***
Two hours later Allegra sat in the passenger seat of her turbo-charged Volkswagen Golf, glad it wasn’t a work day. She stared blankly at the passing landscape as Luke took the M5 and headed south-west.
The mess in the apartment had been put right, and Tom had arrived, armed with an impressive array of computers, modems and assorted ‘techie’ equipment.
The AMG had been towed away to be fitted with four new tyres.
“Did you speak to my neighbours?”
As soon as she’d felt up to it, Luke had insisted she pack an overnight bag and then requested her car keys. He’d barely been off the telephone, issuing instructions to Nat and arranging for Tom to stay over until the door was repaired.
“Yes. They’ve been made aware Tom’s keeping an eye on things.”
Allegra sighed. “They’re probably terrified, the poor old things.”
Luke changed lanes and for a few seconds their eyes met. “I think we can safely cross them off our list of suspects,” he said with a grim smile. “I assured them the person was only a threat to you, that it was probably a disgruntled client.”
“Did they accept that?” She turned around and checked on Astro. The little dog was on the rear seat, standing on his hind legs, his nose stuck out the window.
“Seemed to.”
“What’s going on?” she asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “What’s Nat doing and where are we going?”
Luke sighed. “Okay, one thing at a time. We’re sure it’s the same guy. Sometimes he wears a cap, other times a hoodie, and now a balaclava. He’s been to your apartment on at least three or four occasions.”
He took one hand off the wheel and counted them off with his fingers. “The night in the garage, the time he cut the power, and last night he was pretty much there on and off all night. I’m not sure whether the guy you saw on the bike, who I assume delivered the newspaper, was him or not. It just doesn’t fit in with the other sightings. I think that’s more likely to be connected to Mulvaney and the shooting.”
He indicated and changed lanes again, overtaking a learner driver. “He must have been watching, because he destroyed the camera out front. The one I put on the balcony is intact, although it only got the top of his head. But the one out back recorded images of him slashing my tyres not long after we came home last night.”
He turned his head at her sharp intake of breath, and she caught the worry in his eyes. He was trying to protect her, concerned about the awful scare she’d had this morning.
“Is his face visible?” She wanted to identify the arsehole, wanted him locked up.
Luke shook his head. “He was wearing the cap earlier in the night. Tom’s trying to enhance the shots, and we’ll combine them with the mock ups, let you take a look at them later this afternoon.”
Allegra felt her skin crawl again.
“I checked out that house across the road. There’s a hole in the fence and a pile of wooden off cuts in the dumpster, like the one he used to break the door.”
Allegra shook her head and stared blindly through the windscreen. “Who the hell is he?”
“We ran the plates on the Corolla. It belongs to a woman who owns a boarding house in Darlinghurst. Nat’s on her way there now.”
“A boarding house? Inmates released on parole often stay in boarding houses.”
“I know.”
Allegra bit her lip. Maybe the whole unsavoury thing was linked to work. If that were the case, how they’d managed to get hold of Chris’ photographs was anyone’s guess.
“To answer your next question, we’re going to my place.”
She blinked in surprise. “We are?”
“Yep.”
“Where do you live? We’re leaving the city behind.”
“Bowral.”
“Bowral,” she repeated, thinking of the quaint village an hour’s drive from the outskirts of Sydney. .
He glanced at her, amusement lighting his eyes… “We’ll be back in the city tomorrow evening in time for work on Monday. What’s so strange about the Southern Highlands?”
Desperate to cheer him up and take his mind off the responsibility weighing him down, Allegra shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with God’s waiting room.”
His sudden shout of laughter sent her spirits soaring and only served to encourage her. “It’s very garden-oriented. I imagined you living in a modern, high rise city apartment—with a gym.”
He grinned at her oblique reference to his physique. “I have a small apartment near the office where I stay during the week. On weekends, I like to get out of the city.”
“Do you like tulips?”
“I like space, and I need it. You’ll see when you get there. You shouldn’t make assumptions.”
She smiled back, secretly thrilled she was about to see his more private side. Bowral was barely an hour and a half south west of the city. It would be nice to spend the weekend there.
“Nor should you, Commander.”
***
The man sat on the edge of the single bed and looked around the dreary room, thinking of the balaclava hidden at the back of the wardrobe. There’s no way she would have recognised him. She’d only seen him for a split second before he’d shattered the door—along with their weekend plans.
He snarled, wondering again what lame story she’d spun her lover for not wanting to call the police. He bet his life she wouldn’t have confessed about the photographs. With a bit of luck they would have had an almighty row and he’d shot through, leaving her alone.
The man rose, pulled back the covers and made sure the disk containing the photographs was still tucked between the mattress and the bed clothes. Her name written on the disk in permanent marker.
Allegra.
He hadn’t been able to resist taking it, looking at the images over and over, unable to believe what he’d discovered.
Allegra Greenwood.
