Sins of the Father

by Melissa Barker-Simpson

  Alicia snickered at the old man comment. “Okay, I can do that. But do me a favour, call the police before you phone Greg because I want a few minutes before he arrives.”

  “Deal.”

  She threw him a smile as she hurried towards the bathroom.

  Sarah rang before she’d even set the shower running; grateful for hands-free she flipped the switch. “Wow, you either do know everything, or this is just weird timing.” She had to raise her voice above the noise of the water.

  “I dropped by to see you. I’m in your trailer and you’re not here so...”

  “Do me a favour and come over to Stu’s office. I’m just grabbing a shower...don’t ask, just get here and he’ll fill you in.” Relax, nothing’s going to happen.

  “Okay, I’m on my way.”

  Alicia ended the call and stepped out of her clothes. There wouldn’t be time to linger now but she needed to wash away some of the tension.

  The heat from the water did its job; she had almost four full minutes before Sarah came bounding into the room. She could tell it was Sarah, from her scent and her energy.

  “Before you start ranting, do me a favour and pass me that towel.” Alicia peered around the curtain and tried not to smile at the outrage on Sarah’s face. Her red curls were tied back into a loose bun, her green eyes turned impatient when they met hers.

  “How can you be so calm? Someone wants to hurt you, Al. Didn’t I tell you that there was something different about that last letter.” She passed the towel, but didn’t immediately let it go.

  “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “How can you forget someone threatening your life?”

  “I suppose the only thing on my mind at the moment is the note. When I think about it, think about how someone tried to hurt Jack, I see red. The police should be on their way so we’ll deal with it.” She stepped out of the cubicle and wrapped the towel around her before taking one of Sarah’s hands. “Whatever plan of action we take on this, I’ll follow your lead. You have my cooperation.”

  “If I didn’t love you so much I’d strangle you right now.” Sarah softened the words with a smile. “It’s not about following orders, Al. It’s about protecting yourself. I know you’re angry about Jack, but what about you? You have to take this seriously.”

  “I am. I will. As soon as I get dressed...” She stared open-mouthed at the bag Sarah was holding up. “You brought a change of clothes? Christ, what did you do? Teleport over here?”

  The exaggerated sigh of response was something Sarah had down to an art form. “I knew something was wrong, so I grabbed these in case you hadn’t. It’s not as though I had to go far, your bedroom is the size of a postage stamp.”

  “You’re my best friend, and I love you. But how lucky am I that you also happen to be the best personal assistant in the world?” Alicia dodged a poke heading for her ribs as they walked through to the other room.

  “Pretty lucky, though you might not feel that way when you hear Dad’s on his way.” Sarah’s smile turned sly as she continued towards the door. “Get dressed. I noticed Stuart raiding one of the cabinets on my way in. I get the feeling it’s where he keeps his stash.”

  “He doesn’t like to share his bourbon,” Alicia shouted after her. The sound of Sarah’s snort of laughter brought a giggle to her lips. Stuart was no match for either Munroe; he would soon be entertaining both.

  Chapter 3

  “Is this the first threat you’ve received?”

  Alicia looked at the young officer and swallowed a groan. He was looking at her as though he expected her to start screaming a list of demands – those befitting a true prima donna. The truth didn’t matter, most people believed what they read without giving her a chance. His name was Jones, and so far, he had done most of the talking.

  He was accompanied by Detective Potts, the strong, silent one who kept his expression purposely blank. She gave him extra points for not being intimidated by Greg’s presence. It took control to appear completely unfazed by Greg Munroe.

  “I received this last month.” She handed the single-sided sheet to Detective Jones and gave him a minute to scan its contents. “It’s the first serious threat I’ve received. There are fans that confuse me with a character or believe what they’ve read in a magazine and get a little vocal. But it doesn’t go beyond that.”

  Stuart cleared his throat. “There was that one time…” He looked at Alicia before continuing. “It’s a few years ago, but at the time it set off all kinds of alarm bells. The sender knew things – personal things that haven’t been in the press.”

