I unlocked the door. As soon as James opened it, my mouth started watering. Not at him, if that’s what you were thinking. There was no mistaking the smell of the greasy hangover-cure breakfast. McKenzie stumbled through the doorway carrying a paper bag covered in oil spots in one hand and a takeaway cup in the other. It smelled good, and I hadn’t eaten all day. I licked my lips.
James caught me doing that and raised an eyebrow, but then he put the pieces together.
“You didn’t have breakfast.”
“How could you tell?”
“You were either licking your lips at me or my breakfast and my luck hasn’t been that good lately.”
Me licking my lips at him would be something he considered lucky these days? Wow. He really had fallen from grace.
“Well, you’re right. I’m hungry.”
“Want a hash brown?”
“It poisoned?”
He frowned, wounded. “Just being friendly.”
“Just being cautious, what with your reputation and all.”
“I’m not a murderer.”
He looked like crap. Too much alcohol and not enough sleep, I guess. I actually found myself feeling sorry for him for a second. Kind of. No, that was stupid. He didn’t need my sympathy. I, on the other hand, did need breakfast.
“Is the hash brown still on offer?”
James smiled and plonked himself on the spare chair next to me. Rather presumptuous of him, but I decided not to tell him to fuck off largely because I wanted him to share his breakfast with me.
He looked terrible, like he’d barely slept at all. And like the booze was still attacking him from the inside.
“Regretting some decisions you made yesterday?”
“Not as much as your mum regretted blah blah, insult about you being born.”
That’s not just me being lazy with telling the story. He actually didn’t bother to finish his own snarky comment.
“You’re really losing your edge.”
He sighed. “Sorry. I know I’m usually a better arsehole than this, but I’m too exhausted to put in the effort.”
“You mean hungover?”
He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, that too. But I didn’t sleep well either.”
“From all the waking up to vomit?”
He shook his head. “The cops came knocking again last night. They were asking the weirdest questions.”
I frowned. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, I was half-asleep. They were asking me where I was on certain dates. Like, years ago. I had no idea what they were talking about. Who remembers that kind of stuff? I can barely remember what I was doing a week ago.”
Weird. Why would the police be questioning James about his movements going back that far? It had to be related to Frank’s murder, surely. But how? “Did you call a lawyer?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t a formal interview. I think they’re just messing with me because they know I won’t go after them for harassment.”
“You need representation, James. You can’t think of the cops as your friends right now. Why not get Adam Baxter to represent you? I mean, I know he’s not a bundle of laughs, but spending time with him is definitely better than life in prison.” And based on what Tim had said, he was good. Really good.
“He’s not a big fan of cops.”
I shrugged. “You’re barely a cop, though. You’re a suspected murderer, and since it was a rich white guy you supposedly slaughtered, your fellow police aren’t going to cover it up for you like they would under different circumstances.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Tell me what you really think, Charlie.”
“My point is, you need a good lawyer.”
“I have good lawyers.”
“Of course you do.” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve probably got a whole team to deal with any potential issues arising from you underpaying your workers or whatever. In future, maybe you should call them.”
“I will. Promise.”
“I don’t know why I’m worrying – you’re rich now. You won’t go to prison.”
“Fancy Charlie Davies worrying about me.”
“I know. I’m disgusted by it.”
He opened his grease-soaked brown paper bag and retrieved a hash brown, handing it to me. “I just can’t figure out why they were asking me where I was on random dates years ago. How does that have anything to do with my uncle’s murder?”
I bit into the hash brown before he came to his senses and realised who he was sharing his meal with. He’d handed it over so willingly! Who shared anything without huffing at least a little? “It must mean something,” I mumbled around a mouthful of potato.
James didn’t even flinch at my gross table manners. He was used to it from all the times we’d eaten together while growing up. “I know, but what?”
“Do you remember any specific dates?”
He shook his head. “I typed up notes on my phone of what I could remember, but when I looked this morning I couldn’t decipher them at all.”
“Read them to me. Maybe I’ll come up with something.”
“OK, but I wouldn’t hold your breath,” he said, wiping the grease off his hand with a napkin and taking out his phone. He tapped the screen a couple of times. “Alright, how about this? Sexy marshmallow.”
