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I went flying out, not bothering with the van in the back lane or the bike in the garage. I pounded across the road, cut through the park, and raced up the street. No car outside Rachel's building. No movement to be seen, in fact. The rain kept everyone indoors.
The hallway light was out. I ran in, taking the stairs two at a time. A squeal from above. The sound of scuffling.
"Rachel!" Screaming her name, I raced around a curve in the pitch dark, crashing into a wall on a small landing. Hanging on to the handrail, I felt for the steps. "Rachel!" I was moving again as another scream rent the air. Fear fuelling me, I flew upwards, navigating another curve.
Then, out of the darkness, a cry and a shape speeding at me. As I dodged instinctively, a glimpse of a white face and flaming hair had me twist back into her path.
God knows how, but as she hurtled into me, hands out in front, tumbling straight down, I plucked her out of the air before her chin hit the stone steps. The momentum and sudden extra weight had me tottering off-balance.
My foot slipped off the step below, missed the one under it completely, and then I went flying. A long, frightening split second and then I mercifully crashed into the wall, saved from disaster by the little landing.
I slid onto the floor with Rachel clasped to me. She was gasping in terror, but alive. Above us, an alarm bust into sound.
"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"H-he had a kn-knife."
She clung on to me, but as I ran my hands over her, there was no sticky blood, no warm wetness. A slit in the jacket she wore, but no damage, thank God. "You're okay."
She put her face in my neck. "Max. Ohmigod, Max."
My instinct said to give chase. But I couldn't leave her. Not alone and in the dark. And by the sound of the alarm, he was gone already. Straight out her back window.
"Trigger?" Tank, yelling at foghorn level from below.
"He went out the kitchen window."
"Fuck." Tank barrelled off.
"Come on, love." Rachel's legs were shaking so much that she couldn't stand. I picked her up. "Let's get you inside."
My eyes were adjusting, but the stairwell was deep in darkness. Carrying my girl, I took it slowly.
"Max, I feel so stupid."
"Pretend you're a princess, love. We'll have you home in a sec."
As we got to the second floor, there were more noises from downstairs.
Tank, loud and clear, "He's scarpered, the fucker. You okay?"
"Yes, but it's darker than a miner's armpit here."
Posh fuming, "Shit, if only we'd been a minute earlier," and Fynn grumping, "There's glass all over the road. He went straight through the window."
Tank again, "I should have put bars on it."
Reaching the landing, we found Rachel's bag on the ground and her door wide open thanks to one of her shoes jamming the threshold. When I put her on her feet, she reached in and flicked a switch. Light from her flat flooded the stairwell. Her doormat had hit the far wall, there were footmarks on the wall and the railing had a long, fresh score.
Rachel gazed and gulped. "He tried to push me over."
I hugged her. "But he didn't manage it. You're brave and fought back."
She sniffed a bit and admitted. "My bag got tangled in the railing." She picked it up, sighing at the metal chain that had been ripped away from the dimpled leather. "It's ruined. God, it cost a bomb."
"Sweetheart, it probably saved your life." I looked around. "Your keys must have gone over."
Tank, Fynn, and Posh appeared out of the dark. "He's gone. No sign of him anywhere."
"Maybe he dropped something in the flat." But I didn't believe it.
Then, a light from below. "Everyone okay?" Alex, with a torch.
"We're okay. Hey, look for Rachel's keys, would you? They're on the stairs somewhere."
Walking into Rachel's gave me déjà vu. The love seat had been knocked over, the rug was wrinkled in a corner and the wind blew in from the broken window in the kitchen. Thank God no dead girl and no blood.
I led Rachel to the sofa. She was not hurt, but there was a rip in her jacket. She touched her cast, saying shakily, "He had a knife. He s-said he'd c-cut my throat."
"Poor love."
"The cast. His knife hit my cast."
I hugged her. "It saved you."
The others stood by, watching silently. More déjà vu. This is how it used to be.
I slid into debrief mode. "What happened? How did he get to you?"
Her eyes were enormous. "When you texted me to come down, he was at the door."
Fynn hissed. "Jesus. He's a hacker."
Rachel was baffled. "You didn't text?"