  She’d started to remember as soon as he spoke. Now she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. Both officers focused in on her.

  “I don’t suppose you have a copy?”

  She looked at Potts. It was his first direct question. “I’m sure Sarah kept it on file. It was a long time ago.”

  “We’ll need to see it. Is there any possibility it’s the same person?”

  Alicia tried not to be irritated by his tone. She hadn’t withheld the information purposely.

  “I doubt it. It certainly had nothing to do with Jack.”

  “Let me get you a copy on screen,” Sarah said, plucking a laptop from the air. A few taps and clicks later she was handing it over to Detective Potts. “I keep an electronic copy of everything.”

  Detective Jones leant forward a little, as though his voice would affect his partner’s ability to read. “I don’t think we can assume anything. Mr Murphy’s accident has been all over the news so the note could be a clever ploy to scare you.”

  Alicia looked at him in disbelief. “I think it worked, don’t you? ‘You’re next’, after I’ve spent the best part of twenty-four hours in the hospital.”

  “I understand how you feel, Miss Gladstone.”

  “With all due respect, Detective, you have no idea how I feel. Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life, akin to a day very much like it four years ago. That one didn’t have a happy ending.”

  Greg reached out to take her hand in his before addressing Detective Jones. “Young man, you must understand the significance of all this. We lost Gray Jackson and Eric Sutherland in a car accident, which echoed what almost happened yesterday. If that was intentional, Alicia’s life could be in danger.”

  “I’d say that Miss Gladstone is almost certainly at risk. I’m not an expert, but the letters seem like the delusions of one person,” Detective Potts commented, passing the laptop to Jones. “But whether or not Mr Murphy’s accident was an attempt on his life remains to be seen. You can rest assured we will be looking into it.”

  “Do you know the expression ‘children pay for the sins of their father’? Well, in your case, you’ll be paying for the sins of your mother.”

  They all turned to Detective Jones. It wasn’t clear if he was even aware he’d been reading aloud. He looked up, a little surprised to have the floor.

  “There’s classic transference here. The author switches between pronouns continuously.”

  Greg nodded his agreement. It was something he’d picked up on too. “The main thing we were concerned about, at the time, was the accurate description of Alicia’s mother. We managed to keep any reference to Helen Fairfax from the press, though there are various blog sites who’ve worked out the connection - the die-hard fans of film who know their stuff.”

  Alicia let out a breath, more tired than she cared to admit. “My mother gave me up when I was a child. I have very little recollection of her, but the person who sent the letter appears to know her pretty well.”

  Detective Potts made a few notes as she spoke. “Can you email me a copy of the letter?” His eyes went from Alicia to Sarah and back again.

  Sarah reached for the laptop so that she could access her mail account. “Type your address in there,” she said, swinging it back to him with a smile.

  “Thanks.” Potts threw a look to his partner as Sarah did the honours.

  “That’s about it
for now. We’d like to speak to the residential security team and crew members who have access to this part of the lot.”

  “Of course, I phoned ahead and spoke to Abe Donovan. Abe runs the show. He’s expecting us.” Stuart scooped up his pass from underneath a pile of papers on his desk. “We carry identification at all times. The odd fan or members of the press occasionally try their luck, as you can imagine, but this is the first serious security breach. Certainly the first time anyone got so close to Alicia.”

  You can’t be everywhere at once. “It’s not your fault, Stu.”

  Greg swung his arm around her. “She’s right. You aren’t responsible for everything that happens. We’ll get to the bottom of this and until then we increase security.”

  Detective Potts nodded his approval. “I think any extra precautions you take are important right now.” He held out his hand to Alicia. “Thanks for your time, Miss Gladstone. We’ll be in touch.”

  “Thank you, Detectives.”

  She watched as Stuart led them out, knowing he would wait until they were out of earshot to start firing questions at them.

