Detective Amanda Lacey Box Set

by Linda Coles

  Terrance finished the last of his cake and watched as Mrs. John topped his teacup up. With nothing left for her to do, she carried on. “I’ll leave you in peace then, Mr. Dubonnet. You know where I am if you need anything,” she said, and headed for the door, a faint hum going with her.

  She’d have been a fine-looking young woman in her day, he thought as he watched her walk across the room. Tall and slender for her own years, she’d been a widow for nearly twenty of them, and he’d been tempted at times to state his interest. He never had. Yes, he got lonely rattling around the big house on his own, particularly at night, but she’d never shown any interest in him so he’d left it at that. But then he was her employer, so would she have anyway? And besides, he’d found his own unique and special interest had satisfied him over the years – just another reason he’d never sell the house he’d grown up in.

  His thoughts turned to his old Nanny Prue. He thought of her often, like now. She’d been the catalyst for what he desired, he was sure. Where else had it stemmed from? Prue’s room was right next door to his own, and without actually moving in there, he was as close as he could be to her memory. The hundreds of nights she’d spent in his room reading him a story, her light perfume lingering once she’d left his side. . . Her face had been so pretty, even to a small boy, her skin so soft. As he’d aged, become a young teenager, he’d received less of her attention as she’d focused on his younger sister, who had been a surprise to the whole family. Petra had needed Nanny full time, since his mother had no interest in looking after her herself, and so he’d seen very little of her. He’d missed her visits back then and somewhat resented Petra for stealing their time together, so he’d taken his interests out on the girls at school when he could. That hadn’t been easy and had ultimately gotten him expelled from school for a period of time.

  As he’d grown into an adult, his interest had become progressively easier to deal with, though he’d kept it a secret. Now? Well, he’d found the perfect way. If you knew where to look, you could find just about anything you desired, sexual or otherwise. And the service he used was a huge part of his life now, allowing him both freedom and the excitement his prizes afforded him.

  A familiar stirring warmed his body as he remembered the red-haired woman on the flight that morning. He’d been able to watch her from the privacy of his seat without too much difficulty while she’d slept, and knowing she was being monitored for his needs right at that moment excited him. Soon, he’d have what he’d paid for, what she owed him in return. He drank back the last of his tea as his phone buzzed with the message he’d been waiting for. His pulse spiked as he read its contents.

  The next part of the plan was now finalized.

  All he had to do was turn up at the appointed time and location and he’d be in his version of heaven. He pressed delete and the carefully choreographed arrangements disappeared without a trace.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’d love to! Can you give me an hour?”

  “I’ll meet you there then. And Taylor?”

  “Yes, Mum?”

  “It’s good to have you back on this side of the Atlantic for a while.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you shortly. And I’ll tell you all about New York if you want to hear about it.”

  “Of course I do, darling. See you soon.”

  Taylor beamed at the now silent phone in her hand. She’d planned on going over to see her mum and dad the following day, but as it turned out they’d had some business in town and wouldn’t be that far away. With a small chain of shoe shops on the market, Leonard and Judy Palmer had been meeting with various accountants and lawyers over the last couple of months, one of whom had brought them into Croydon. Close to retirement age, they’d decided to sell up, spend some of their hard-earned cash and travel, then probably buy a small hotel somewhere further down south on the coast. A romantic notion, Taylor thought but never said; many people wanted to retire and run a bed and breakfast.

  It made perfect sense for them all to have a late lunch together and catch up. It had been three months since her last visit back home to Croydon, and it had only been a short one, as she’d been on her way through to Europe; there hadn’t been much time to spend with either her parents or her friends. Her passion for art allowed her to travel extensively with work, which she loved; she was sorry that her job in New York had finally come to an end. Now she wasn’t sure quite what she might do with the next part of her life, although with the money she’d saved she was in no hurry to decide. Thoughts of travel conjured up the recent memory of being upgraded to First Class. Was that only yesterday? Still clutching the phone in her hand, she smiled broadly. “What will Mum say about that when I tell her?” she said to herself.

