THE NEXT MORNING, Paul walked into the kitchen as Angie buttered a piece of toast. He looked hung over, his eyes bloodshot. “Dany didn’t come home last night.”
A frisson of fear made her drop the knife.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine.” He sank down on a stool next to her with a resigned sigh. “She’s stayed out all night before. God knows what she gets up to.”
“It was too late to make the trip, I expect.” She shut her mouth before she snapped at him her patience and understanding worn thin. He’d been oafish last night. She disliked the way he talked about Dany behind her back. Recalling their sad conversation late that night, it occurred to her that Dany might want to make Paul jealous.
Angie wanted Paul to grow a spine. If he still loved her he should fight for her. At this moment, he looked too hungover. But Dany not coming home sent a prickle of unease through her. Picking up her phone she texted her sister, asking her if everything was okay. Then she filled the kettle. “Would you like some coffee, Paul?”
“Thanks.”
She moved around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboard doors, unable to center herself. Her mind seemed to have gone blank. She found the coffee beans and steadied herself, pouring some into the grinder, turning the coffee making into a calming ritual.
Angie’s phone sprung to life on the kitchen table with a vibrating beep. She snatched it up. “It’s Dany,” she said with relief. “She’s fine and on her way home.”
Paul nodded, his face devoid of emotion. “I’m leaving shortly. I need to be on my own to think. Just as soon as I can leave the practice in the hands of the locum.”
“Where will you go?”
“North. My sister Jilly lives in Forster now. I won’t leave you stranded. You’ll have the car. I’ll take my bike.”
Angie searched his face, unable to discern his thoughts. “You’ll need to be contactable.”
“I will be.” He sighed. “You think I’m running away?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” He raked his hands through his hair. The action was so violent; she almost expected tufts of hair to come away in his fingers. If only he could transfer that helpless rage into more positive action.
She prayed that after Dany paid the money to this Gary Kavanagh, things might quieten down. But that was pie-in-the-sky stuff. There was much more to this that she didn’t understand. “Paul, this business with the police…the body in the car, it needs to be resolved. The police won’t drop it.”
“What has Dany told you?”
“About Kavanagh. The money she owes,” she said deciding it was time to put it all on the table. “Dany does need your support.”
“Okay. I’ll think about it.” He kept his eyes on his hands. “She doesn’t want me, Angie.”
Angie wasn’t sure that was true.
A scrunch of gravel on the driveway, made Angie run out onto the terrace. “It’s Dany, in a taxi,” she said returning, as the tightness in her chest eased.
The front door slammed and Dany’s high-heeled shoes clicked across the hall. “Hello, you two.” She walked into the kitchen with a guileless smile. “I see you’re wearing the clothes I bought. You do look nice, Angel.”
Her breezy attitude made Angie scowl. “Why didn’t you come home last night?”
“Really, Angel. You sound like Gran.”
“Have you forgotten the danger you’re in?” Angie said forcibly. “The older you get, the worse you behave.”
“Oh, come on. I think I’ve behaved consistently badly all my life.” Dany put her arm around her. She smelled of her favorite perfume, cigarette smoke, and alcohol.
“You’ll get no argument from me this morning.” Angie threw off Dany’s arm and went to the door. She wished Paul would say something, assert himself, but if he did she didn’t hear him as she escaped up the stairs to her bedroom.
Wise to leave them be. She would borrow Paul’s car seeing as he had no need of it. Go down to Newport and have lunch in one of those nice cafés. She had a thought and before she could change her mind, punched out Nick’s number. It was just lunch, she told herself as it rang. It wasn’t fun to eat alone.
“I was pleasantly surprised when you called me.” Over the café table, Nick appraised her pale blue jeans and beige shirt with a lift of his dark brows. “You’re dressed more like your sister today. Suits you, although I had no complaints with the old version.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She was checking him out too. “You’ll be relieved to know, I approve of your tie.” Mustard yellow and white stripes. A safe choice. “You work on a Sunday?”
“No rest for the wicked,” he said and gave her a smile that sent her pulses racing.
She had intended to pry some information from him, but doubted that would work. Besides, he could then do the same to her. She rested her forearms on the table and smiled at him, finding she just wanted to enjoy herself.
