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Lexi wasted no time sending a message to the profile of Doreen Clancy. But she paused over the wording. She asked her to get in contact, typed out a phone number and added a link to the company website. But it all appeared very dodgy, mirroring the deviousness of a scammer. They slipped into the private in-boxes of their victims with an engaging and enticing hook guaranteed to whet the appetite. It seemed pointless to protest her innocence, so Lexi set her phone on the desk. “Bet I never hear from her,” she said to Nahla with a sigh. “I wouldn’t respond to a message like that.”
She rose and stretched, groaning as the fine bones in her back popped and realigned. The evening spread before her, empty and long. She never expected to miss her studies and the online webinars, but she did.
Closing the office window against the evening air, she wound her way back to the kitchen. None of the food in the fridge enticed her. When her phone rang as she poked around the tins in the pantry, she snatched it from the counter with a flicker of relief. “Hello?” Too late. She glanced at the screen and saw the unlisted private number instead of a trusted contact. Rookie mistake. Her tone hardened. “I’m a little tired tonight. Perhaps someone else would enjoy your deluded impression of an orgasm. I’ve had enough of my own to know you’re missing something quite major.” Her mind strayed to hard muscle and sharp-edged bones. Not Tarant naked alongside her, but Randal. Sunlight played on the farm boy’s hair and his eyes danced with laughter. When the caller didn’t reply, Lexi’s index finger descended over the red button to kill their fun.
“Lexicon?” Her father’s plummy English accent held a note of affront. “Is that how your employer likes you to answer calls?”
A giggle burst free, and she pressed a hand over her lips. She took a moment to compose herself. “Leon and Associates,” she trilled. “It’s outside office hours, but how can I help you?”
Lachlan sighed. “Come outside. I’ve arranged to pick up Garima on the way. We’re taking a wee ride.”
Lexi ached to refuse. “Garima has rugby practice,” she stated. “He gets benched if he doesn’t show.” Guilt prickled her conscience. He’d missed his session on Tuesday night when he monitored her injuries after the showdown with Rojas.
“Look at the time, girl,” Lachlan growled. “Practice ends in five minutes. And the first game isn’t for weeks. Come outside, please.” Despite the niceties of the request, Lachlan’s words formed a command. Lexi pictured Doug and Ron yanking her gate off its runners and forcing her into the vehicle. They could do it. Her shoulders slumped. She didn’t want the damage or the expense of their home invasion. The gate formed a barrier against the outside world. It needed to remain upright and functioning for her to feel safe.
“Okay,” she said with a tired sigh. “Give me two minutes to grab some warmer clothes.”
Garima had warned her not to negotiate with Lachlan Mortimer. ‘Just do what he wants,’ he’d advised. ‘Pick the hill you want to die on, Lex. Don’t refuse every request. One day, he’ll ask you for a big favour. You’ll need all your energy then to rebuff him.’
Lexi locked up the house, annoyed she didn’t have time to set her rudimentary traps. The gate slid aside enough for her to pass through the narrow gap. With a jab of the remote, she sent the catch clanging home before a moth finished its journey across her threshold. The hard metal repelled it and its wings darted to keep it airborne. Lexi pursed her lips with relief it hadn’t died in the mechanism. Such a small creature, but she recognised the analogy with her own situation. Flutter and fail. Flutter and fail. Always something insurmountable in her way. As the dazed moth flapped along the pavement, she wondered at what point she would fall and stay down. A depressing, empty thought.
Doug and Ron made no appearance this time. The chauffeur opened the rear door for Lexi. He stood to attention, a bland smile on his thin lips. Muscles bulged beneath the sleeves of his smart suit jacket. He heard and saw nothing, as per his job description. Both driver and perhaps body guard. Lexi sank onto the leather seat and slid away from the closing door. Her jeans squeaked against the polished surface. The night stick nestled along her thigh. “Where’s the other guy?” she asked, jerking her head towards the partition.
Lachlan smiled and turned his beady eyed gaze on his daughter. “He didn’t work out,” he replied.
“So, he’s wearing concrete boots and swimming with the fishes in the Waikato River then?”
Lachlan exhaled as though he found her constant jabs energy sapping. He offered wine and sandwiches. She refused with a mutter of thanks, but accepted the China cup and saucer filled to the brim with Earl Grey tea. A minor concession. Lachlan nodded with approval.
The Limousine slid through the darkening streets towards the rugby club in the east end of Hamilton. This chauffeur didn’t steal glimpses of her through his rear-view mirror, like the last driver did. His gaze remained on the road and the traffic trickling east.
Lexi turned to her father. Her voice rang over-loud against the gentle hum of the expensive engine. “Have you ever watched Garima play?”
Lachlan crossed his thin legs and smiled at her. “I’ve seen every game since his return to New Zealand.”
Lexi leaned forward in shock. Tea slopped into the saucer. “I’ve attended home games. You weren’t there. And Garima’s never mentioned it.”
Lachlan’s lips flattened into pensive lines. The pressure bleached their colour until they almost disappeared. His endless patience irked Lexi. She ached for him to snap, to break into tiny pieces and tell the truth about why he left them. But he wouldn’t. Her futile efforts mocked her. “There’s a hill,” he stated, “above the rugby ground. My driver takes me there and I use these.” From a side pocket, he pulled out a pair of antique binoculars.
Lexi shook her head, not wanting to believe she’d let her guard down. “No, you can’t hide this vehicle. I would have seen you.”
Lachlan tapped the side of his nose, enjoying her discomfort. “There’s a house at the top of the rise. I own it, Lexicon. Next time I’m enjoying a glass of Chablis in the bay window of the lounge, I’ll toast your frozen fingers and toes, shall I?”
“Don’t bother.” Lexi stared through the side window and sulked. His words hurt. They presented the image of a doting father who’d bought an entire property to watch his son play. But he didn’t invite his daughter to share his warm vantage point during the next muddy game in the miserable winter rain. Just a raised glass from a distance and more superiority.
Lexi sipped her tea and remained silent as the long vehicle slipped through the sparse traffic. Lights flicked on behind curtains, casting a milky glow onto gardens and streets. They painted an illusion of comfort and happiness. Lexi had seen the lie enough times to dismiss the façade. Bad things still happened behind nice front doors. Affairs, fraud, and all manner of crime. The worst of humankind became unleashed in private. She shuddered and pressed her spine against the stiff leather seat.
“Why do you need us both?” Her tone still held a spiky edge.
“Wait and see,” he replied. And turned his face to gaze through his side window.