  With only an hour until she was due to see her parents, she quickly changed into something a bit more feminine than normal, pushed a brush through her hair and then tied it up in a loose knot. She dabbed on some blusher and lipstick and she was all set. Her skin glowed with a light bronzing from the summer sun and weekends spent reading in Central Park, stretched out on the grass. But now at the end of summer, the sun’s power was diminishing and cooler mornings and evenings were nudging their way in. The change of seasons excited Taylor – the wrapping up and putting away of one, the unfolding and rejuvenating of another in its place. A bit like changing your wardrobe over and packing away the old season in a box for storage until the following year, she thought. Packed away would be cotton shorts and skirts, and in their place would come light woollens and long-sleeved shirts. It wouldn’t be long until the oak trees in the park near her flat would be dropping their fat leaves, the golden and brown Christmas-tree shapes covering the pavements. Pulling on a light cardigan, she closed the door behind her and headed outside to hail a taxi on to the restaurant for lunch. And her parents.

  Chapter Eight

  “You look lovely, darling! Welcome home.”

  “Thanks, Mum,” Taylor said, hugging her mother tightly. “And how’s Dad?” she said, turning and embracing him. She stayed tight in his arms for a moment or two longer as they squeezed each other tenderly. Always a daddy’s girl.

  “Much better for seeing you,” he whispered in her ear with affection. Eventually they both pulled back and her father looked her up and down.

  “You look lovely, Taylor, and so happy. And a tan really suits you.” He backed up a step to take her in again. “You do look stunning. But then I am biased towards my girl.” Anyone looking on would see how proud he was of his beautiful daughter.

  “And how are you really, Dad?”

  “Ah, well, we’re both getting old and tired, but nothing to grumble about. We have our health on our side still, which is the main thing. And hopefully a buyer for the stores. But first let me ask you – any gentleman friends taken your eye yet?”

  “Oh, Dad! No!”

  “Don’t embarrass her, Leonard. She’s only just got here. Give her a chance.”

  Laughing, Taylor answered anyway. “There’s plenty of time for all that, Dad. I’m only twenty-six,” she said. “And it’s a good job I haven’t got a man friend now I’ve come back home. I don’t have broken hearts to worry about. I don’t think I could deal with being lovesick as well as starting a new career on this side of the world at the same time.”

  “And quite right too,” her mother said, giving her husband a sideways glance in warning. “No rush. Your dad just wants to be a granddad, I think.”

  “It’s usually the grandmother who pushes for that, isn’t it?” Taylor said, laughing. “Talk about role reversal with you two.”

  “Well, I’m not pushing, Taylor. You go at your own pace. But let’s sit down and you can fill us both in on your adventures as a single woman. And I’m hungry, so let’s get a table and order.”

  The hostess escorted them to their waiting table and they each picked up a menu.

  “Let’s have a bottle of bubbles,” Leonard said, “in celebration of you being home. And hopefully a sale finally.” T
urning to the waitress, he ordered a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and three champagne flutes. Judy raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows but immediately relented.

  “Well, I’m in the mood for a proper celebration. It’s so good to see you, Taylor. You do look well on whatever you’ve been up to, I must say.”

  A moment later, a bottle with its distinctive orange label appeared and popped warmly as the cork was set free. The pretty waitress filled three flutes and said she’d be back soon to take their lunch orders.

  Raising his flute, Leonard said, “Now I’m going to propose a toast. Welcome home, Taylor, and to the smooth sale of the business.”

  “I’ll drink to that!” Judy chimed in.

  Taylor saw her opportunity. “This brings back very recent memories, actually – sipping champagne, I mean.”

  “How so, darling?”

  And so, Taylor recounted the story of her First Class upgrade, how she’d travelled in style, and the gentleman she’d chatted to and shared a glass or two of champagne with during the flight.

