Helen Hibbert stared out of the window, watching the two police officers walk away down the quay.
‘Oh shit … ’
She felt hands on her shoulders. Warm fingers circling, smoothing over her muscles.
‘Fuck off, Glen.’
The movement stopped abruptly.
‘Can’t I soothe you? Make it all better?’ asked a man’s voice in what he probably assumed was a low, sexy growl but which actually sounded more like inflamed tonsils.
‘Not now. I’ve got to … to think.’
She felt her bought-and-paid-for man stepping away from her. She kept her eyes on the two police officers as they reached their car and drove away.
So they got him, she thought. They actually did it. She knew what had happened. Jeff must have tried his blackmail scheme and it backfired. Terminally. She took another sip of her drink. Where did that leave her? She knew just as much as Jeff had about what the Sloanes had done. Would they come after her next? She took another drink. If they did, then that was it. She would end up just like Jeff. But if she pre-empted them … A plan began to form.
The two police officers had disappeared. Her glass was empty. Glen reappeared behind her. She turned. He really was good-looking, she’d give him that. Talented and endowed. But expendable. There were plenty more where he had come from.
‘I’ve got to go out, darling. Wait for me.’
He would. As long as she was paying him.