Personal Protection (26 page)

It was the Cairngorms, but the rest was about right. The idiot had some
Thirty-Nine Steps
fantasy. Nothing came of it. As far as I know, he’s still very much alive. But if somebody
is willing to pay me the going rate for my services, why should I complain?

“We went to Funny Girls, then Bar B’s. While we were taking in the show, Tori kept twisting round. She said she could feel somebody watching her. She couldn’t pin down who, but
after we’d paid in next door, they came up to her. It was your Cecily.”

“She isn’t my anything except ex.”

“Glad to hear that.” She twirled a paper umbrella from her drink.

“Sammi!”

“Your green eyes flash so beautifully when you’re angry.”

I growled. She wriggled like a happy puppy. “God, if neither of us was taken you and I could have such fun!” I gave her The Look, and she tossed the parasol back into her drink with
a sigh. “All right. She was charming and attractive and Tori was flattered. You hadn’t made a commitment. You were getting over your last girlfriend. Tori wasn’t sure how you felt
about her or if anything was going to come of it. She let Cecily chat her up and flirted a bit.”

I understood. “She was keeping her options open.” Sammi nodded. “But the more they talked, the more obvious it became that Cecily wasn’t really interested in her. She
kept asking whether she was with somebody. What were they like? Was she going to stay with them? What were they like in bed? I thought it was her hamfisted way of finding out if Tori was available.
Then some woman in the loo told me she was your ex, and I twigged. It was you she wanted, not Tori. She must have seen the pair of you together. I reckon she wanted to know what her chances were of
getting you back.”

“Or decided to split us up.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I told Tori and she blew her off.”

“And you’re telling me this now because?”

“I like you. Tori too. I wouldn’t want it to happen again.” She took a great interest in her long red fingernails. “And the bitch is sitting right over there.”

Everything slid into slow motion as I lurched to my feet. Sammi’s voice droned like a tape deck with exhausted batteries. The music groaned and faded out. Audience applause thundered
against me, rocking me on my feet like a physical thing. And Cecily turned in her seat to look right at me, unleashing a slow smile with all the warmth of winter.

Why hadn’t I seen it? All this time, all the stones we’d looked under to find the villain in Tori’s life, and the culprit had been right there in mine, laughing at me.

Time snapped back into its usual frame. Tori pushed through the tinsel curtain and disappeared backstage with her tips. I had missed her whole number. I turned back to Cecily’s table and
found it empty. Shit! Where had she gone?

“Randall? Are you OK?”

Sammi.

I needed to think about this before I did anything. What was it Tori had said to me only this morning? ‘She’s a barrister. She’ll have you in court so fast your feet
won’t touch the ground. Think with your brain, not your fists.’ And of course she was right. Especially as I didn’t have a shred of proof.

“Sammi, I need you to do something for me. Find Tori. Stay close.”

She frowned.

Please God, don’t let her give me an argument. I could only work with what I had.

“OK. With a reception like she got any crumbs that fall from her table will be rich pickings tonight. You think Cecily...?”

“I don’t know. Don’t say anything to Tori. I don’t want her worried.” Which was of course why I couldn’t guard her myself; if I stood sentry she’d know
something was wrong straight away.

“Mum’s the word.” Sammi smiled. “I’ll keep an eye on her, I promise.”

“Thank you.” I lifted her too-big hand and gently kissed the fingers, then set her drink back into it, a large denomination bill wrapped around the stem of the glass.

She made a big production out of tucking the money in a glittery garter, just as if I was a paying customer. Then she blew me a kiss and glided away after Tori.

I sank back into my seat and tried to scan the club nonchalantly for my nemesis. Just as over-protecting Tori would alert her to trouble, so would haring around after Cecily. I waved away a
refill for my drink while I eyeballed the room and tried to come up with a strategy.

‘Think with your brain not your fists’. Tori was right. Much as I wanted to beat Cecily to a pulp, I needed proof if I was to make assault charges stick and at the moment I had none.
Tori’s desire not to involve the police meant there weren’t even any medical or photographic records of her injuries.

