Breaking (Fall or Break #2) (11 page)

There was only one way to find out, but he needed to know how many men he had to deal with. He hoped like hell Conrad had done as he’d told him. The sea was coming in, the rocks at the headland already awash. Would
he
have done what he’d told Conrad to do? Likely not but then he could look after himself.

A few minutes later Archer was sure there were just two guys in the house. They’d kicked in the back door to gain entry and were in the kitchen drinking coffee. As he drew closer, any concern this was about Conrad evaporated, unless Phoenix had a hit out on the barrister, and that would be too much of a coincidence, because Archer recognized the thin-faced guy with a big nose. He was one of Phoenix’s cleanup crew.

Archer wasn’t supposed to
know
any of them, but he’d hung around once after a hit had gone down in Germany, when it had been more dangerous to leave than stay, and happened to see two guys pick up the body of the guy he’d just killed, then sanitize the scene. Figuring knowledge was power and following would be good surveillance practice, he’d tracked the dark-haired man back to the UK, to his home in Greenwich. His name was Wilf Ellory.

Why were they here? There was nothing to clean up, except maybe Archer after they’d killed him, if that was their intention. They might be waiting for Conrad to come back to ask if he knew where he was. But then what would they do? Maybe he’d have been better to let them find Conrad at home. Conrad would have told them he’d gone and they’d have left. Maybe. The alternative was they’d have taken Conrad with them and used him in an attempt to persuade Archer to resurface. What would they do when Conrad didn’t return?

He couldn’t risk Conrad falling into their hands. He backed away over the dunes until he reached the coastal path, then ran to the next bay to approach the headland from the far side. The tide was fully in, no way around until it retreated. Archer had to sit out of sight and wait, hoping Conrad was okay and not too pissed off with him.

While he waited he called Partridge. He was going to have to lose this phone anyway so one call didn’t matter.

“Hello?” Partridge said warily.

“Listen. Don’t hang up.”

“Archer.”

He didn’t really need to ask the next question. “Did you give up my name?”

“No.” But the answer was yes.

Archer switched off the phone. The use of his name had been enough to warn him. They were monitoring Partridge’s phone.

By the time the sea stopped crashing against the rocks, it was dark. Archer didn’t dare use his phone to light his way in case the men were watching from farther down the beach. When he slid into the cave he called, “Conrad?”

“Already occupied,” Conrad snapped back. “Find your own uncomfortable rock to lie on.”

Archer sighed with relief and crawled across the wet sand until he could pull himself up onto the ledge. He nudged Conrad back to make room and lay next to him, their mouths only a few inches apart. He felt a stab of lust so strong it knotted his guts and made his cock swell.
Christ, do I have
no
control over my dick?

“No coffee?” Conrad asked. “Christ, the room service in this place is crap. The only good thing was the efficient cleaning system. Very thorough.”

“Thank you for doing what I told you.” He couldn’t see Conrad’s expression. He wished he could.
I want to kiss you.

Conrad sighed. “Was it necessary?”

“You can’t go back to your house. Two men. Big black car. Guns. They kicked in your back door. One was using your computer.” Part lies, part truth.

“Sure they weren’t after you?”

Archer was glad Conrad couldn’t see his face. He laughed. “I’m not
that
unpopular. You’re the one someone tried to kill.”

“True. So what now?”

“I left my vehicle near Beadnell. Once we get to a road, I’ll go and get it then come back and pick you up, drive you wherever you need to go.”
Or keep you a bit longer, fuck you at least once.

“Where the fuck am I supposed to go? I have to call the police.”

“And what do you think they’re going to do? Send armed officers rushing up here? Whoever’s after you will just pull back and wait.”

“I still need to call the police.”

“Yeah, you do.” Because to say otherwise would make him suspicious.

Archer slid off the ledge and crawled toward the cave entrance. He heard Conrad groan behind him. Archer paused as he emerged but there was no gun pointing in his face, no lights, no sign of anyone farther down the beach. As Conrad came out at his side, the guy sucked in a shaky breath.

“Okay?” Archer asked.

“Not really.”