The angel he’d been worshipping from afar wasn’t who he imagined her to be. And her indifference to him took on a whole new meaning.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the Swiss Army Knife and turned it over in his hands, wondering again about the person behind the lens. Had the Englishman been her lover, or had she paid him to do it?
Grinding his teeth, he closed the knife with a snap.
On Monday he’d print off two hard copies and courier them to Grace and Poole.
Then he’d lure her into his trap.
Her time had well and truly come.
Chapter Thirteen
Allegra opened her eyes and stared at the cream damask curtains drawn across the floor to ceiling windows. The bed was unfamiliar, and for a few seconds there was nothing. Then it all came rushing back. She was in Luke’s colonial style homestead.
She’d been dreaming again, black and white with splashes of red. Luke in camouflage gear, but the uniform was red instead of green. He smiled at her and then a photographer’s flash erased him. She went looking for him, but she was searching through piles of law books in her old university library. Red lips behind a large black telephoto lens.
Allegra wiped a hand across her brow and tried shaking off the remnants of her dream. She was safe here.
Set on five acres, the property boasted fortress style security, invisible to the naked eye. With the natural landscape in mind, Luke had installed an electronically controlled gate and hidden cameras around the perimeter. He’d shown her the constant stream of images feeding into monitors in the study and kitchen. All outbuildings on the property were individually alarmed.
When she’d questioned his need for such security, his reply was that he worked here on weekends. She hadn’t pressed him further.
She glanced at her watch. Four pm. She’d been asleep three hours.
Pushing aside the luxurious coverlet, she struggled to sit up, sore stomach muscles protesting with every movement. After they’d arrived, she’d taken a shower. Then Luke had changed her bandage, fed
her two painkillers and put her to bed. Thankfully, the cut on her arm hadn’t needed stitches.
Looking around the femininely furnished guest room, she wondered at the separate sleeping arrangements. Especially after last night.
She stood up with a sigh and began making her way around the bed. Who was she kidding? According to Luke, last night was the entire problem.
“I thought I heard movement in here.”
She grasped hold of the bedpost and looked up to see him standing in the doorway.
“Nice sleep wear.” His observation was accompanied by a heart-stopping grin.
In her haste, she’d forgotten to pack pyjamas. The Cold Play tee-shirt he’d given her reached halfway to her knees.
She glanced down at the item of merchandise from their last Sydney concert. “I don’t fill it out the way you do.”
He laughed, and as always the sound lifted her spirits. He seemed more relaxed now they were here.
“You like your music, Commander.”
He came further into the room, hitched the shirt back onto her shoulder, his fingertips brushing her skin. “It’s a universal language.”
She wanted to say ‘like love’, but the words wouldn’t come. “True.”
The faint dimple flashed as he smiled. “More importantly, how are you feeling?”
“I can’t believe I slept so long.”
His hand was in the small of her back as he walked alongside her. “You needed it.”
Allegra glanced at up him, her heart skipping a beat. He’d changed into stressed denim jeans, a light grey ribbed knit shirt and riding boots. Could he ever look bad? She didn’t think so.
The guy was hotness squared.
She searched her mind for a light-hearted comment. She wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough morning. “You sure those painkillers you gave me weren’t horse tranquilisers?”
He threw back his head and laughed again, making her heart swell. “Where are you off to?”
“To make a cup of tea.”
“I’ll do it, the kettle’s just boiled.”
“Where’s Astro?”
“He’s fine. He’s running around with Chloe.”
Allegra’s step faltered. “W…who’s Chloe?” she stuttered. She’d never considered the possibility he might have children.
“My giant Irish Wolfhound.”
Heat flooded into her face. “Oh.”
He grinned as they crossed the pastel green hallway. “I don’t have any children—or at least none I’ve been made aware of.”
Great. Now he could read her mind.
“Any other family?”
“Only parents in Perth, and a nosey sister in London.”
By now they were in the sunny, informal part of the house. She settled herself on the L-shaped modular lounge and watched as he made the tea.
“This house is very family friendly.” She waved a hand around the tastefully decorated room.
He gave her an amused look. “Is that right?”
“Have you ever gone close, you know, to having a family of your own?” She took the cup of tea he offered, pleased when he sat down beside her.
“Only once. I was engaged a long time ago.”
Was this the reason he’d remained single into his mid-thirties? Curling her legs beneath her on the couch, Allegra picked up her cup.. “What happened?”
“She threw me over for my best mate.”
“Ouch.” She wrinkled her nose. “That sucks.”
“Yeah.” He smiled, didn’t seem to have a problem talking about it. “I lost both her and my mate—but that’s life.”
Sending a silent ‘thank you’ to his ex-fiancée, she wondered if this was the girl he’d fought over, amazed any woman would consider dumping someone like Luke Neilson.
She eyed him over the rim of her cup, deciding to press a little more.
“But you’ve never gone there again, hey Commander?”
He glanced sideways at her. “Cross-examining, counsellor?”
“I’m just curious.”
