Daffodils in March (13 page)

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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Daffodils in March
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She struggled. “Let go of me!” Her voice was high, almost a scream.

“Shut up.”

Tears filled her eyes as he dragged her upstairs and into the bathroom. He dropped her to the floor. Standing over her, he put a finger over his lips. “I don't want another word out of you, got it?”

Her breath came in gasps as she gazed up at him, but she kept silent.

Grateful for that, David leaned over and turned on the bath taps. He put the plug in, letting the water run. He turned back to Eden. Her face bore a vivid red mark where she'd tripped. His gut knotted and guilt filled him.

He ripped off his shirt and tossed it onto the carpet outside the bathroom. Her mouth gaped and he pointed to the wire on his chest then he removed it and threw it as well. He shut the bathroom door, and helped Eden to her feet. “You are an idiot,” he said quietly, his voice shaking in rage. “Do you have any idea what just happened here?”

She shook her head.

He leaned in close whispering. “I'm not an addict or a drug dealer. I'm a cop; and you, my love, have quite possibly blown an eighteen month long undercover operation.” Steam filled the room, the running water gushing behind him.

She hissed back. “Don't try to get out of this. You're a liar, David. You're using and dealing drugs—I found them in the train set. You went from alcohol to drugs. That's probably why Hanna wanted me here. She was afraid of you and what you'd become. You could have killed Marc, me…And don't try to get around me by calling me my love.” She paused, his words seemingly hitting home. “Wait a sec, you're a
cop
?”

“Will you just shut up and let me explain.” He whispered reached over, turning the taps on full blast.

“Or you'll kill me?”

“I'm not going to kill you. You have to leave.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he placed his fingers over her lips.

“Please, look at me. And be quiet.” He waited until she complied with both. “I need to explain. I am a cop.”

Her eyes flickered. “We dated for two years and you never mentioned that fact once.”

“I'm a detective sergeant.” David studied her intently. “I've been undercover for the last eighteen months or so. Deep cover, working one of the nastiest cases I've had in years. And with your stunt today, you've put this whole operation in jeopardy.”

“How?”

“If my cover is blown, we lose everything. Our case against them collapses. We are so close now.”

“Why should I believe you?” She rubbed her face.

David leaned against the wall and studied her. “The flowers in the window mean I'm ready to proceed and everything's fine. If the flowers aren't there, it means I'm in trouble.”

“Did Hanna know?”

“That I'm a cop? Of course she did.”

“Did she know about the undercover bit? Because she told me you wrote for the paper. Just like you did.”

“I do—well my ghost writer does. Eden, my cover had to be watertight. I didn't want her or Marc or
you
here, because of the risks. I didn't want you or her getting hurt. Oh, and for the record, you will always be ‘my love.'”

Eden edged slowly passed him. “You're a complete lunatic. You don't dump people you love.”

“I'm not crazy,” he said, grabbing her. “At least not completely. And I'll explain my reasoning later. But first…” He pushed her up against the tiled wall, covering her lips with his. He'd wanted to do that since the day she moved in and could resist no longer.

Eden started to push him away, but then yielded. Her hands slid up his arms, across his bare shoulders, brushing his collar bone before winding through his hair and lacing around the back of his neck.

His left fingers grazed her side to encircle her waist, while his other hand cupped her neck, as he kissed her lips, her earlobe, and the side of her face. He pulled back, breaking the contact, leaning his forehead against hers. “Eden…”

Eden's hands slid down his back, as her gaze pulled him in.

“No, no, stop, stop,” he whispered.

“David?”

“I can't think like this. Go, pack a bag whilst I figure this out. Soon we'll talk. Properly.”

The mobile on his belt rang and he checked the screen. “That's the boss, probably checking I've killed you. By the way, I'm ‘drowning' you. Neighbors would hear a gunshot.” He let go of her. “Creep past the wire. Don't let them know you're still moving. Stay in the lounge until I come down.”

