Eye for an Eye (28 page)

‘Do we go
upstairs?’ queried Robyn, her eyes wide at the opulence of it
all.

‘No, that goes
to the sleeping quarters. Go straight on through to the living
area.’

She crossed to
the full-length window hoping to get a better idea of her
surroundings. Perhaps there were neighbouring cottages in sight
where she could seek refuge if necessary.

‘Gosh what a
great view!’ she said brightly. ‘You can see for miles down the
lake, and oh, there’s hardly a house in sight, is there?’

A veranda ran
the length of the lower floor, and Colwyn stepped out to join her
there. A light breeze blew from the lake bringing the scent of
fresh water to mingle with sun-warmed pine fragrance. Robyn took a
deep breath, feeling herself relax at the familiar smells.

‘Oh this is
heaven,’ she sighed. ‘It’s almost as good as home.’

‘I wouldn’t
have thought there were many pine forests around Reading.’ He shot
a searching glance at her. ‘What exactly do you miss about home,
Robyn?’

‘Er, well –
everything I guess. All the things that are different from what I’m
used to. I mean, when you grow up in a place, you always think of
it as home, don’t you?’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I haven’t felt quite
my usual self since I’ve been over here in Canada, especially today
after drinking all that wine last night. How about you, Colwyn,’
she said, turning the tricky questions back to him. ‘Don’t you miss
where you grew up?’

‘Not really.
I’d rather find the best in I wherever I am at the time. That way
you can be content anywhere.’

‘But belong
nowhere.’

‘Exactly. I’m a
free agent, no limits.’

The breeze
ruffled his sun-lit blond hair as Robyn studied his profile. ‘It’s
a bit dangerous, having no limits, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘We all
need some boundaries or how would we behave?’ She felt a huge yawn
welling up. ‘I think I might have a bit of a lie-down, if that’s
all right with you? I’m a bit tired after the drive.’

‘Certainly
Robyn, be my guest. You can sleep as long as you want.’

She disappeared
inside to seek out a soft bed.

Colwyn paced
the length of the veranda restlessly. A cold knot of tension
squeezed his guts. The stakes he was playing for were too high to
let any visiting snoops mess up the game. They had to be dealt
with, no matter how much of a risk it was.

He stretched
and forced himself to relax. It would all work out. He had perfect
confidence in his abilities to make sure that it did. And Harry
would here soon, to take care of the direct action that was needed.
Robyn just had to be kept off her guard until he arrived.

Colwyn smiled.
Just a few more weeks, and his deals would be complete. The rest of
them could all go to hell after that - he’d be off to new horizons
with more money than they’d ever see in a lifetime. He’d have boats
and holiday homes wherever he went, and they’d be still living like
ants, scratching a living from day to day as if that’s all there
was to life. He deserved better things than that, and he intended
to have every one of them.

When Robyn woke
up it was quite late and darkness had fallen on the stunning vista
outside. She went in to the living area where Colwyn handed her a
glass of red wine, and suggested that she take it to the bathroom
where he had run her a warm bath.

Safely alone in
the bathroom, Robyn poured the wine down the sink and set the
wineglass down on the countertop. Her head was only just clearing
and she had no desire to repeat the previous night’s mistake. She
stepped into the water and lay back with a sigh. Scented bubbles
caressed her skin, and she felt her muscles easing with little pops
and twitches. Her eyes closed, but her brain refused to relax.
Something was nudging at her subconscious, saying ‘this is too good
to be true, something’s not right’. Annoyed, she tried to work out
what was bothering her. Eventually the only conclusion she could
come to was that Colwyn had seemed edgy, as if something was about
to happen. She only hoped he wasn’t expecting sex.

Just as she was
about to get out of the bath, she looked round to find Colwyn had
entered the bathroom silently and was standing behind her. He
jumped when she saw him, and smiled oddly.

‘More wine,
Robyn?’

‘Oh, no thanks
Colwyn. Just that one glass was enough to make me feel quite woozy
again.’

He wheeled and
left the room. As soon as he was gone she dried off and dressed
herself quickly to feel less at a disadvantage.