  “Oh, darling, how wonderful. Your father and I have never travelled more than Premium Economy and I can’t even begin to imagine what First is like. Any idea why you were upgraded? Just lucky?

  “None at all, and I expect it was a random thing, but it was a nice experience while it lasted. Probably never will experience it again.” Taylor rolled her bottom lip up over her top, mocking a petulant child.

  “And I’m guessing this man you got talking to wasn’t your type?” said Leonard.

  “Dad! No. He was way older than me. He had to be in his seventies, I think, so no.”

  “Just enquiring, but I see your point.” Judy reached over and pretended to slap her husband on his hand for his comment. “Now let that be the end of it, Leonard. No more talk of men. Do you understand?”

  He had the sense to keep quiet and nod his agreement.

  “Now let’s order.” Taylor took charge, putting an end to her parents’ jovial spat.

  As the three sipped champagne and chatted about their lunch order, the pretty waitress disappeared for the briefest of moments, ducking discreetly into a room off the main serving area.

  On the other side of London, her message was received. Taylor Palmer was now under full observation.

  Chapter Nine

  The table of three had eaten well, drunk a bottle of champagne between them and were contemplating desert. Half-empty water glasses and crumbs littered their tablecloth.

  “Well, I’m stuffed, but the chocolate fondant is calling me so I’m going for that.” Taylor placed her order with the pretty waitress, who then moved on to her father.

  “And for you?”

  “I think I’ll go for the same. Thank you.” He passed his menu to her as she asked Judy what she’d like.

  “Make that three, thank you.” She smiled. With all three menus gathered, the waitress moved off and conversation at the table moved on again.

  “So darling, what are your plans for the rest of the day? Rest? Jet lag is a funny thing; hits you at all odd hours.”

  “No, I’m feeling fine, actually. I might just take a look around the shops after lunch, stretch my legs, get some air, then I should sleep properly tonight. Want to join me or are you heading back?”

  “We’re heading back. Though you are still coming out tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, absolutely. Your roasts are legendary,” Taylor said, “though when I’ve finished off the chocolate fondant, I might never eat again.”

  “Good. We figured you’d still come even though we’ve had lunch together.” Judy took Taylor’s hand in her own. “It really is good to have you back, and you look so happy and healthy. Life in New York obviously agreed with you.”

  “Thanks, Mum. It’s been an amazing couple of years, and it’s now time to move on to something else new and wonderful, whatever that might be. And hopefully on this side of the globe.” The familiar ringtone of Taylor’s phone chirping from somewhere inside her bag stopped the conversation.

  “Sorry, I thought I’d switched it to silent before lunch.” Taking her phone out to silence it, Taylor frowned as she glanced at the screen. “That’s strange. No caller ID.” The phone carried on its chirping.

  “Hadn’t you better answer it? You’ll never know who it is otherwise. It could be important.” Taylor clicked the green icon to answer it and stood to move away from their table and the other late diners.

  “Taylor Palmer,” she said.

  A man’s voice greeted her back. “Hello, Miss Palmer. Please forgive my intrusion but I am calling on behalf of Mr. Terrance Dubonnet, whom I believe you met yesterday.”

  Taylor thought for a moment, a little confused. “Yes, I did.” Wary.

  “My name is Patrick. I work for Mr. Dubonnet. He wondered if you might be able to meet him later today. He has a couple of good connections in your professional field that could prove useful to you, and he wondered if you might be free to take afternoon tea with him?”

  A little taken aback, Taylor found herself agreeing, intrigued if nothing else. Mr. Dubonnet had been lovely on the flight, and if he did have relevant connections, she’d be a fool to not use them if they were on offer. Someone as wealthy as he was could be extremely valuable in finding her next role, whatever that might be.

  “I shall let him know,” said Patrick warmly. “He’ll be very pleased. A car will pick you up at four pm. What address, please?”

  Taylor looked at her watch. Lunch had taken longer than she’d anticipated, and it was already 3.30 pm.