He waited until she'd gone before answering the call. Then he needed to text Adam from his other phone.

****

Eden sat in the lounge, the afternoon sun shining through the net curtain covered windows as Marc lay on the floor playing happily. The evenings were starting to get longer and it wasn't dark until gone six now.

Her mind whirled. She could still feel David on her lips, but she was so confused. Did he still love her? His actions over the past couple of hours seemed to indicate so.

Things couldn't be any more skew-whiff if they tried. Well, on reflection, they probably could, but she wasn't going down that path. She glanced up as the door opened. David stood there, a fresh clean scent preceding him. He wore a faded shirt over black ripped jeans. It did nothing to hide what she now knew to be an almost perfect body.

He sank onto the sofa beside her.

Her whole body reacted to his presence. The way it had done when they were dating. She was the blue touch paper, and he the match.

He put an arm around her and she sighed as she leaned against him. He smelled of soap and shampoo and at that moment she knew she was his. Lost, fallen, done for.

“I'm sorry I've yelled at you. And I'm sorry that you fell.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke.

His lips brushed her forehead.

She looked up at him. “How much was an act?” she asked. “Just the past few weeks or the whole time we were dating?”

“My boss—the drug cartel I work for—was listening. I had to act that way.” He paused, his hand cupping her face, his fingers stroking the spark within her into a raging fire. “I love you. I always have loved you. But I had to keep you safe and the only way to do that was to leave you.”

“I don't understand.” She ran her fingers down his arm. “I mean, I've heard of love you and leave you, but never taken literally.”

“It was one thing to put myself at risk—after all, it's my job. But to have you here—” He broke off and exhaled deeply. “When I went undercover, Han was engaged and she and Eric would be living miles away, and she was safe. But if I married you, brought you here, you'd be at risk.”

“So when Eric died and Hanna moved back in…”

“It caused problems.” David nodded slowly, his face gaunt. “I didn't want Han here, she knew that, but she thought I was relapsing. And when she insisted you move in as well, all those feelings I have for you came flooding to the surface. The only way I could keep focused enough to work, to concentrate on the job I had to do, was—”

“—to hate me,” she finished.

“—to distance myself from you.” He raised her face to his. “I could never hate you. But I hate myself for what I did to you. Eden, can you ever forgive me?”

“So you're not a nutter?” Raising her hand to his face, she stroked it gently.

“Nope. Unless being nuts about you counts.”

“Of course I can forgive you. I could never hate you.” She paused, needing to know. “David, have you ever killed anyone?”

“No. But I know about the deaths—in fact, I'm the one who informs the cops. I text my partner in the vain hope of averting them. She does the rest. But no matter how many hours I spend in prayer, it doesn't shift the guilt or dirt I feel from being involved in this.”

“How much longer?” she asked. The torment in his face and voice showed just how much he hated this double life he was leading.

“It should have been an hour ago. But now? I don't know. A few days, maybe a week at the most. But I need to get you out of the house tonight and in secret. You can go to your parents' until then. Take Marc with you. And don't contact me.”

“But…”

He cut her off, by caressing her gently. “Please, Eden. Just give me the time I need to wrap this up and extricate myself. They have to believe I killed you. Otherwise they'll do it.”

“Why not just remove the flowers? Get your partner to come pull you out? Or just pretend to hand yourself in?”

“I can't. I have to complete this. Then, once it's done, I go back to being a regular cop.”


Just
a cop? You'll be content without all the action and danger?”

“This is all the action I need to be content.” David pulled her closer and kissed her with such passion, it left her breathless and light-headed, her senses reeling. “Go and pack for Marc,” he whispered. “I'll come and get you when you can come home.”

“Home?” she asked, just as breathless as he was. Her heart beat in time with his, even his breathing rose and fell in tune with hers.

He nodded. “Home.” He tugged the phone of his belt and dialed. “Hey, Adam, it's David. I need you to put a stop on the custody fight. Yeah, you heard, and stop the papers contesting the will.”