She joined him
in the living room, sitting down at the polished mahogany dining
table. Watching him with an uneasy detachment, she sensed that he
was leading up to something.

‘Robyn, I feel
that we are at the stage in our relationship where we should be
honest with each other. I have to confess something to you, and I
think perhaps you may have something to tell me too.’

‘Ah, I bet I
know what yours is. Come on, spill the beans.’

‘What’s that?’
He was taken aback.

‘You’ve been
peeking at my things, haven’t you? I noticed my purse had been
opened last night. Curious, were you?’

He stiffened
very slightly. Then he looked forlorn.

‘When you said
you wouldn’t tell me who you were, it made me doubt all the other
things you’d told me. I looked in your purse to find some answers
that would mean we could be together, rather than just hiding my
head in the sand pretending that it hadn’t happened. I didn’t want
to confront you with a lie in case…’ He put a catch in his voice.
‘In case I lost you, Robyn. I just want to be with you. Is that so
bad?’

She raised an
eyebrow. ‘No, not at all - but that acting certainly was! Come on,
Colwyn, you can do better than that, I’ve seen you. What’s really
going on?’

His face
changed then, letting the evil beneath show through the mask of
charm. Robyn’s eyes widened.

‘I think you’re
the one who should be telling me that, Miss Taylor. Why have you
been spying on me? What’s your real reason for being here? And who
are you working with?’

‘What? Spying
on you? What on earth are you on about?’

‘Don’t bother
to keep up that phoney British accent, Robyn, the game is up. I
know you’re not English, and I’m pretty damn sure you’re not rich
or expecting an inheritance - you’ve been stringing me a line and I
intend to find out why. You’re a journalist, aren’t you? Doing some
snooping for a newspaper or TV channel, no doubt. Some answers,
please.’

She took
another breath, stalling for time to think. He obviously knew her
real name, but apparently not the reason she was there. She opted
to go for the truth and have it out with him at last.

‘Well, Colwyn,
since we seem to be putting our cards on the table - the real
reason I came here to Toronto was to have a little word with
you.’

She stood up
and faced him defiantly. ‘In fact, I came to sort you out,
mate.’

She reached
down and grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling him to his feet
before he had time to react.

‘You’re a
thieving bastard, Colwyn, that’s why I’m here. You have no idea
what happens to the people you cheat, do you? You take all you can
get and leave them destitute, but you never stop to think about the
consequences.’ Her voice shook with rising fury. ‘You’re a vile,
lowlife prick, Colwyn Symons.’

She hauled him
half across the table while he struggled to regain his footing.
‘You want to know why I’m here? I’m here to give you a good strong
message from all your poor cheated ripped-off victims, you
arsehole. God I wish I had the lamb docker with me! But a damn good
thrashing is going to have to do for now. Are you ready?’

His wig had
slipped to one side leaving him looking weak and vulnerable. She
drew back her fist and aimed at straight his face while his mouth
worked soundlessly.

A car door
slammed outside.

Colwyn’s
expression changed to a triumphant smirk that told her she might be
in trouble.

He smacked her
hands away from him and sneered.

‘Don’t even
think about it. Harry will soon beat that idea out of you, little
Miss Tough Guy. Nobody messes with Colwyn Symons and gets away with
it.’

‘Jeez Col,
that’s crappy dialogue for a silver-tongued devil like you. Can’t
you do better than that?’

She shoved him
forcibly back off the edge of the table and leaped for the window,
eeling through it just as Harry’s squat figure appeared in the
doorway.

She shinned
down the veranda support and fled into the night, seeking shelter
in the trees down by the lake. If she could evade both men, she
might be able to work her way back to one of the cars and make her
escape.

She moved
carefully, testing each step in case there was a dry twig that
would snap and betray her presence. The night was quiet, with
gentle sounds of water lapping and the occasional haunting call of
a loon. Trees rustled in a faint breeze, and stars plastered the
heavens like confetti on a velvet dress.

Robyn edged her
way back towards the cottage, straining her ears for any movement.
A door slid open with a dull rumble.

