. Yes, the threats had been vague as had the confession, but they were nevertheless threats against Angel’s life, and they had to be taken seriously. If Hastings decided Angel had lied, there would be no convincing him otherwise. From all the investigations and surveillance Steve had worked on, he knew Hastings could become irrationally paranoid at times. More than one innocent person had disappeared because Hastings believed they had turned on him. If Adrian Hastings thought Angel had become a threat to him, he would order a hit and that would be the end of her. It would also be unlikely that Hastings would leave evidence connecting him to the hit. Angel really needed to understand exactly what last night’s little rendezvous meant in terms of the danger she was in.
Steve had the dubious task of finding out if Angel knew anything that might back up Hastings’s supposed confession to the murder of Samuel Barnard. It was late morning by the time he knocked on the door. The surveillance team had assured him she was inside. He knocked a second time. Still no answer. His head was pounding from too much alcohol and lack of sleep. His fist pounded into the wooden frame again, this time with a result.
“Hello, Angel, remember me?” He smiled as she stared at him through the screen door.
“Sure, you’re my favourite cop,” Angel said dryly as she opened the door. “You look like you need a coffee as much as I do, so you better come in.”
Steve was surprised by Angel’s response. She looked tired, her eyes had dark circles underneath them, and her skin was even paler than he remembered. She was wearing a black dress with a tulle petticoat peeking out from underneath, and the top few buttons of the bodice were undone, exposing the lace bra she wore. If the dress wasn’t so crumpled, he would have assumed she was getting ready to go out. He watched Angel walk into the kitchen, buttoning the dress as she went. She seemed deflated, which surprised him. Angel was usually confidently fiery when she dealt with the police, especially if it was Steve questioning her. Maybe she wasn’t that thrilled with the fucking she had experienced a few hours ago, although from what Steve had listened to, she certainly sounded like she loved it.
Steve had expected the main problem he’d face this morning would be getting in the door. Now it seemed it would be camouflaging the hangover he was harbouring and actually conducting an effective interview.
“You can sit down on the lounge if you like,” Angel called from the kitchen. “By the way, how do you take it?
“Black and five.” Steve certainly did not expect her to serve him coffee. “The five is sugar, you know, in case you have arsenic or something out there.” He didn’t hear her laughing as he t
ook a seat on her sofa. Maybe she didn’t have a sense of humour, or maybe she was changing the arsenic for some other fatal powder.
“If I wanted to kill you, Detective, I would use something from here rather than arsenic.” Angel returned with a mug of coffee in one hand and a duffle bag in the other. “Happy birthday,” she said as she placed the coffee on the side table and the bag at his feet. “Don’t open it yet.” She pointed at the bag.
“You don’t have to be so formal, Angel. You can call me Steve. I like to be on a first-name basis with people who could be a threat to me.” Steve watched Angel return to the kitchen and come back with her own coffee and a pair of disposable latex gloves. She threw the gloves into his lap and sat down next to him on the sofa.
“I’m not a threat to you, Steve.” She smiled. “If anything, the reverse is true.”
Steve picked up the gloves, struck by the thought that Angel could regard him as a threat. Most people trusted the police and she had no reason to consider him a threat. Well, no reason that he could think of. He proceeded to put on the gloves and unzipped the bag.
“Jesus Christ, Angel, where the fuck did you get all this?” Steve began to look at the arsenal before him. “Are any of these loaded?” In astonishment, he looked at Angel, who merely stared back at him and shrugged.
Steve assumed the shrug meant Angel had no idea if they were loaded or not, hell, she probably didn’t even know how to check. After all, the only thing someone like Angel would probably know about guns would be that she didn’t like them. Steve felt her gaze upon him as he looked at the contents of the bags pockets. Cell phones, SIM cards, some pills, about eight ounces of pot, and a USB drive. He inspected them all with precision. He attempted to keep his expression stern as he placed each item on the coffee table in front of him. He didn’t want to give Angel any indication how shocked he was at the items she had produced. Steve sifted through the weapons, checking them thoroughly, removing bullets from the guns as he did.
“I’ve been cleaning,” Angel said softly. “I thought you might be able to get some DNA or something to solve a few crimes.”
“Thank you.” Steve couldn’t believe what he was looking at and really had no idea what the appropriate response should be.
“There’s a tax invoice in the bag as well. I think it might be for a lockup that Samuel had. I don’t know what you’ll find in there,” Angel said weakly.
Steve rummaged through the bag and pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper. He took out his mobile phone and dialled his boss. Steve gave the details needed and hung up. He watched as Angel walked into the kitchen, returning with a plate of cracker biscuits.
“Is that the same storage facility information you gave to Adrian Hastings early this morning?” Steve watched the look of shock and confusion fill Angel’s face.
“How do you know Adrian was here?” Angel’s hands trembled as she sipped her coffee. Steve hoped she assumed the police had Adrian under surveillance and that they followed him to her house last night.
“Just answer the question, Angel. I can’t explain how we know.” Steve knew he couldn’t mention the surveillance of the house. It had taken so long to get the residence bugged in the first place, and finally, it had paid off. He couldn’t risk her insisting they remove it. Particularly if Hastings had a taste of something that he might come back for.
“I told Adrian about the storage facility, yes. But he doesn’t know the address.” Angel sighed. She appeared tired, like she was struggling to find the answers to Steve’s questions. “I have to text him the address, so you better get there first. I’ll send the address to him when you have finished doing your cop stuff with it.”