  “Well, that was pretty painless,” she said, laying her head on Sarah’s shoulder. “Maybe I can grab an hour before I go back to the hospital.”

  “I’ll wait for you. I want to check on Jack anyway.” The tone of Greg’s voice cut off the protest on her lips.

  “I don’t suppose I’m going anywhere alone for a few days.” She pulled a face.

  “Enjoy it while you can.” Sarah nudged Alicia’s head away from her shoulder so she could pull them both up. “There’s no way you can deter Stuart from a bodyguard now.”

  “How about you play bodyguard,” Alicia said, prodding her in the ribs for looking so smug.

  Greg swung his arms around them. “You could always find a part for me in the movie. That way I can keep an eye on both my girls.”

  “As great as that would be - go find your own job.” Alicia laughed when he hung his head in rejection and turned his appealing eyes towards her; eyes as green as his daughters.

  “Aw, come on, you’re not playing fair.”

  He grinned at her, using the full power of his formidable charm. There were women all over the country who would bow at his feet if he turned that look on them. With his dark brown hair, greying slightly at the temples, those expressive eyes and Scottish brogue, he was hard to resist.

  “Stop it, you know you can come by anytime.”

  Greg and Sarah laughed heartily at how easily she caved; they had both used their powers of persuasion in the past. It worked every time. Alicia tried to be annoyed as they left Stuart’s office arm in arm, but she wasn’t fooling anybody.

  The trio were so absorbed in each other that they didn’t notice they were being watched.

  Chapter 4

  Brad Morgan loosened his grip a little, relaxing the hand around Chris Riley’s throat. He watched as oxygen returned to the weasel’s brain, so that his eyes came into focus. Chris Riley had features that fit his personality – slimy and unpleasant to look at.

  “The lady quite clearly told you to leave,” he said, his voice quietly threatening.

  “You can’t stop me from seeing my own damn wife.” The sound that came out of Chris’s throat was a high-pitched whine. There was no conviction in it.

  Brad narrowed his eyes and worked on his control – what he wanted to do was wipe the floor with the wife-beating piece of shit.

  Imogen Downes, who stood guarding the entrance to Ashbury House like a restless warrior, felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She felt no sympathy for Chris Riley; she’d searched for a shred but came up empty. From his perspective, or at least from his current position, Brad had to look like a giant oak – tall, broad-shouldered and immobile. At 6ft 4, he towered over Chris, but it was his quiet confidence that intimidated.

  “Let’s start with what I can do,” Brad said in that quiet, authoritative tone Imogen knew well. “I can hurt you – a lot. That’s exactly what’s going to happen if you come back here uninvited.” He turned to Imogen. “Do you think he’s going to get an invite anytime soon?”

  She smiled without humour. “Not in this lifetime.”

  “I’m a personal friend of Miss Downes, and any friend of hers…well you get the drift. Your wife has no desire to see you, so if I find out you’ve been bothering my friends again, I won’t be this polite.”

  “You have your fucking hand around my throat,” Chris choked out, squirming without much effort.

  “Exactly. So we understand each other.” Brad dropped his arm and took a step back. He was watching Chris’s reactions carefully, but the man had the backbone of a slug – non-existent.

  Chris backed away, his eyes darting from Brad to Imogen with open distrust. “You won’t get away with this,” he said, hurrying a little in case the big guy decided to go postal again.

  Imogen stepped forward – her body still blocking the doorway. “We have the law on our side. You’re not welcome here, Mr Riley. Please don’t come back.”

  “You heard my friend,” Brad said, pinning Chris down with a cold stare.

  They watched as he retreated to the car he’d hastily abandoned. The screech of rubber against tarmac was the only retaliation he was able to make, and considering it was in retreat it said a lot about his character.

  Imogen let go of all the tension she’d been carrying on a breath. “Thanks for coming, Bradley.”