With an answering smile, Nick selected an olive and popped it into his mouth. “How are things up at the house? I expected you might have some news.”
Her smile faded. Was that why he accepted her lunch invitation? She shook her head. “Dany’s exhibition has been a great success. It finishes up today and already most of the paintings have sold.”
“That is good news. You don’t look too happy, though.”
“About the exhibition? I’m thrilled for her.”
His blue eyes narrowed speculatively. “But…?”
“Dany and Paul are having a few marital problems.” She drew in a breath and wondered why she was telling him this. She wouldn’t utter a word to anyone else. Was it because cops were good listeners? Or was it because she felt so alone and had to speak to someone.
“And you feel like piggy in the middle?”
She laughed and eased her shoulders, determined to shut up on the subject. “No. But if I don’t go back to Hong Kong soon, I won’t have a job. I hate the idea of going until this business is cleared up though.”
He gazed at her his blue eyes soft. “What business?”
She swallowed. “My sister’s accident, I mean.”
“Ah.” He cocked his head. “For a moment, there I thought you might mean us.”
She wished her breath would slow. She wished she didn’t find him so attractive. Right now, she wanted to curl up in his lap. She managed not to smile. “There is no us.”
“Well, you rang me,” he said, amusement pulling up the corners of his mouth.
Did she believe it herself? “Can’t be, when I’m going back to Hong Kong any day.” She drew her gaze away from his mouth.
“I’m sure we could work around that.”
She laughed. “I don’t see how.”
“Well, you’re not as creative as I am.”
More sexual innuendo. The man was a master at it. Before she was tempted to play his game, she changed the subject. “Nothing new in the case?”
“Just don’t plan on leaving quite yet.”
Her ribcage tightened. “Is there a good reason why I shouldn’t?”
Nick rubbed at his square jaw. “This is far from over Angie. You know that.”
She did, that was the trouble. Angie felt cold despite the warm sun. The maneuvering she was forced to adopt made her stomach turn somersaults.
“Trying to solve a puzzle when important clues are withheld is very difficult.”
“A puzzle?” she asked, trying to lead the conversation away from Dany. “Is that a technical term?”
“Behind closed doors, police choose more colorful metaphors when we can’t crack a case.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He shifted in his seat and looked at her intently. “All I can say Angie, is that this is getting complicated. I suspect your sister is in it up to her pretty neck.”
Her stomach did another revolution and any thought of eating vanished. She put down her knife and fork and pushed her plate of Nicoise Salad away. “But you don’t have much to go on.”
“We know more than I can tell you at this point.”
What did that mean? She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. Hating Dany’s deception, she could add nothing. But Nick was clearly affording her sister some time. She wondered if she was the reason. She felt a flash of shame that her sister was wasting his time.
He stared at her plate. “No good?”
“It’s delicious. I find I’m not hungry.” She smiled. “You eat fast. Would you like it?” She pushed the plate over to him.
Nick grinned. “You learn to eat fast when you’re surrounded by a dozen cousins, as a kid.” He stabbed his fork into a piece of boiled egg. “So, your sister has still not told you what happened?”
“She will when she can.” She tidied her napkin, afraid to meet his sharp blue gaze. She was an appalling liar, and she hated lying to this man.
“Nick, I’m sorry…”
“Sorry for what? Your sister losing her memory?”
When she did get the courage to look, a quizzical gleam lit his eyes. Nick had noted that she knew more than she was letting on. She took a gulp of water, her throat tight. He finished the remnants of her plate and put his cutlery together. Needing to leave, she pushed back her chair and pulled her wallet from her bag. “I’d better go. Thanks for your company.”
“Angie, I’ll get the bill. Wait. Don’t go off half-cocked.”
Nick stood looking down on her. How tall he was. His shirt was tight enough to expose a well-muscled physique. She wanted to fall into his strong arms and appeal for help. She bit her lip. “Thanks, but you were my guest.” She tucked some notes under the salt shaker and made for the door.
“Be careful, Angie,” he called after her.
She turned and walked back to him. “Why? Why should I be careful?”
She tried to read something into his warning, but he wasn’t forthcoming.
“You have my number. Ring if you need me.”
Angie hurried away. She wasn’t going to do this. She didn’t want to grow to care for him, to rely upon him. She was perfectly okay the way things were.