“Sixth of March?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Could be. You speak sleepy James?”
“It looks that way. We still don’t know what year, though.”
“No, we don’t.”
“And I don’t have a clue why they were asking you about dates in the past. What could they possibly be trying to find out?” I slouched back in my chair. “I’m tempted to write it off as Andrews being incompetent, but I’m worried there could be more to it.”
“That’s pretty much how I feel, too.”
“So you’re here to tell Tim about it?”
He nodded. “And now thanks to you I can tell him to look out for anything related to my uncle that might have happened on the sixth of March.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, voice muffled once again by my mouthful of oily, carby goodness. I reached over and picked up his drink, taking a sip. He didn’t bat an eyelid as I slurped down the beverage. “Iced coffee on soy with hazelnut syrup?”
“Good guess.”
“No need to guess. I know your order.”
“Did you find it out so you could poison me more easily?”
“No, and I’m offended you’d think I might do such a thing. I was going to slip you laxatives, but then I researched the side-effects and figured verbal attacks were a better course of action. I didn’t want to interfere with your bowels like that.”
“Is there a way you want to interfere with them?”
“That sounded flirty. Why did that sound flirty, James McKenzie? We’re talking about poo.”
“It absolutely did not sound flirty, and if you think that is me hitting on you then I’m truly terrified to know what your past experiences with men have been like.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That’s probably the correct reaction.”
“You dated some pretty strange dudes in high school.”
“That wasn’t an invitation to start teasing me about my old boyfriends. You did that enough at the time.”
“My apologies. I’m sure some of them were perfectly OK people. Although not Creepy Elliot. I maintain that he should be locked up to this day.”
“He wasn’t that much older than me.”
“I’m not backing down on this one.”
And I didn’t really want to argue on Creepy Elliot’s behalf, so I decided moving on was for the best and called Tim to reception.
James gave me another hash brown and I drank some more of his coffee. A minute later Tim arrived.
“Morning, honey. And you too, Charlie,” said Tim. I smiled at him and he winked back. He turned to James. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah,” answered McKenzie. “Karen’s cleaning up my uncle’s house today and reckons I’ll just get in her way if I try to help. I don’t have anything else to do, so I thought I’d come visit, see if you found anything. Plus I’ve got a new potential problem to tell you about.”
“Come down to my office, James. We can talk there.”
I crossed my arms. “Not willing to give him an update in front of me?”
“Using my information would be cheating,” Tim teased. They walked away, James leaving his coffee with me.
Great. Tim wasn’t feeling helpful today, and I didn’t have a clue why the cops were questioning James about his past. What now? There was only one thing for it. Sigh.
I got back to work.
Now that I’d eaten and drunk something I felt a bit better. It really was a good iced coffee. If I’d had one of these, I wouldn’t share it with anyone, let alone my worst enemy. It wasn’t like I had been particularly friendly to him. So what was he up to with this nice guy act?
OK, I admit it – I have a slightly suspicious nature. People can’t be kind without me thinking that they’re up to something. What did McKenzie want? To soften me up on the deal?
I guess this goes to show something. If you asked me to sum myself up in three traits, I would say no. But if I actually had to do it, I would probably say: argumentative, under-active conscience, and suspicious. After that would follow clumsy, lazy, pessimistic and many other negative and unflattering adjectives. About my only positive trait is my honesty, and I only ever seem to use that when it’s inappropriate. Like when someone asks how they look. (Spoiler alert: they don’t really want to know the answer.)
By lunchtime, I’d had about five hundred phone calls and booked them all in on the computer, let a bunch of people in for appointments, and made it through half of the files (making two copies of all Tim’s info). I’d also, sadly, finished the soy coffee.
I was doing work for some guy named Panther when Tim came back. With food.
“Where’s James?”
“Went out the back way,” he answered. “How are you doing?”
“Hungry.”
He handed me one of his subs and I opened the wrapper to see what was on it. Fancy-looking salad with hummus. I took a bite, eyes widening appreciatively. This was a good sub. It had proper lettuce leaves on it – like, not just soggy iceberg. Rocket and baby spinach and that purple one you only get in top quality salads. “I got it from the cafeteria next door.”