“Stay close to the rock face until we get around the corner.”

Archer hung back in case Conrad slipped. When he did, Archer caught him, and Conrad hung on as he pulled him upright. Once they were away from Shennan Sands, Archer breathed more easily but still tried to hurry Conrad over the wet beach.

Then Conrad’s phone rang.

“For fuck’s sake, shut it off,” Archer hissed.

Conrad pulled his mobile from his pocket. He gave a short laugh. “It’s the police.”

Conrad’s heart pounded so hard he was sure Archer must be able to hear it. Archer had a gun in his pocket. Okay, maybe it wasn’t, but it felt like a gun, though his experience of brushing against guys with guns in their pockets wasn’t exactly huge. He pressed the button to receive the call, put the phone to his ear and tried to sound normal.

“Hi.” He stumbled as he talked. Archer was at his side but he wouldn’t be able to hear the other side of the conversation.

“Mr. Black?”

“Yes.”

“The eyewitness who saw the car veer toward you has changed his mind and says he was mistaken.”

Conrad pressed his lips together then exhaled with a deep sigh. “What? Really?”

“He’s adamant he made a mistake. It’s a dead end.”

“So you’re not taking it further.” Not a question.

“No.”

“You should because I think someone’s threatened me tonight.”

“Think?”

Conrad was reluctant to involve Archer. “They broke into my house. I wasn’t in at the time.”

“I thought you weren’t staying in London?”

“I’m not. I’ve gone somewhere to recuperate.”

“Have you called the local police?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Probably unconnected, but you should contact them.”

Thanks for that vote of confidence.

“The case is still open but without a witness, it really does look like reckless driving.”

And I’m not a fucking witness?
Conrad ended the call and made another. “Sev, it’s me.”

“I’m busy. I do have a social life.”

“I had a call from the police saying a guy had come forward claiming he’d seen the car swerve to hit me. I’ve just had another call to tell me the man has changed his mind.”

“That’s odd.”

“To come forward after all this time and then recant—yeah it is.”

“Could be someone’s trying to smoke you out. Be careful. You need me to arrange protection?”

“No. See what you can find out. Be discreet. Oh and did you do what I told you not to?”

“After you’d said not to?”

“But I know you.”

Sev sighed. “I had another look. Can’t find anything. Still think it’s a little thin. Want me to do more?”

Conrad found it hard not to look at Archer. “No.”

“Is that no meaning yes?”

Conrad laughed. “What I need you to do is to go through all my cases of the last eighteen months and look for people I pissed off. Speak to Martin.”

“We already did that.”

“Do it again. Email me the list. In fact email the court transcripts.”

“Shit, Conrad. That’s going to take hours.”

“I’m paying you. Don’t moan.” He ended the call.

“You should switch off your phone,” Archer said. “Take out the battery. You can be traced from it.”

“I bought a new phone.”

“Maybe whoever is after you is aware of your new number. The police know it. So does whoever you just spoke with. The more who know it, the greater the risk of those you don’t want to know it finding out.”

What the hell are you? James Bond?
Conrad switched off his phone and pushed it deep in his pocket. He was exhausted, confused and alarmed about the possible gun, by Archer’s behavior, by the guys in his house. But exhaustion was stamping over everything to get to the top of the pile. Lifting one foot after the other proved more and more difficult. He ached so badly he wanted to howl.

“Not much farther,” Archer said.

No way was Conrad getting into a car with him without asking what was in his pocket.

By the time they reached the road, he verged on collapse. All he wanted was to sink into a hot bath, curl up in a warm bed and sleep.

“Wait at this bus stop,” Archer said.

“Is there one due?”

“You’re not going to get on it. Stay out of sight. I’ll get the car and Deefor and pick you up.”

Conrad wasn’t going to hold his breath.
Why are you carrying a gun?
The words never came out because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t like the answer. And what answer could there be that he’d like?

