After a brief debate, Chris had caved into allowing them to ride with him across London. Edgar Smith had either done well for himself or used family money to afford his swanky home. Osian couldn’t help his sharp whistle when they stood staring up at the renovated Regency-era home.
How much money was a private security guard making to afford a home in Regent’s Crescent? They had to cost a good eight to ten million pounds. It had to be nice being able to rely on a family fortune.
Or had something more sinister provided the wealth required to allow him to live quite literally in the lap of luxury?
“How many millions do you think he sank into this place?” Dannel wondered. He leaned against the lamppost, watching Chris pace with his phone to his ear. “Ossie?”
“Hmm?”
“Stop trying to listen to his conversation.” Dannel adjusted the headphones that he’d brought out of his backpack. All the traffic noise had put him on edge. The blissful cushioned silence helped. “What do you think?”
“About?”
“These places. Apartments. Flats. Whatever they want to call them. The estate agent’s website doesn’t list how much they go for.” Dannel waved Osian over to show him what he’d found on his phone. “Not even a price range.”
“If you have to ask the price, you probably can’t afford it.”
“If they listed the price, we still wouldn’t be able to.” Dannel pocketed his phone, then wrapped his arms around Osian when he leaned into his body. “Think about it; if my uncle didn’t own the building, we’d never live where we do, and it’s definitely cheaper than these places.”
“Family money.” Osian canted his head to one side to watch Chris wrap up his call. “What time is it in America? Maybe he’s chatting with his sister.”
“Rolly texted me earlier.” Dannel reached a hand up to adjust the level of noise cancellation on his headphones. “They apparently ruled out the client. They’re still looking at Willa, though.”
“What’s her motive, though?”
“To be fair, she’s seems more the type to make some sort of professional dig. File a complaint.” Dannel knew people like Willa. He’d worked with a few at the fire department over the years. “She’s not getting her hands dirty enough to get herself in any sort of legal trouble.”
“True, though Haider would probably point out our gut instincts aren’t evidence.” Osian stepped out of his arms when Chris wandered back over. “Everything under control?”
“Tamsyn.” Chris frowned at his phone. His fingers gripped so tightly that Osian wondered if the device was about to crack. “She thinks someone’s following her.”
“How can she tell?”
“She lives in a tiny little spot in Florida. She knows everyone in the town. Everyone. Strangers tend to stand out, especially ones with accents.” Chris closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several seconds. He folded his arms across his chest. “I doubt he’d actually hurt her. Scare her and me, though? Definitely.”
They were silent for a while. Then, finally, Chris scowled over his shoulder toward the opposite end of the crescent. Osian followed his gaze and spotted an intimidating figure closing the distance between them.
“Following me now?” Edgar stalked the last few steps until he stood almost toe-to-toe with Chris.
They were similar in their stature and held themselves almost identically as well. Likely their shared military experience. It reminded Osian of two dangerous predators sizing each other up.
“Pulled your motorcycle out of storage?” Chris threw the words at Edgar like daggers, clearly waiting for the man to flinch.
He didn’t.
“Sold my motorcycle ages ago. Why? Has something happened?”
Exchanging a glance with Dannel, Osian caught him by the sleeve to pull him behind Chris. The two men obviously needed to engage in either a conversation or a fistfight. And whichever they chose, Osian had no intention of getting in the middle.
It was far more entertaining to watch from a distance.
I should not find this amusing. We’re talking about murder and conspiracies. Murderous conspiracies. Oh, I like that. We’re using it for a podcast episode.
“Ossie?” Dannel leaned over and whispered, “Not sure you should be grinning when I’m pretty sure Chris is about two seconds away from throwing a punch.”
“Bugger,” Osian muttered.
As amusing as the posturing was, Osian had no doubts Chris throwing a punch would only wind up causing trouble for him. Edgar had a gift for riling their friend up. Any physical altercation could be used against them.
“Since you’re so interested in my movements.” Edgar paused for a moment, obviously enjoying how irate Chris was becoming. Osian braced himself for whatever verbal bomb the man intended to drop. “I’ll be leaving the country next week. Thought I’d do a bit of travelling. Get a bit of sun. London is so dreary this time of year, don’t you think? I’ve always wanted to visit Florida.”
Osian lunged forward immediately to grab Chris by the back of his jacket, stumbling slightly when it wasn’t enough to halt the larger man’s movement. “Easy, Chris.”
“Maybe if you spent less time obsessing over what I’m doing, you’d see there’s someone a little higher up with a closer connection to Sharrow’s wife than I have.” Edgar tapped his nose with his finger and smirked at Chris, who looked about five seconds away from punching the man. “Florida’s lovely this time of year.”
“Smarmy wanker,” Dannel muttered.
Osian failed miserably in his attempt not to laugh. “Give me a hand? I feel like Spiderman trying to hold back the Hulk.”
“Do you mind?” Edgar broke into Osian’s debate with Dannel. “We’re having a conversation.”
“No, you’re not having a conversation. You’re being a massive pillock, hoping to goad Chris into making an arse of himself.” Osian stared pointedly at Dannel, who rolled his eyes. He tried to lock his legs to keep Chris from moving toward Edgar. “He’s dragging me forward like I’m a sodding toddler.”
“And I’m supposed to help?” Dannel nudged Osian out of the way. He looped an arm around Chris’s waist and walked him back. “Not quite the Hulk.”
“For one, I’m not green.” Chris deftly broke Dannel’s hold on him. “I’m fine. I’m not going to touch the— Him. I’m not going to lay a hand on him and risk being arrested. Something I’m sure he wants.”
“Am I not needed for this chat?” Edgar drew their attention back to him. “If not, I’ve got better things to do than hang around outside all afternoon.”
“Were we actually having a chat?” Osian decided to lead the conversation, maybe keep the two almost brothers from going entirely off the rails. “You seemed more interested in poking at Chris. You mentioned something about Judge Allsop?”
“Don’t think I said a name, did I?” Edgar smirked, then walked past them, jogging up the steps into his place and slamming the door behind him.
“Short chat.” Osian stared at the closed door for a few seconds before turning to Dannel and Chris. “He did mention someone close to Judie Sharrow. So who else fits the bill other than Judge Allsop?”
“He’s not the only person who meets the incredibly loose criteria.” Chris had his phone out. His fingers tapped furiously against the screen. “I’m sending a message to a friend of mine in Florida. I want him to keep a closer eye on Tamsyn until I can visit.”
“Abandoning us for sunnier lands?”
“If only temporarily.” Chris spent another minute on his message before finishing up. “Let me give you a lift home. This is a dead end.”
“Maybe.” Osian waited until they’d gotten into Chris’s vehicle to grab his own phone. “I’m going to see if Abra can get any more information out of Judge Abbey. She’d know if Judie Sharrow was friendly with anyone other than Handsy Hamster.”
And maybe she’ll be open to giving us more dirt on Allsop.
What else do we have?
Nothing.
Aside from two family members who might go to jail if we can’t figure it out. Is Wayne family? Stop poking holes in your own theories while you’re talking to yourself.