If I had spoken with Cecily about the sub/dom scene as I’d originally planned, would I have realised the truth sooner? My desire to avoid her at all costs had lost me a valuable means of
collecting evidence. I was entirely to blame that we hadn’t resolved this earlier.

That led to further grim thoughts. If Cecily was responsible for Tori’s rape, might she not be responsible for the death of Lisa Moran, too? Sammi’s attacker and the other
girls’ stalker had been identified; who else did it leave? She certainly had the means and the opportunity.

What about motive?

The attack had been frenzied and post mortem. The killer had been angry with Lisa. I cast my mind back over my own liaison with Cecily. Putting off speaking to her because she made my flesh
crawl had got me into this mess in the first place. I couldn’t scruple to examine my relationship with her now if it might yield clues to her behaviour. What had Cecily wanted from me?
Initially she’d wanted me to hurt her, but when I refused she turned the tables. She craved blood and suffering with sex the way other women needed to be held and told you loved them when it
was over. Yet it was my reaction to the pain that had pleased or irritated her the most. Had Lisa disappointed her in some way with her reaction to Cecily’s games? Had Cecily’s
punishment for a perceived transgression gone too far? Might Lisa’s death have been an accident?

I now felt certain Cecily was Lisa’s killer, however it had come about. With Tori’s safety at risk I could not afford to give her the benefit of the doubt. If she’d killed once
she could kill again.

Which made the motive for Tori’s rape – what? Because she was with me? To kill our relationship? To get back at me? Or was it vanity to assume it was about me? Didn’t Tori and
Cecily loathe one another?

Why
she did it mattered less than whether it was over. I didn’t know whether I should be fearful for Tori’s safety now I knew her rapist might also be a murderer.

And I had no evidence to prove any of it.

I closed my eyes and pinched my nose against the onset of a headache. What was I going to tell Dean? More to the point, how was I going to tell Tori?

When I opened my eyes, the throb of pain counter-pointing this new problem, I spied Cecily at the bar. She seemed to be with a group of women friends. I wondered if Ashley knew where she was.
The anatomy of cheating has always escaped me. I watched her laughing and joking with her friends and wondered if she’d have the gall to come over and confront me. I doubted it. She’d
always had one face in public and another in private. I suspected she’d save up some pithy comment for one of our uncomfortable encounters on the landing.

Perhaps that was how I could trap her? Could she be cocky enough, confident enough to confess all, thinking herself safe and immune from prosecution? And could I manipulate her into telling the
truth?

Which brought me back to motive. Shit. My head was really starting to pound now.

To further complicate matters, Christmas was only four days away. My lover and my business partner would kill me if I ruined the festivities for them. Both had plans I was to be a part of. Much
as I loathed putting it off, I had to delay trying to resolve this. Maybe distancing myself would help me come up with a plan of action Dean would agree to? All I had to do was contrive a way to
stick close to Tori over the next few days and she would be safe. I watched Cecily making her way to the doors, confident of having achieved tonight’s objective: rattling me.

She’d achieved a lot more than that, and none of it to her advantage.

I set out to track down some painkillers.

I’d make it my New Year’s resolution: bag Tori’s rapist and Lisa Moran’s killer. Find a way to get the goods on Grey and the Chief Super. Sounded good. Now all I needed
was a plan.

“Tell me that you’ve cleared your calendar for Christmas.”

“I promised I would and I have. I’ve a few things to finish on Christmas Eve morning, then I’m all yours till January second.”

“You won’t regret it.”

My family estrangement meant I’d deliberately worked through past Christmases. Lack of a partner gave me nothing to stay home for. This year Dean was closing the office early to spend time
with Craig, and for the first time I was spending Christmas with a lover and her family. My only reason for leaving my suspicions – no, certainty – till later was that Tori would kill
me if I ruined things.

“I’ll see you at eight for Dean’s party?”

I woke from my distraction. “Hum? Yes, of course.”

D & C were hosting their annual Christmas soirée. Now all was forgiven, we had been invited. I’d arranged to pick Tori up at eight.

My wool-gathering made me miss what she’d been saying. She repeated kindly, “You’ve met my parents, Randall, they don’t bite.”