Chapter Ten

Conrad thought about walking away plenty of times before Archer pulled up at his side, though he had no idea where he’d go. At least he had his wallet in his pocket. He thought about calling the police but he only had Archer’s word that there were men with guns at the house and he didn’t want to look a fool. What if that “gun” in Archer’s pocket was nothing of the sort? Conrad wasn’t sure whether he stayed where he was because he was too wiped out to walk another step or because this was the most intriguing thing that had happened to him in ages. Except not the gun part. He could do without that.

As he eased into the passenger seat, Deefor jumped onto his lap and licked his face.

“Do you French kiss everyone or just me?” Conrad lifted him down into the footwell. “So where are we going? Not another rock hotel.”

“Somewhere with a bed.”

“That sounds good. Hot shower too?”

“If you can wait for it.”

“Bath would be even better.”

Conrad’s eyes were closing when Archer pulled up, not in front of a hotel but in the drive of a small dark cottage.

“This doesn’t look like the Hilton,” Conrad mumbled.

“Holiday let. Stay in the car a minute. I have to find the key.”

Deefor climbed onto Conrad’s lap, circled, put one paw then the other on Conrad’s balls before he settled down with a quiet grunt.

Conrad groaned. “Well, I’m glad you’re comfortable.”

The lights went on in the house and Archer appeared at the front door. Conrad pushed open the car and Deefor leapt out. It took Conrad a moment to lever himself from the seat, another moment to make sure he could stand without collapsing. His entire body throbbed in pain. Archer grabbed his bag from the rear of the car and Conrad followed him into the house. Each step felt as if he were walking on glass.

“It’s colder in here than outside,” Conrad said. “Is there a reason you don’t like hotels?”

“They’ll be checking them. The moment you use a credit card you alert anyone looking for you. Same with your phone. Keep it switched off. Go upstairs. Choose a bed and go to sleep.”

“Don’t give me orders,” he snapped.

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“What about using
your
credit card?
Your
phone? Cash?”

“Thanks to that article in the paper they know my name too. If they’re looking for you, then they’re looking for me. That reporter saw us together. It’s not worth the risk. Plus it’s not easy to find a place that will take cash with no credit card imprint.” Archer grabbed a can of dog food from his bag and levered off the ring top. “Come on, Deefor. Let’s find you a bowl.”

Conrad turned to look at the stairs. Climbing them didn’t mean he was asking Archer to fuck him. He heaved himself up, one step at a time, worn out to the point of collapse. First door led to a bathroom. He took a leak and washed his hands and face in freezing water. Forget the shower or the tub.

The next door opened onto a room with bunk beds. The only other one had a double. Did Archer know? How had he even found this place? He flicked on a bedside light, took off his shoes and coat and climbed under the duvet. He kept his hat and gloves on. He could feel the cold striking through his clothes but he was too tired for that or his churning mind to keep him awake.

Archer smiled when he saw Conrad still wearing his hat in bed. He lifted Conrad’s phone from his coat pocket and crept downstairs. Before he left, he turned on the central heating, then drove to Beadnell. He parked the car in the middle of a line of vehicles on a residential road and ran along the coastal path toward Shennan Sands. The only person about was a guy walking his Dalmatian.

The car was still outside the cottage but no lights were on. Archer took a roundabout route to the back and looked through the kitchen window. He couldn’t see anyone. He took out his gun before he slipped through the part-open door, then stood listening.

He couldn’t hear anything either but there was a pervasive coppery odor he recognized.
Fuck.
He risked taking the flashlight from his pocket and did a quick sweep of the kitchen. Two guys lay in pools of blood. Wilf and the other man.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
A knife lay between them.

A check of the downstairs rooms revealed no more bodies but the place had been ransacked. Archer went up the stairs fast, his gun ready. There was no one there but the rooms had come in for the same treatment as the others. Books and DVDs pulled from the shelves, the chess set scattered over the floor. Back downstairs, he grabbed a bag from Conrad’s closet, filled it with clothes, and gathered toiletries from the bathroom. Conrad’s laptop was still in a kitchen drawer. Archer suspected no one had thought to look for it there. He grabbed the charger and put the bag down by the back door before he filled another with food.