Eden looked at him, confusion running through her. “David?”

He put a finger over his lips. “I also need to see you, now if possible. No, it has to be in person. Half an hour is great. Park in the alley and come in the back way. See you then.” He hung up and grinned at her as he put the phone back on his belt. “Is that OK?”

“Yeah, but I don't understand.”

He kissed her gently. “I love you. When this is over, I'm going to ask you out. Properly. I want to pick things up from where we left off eighteen months ago, if you'll have me. We could raise Marc together, here in this house.”

“I don't know,” she whispered. Conflicted emotions tore her apart, as her traitorous heart pounded in double time. “I want to, I just don't know if—”

“If what? You can trust me, I promise. Eden, I love you. And I know for a fact you still love me.”

Eden sat up and looked at him indignantly. “How do you know?”

He winked at her. “It's in your kiss.”

****

Having seen Adam take Eden and Marc safely into the back alley leading to where Adam had left his car, David made a huge play of carrying a rolled up carpet out the front of his house, dumping it in his car and then driving to the tip to dispose of it.

On his return, just after six, David wandered around the empty house, closing the curtains, not sure what to do with himself. It was so quiet. Too quiet without Eden's gentle presence and without the baby. He'd spent so long trying to resent her being there, and all he wanted now was a baby crying and Eden insisting she'd make the feeds.

The landline phone rang. He picked it up and glanced at the caller ID before accepting the call. Eden's parents' number. It was just like the stubborn woman to contact him anyway. “Hello?”

“Hello, David, it's Marie Jameson, Eden's mum. Can I speak to her, please?”

“I'm sorry?” He frowned. If Eden wasn't there, then where was she? It didn't take that long to get across town. “Eden isn't here.”

“Oh. What time will she be here? She rang a good two hours ago, to say she was bringing the baby to stay for a few days. Only Geoff and I have to go out and I'm not sure she has a key to get in with. She isn't answering her mobile and I wondered if she'd left yet.”

“She left here a while ago.”

“She isn't here yet. When did she leave?”

David looked at his watch. “About an hour and a half ago. Maybe she went to the shops on the way over. Let me know when she arrives.” He hung up, berating himself for not having driven Eden home himself. His gut knotted and his stomach pitted. He tried Adam's phone, but it went straight to voice mail—something it never ever did. He dialed the police station.

“Hello, this is DS David Painter, Thames Valley CID.” He couldn't remember the last time he'd used his rank. Long past due. “I need you to run a PNC check.” He gave them Adam's license plate.

“That car was found abandoned on the side of the road about an hour ago.”

His stomach plummeted.
What?
“Where was it fou—?”

The phone went dead.

The lights went out.

He moved to the window and pulled open the curtains. A stereotypical nondescript white van was parked under the street light opposite the house, and by the green telephone exchange box, a man in overalls looked at the wiring. David knocked the vase of flowers to the floor. He had to hope that his partner would check the house tonight and notice the flowers were gone.

He sucked in a deep breath, hoping desperately that God had this whole situation in hand, because on his own he could do nothing. Nor did he know which way to turn.

12

Car lights swung onto the drive and brakes squealed. The front door burst open and before David even got into the hall, Joey and another man he didn't recognize were on him. Two guns pointed at him.

“Is that necessary?” he asked, raising his hands.

“Yes.” Joey grabbed tight hold of him and bundled him through the front door and into the car. He got in next to him and slammed the door.

“Where are we going?”

“Like I'd tell you.” Joey leaned back in the seat as the car pulled away. He pointed the gun at David again. “Strip.”

“What?” David reached for the seatbelt.

“You heard. Strip. Everything. Including your keys, watch, phone and wallet.”

David did as instructed, by no means an easy feat as the car raced along the darkened streets. Somehow he managed to remove shirt and trousers.

“And the boxers,” Joey ordered.

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