Harry came out
onto the veranda where Colwyn joined him. Robyn heard them
discussing her.

‘If she’s run
off she can’t have got far. Did you see anything on the road as you
came in?’

‘No, Mr.
Symons, nothin’ but a couple of deer. You want me to go look for
her?’

‘Yes, Harry,
hunt her down and bring her back here. I’ll watch the cars in case
she tries to make a break for it. Do whatever you have to do to get
her back. The sooner we can get rid of the body and get back to the
city, the better.’

Robyn felt cold
sweat rolling down her face. She faded deeper into the trees and
worked her way back down towards the lake. If escape by road was
impossible, then she would have to try another route. She crept
towards the boat shed, keeping low to the ground in case her body
was silhouetted against the lake. Behind her, the door to the
cottage slammed shut. Harry was out looking for her.

She gained the
cover of the shed, slipped silently inside, and picked up a
lightweight plastic kayak with a paddle tucked inside it. As
quietly as she could, she carried it to the lake and climbed in,
careful not to make any splashes. If she paddled around the
headland and across the lake, she’d find habitation and, she hoped,
some help. Odds of two to one weren’t favourable enough to make a
stand against them by herself. It was better to make a quick exit
instead.

The starlit sky
was her only illumination, and orienting herself was a matter of
seeing the shapes of the hills as patches of intense darkness
against the constellations. She dipped her paddle noiselessly,
propelling the kayak forward gently to leave as little wake as
possible.

She had
travelled several hundred yards away from the shore when a bright
spotlight beam flicked past her, searching the dark expanse of the
lake. It passed across her before she could take evasive action,
and came back to pick her out in sharp focus. She paddled faster
now, churning up the water and leaving a foamy trail behind her as
the kayak surged ahead. The light followed relentlessly.

There was a
sharp crack, and she felt the boat shudder. A spurt of water
started to soak her feet. She paddled faster, swerving to throw off
the marksman’s aim. Another crack sounded, and this time she was
ready for it. The bullet smacked harmlessly into the water, but she
toppled away on the far side of the kayak as if she’d been hit.

She had gulped
in several deep breaths before she went, but the sudden shock of
cold water was almost enough to drive it out of her lungs. She
allowed her body to float to the surface, keeping absolutely still.
The spotlight raked across her and stayed for a minute, then two,
while the gunman on the shore checked for signs of life. Robyn was
at the end of her air supply. With lungs straining for oxygen and a
roaring noise filling her ears she had to take a breath. She turned
her head slowly sideways to get her mouth above the surface.

The light had
gone away.

She rolled
gently onto her side and drew in a welcome breath of sweet air,
taking care to make no disturbance of the water. When there was no
sound of activity on the shore, she popped her head up and trod
water, planning her next move.

She tried to
guess what Colwyn and Harry would be doing, assuming that they
thought she was dead. She imagined them rushing round the cottage
polishing fingerprints off every surface and removing all traces of
their visit. She and Colwyn had spoken to no-one in the area - in
fact nobody had seen them since they had stopped for breakfast
miles away. There would be nothing to connect a body in the lake
with that particular cottage, or with Colwyn and Harry. Her
passport was back there though, and she knew damn well he’d take
all her things away with him when he left so as to prevent any
identification. He’d have to remove any evidence of her at his
apartment too, and on the Angel Lady. Then he’d appear an innocent
golden boy to anyone who looked.

The only weak
link in his plan was that she was still alive.

She began to
swim silently towards the far shore, using breast-stroke but
keeping her head above the water. If the spotlight came back she
had to be ready to roll over and play dead again to keep them off
her tracks. The water flowed smoothly past her neck, while her
hands and feet were busy below the surface propelling her forward
with barely a ripple to mark her progress. In front of her face,
stars danced crazily on the inky surface.

Suddenly in the
darkness there was a clattering splash and shrieking cry as a
startled bird took off in fright. Robyn gasped, and looked back
over her shoulder. The circle of torchlight wavered on its path
away from the lake, and turned back. She took more deep breaths and
lay still in the water while the beam swept around, hoping they
would assume that a current had moved her from where she’d been
before.