He donned gloves and went through the dead men’s pockets but they were empty, not even any car keys. They’d both been stabbed multiple times. Was this supposed to look as though they’d killed each other? Was that why the knife had been left? He took a picture with Conrad’s phone and left the way he’d entered. If this was a setup, the police could be on their way right now. As he headed along the back of the beach in the direction of his car, he tapped a number into the phone.

“It’s Ten,” he said.

“Ah,” was Phoenix’s response.

You might well sound wary, you fucker.

“You have a problem. I’m sending you an image.”

A short while later Archer heard Phoenix suck in a breath.

“Before you ask, no, I didn’t kill them,” Archer said. “I found them like that.”

Phoenix was uncharacteristically quiet.

“You need a cleanup crew to clean up your cleanup crew,” Archer said.

“How do you know they’re mine?”

“I recognized Wilf. I followed him once. What had they come up here for? To persuade me to leave with them? To kill me? To clean up after someone else killed me?”

“If—”

Archer heard the fury in that one word and spoke quickly. “Why would I kill them? I’ve never touched anyone on British soil.”

“Who have you pissed off apart from me?” Phoenix’s anger sounded genuine. “Ah, unless this doesn’t have anything to do with you but with your little friend.”

Archer could see no point in denial. “Someone wants him dead.”

“And that someone has killed two of my men.”

“Possibly.” Archer clambered up the bank onto the pathway at the back of the dunes.

“The car accident that wasn’t an accident.”

Of course Phoenix knew. He’d have thoroughly investigated Conrad once he discovered the barrister was linked to him.

“If I deal with that problem, you should be prepared to return the favor,” Phoenix said.

“What? So I can get set up again and picked off after I make a hit?”

“I need you working so I can find out who was behind the incident in Paris. That’s why I sent the two to Northumberland. To persuade you to cooperate.”

How did he think they were going to do that?

“You have a name. William Connor,” Archer said. “Isn’t that enough? Why haven’t you found who he was working for?” He thought about the photo spattered with Connor’s DNA that was still in his bag, but he didn’t trust Phoenix.

“I’ll set up a dummy hit and have men watching your back. You can wear Kevlar.”

“No.” Archer wanted no one behind him. Body armor was of no protection if he was shot in the head.

“You can’t run forever.”

“I can run as long as I need to.” Probably not, but…

“And what about your friend?”

“What friend?”

Phoenix laughed. “What’s he going to do when he finds out what you are? You’ll ruin him. You need to walk away right now.”

Archer knew he was right but he wouldn’t leave Conrad in danger. For all his uncharacteristic waffling about whether he should stay or go, he had to make sure Conrad was safe. Caring was an unfamiliar emotion. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

Phoenix chuckled louder. “Don’t tell me you’re getting attached.”

Archer bristled.

“We’ll take care of his problem because it’s turned into my problem,” Phoenix said. “But I’m not happy. In return, I want you back in the fold.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

But not with this phone.
Archer switched it off, took out the SIM card, and put it in his pocket. After he’d removed the battery and wiped the mobile down, he disposed of them in two different places before he got back to the car.

He stared at the vehicle for a time before he opened the door. In an ideal world he’d have dumped it and found another but that would have to wait. He put Conrad’s bag and the food in the back, removed the child seat and dropped it over someone’s garden wall.

It was too dangerous to stay in this area for long. He had to keep moving.

Archer arrived back at the house at one in the morning. No lights on downstairs but there was a faint gleam from an upstairs window. He parked out of sight of the road, although the property was on a quiet lane with little traffic. He’d chosen it because it was isolated. A bit of research before he arrived in the northeast had told him it was the holiday home of a family from Lancashire. The kids’ Facebook accounts revealed the times of year they stayed there and mid-November wasn’t one of them. In every town where Archer had stayed he’d made sure he had a bolt hole in case running wasn’t an option.

Deefor raised his head and looked at him from his spot by the kitchen door as Archer crept past with Conrad’s bag. “Some bloody guard dog you are.”

Conrad stirred as he walked into the bedroom. “Where’ve you been?”

“To get your stuff. You’re still sleeping in your hat?”

