The Girl with the Emerald Ring: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 12)

by Elise Noble

  “Well, I’d better call Roxy.”

  “Roxy?”

  “She finished her medical degree recently, and she’s more than capable of suturing Gemma’s cuts. Or if you want someone with more experience, I can see if Dr. Phil’s free?”

  “Dr. Phil? Seriously?”

  “It’s short for Philippa. She’s great at stitching people up, but her bedside manner sometimes leaves a bit to be desired. Roxy… Let’s just say she’ll understand what Gemma’s been through.”

  “I trust your judgement.”

  I wished I could still say the same, but learning that Alaric had a kid… I couldn’t get Bethany’s revelation out of my head.

  “Talk to you later.”

  Sky stared at me when I hung up. I was watching the road, but I felt her gaze boring into the side of my head.

  “Rape?” she asked.

  “I only wish I could’ve castrated Ryland before he went splat.”

  “You know what?” Her voice sounded a lot stronger now. “I think I actually can do this job.”

  Thank goodness. “Attagirl. Wanna pick up dinner on the way home? Pizza? Chinese? A curry?”

  “Pizza.”

  “What kind? I’ll phone the order through.”

  “Hawaiian.”

  What the actual fuck? I stomped on the brakes and skidded into a bus stop, leaving a trail of rubber behind us. Surely I must have misheard?

  “What did you just say?”

  “Hawaiian. You know, ham and pineapple? Thanks for the whiplash, by the way.”

  “You put pineapple on pizza? Oh no. No way. We cannot be friends.”

  “What’s wrong with pineapple on pizza?”

  “It’s a fruit. Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza.”

  “Tomatoes are fruit.”

  “Utter bollocks. To everyone except nerds and gardeners, tomatoes are a vegetable.”

  Sky folded her arms. “Well, I like pineapple on pizza. I bet you have pepperoni.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Ugh. Pepperoni’s too chewy.”

  “Heathen.”

  “You barely complained when I smashed your nose, you killed a man without breaking a sweat, and then you almost died, yet this is what you get upset about?”

  “It’s just wrong.”

  “Tell you what—you can sit at the other end of the kitchen, and we’ll barely even be able to see each other.”

  Had I totally misjudged Sky? I mean, I didn’t mind her breaking the law, but this was a crime against taste, quite literally.

  “Well, you’ll have to order it. I don’t think I can bring myself to utter the words.”

  “Fine.”

  I handed over my credit card. “Just don’t come running up to me when your taste buds shrivel up and die. And get extra pepperoni on mine. I need something to counteract the horror.”

  “Do you want anything else? Chilli peppers? Double cheese? Anchovies?”

  “Anchovies? Ugh. I suppose you eat those too?”

  Sky wrinkled her nose at the prospect, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least we agreed on something.

  CHAPTER 48 - BETHANY

  ROXY WAS A miracle worker. Not only had she stitched Gemma up, but she’d also talked to her about her ordeal in such a kind, understanding manner that Gemma had calmed down enough to fall asleep in the spare bedroom next to Judd’s after eating an entire large pizza and a carton of Ben & Jerry’s. Apparently, Ryland had been criticising her diet for months—too much fat, too many carbs, not enough protein—as well as telling her that she looked chubby.

  He’d started off charming, she said, sweet and attentive, complimenting her at the gym until he finally asked her out. She’d thought he was a real catch, only for his dark side to emerge as things got more serious. He became controlling, abusive, and when she tried to break up with him, he’d snapped. Nobody left him, he told her, at least not alive.

  I dreaded to think what that meant.

  Apparently, they’d found the little room on the other side of the wardrobe when he moved into his new place. It seemed an enterprising former occupant had been short of space and decided to create a makeshift extension. Gemma had even helped Ryland to carry the old mattress and bedding left behind in there down to the dumpster several weeks previously, as well as scrubbing the whole flat because Ryland didn’t like dirt or germs. At least that phobia meant he’d used a condom when he forced Gemma to do the unthinkable.