  “I’m in Croydon at the moment,” she told him. “Will there be enough time? I don’t know where you will be coming from.”

  The man at the other end of the line seemed unfazed by her concern. “That will be fine. If you’ll give me the address, I’ll be waiting outside at four o’clock precisely.”

  Taylor relayed the restaurant’s address to him, and he repeated it back to her. When the call had finished, she stared at her phone a moment before returning back to her parents, and the chocolate fondant that had been delivered in her absence. A quenelle of whipped cream had started to melt on the desert plate.

  “Everything alright?” her mother said, frowning. “You look a little perplexed, if I might say so. Who was that on the phone?”

  “It was someone who works for the man I met on the flight yesterday. Said his boss has a couple of contacts for me and asked if I’d care to meet him later today to chat.” It sounded astounding to her own ears.

  “Well, that’s wonderful isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is, I suppose. I’m a bit surprised, that’s all. A car is picking me up in thirty minutes from outside.” She still sounded a little unsure.

  “Well, from what you said earlier, he sounds lovely, and good on him for trying to help you. And if he is very well off, as you say he is, of course he’ll send a car. Better that than expect you to get on public transport to meet him.” She smiled at Taylor encouragingly. “Oh, how exciting!” Judy clasped both of her hands in front of her as if Taylor had just told her she was getting married. But it did the trick and relaxed her a little. A smile crept onto her face.

  “Well, I guess there’s no harm in going along and seeing what he has to say. It could give me some better options, some more prominent galleries perhaps. And a recommendation from someone like him could be invaluable.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Leonard chimed in. “Choices are always good to have.”

  Judy looked at her watch. “Then we’d better eat up before he gets here. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

  Forks and spoons clattered as they tucked into their chocolate fondants, and the table fell silent for a few minutes.

  At precisely 4 pm, the trio stood outside the restaurant. Taylor kissed both of her parents goodbye with a promise she’d see them the next day and fill them in on the conversation she was about to have, and they wished her luck.

  As they disappeared into the distance, she was aw
are that a sleek black car with heavily tinted windows had pulled up at the curb beside her. She glanced at it, impressed. Even to someone who wasn’t a car boffin, the shiny Mercedes was unmistakably a top-end luxury vehicle. A man wearing a smart black suit and driving cap stepped out and held the rear door open for her.

  “Miss Palmer.”

  “Thank you,” Taylor said, and climbed into the backseat for another sumptuous First Class travelling experience. Just where she was headed she had absolutely no idea.

  Chapter Ten

  Just fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up outside an older boutique-style hotel. While it was less modern than some in London, it certainly oozed extravagance and luxury, but had she expected anything else? A doorman in a neatly pressed uniform and also wearing a cap was at her door before the driver had a chance to get out. She swung her legs out to the pavement in one elegant, fluid movement. Maybe it was the luxurious car that had encouraged her to act a little more demure than usual when alighting. She never got out of a taxi that way; it was generally more of a scramble. The thought amused her as she carried on with the act of being someone she really wasn’t, and found she was enjoying it a little.

  “Welcome, Miss,” the doorman greeted her, and gave her a friendly smile. He had kind eyes and wore gloves on his hands, she noticed. Not really sure what she should do next, Taylor was relieved when the driver appeared by her side with instructions.

  “Please follow me, Miss Palmer,” was all he said, and she walked with him towards the lobby. Her shoes made no sound on the thick, rich red carpet. Heavy gilt-framed paintings adorned the walls; the lighting was muted and regal. Patrick led the way through to a small private room. As he opened the door for her, she saw it had been laid out for afternoon tea for two people. Her first thought was not to marvel at how beautiful the elegant room looked or wonder why it needed to be so private; instead, she groaned inwardly at the thought of more food. How was she going to take tea with her new acquaintance and not offend him by not eating? Maybe she shouldn’t have had the chocolate fondant, but it was too late now. No, she’d have to manage.