“And gloves.” He pulled his hands out from under the covers and tugged the gloves off, then the hat. “I’m hot now though.”

“I put the heating on.” Archer’s stomach lurched at the sight of Conrad’s messy hair.

“What time is it?”

“Just after one.”

“Any sign of the men with the guns?” Conrad stared straight at him.

Archer wasn’t sure Conrad believed him. “You can’t go back to the cottage.”

“Why? They still there? Is there trouble?”

“Not now.”

“What does that mean?”

“You should go to London. Hire a bodyguard.” The more Archer thought about it, the better the idea sounded. With guys who wanted to kill them coming from two directions, he had enough trouble keeping himself alive without having to worry about Conrad.

“So you’re just going to fuck off and leave me here?” Conrad pushed himself into a sitting position with a grunt of pain, then glared. Which gave Archer a hard-on.
Fuck it.

“I’ll put you on a train.”

Conrad threw back the covers and struggled to his feet. He picked up his coat and fumbled in the pocket. “Where’s my phone?”

“Gone.” Archer put the SIM card on the dresser and moved to stand in the doorway. “You need a different number.”

“Christ Almighty. Call me a taxi.”

“It’s the middle of the night. Wait until tomorrow.”

Conrad shoved his feet into his shoes. “I don’t want to wait. I’m fucking fed up of waiting. I have no idea what’s going on. You walk out, then you walk back. You don’t know what you want and I’m tired of waiting for you to make up your mind.” He put his coat on and stepped right up to Archer. “Get out of my way.”

“No. You need to calm down. You can’t get a train at this time of night.”

“But I can get away from you.”

Archer nodded. “And you should. I’m bad for you.”

Conrad gave a choked laugh. “I think I’d figured that out when I nearly drowned rescuing your butt from the sea. Now shift.” Conrad raised his hand to push him and Archer caught his wrist.

“You’re upstairs,” Archer said quietly.

Conrad’s eyes glittered. “So I am.” He wrenched free.

Lust coiled and twisted in Archer’s gut. His cock was hard and getting harder. Conrad’s belligerence turned him on big time.

“You’re not leaving this room until we’ve fucked.” Archer felt a rush of relief, as though a huge wave had swept over him, washed his head clear and left him still standing.

“Why the hell would I want to do that?” Conrad snapped.

“Because it’s there between us, stopping us thinking straight.”
Stopping
me
thinking straight.

Once he had Conrad out of his system, he could move on. He’d put the guy on a train to London. Tell him to stay with a friend, maybe his ex until he’d sorted out a bodyguard.

Serves me right.
A weight settled on Conrad’s stomach. He hadn’t meant to push Archer to that but when he saw the way he was staring at him, unblinking…Conrad’s heart beat faster and his breathing turned ragged.

“You want it, you’re just too chickenshit to admit it,” Archer said.

His words tipped Conrad out of lust into anger. When Archer made a grab for him, Conrad struck out with his fist. The blow glanced off the guy’s chin, hurt Conrad’s knuckles, and Archer fucking laughed.
Wanker.
Conrad let fly with his other fist, hurt that hand too and found his wrist ensnared in Archer’s grip.

“Let me go.” Conrad tried to jerk free.

Archer tightened his hold. “You’re going to hurt your back if you struggle.”

“You think I’m going to stick my butt in the air for you? Get fucking lost.”

Archer pulled him close and wrapped his arms around his body, pinning Conrad’s elbows to his sides as they stood face-to-face. Conrad could barely move, couldn’t even kick out. Archer shoved him against the wall, pinning him with his body, sliding his arms down to wrap his hands around Conrad’s wrists.

“Let go of me,” Conrad snarled, half thinking the opposite.

“No.”

“I’m warning you.” Had he ever said anything so pathetic? If Archer laughed, he’d head butt him.

“What of?” Archer’s mouth hovered an inch from his, his gaze raking Conrad’s face, constantly returning to his lips.
Is he going to kiss me?
The pressure of Archer’s chest was making it difficult to breathe. “What are you warning me about?”

“I’ve forgotten,” Conrad mumbled. “Might have been an incoming Exocet missile.”