Face in the Frame (5 page)

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Authors: Heather Atkinson

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“Sylvie,” he said, rolling the name around on his tongue, tugging at the belt wrapped around his corpulent belly. “It suits you.” He went quiet to listen when she started to talk about her favourite music. Sylvie was really very interesting.

CHAPTER 5

 

Cass woke the following morning, rudely roused by her alarm clock beeping in her ear. She hit the off button then snuggled back down under the duvet, trying to ignore the headache banging against the front of her skull. She shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne. The memory of Lucas topping up her glass returned and she smiled into the pillow. All the men she usually got involved with were tough and had macho jobs, so Lucas’s gentleness and artistic nature were a very refreshing change. Yet there was still something very alpha about him and she found the combination extremely appealing.

Warm, happy thoughts about her date to come that evening were destroyed by the memory of her row with Brodie. That had never happened before, they’d always got on so well and he never usually criticised her work. In hindsight she knew she was in the wrong, she’d drunk more than she should have and arranged a date with a man her boss thought could be a murderer. Both of these were no-no’s and she knew it. She didn’t have a leg to stand on. But she really liked Lucas and she wanted to keep their date that night.

After thinking the situation over very carefully she decided to go into work and apologise. Brodie would be expecting her to be ready for battle. Going in all contrite would throw him, then hopefully she could convince him there was nothing wrong with her going on her date. They’d never argued before and she couldn’t stand it. Brodie was central to her world and she needed him but there was no way she was telling him that.

 

Brodie sat at his desk, replaying his row with Cass over and over, torturing himself with it. She would come in here like a whirlwind, all hair and angry eyes and he was determined to stand firm beneath the force of her magnificent wrath.

His office was segregated from the rest of the office, walled in, complete with blinds. Cass liked to call it the Bullpen because she said he stomped about inside it like one. Often his clients - who could be scared and nervous - didn’t like to talk in front of his employees, so he brought them in here to talk, pulling the blinds if necessary to give them complete privacy.

He looked up at the poster of Nicola Sturgeon, the First Minister of Scotland, that he’d pinned to his wall and sighed. “Why is life so bloody complicated?” He cocked a grin. “I bet you’ve got it all sorted, you wee minx.”

Through the window of his office he saw the main door open and Cass walk in, looking paler than usual, hair pulled back into a slightly messy ponytail. Clearly she was suffering from a hangover. Good.

Impatience and a little foreboding swept over him as she took her time removing her coat and hanging it up then locking her purse and mobile phone away in her desk drawer - it wasn’t her co-workers she didn’t trust, in their line of work security was paramount.

Hastily he looked down at his desk, pulling some papers in front of him so she wouldn’t know he was even aware of her presence. There was a knock at his office door and he didn’t call
come in
because she normally just walked inside without waiting to be invited. This time she didn’t and he smiled inwardly. It seemed she’d seen the error of her ways.

“Come in,” he eventually barked after letting her stand there for a bit.

He heard the door open then close, heard her boots as she made her way towards his desk then sensed her standing before him. Once again he didn’t react, studying the papers for another thirty seconds, hoping she couldn’t see what he was reading because he’d inadvertently picked up a leaflet about bras that had been stuck inside his morning newspaper.

Eventually he deigned to look up at her and his insides melted. Those lovely dark eyes of hers were huge and full of regret.

“I’m sorry Brodie,” she said.

This wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He’d assumed she’d come in fighting and that was what he’d prepared himself for, that he could have handled but this was eroding all his armour. But he didn’t speak yet, he wanted to hear what she had to say before letting her off the hook.

“I was out of order last night,” she went on. “I knew I shouldn’t have a drink and I did and I know you’re disappointed in me for agreeing to go out with Lucas.”

“I’m glad you’ve finally seen sense.”

“I feel terrible, I hate falling out with you.”

His smile was gentle. “Me too Cass. It’s alright sweetheart, I forgive you.”

“Thanks,” she beamed. “How about I fetch the coffees and cakes?”

“That would be smashing doll.”

Her grin widened and she made for the door.

“Cass,” he called just before she went through it.

She stopped and turned. “Yes?”

“I take it this means you’re not going on your date tonight?”

“I’m still going. Hear me out,” she added when he looked thunderous. “I messed up last night and I didn’t do the job to your satisfaction, so I thought I’d go tonight and see if I can get you more answers.”

His amber eyes narrowed, well aware her intentions weren’t entirely altruistic. “I don’t like it.”

“Please Brodie. I want to make it up to you.”

“Or you want to see Lucas Thorne again.”

“Give me another chance. I’ll find out for sure one way or the other to put your mind at rest.”

He noted she didn’t deny that she wanted to see Lucas again but he wanted to give her a chance. “Alright, but you wear the mike. That’s my condition.”

“Fair enough,” she said cheerfully. “Right, I’ll get the snacks. And by the way Bossman, I think you’d suit the black balconette with the satin trim.”

He was confused until he looked down at the leaflet before him and grinned. “I think you might be right hen.”

She flashed him a smile before vanishing out the door. He watched her go suspiciously, getting the feeling there was a lot she wasn’t telling him.

Three minutes after she’d gone Brodie frowned as a disgusting smell wafted into his office, a mixture of decomposing food and stagnant water. Ross and Christian slouched through the door looking the worse for wear, Ross’s shock of red hair limp and stuck to his forehead and Christian’s usually sharp suit torn and stained.

“What the bloody hell happened to you two?” said Brodie.

“We’ve spent the whole night in and out of stinking squats and hovels,” replied Christian, assessing the damage done to his suit. “It was horrible.”