  But it was over. Now we just had the broken pieces to fit back together. I only hoped there weren’t too many missing. Ravi had offered to drive Roxy home, which left me alone in the living room with Alaric, a large gin and tonic, and a whole boatload of awkwardness.

  “Talk to me, Beth. It’s not good to bottle things up.”

  I’d carefully sat in an armchair to give myself some space, but my plan backfired because he came over to sit on an arm.

  “I…” Where did I start? “At first, on the roof, I was barely thinking straight. Emmy told me to hold a wooden board to help save Gemma’s life, and I just did it. And even after Ryland fell, I was… I guess I was sort of numb. Is that normal?”

  “Perfectly normal.”

  “Then when I saw those people gathered around his body on the ground, I was horrified. A man died. Somebody’s son. Perhaps somebody’s brother. Except when Gemma told us the details of what Ryland did, all I felt was anger. And then relief. I still feel desperately sorry for his family, but I’m glad he’s not here anymore.”

  There would be no hospital exam, no investigation, and no court case. Gemma had been spared from that ordeal, and she could start to heal rather than prolonging the agony. Death provided closure. She said she wanted to put it behind her, that she refused to let Ryland ruin her life. I think that was Roxy’s influence. They’d talked alone for half an hour, and Gemma seemed much better for it. Roxy had promised to come back tomorrow too, just to check how she was getting on.

  “And now you feel guilty for that?”

  I hadn’t got as far as analysing my discomfort, but yes. I nodded. “I can’t help it.”

  “That’s good. It shows you’ve still got your humanity.”

  “Emmy didn’t seem affected.”

  “Emmy’s had a lot of experience at hiding her feelings.”

  “And you?”

  He looked me in the eye. “I’m out of practice, but yes, I have too.” He laid a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped out of my skin. “That bothers you.”

  “You’ve killed people?”

  “I used to have a job I can’t talk about.”

  But I understood from what he didn’t tell me that the answer was yes. “How did it make you feel?”

  “There’s a reason I’m not doing that job anymore.”

  That was good, right? It showed Alaric cared and had integrity. But holy shit, he’d killed people. I was sitting in the same room as a man who had blood on his hands, but weirdly, I didn’t feel scared. Not at all. Not after the way he’d moved heaven and earth to save Gemma.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay?”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  “But you weren’t okay earlier.”

  “Well, it was all so fresh, and I was shaking, and Gemma was crying, and…”

  “No, I mean before that. Before we went anywhere near the roof. You’ve been walking on eggshells around me since yesterday lunchtime. What changed?”

  Oh, hell. My father’s phone call. I’d been trying to block it out, but it had been there the whole time, tugging at the edges of my subconscious, yet another layer of shit making the day stink.

  But what was I meant to tell Alaric? And how should I react to my father’s accusations?

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Beth.”

  One word, and it cut me to the core. I couldn’t lie to Alaric. Since our second meeting, he’d done nothing but help me, and we couldn’t move forward with this huge secret between us. The only other option would be for
me to quit my job and leave myself and Chaucer destitute.

  “It’s…honestly, I’m fine with all the Gemma stuff. But…but there’s something else.”

  He brushed the hair away from my face. “I’m listening.”

  At first, I couldn’t speak, but then it all came out in one big vomit of words. “My father called. Yesterday while I was out fetching lunch. And he said he’d spoken to people who knew your father, and in your past…that you’d stolen a ransom, ten million dollars, and I said you wouldn’t have done that, no way, but he said you definitely did, and that if I don’t keep away from you, he’ll cut me off completely. And I said some nasty things and then hung up, and now…now I don’t know what to do.”

  “Fuck.”

  “It’s not true, is it? Is it?”

  Alaric moved away, back to the sofa, putting distance between us. I began to get a bad, bad feeling about whatever he had to say. A prickling in my spine, like ice crystallising from the bottom up.

  “It’s true that I was accused of those things.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “You’ve got good instincts, Beth.”