Let her think it was nervousness. Better that than the truth. She changed the subject.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

“A new watch.” The manufacturers had lied about it being water-resistant.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m not. That was the best sex I ever had! A buggered watch is a small price to pay.”

She threaded her arms around my neck and wove her fingers through my short hair, teasing out strands of it, wrapping it – and me – around her fingers. “Aren’t you going
to ask me what I want?”

“Nope. I already bought you something.”

Her eyes lit.

“No. You’ll have to wait till Christmas Day.”

She pouted.

“What if I don’t like it?”

“You will. Should I get something for your folks?”

“A bottle of wine to go with dinner would be fine.”

“Red? White? Rosé? Sparkling? Still?”

“Buy whatever you like, it’ll go with something. There isn’t much they don’t drink.”

“If you’re sure that will be enough. They are hosting and cooking for the whole day.”

“What do you get for your parents?”

“My mother always wanted perfume or clothes, my father only wanted the money.”

“You do still get them something?”

“A card.”

“Randall!”

“Ask me if I’ve ever had one back!”

“Keep sending the cards, Randall. Some day we’ll spend Christmas with them.”

“I doubt it, but it makes a nice Christmas wish.”

“Is a watch is all you want? How about some curtains to brighten the place up?”

I put my finger in my mouth and made gagging noises. It’s a standing joke that my apartment is more masculine than D & C’s house. Wood, marble and stainless steel make up the
solid surfaces, leather and suede the soft furnishings. There are wood panels and emulsioned plaster walls – no wallpaper; no curtains – I have aluminium Venetian blinds; and no carpet
– it’s cork floored throughout. I don’t possess a vacuum cleaner. When it gets dirty, I take a mop to it. The only fabrics are the bedclothes, towels and my clothes. And the
tailor’s dummy the body armour lives on when I’m not in it.

It isn’t a place I spend much time in. Tori was horrified at first, but she says it’s grown on her. It doesn’t distract her from the most important thing – me. (What a
flatterer!) She still can’t resist making jokes about the paucity of my possessions.

“I’ll never persuade you to move in with me, will I?”

What had brought this on? “I like the arrangement we have.”

“If you lived with me we could share a bed every night.”

“We already do.”

“Never the same bed two nights running!”

“I didn’t know that bothered you. Does it matter so much where we sleep?”

“Think about it, Randall. Regular meals, cooked for you. Laundry done…

“Tori, I don’t expect you to stay at home and be the good little housewife while I’m the breadwinner. You’d hate it! I’m not saying I wouldn’t mind somebody
to do my chores. I’m just not prepared to make you my domestic slave to make that happen.”

“Think of the financial aspect. We could rent your place out. Make heaps of cash.”

“Is that what this is about? Money? Put my rent up. Don’t stand on ceremony because we’re a couple. I’m not going to demand a joint bank account. If you need
it…”

“I don’t. Much.”

“Then what? Aren’t you happy? Is it that you think I’m not committed?”

“I know you’re committed. It’s just…

“Tori, I love you, you know that.”

“Do you think I’ll leave you again?”

“Yes… No! I don’t know!” I threw my hands in the air. “I just can’t live with anybody.”

“Because of Gina?”

“No. Gina was just the proof.”

“It always comes back to her, doesn’t it?”

Shit! Shit! Shit! I really didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Tori, I’m over her.”

“Really?”

“Really. I just need my own space. I don’t want to resent you. I would if I felt I had no escape.”

“So you need to escape me now?”

“Of course not!”

“Well, that’s how it sounds.”

I took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. “I meant a metaphorical escape.”

The look of betrayal in her eyes told me anything else I said was going to be the wrong thing. I’d been so intent on handling her carefully, first because of the rape, then to ensure she
was back for good, that she thought she’d tamed me. I was entirely to blame for the fix I suddenly found myself in, and I couldn’t begin to think of a way out of it that wouldn’t
totally fuck up my life. So I did the only thing I could.

“I have to go to work.”

I grabbed my jacket and left. I didn’t dare look back.