He swirled his tea around, the cup tiny in his hands. “I got an email from my ex-fiancée—a couple of weeks before I was due to come home on leave.”
Sensing he was about to open up a little, Allegra held her breath, watching him, afraid he would clam up. Maybe he’d never talked about this. To anyone.
“I lost focus—and in my job that can be lethal.”
She nodded her agreement, pleased he was sharing his feelings with her.
“The woman gutted me. My life spun out of control.”
Allegra pressed her lips together, hiding the surge of sympathy that made her want to reach out and touch him. A man like Luke would hate not being in control. Still, she had a hard time believing one bad experience would have scarred him forever.
“It’s no picnic for those left at home, Luke. Worry and fear consume their lives. They live in dread of that call. I watched my mother live her whole life like that.”
And you made a vow you’d never do the same.
He slid his cup onto the coffee table and reached for her hand. “I know, and I don’t blame my ex-fiancée for rejecting military life, it’s not for everyone.”
He stared at her, an unreadable expression on his face as he threaded his fingers through hers. “I guess I’m just used to being on my own.”
It hurt to hear him verbalise these feelings, but she’d asked, and it wasn’t his fault she didn’t like his answer. Everything to him was either black or white. There was no room for the unexpected, like meeting the love of your life.
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
She loved him.
And she’d fallen so quickly.
Last night?
It hadn’t been about love for him.
It was about sex.
And he’d just spelled it out for her. He had no intention of being tied down.
At least she knew where she stood with him.
She gazed down at their intertwined fingers, unable to stop the huskiness that crept into her voice. “I must say, it’s a terrible tragedy you’ve decided not to contribute to the gene pool, Commander.”
She raised her eyes to his. He’d been honest with her. She could do no less. “The world could do with more men like you.”
He tapped the knuckles of his free hand against his lips, like she’d seen him do many times, clearly touched by her compliment. Then he urged her into his arms, his embrace so gentle it made her want to sob. Closing her eyes, Allegra fought off the urge to lean into his warm body, steeled herself against the brush of his lips on her temple.
Mindful of her injuries, Luke held her gently, frustrated he couldn’t offer her more. But she deserved better than a battle-hardened veteran with a gag order on him, who couldn’t even fess up about her brother’s death. And when she found out, she’d despise him anyway. It was a ticket to nowhere.
He dragged in a lungful of air and reminded himself why he took the job in the first place. He had to keep her safe because he owed Greenwood.
He loosened his hold as she began to pull away. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
Somehow he had to get them back on solid ground. “Do you feel like taking a look at the mock-up? Tom faxed it through while you were asleep.”
He watched her face go a whiter shade of pale, saw the tremor in her hand as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sure.”
He’d seen the fear that accompanied this type of exercise, so he took things slowly as they moved through to his spacious, wood panelled study. He picked up a file and dragged a chair close to hers, watching as she straightened her shoulders, her expression changing to one of resolve.
“Okay, show me what you’ve got.”
Luke kept the folder closed. “How are you feeling?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m a little sore, but no worse than I was this morning. Why?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Ar
e you dreading having to do this?”
He already knew the answer. She wouldn’t be human if she wasn’t dreading it. No one looked forward to being betrayed by an acquaintance, a work colleague or a friend. He’d seen many people suffer shock after identifying a person known to them. And she’d already suffered one shock today.
To his relief, she rolled her eyes and shifted irritably in her seat, all of a sudden looking like the pissed off lawyer he’d watched in Court, and the woman who’d ticked him off on the terrace. He found it endlessly fascinating, her ability to harness strength and focus on what she needed to do. Nevertheless, he steeled himself for a spray of words. By the look on her face she would have poked him in the chest if he’d been within reach.
“Spare me the touchy feely stuff will you, and just show me the bloody picture.”
More impressed than annoyed, he clamped his lips together and put the folder on the desk, ready for her to open whenever she was ready.
He saw her momentary hesitation, before she glared at him and grabbed the folder off the desk. With one quick flick of her wrist she opened it and stared.
Luke held his breath, disappointed she showed no immediate sign of recognition. She took her time, running her eyes over every millimetre of the sketch.
Finally she lifted her head. “I don’t know this person.”
“Okay.” He reached across the desk and turned the laptop to face them, maximising images from the toolbar. “This is the best we can do with the shots taken from the camera.”
He pointed to the images. They showed the figure of a man bent at the waist, slashing the rear tyres of the AMG, his face almost entirely obscured by the brim of his cap.
“Look at the guy’s build.”
She nodded. “That could be the guy in the garage and the guy who broke the door this morning—but I don’t recognise him as someone I know. He could be anybody.”
“What about the clothes?”
She frowned, leaning forward to concentrate on the image. “I don’t remember anything about his clothes, I only saw his face.”
Luke damped down his frustration. They couldn’t make any headway with this guy. He blended into the crowd, invisible and dangerous. Ally didn’t know him.
Hot Lawyers: The Lee Christine Collection Page 14