“Did you find Fred?”

“No and no one’s seen him, that’s the ones who spoke to us anyway,” said Ross. “The rest were either too scared or too spaced out to tell us anything. They wouldn’t have noticed if their own noses had set on fire.”

“So you found sod all?” huffed Brodie.

“It wasn’t for lack of trying,” exclaimed Christian. “Look at my suit.”

“I can’t believe you wore that you daft bastard,” said Ross.

“I would have changed but I don’t have any scruff clothes like you,” he snapped back. Christian and Ross were the best of friends but they were tired, smelly and annoyed.

“Don’t start,” said Brodie, silencing them both. “Get yourselves home, eat, sleep and for God’s sake shower. Then I want you back here at four this afternoon.”

“Why?” groaned Ross. He wiped the annoyed look off his face when he saw the anger flash in Brodie’s eyes.

“Because I say so and if you hadn’t noticed, I’m the boss around here. Suddenly everyone seems to be forgetting that. Now sod off before we get moany arse from upstairs coming down here and whinging about the smell.”

They left in a toxic cloud and Cass returned two minutes later clutching coffee and pastries. She paused and sniffed the air before grimacing. “What’s that smell?”

“Christian and Ross. They returned from their search for Fred.”

“Anything?”

“Nope.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed.

Brodie knew exactly what was going through her mind. If they’d found Fred she would have been free and clear to date Lucas Thorne.

“Where’s my coffee then? I’m gagging,” he said.

“Here you go,” she smiled, placing the coffee and a sticky doughnut on his desk.

Cass returned to her own brand new desk and switched on her computer, Brodie covertly studying her. He was afraid it was too late. Lucas Thorne had already burrowed his way under her skin.

 

“Did you take a shower?” Brodie demanded of Ross.

“Yes, twice.”

“Then why do you still stink?” When Christian sniggered Brodie turned on him. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, you’re not much better.”

Christian’s dark eyes narrowed but he decided not to answer. “Why do you need us anyway? It’s just sitting here listening.”

“Because I want to get your impressions on Lucas Thorne.”

“Why?” said Ross.

“Because I do,” snarled Brodie. “Now shut the fuck up so we can hear what they’re saying.”

Brodie was back in Cass’s flat and wanted the opinions of his other two employees because he was doubting his own judgement, for the first time in his life. What if Cass had a point and he was completely on the wrong track? Sometimes his imagination did runaway with itself and in hindsight his theory was a bit batty. Wasn’t it more reasonable that Lucas took casts from these people’s faces? Then why did his gut rebel at the very thought?

The sound of Lucas’s voice drifting through the speakers set up on Cass’s coffee table drew him back to the present.

 

“I heard this is one of the best restaurants in Glasgow,” said Lucas as he and Cass took their seats at a table towards the back of the room, as requested by Lucas, who treasured his privacy. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, it’s a bit out of my price range,” she said wryly. Not strictly true, Brodie paid her extremely well but she had to stick to her cover. However she didn’t like lying to this man, for a reason she couldn’t define.

He looked mortified. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t.”

He flashed her a nervous smile. “Good. I don’t want to upset you.”

“I’ll let you know if you do,” she smiled back.

Their eyes connected and their smiles broadened.

“What can I get you to drink?” said the waiter loudly, breaking the moment.

“Orange juice please,” said Cass.

“Nonsense, we’ll have champagne,” smiled Lucas.

“Not after last night,” she grimaced. “I’m still feeling a bit delicate.” That was only half true too, she was sure a hair of the dog would shift the headache that still vaguely pulsed behind her eyes but she’d promised Brodie and the last thing she was going to do was piss him off again.

“In that case, I’ll have orange juice too,” Lucas told the waiter.

“Please don’t on my account,” she said.

“I insist. Champagne should never be drunk alone.”

The waiter nodded and scurried away.

Lucas rested his elbows on the table, closing the distance between them. “Tell me more about yourself.”

Oh oh, dodgy ground. “There’s nothing much to tell really.”

“Well, you’re not Scottish, that’s for sure.”

“No, Lancashire born and bred.”

“How long have you been in Scotland?”

“Three years.”

“What brought you up here?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I wasn’t getting along with my family, I wanted a fresh start.”

“Do you come from a big family?”

“Nope. Just me, my older brother and my parents. I have an aunt and uncle in Canada and that’s it.”

“Was it your brother you weren’t getting along with?”

She cleared her throat and looked down at the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m prying,” he said, recognising how uncomfortable she was with the conversation.

“It’s alright, it’s just a sensitive subject. You see…I was attacked when I was a teenager by one of my brother’s friends. It was my word against his and my brother took his friend’s side. It’s always rankled between us. It didn’t help when my parents didn’t believe me either.”

“That’s terrible,” he said, shocked. “Did his friend hurt you badly?”

She nodded. “His family was wealthy and powerful and my family were too afraid of getting on their wrong side to support me. After that my relationship with them went downhill until I couldn’t stand it any longer and I had to get away. Sorry, do you mind if we change the subject?”

“Of course not.”

Cass looked down at her hands and took in a deep breath. That attack had changed her life. It had been the reason why she’d begun training in karate and kickboxing. She’d determined never to be a victim again a long time ago. Very few people knew about that trauma in her life. Apart from her family and the residents of the small village she came from, only Brodie knew. He was the only one she’d ever trusted enough to tell about it, not even Ross and Christian knew but this man had drawn it from her so easily. She looked up at him and smiled. There was something special about him.

“So, what’s your favourite cartoon?” he asked with a grin, making her laugh out loud.

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