  “So you’re saying you didn’t?”

  “No, I didn’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t lie to you. I promise you that.”

  “Then what…? Why…?”

  “I don’t know. Eight years later, I’m still no closer to the truth. The payment was for a painting, not a person, and somebody set me up to take the fall.”

  The ice in both my spine and my drink melted as Alaric told me the story of Emerald, of the heist, the investigation, and the botched exchange. When he got to the part about people shooting at him, I almost threw up.

  “You could have been killed.”

  “And yet here I am. So you see now why I was so interested in Red After Dark?”

  “You think it can lead you to Emerald.”

  “If I achieve nothing else in life, I want to get that damn painting back. The diamonds were practically untraceable, and the chances of someone spotting a serial number from the cash are slim, but the painting…there’s only one Emerald. She’s unique.” He managed a half-smile. “And I hate losing.”

  When I was a teenager, I’d felt that way too. Every time I rode into a dressage arena, or cantered over the line towards a course of showjumps, or waited in the start box for a cross-country round to begin, I’d wanted to win. Marriage to Piers had almost made me forget what it was like to come out on top.

  “Me too. So we’re going to keep looking?”

  Alaric picked up his wine glass, swirled the now-warm Pinot Grigio, and drained the remainder.

  “I’m going to keep looking.”

  “But what about me? I’m part of this too, and I work for you.”

  “I can’t be responsible for you losing your inheritance. Beth, I’m not worth it.” He held up a hand when I opened my mouth to protest. “Right now, you could still resolve things with your family.”

  “What if I don’t want to? What if I want to stay with you?” Shit, wrong word. “I mean, work for you?”

  At that moment, I was glad Alaric had put some distance between us; otherwise, I might have been tempted to throw myself into his arms. The thought of never seeing him again wasn’t one I wanted to contemplate.

  “It’s too big a decision to make in a heartbeat. You were under a lot of pressure yesterday. And if you’re worried about money, I won’t see you stuck. I’ll pay you six months’ severance and loan you any more you might need.”

  “But I haven’t even done any work yet.”

  “You helped to save Gemma’s life. I’d say that counts.” Alaric got up and headed for the door, but before he reached it, he turned and looked right at me, his gaze intense. “Take some time to think about this. I live in the shadows, Beth. I’m no Prince Charming. And I’m not the kind of man you throw away your entire future for. It’s only a job.”

  No, it wasn’t only a job.

  Alaric had said he wouldn’t lie, but he just did. If I was going to give up everything, then he was exactly the kind of man I’d do it for.

  CHAPTER 49 - ALARIC

  ALARIC HEADED UPSTAIRS, his heart heavy. One week. One week, and he’d gotten in so deep with Beth that it would hurt like hell to see her go.

  He hated that her old man had given her an ultimatum. For one crazy moment, he considered trying to talk to the asshole, but he quickly saw sense. Bertram Stafford-Lyons had the same character as Alaric’s own father. There was no reasoning with either of them.

  And Alaric knew how difficult it was to walk away from everything. There’d been times in that first year—like the weeks he spent in a Mozambique hospital, shitting his guts out from malaria—that he’d wished he could turn back the clock and go begging to the people he’d left behind. Life alone had been hard. Beth wouldn’t be on her own, not completely, but when she lost her inheritance, would she grow to resent him for splitting up her family?

  It wasn’t a decision she should make lightly.

  And then there was his lifestyle. He’d always danced on the edge, and he didn’t know how to live any other way. Didn’t want to live any other way. Tonight, Emmy had diced with death, but next week, it could easily be his turn. Of course, all the risks he took were calculated, but they were still just that: risks. Plus he didn’t need any emotional entanglements, not right now, and Beth was the very definition of temptation.

  Damn, he wanted her.