“There’s a cafeteria?”
“Yeah. It’s adjoined to the gym.”
“Is it a private gym or can anyone use it?”
“Private. Speaking of which, do you know what’s going on with your exercise yet?”
“No. I forgot to ask Adam this morning,” I lied. I hadn’t forgotten. I’d avoided the topic.
“I’ll have to remind him then. You’re not getting out of it.”
Gee, cheers Tim. Thanks a heap.
“How nice of you.”
He grinned. “I live to serve.” He took a few more bites of his sub before growing serious. “Charlie… You know how I didn’t dob you in for reading confidential files?”
Oh, shit. “Yes?”
“And you were so grateful about that.”
“Yes?” I answered hesitantly.
“I need a hand with a job after work this afternoon. Nothing hard, just talking to a guy in a pub. Keeping him out of the way while I search his office.”
“Is that legal?”
“Talking to a guy in a pub?”
“No, searching –”
He cut me off. “From what I’ve heard about you, Charlie, you don’t worry too much about what’s legal or not. So what’s the big deal?”
He had a point, although I wondered what exactly he’d been told.
“It was just a question.”
“See ya, honey.” He walked towards the exit.
“Tim –”
The door swung shut behind him.
In the middle of the afternoon, Adam came to visit me again.
Yep. He totally had a crush on me.
“You begin fitness training tomorrow at six in the morning. Someone will pick you up from your house at that time. Be ready to jog here.”
“Jog?”
“Yes.”
I thought back to my trip to work this morning and shuddered. Tomorrow was going to be even worse. “Right.”
“When you arrive at the gym, you’ll work through a variety of exercises depending on the day, including yoga, weights, group classes and resistance training. The usual. You’ll also learn self-defence. You’ll finish at eight and have until nine to eat breakfast, shower and get to your office.”
My head was still swimming from all the talk of exercise, but the mention of breakfast cheered me up a little.
“We have women’s showers and toilet facilities and a cafeteria at the gym. Any food you buy will go on a tab and it will be taken out of your pay.”
Food. Just think about the food. Deep breaths. Everything will be OK.
“Tomorrow at six you will need to be ready in a tracksuit or other suitable clothes and runners. You’ll need to bring work clothes and a bathroom bag for the showers. There are lockers in the showers you’ll be able to use. You can leave your toiletries in there if you want.”
Showers. I liked showers. Well, I didn’t hate them. That much. Cool, so showers and food. Don’t think about the other stuff.
“You’ll be doing exercise five days a week as a compulsory element of your contract, however as a member of staff you’re welcome to use the gym at any time.” Unlikely. I wasn’t going to spend a second longer in there than necessary. “Any questions?”
Wow. Someone had given that speech a few times. He spoke so quickly that I had to really concentrate to understand what he was saying. Especially with the added distraction of that face. Ah, that face. The stuff of both my dreams and nightmares.
“Will I have one constant trainer or does it rotate?”
“It rotates. Different people have different methods of teaching and we like you to get a wide range of role models.” Role models? Yeah, whatever. Pretty sure my role models weren’t going to be people who exercised.
“Peachy.” Great. It meant I was going to be embarrassed in front of a diverse array of people.
By five o’clock I’d finished the other half of the files and answered another five hundred phone calls. Since it was time to go, I packed up my stuff (remembering my key card), ready to bolt out the door. Tim came down the corridor just as I was stepping out from behind my desk. He gave me a slow, evil smile.
“You wouldn’t be trying to sneak out on me now, would you honey?”
“Yes.”
He gave me another grin. “I admire your honesty, but it’s not going to get you out of this.”
I sighed, resigned to my fate. “What do you need me to do?”
“You’ve just got to distract an old guy for me. Nothing scary. I wouldn’t put you in danger.”
I snorted. “Bullshit.” I considered it for a moment. “Do I get paid?”
He gave me a nicer smile this time. “Yeah.”
“How much?”
He told me.
“Is what I’m wearing OK?”