  “Don’t mention it. JJ got caught up or he would’ve been here himself.” Jonathan Jukes was a member of Brad’s team and in regular contact with Ashbury House. He had a history with the place, so Brad knew it was important to lend a hand when he could.

  “We can handle it from here. Give my regards to Jon.”

  Brad inclined his head, affirming her request. He understood that she worked with vulnerable women and children, so she had no time to socialise – he didn’t doubt her gratitude. “Be safe, Imogen. We’re only a phone call away. My team are at your disposal.”

  She turned back to him with a smile that said everything for her. “Stay cool, Bradley.”

  Imogen caught only a glimpse of his responding grin as she turned back and entered the house.

  Forty minutes later, Brad was pulling up outside his own safe haven, Duke House. He co-owned a Personal Protection and Security company with his brother in arms, Kelvin Fairchild. Duke House had been their base of operations for over twelve months. Their team occasionally partnered with another agency, run by an ex-military policeman, Abe Donovan. Brad was running late for a meeting, which Abe had requested personally. Something told him they were about to join forces again.

  “Nice of you to show up, big man,” Kelvin said from his spot around the conference table. The room was laid out command centre style, with screens blinking in the background and desks displayed in neat rows. The table stood front and centre so they had easy access to the data.

  Brad surveyed the small group; his eyes coming to rest on a graceful looking woman, with intense green eyes and masses of curly red hair. His interest piqued immediately.

  “Something came up - I got here as soon as I could.”

  “That’s not much of an apology, Mr Morgan,” the redhead said, mild irritation lighting her features.

  Abe stood, immediately defusing the tension. “Brad, this is Sarah Munroe. We were just making introductions so you didn’t miss anything.”

  Brad looked across at Susannah, the other member of Morgan and Fairchild. She was the glue that kept them together. The imperceptible change in his expression spoke of his gratitude for stalling the meeting.

  “My apologies that you had to wait,” he said, his eyes on their guest. “The delay really was unavoidable.”

  “We would have started without you, despite the oracle’s efforts…” Abe paused to wink at Susannah, appreciating her rich laughter. The oracle was a private joke. “But we need all hands on deck, so to speak. Take a seat, Brad, and I’ll fill you in.”
<
br />   Brad complied, despite the mild irritation at being told what to do in his own office.

  “As you know, I have a contract with Lundwood Studios. I have several teams following the expansion, which makes it the biggest residential security gig we cover.” He passed each of them a map, colour co-ordinated to indicate each different zone. “There are six patrolled areas, each requiring different levels of identification and clearance. The first zone holds the smaller productions stages, most of which are used for television broadcasting. The public are permitted into this area for tour purposes or when audiences are bused in for shows.”

  “Is the activity limited to zone one?” Brad asked, taking in the extent of land belonging to Lundwood.

  “As a walk-on visitor, yes. There are buses that take in zones two and three as part of the tour, but strict protocols are in operation. As you can see, zones four and five make up the business district and larger stages respectively.”

  Kelvin was impressed with the detail on Abe’s plan. “What’s in zone six?”

  “That’s under development. It’s a major project by Lundwood to provide residential housing and a conservation project.” Abe looked across at Sarah and gave her a reassuring smile. “As I’m sure you’ve observed on the news, Jack Murphy was involved in a car accident two days ago. What wasn’t in the news is the fact that it was an attempt on his life.”

  “He was due to start filming at the studios,” Susannah said, almost to herself.

  “That’s right. His co-star, Alicia Gladstone, received a threat yesterday. We feel that her life is now in danger.”

  Brad felt a cold chill run through his body at the name. He caught the look from Kelvin and understood that he had to curb his reaction. “In what way was she threatened?”

  “Someone broke into her trailer and left a note.” Kelvin handed him a copy of the postcard. “She received a letter two weeks ago that appears to be connected.”

  So that’s why he’s on edge. “You said trailer. I thought the studio had accommodation on-site?” Brad was starting to understand what it felt like to have his past come back to haunt him.