  That slip of the tongue downstairs, the way she’d looked at him… He’d had to leave because otherwise he’d have dragged her into his arms and made the decision for her. His dick still disagreed with his choice. Sex had always been his favourite way to relieve stress. But sometimes it caused more problems than it solved. Like that last night with Emmy at Riverley, for example. If he hadn’t been so busy fucking her, perhaps he’d have done a final check of the pay-off, and then they’d know for certain whether the switch had occurred before he left for the handover. No, he couldn’t afford to get distracted by a woman again, not now. Not when the trail to Red After Dark was still so fresh.

  Beth would have to make her decision, and he’d have to live with it.

  Since he’d offered her his bed tonight—without him in it—and Judd was due back in the early hours, that left him two choices: wait until Beth went to sleep and then take the couch, or share with Ravi.

  It wasn’t hard to make up his mind.

  Ravi was sprawled across the bed, face down and buck naked, but when Alaric slipped into the room, he mumbled into the pillow.

  “Thought you’d be with Beth.”

  “We talked. She knows.”

  “Knows everything?”

  “About Emerald. And a little of my past.”

  Ravi rolled onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. “How’d she take it?”

  “Better than I thought, but it’s complicated. How are you holding up? It’s not every day you see a man reduced to his component parts.”

  “Wired. Fuckin’ wired. I drank a couple beers, but I still can’t sleep. I might go out for a while. Unless…” His gaze settled on the bulge in Alaric’s pants. “Unless you want to take my mind off things?”

  Alaric’s history with Ravi was complicated. They’d first hooked up in Phuket seven years ago. A double-booking at a hostel led to them sharing a room and later a bed. It was meant to be a fling, nothing more—a week of sex and snorkelling and the kind of companionship Alaric had missed since he left the US. A week turned into a month, then fate intervened. Naz and Judd showed up one evening, and all hell let loose.

  Now, Alaric and Ravi were colleagues above all else. They’d never gotten into deep-and-meaningful territory, but occasionally when they needed to blow off steam, their relationship slipped into friends-with-benefits. It looked as if tonight would be one of those nights.

  But as Ravi got to his knees and reached for Alaric’s belt buckle, it didn’t feel the same as it had in the past. No rush of heat, no relea
se of tension. Why? There was nothing between Alaric and Beth. There couldn’t be, not with circumstances as they were. Alaric forced himself into the moment. Ravi had done this dozens of times before, and they’d both enjoyed it. Nothing had changed, had it? Had it? So this time, why did Alaric feel as if he was cheating?

  EPILOGUE

  THE WOMAN WHO called herself Hevrin Moradi shifted her baby in her arms as she walked across her flat. A fly buzzed past her face, and she waved it away. No matter how many she caught on the sticky spiral of flypaper hanging in the kitchen, there were always more. Probably because there was something dead in Bellsfield House North. Every so often, she caught a whiff of it, and it reminded her of home. Of Rojava.

  The smell had grown worse over the last week, and she’d finally plucked up the courage to contact the council and let them know. Probably just a rat, the lady told her. She’d agreed to send out a pest control man, but so far, there’d been no sign of him. Eunice had promised to call if he didn’t show up. Last time there was a rat, she said, it had turned into fifty rats, and besides, she had a problem with her plumbing so she had to phone anyway. The water in her bath wasn’t draining properly, and this morning, her toilet had nearly overflowed when she flushed it.

  The knock at the door came again.

  “Who’s there?” Hevrin called.

  Living on the Bellsfield Estate left her uneasy. Even before Ryland Willis’s death, she’d hated the place, but where else could she go? As an asylum seeker, she wasn’t allowed to work, and even if she could earn money, childcare cost a fortune. She volunteered at a homeless shelter once a week, serving food with Indy on her back, but back in Syria, she’d had a very different job. War had forced her into the tightest of corners.

  She missed the old days at home. She missed sitting in the sun with her grandma, eating dates and listening to music on their tinny stereo. She missed growing her own vegetables. She missed the warmth, not just of the sun but of the people in her neighbourhood. Her old house was gone now, reduced to rubble along with her hopes and dreams for the future.