“You told him there were receipts in the garbage he took. He has the address, Angel, and he would have found the receipts by now.” Steve was annoyed. If she intended to give the police the address, why tell Hastings about it.
“I lied. There is only one receipt, and you have it. You have the address, not him. I had intended to ring the station on Monday and ask to see you. But you called in this morning for a nice social chat and saved me the trouble.” Steve heard Angel take a sip of her coffee. Even the slightest noise echoed loudly in his head. He was leant forward and rubbed his temples.
“Is it a hangover, or have you been working hard?” she asked. He heard another sip.
“Both.” Steve’s head was pounding, and everything going so well was making him nervous. Angel was definitely an observant woman. Most civilians wouldn’t even notice if the cop talking to them had a headache. He knew Angel didn’t particularly like him. In fact, she had asked to speak to Markham instead of Steve the first time he had interviewed her regarding Samuel’s death, stating that Markham was less intimidating than Steve. Maybe the request had added to Steve’s bad attitude during that initial interview.
“So what else did you want to know about my visit from Adrian?” Angel picked up a cracker and started to eat it.
“I want to know everything, Angel. What was in the parcel the courier came to pick up yesterday afternoon?” Steve was going to ask anything and everything if she was in a mood to talk. “Where is the ledger he wants? What movies does he have of you? How did you get mixed up in all this and why did you stay with that creep, Barnard? Why did you fuck Hastings? And why the fuck didn’t you call me and tell me all this was going on with Hastings weeks ago?”
Angel took a deep breath. She had woken up not long before Steve had knocked on her door. She hadn’t had time to prepare for this. Angel knew that answers were needed, but there was something more important on her mind. She had woken up with one thing firmly planted in her thoughts. Adrian was going to kill her. She assumed last night and his conversation about fucking her every day was all smoke and mirrors, a way to get her to relax a little and trust him. Adrian would then be able to eradicate her in case she knew more than she should. Even though Steve’s visit this morning was a surprise, Angel knew it was also an opportunity. She could use the visit to possibly get some help and hopefully avoid the inevitable. Angel was going to tell Steve everything she knew, which admittedly wasn’t much.
“The information that I sent to Adrian is on the USB drive. I scanned it before Adrian sent someone to collect it. I don’t know where the ledger is. I didn’t find it when I was cleaning.” Angel took a sip of coffee. “I didn’t come to you earlier because I really don’t know anything, and I thought if I gave Adrian the information he wanted, he would leave me alone.”
“You missed some answers, or are you ignoring the questions intentionally?” Steve was too annoying for words. He obviously had no idea how difficult this was for her. Angel could feel him watching her as she walked out into the back of the house and returned with a manila folder.
“Enjoy,” Angel said, handing him the folder.
As Steve looked through the contents, he appeared uneasy. Angel knew the pictures were shocking. He would only assume what could be on the DVDs. Angel held her breath when she realised his attention was fixed on the legally binding debtor’s agreement.
“Who is Skinner Jones?” Steve’s gaze conveyed true concern.
“He was the man I lived with before moving in with Samuel.” Angel’s eyes began to moisten with tears. “As it turned out, Skinner loved drugs more than me. And he had a very determined sense of self-preservation. ”
Steve didn’t say a word as he closed the folder. Mercifully, his phone rang and saved the day. Angel wiped her moistened eyes and continued to sip at her coffee. He ended the call quickly but Angel assumed from the conversation the police had arrived at the lockup and were currently working their way through its inventory. Angel heard Steve assure the caller Hastings had no idea where the lockup was at this point in time. And he mentioned securing the ledger if they found it. He placed his cell on the coffee table and picked up his coffee.
“Well.” Steve stared at Angel. “More answers still required.”
“I don’t think the other questions are relevant.” Angel
was starting to feel nervous. Maybe she shouldn’t be telling him anything. Adrian had police in his pocket. Maybe Steve worked for him and this was all a setup. She sat gazing into her coffee, deciding if she needed to vomit.
“Let me decide if it’s relevant. I want to know why you didn’t ever leave Samuel.” Angel bit at her bottom lip. Not only was Steve a pain in the arse, but he was a nosey one.
Steve observed Angel’s hand move up to her neck. She seemed like she was miles away in thought, her fingers circling a scar at the base of her throat. Steve had asked the question out of interest rather than a need-to-know fact for the current case. Now that Angel was touching that scar he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer.
“I did try to leave, but that turned out to be a difficult thing to do. Samuel was very possessive of what he owned. He threatened people I knew and threatened me, so I stayed. Besides, I had no where to go. I have no family and very few friends.” Angel glanced back at Steve. “What was the other question?”
“I’m not convinced by the answer. I think there’s more to it.” Steve was trying to figure her out.
At this point she was an enigma. She had thrown him out of her house on his last visit, and now he was drinking coffee with her. She had sent information to Hastings and fucked him then given Steve an arsenal of weapons and information that may lead to the solving of some very serious crimes. Steve had no idea how to take her. She seemed nice, but then he didn’t know why a nice person would be in such a desperate situation. She didn’t make sense, and he needed for her to make sense. He needed to know whose side she was on.
“Why did you fuck Hastings?”
“I’m a slut.” Angel blushed, and tried to avoid Steve’s stare.
“Why did you fuck Hastings? And don’t give me glib answers like ‘I’m a slut’.” Without realising what he was doing, Steve had grabbed her face and forced her to make eye contact. “Tell me the truth. Why fuck him?”