"No, love."
She groaned. "I'm such an idiot." She pressed my hand. "I got this text saying you bought a burner because of the press fussing about Blandford."
So simple. No hacking, just a few quid and a clever message.
"It was a new number, but your picture," Rachel moaned. "He texted just as my show ended. You, I mean, he, said you had borrowed a car, to avoid the press, and because of the rain, you'd park right outside my door. So I'd not get wet."
"You didn't question it?"
"No. You said you'd been waiting forty minutes, and it was all clear." Rachel frowned. "Oh lord, he did that on purpose! I felt so guilty at keeping you waiting that I just rushed out."
He had stood outside her door, texted her, and she'd come running. It was the perfect ambush. "Did you see him, love?"
"No. He grabbed me from behind as I went to shut and lock the door."
What did he say, exactly?"
She shivered. "Filth, mostly."
"Did you recognise the voice?"
"No." She frowned. "He was whispering. I could barely hear him." Her expression cleared. "Wait! He's from around here, because he called me a bogging skank!"
"That's great, love. That will help." I cuddled her, rubbing her arms. "And the rest?"
"Nothing."
"Think, love. From the beginning. You left the flat, turned to close the door. And then?"
She closed her eyes. "It was dark. He banged me in the back of the knees. And when I almost fell, he had an arm around my neck and I saw the knife."
"That's fantastic. What kind of knife?"
"Just a blade. Pointy, sharp, but with two edges. Like on the telly."
Flick knife or stiletto.
"Shut your trap, he said, or I'll cut you." She suppressed a shiver. "I couldn't think. I should have screamed, but I was too scared."
I patted her arm. "Perfectly normal. It's shock."
The beautiful eyes lengthened. "He was groping me. That's when he said it, bogging skank. And I think he said 'where are they'. Then you were yelling."
He'd been looking for something. But what?
"He was pulling at me, trying to shove me over," Rachel said darkly. "But the strap from my bag got all tangled in the rail. That's when I came out of my funk. I kicked him," she remembered with satisfaction. "Hacked his shins. And when he half let go, I got him an elbow in the gut."
"Excellent," Alex growled.
"I was aiming for his balls," Rachel confessed.
"That's the stuff."
"No messing with our Rachel."
She revived a little, glowing as their praise flowed freely. "I was scared stiff. But when he tried to chuck me over that rail, I got mad."
"You've always had guts," Tank said warmly.
"Yeah, another woman would have fallen to pieces," Posh agreed.
"Plenty of blokes too," Fynn pointed out.
I hugged her. "You're a heroine. Proud of you, Red."
But Rachel frowned. "Max, why would he try to kill me? I'm no danger to him. I don't know who he is."
"I think he was after your keys." And because I would not lie to her. "But he tried to kill you because of me."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"He frisked you, looking for your keys. The knife was just to keep you quiet. It was only when I came on to the scene that he tried to kill you."
"He panicked?"
"I doubt it. A scared man would have run. He realised killing you would slow me down, giving him time to exit."
She swallowed. "Jesus, that's cold. What kind of monster would do such a terrible thing?"
Me, actually. But I didn't share that.
Tank knew, he was carefully avoiding catching my eye, as were Fynn and Posh. But Alex has always been practical. "Your keys weren't downstairs. Did he get them?"
"No, at least, I don't think so." Rachel frowned. "I was about to lock the door when he grabbed me."
I went straight out. The keys were not in her door or in the doorway. Most of the stairwell was in darkness. With Rachel's lights flooding her doorway and the help of Alex's torch, the problem was apparent. The lights had been smashed. Every bulb systematically destroyed.
Fynn looked up, frowning. "He must have stood on a ladder."
"He used an umbrella."
Fynn stared. "How do you know?"
"Drips on the floor. His brolly was wet."
"Inspired," Alex said warmly. "Trigger, you knock Sherlock Holmes into a cocked hat."
A re-enactment might help. Right, so he'd grabbed and pulled, and then spun her around. I mimicked her movements and found her keys halfway up the steps leading to the third floor. "Rachel, what are these for?"
She slid them out one by one. "My front door, the post box downstairs, and the downstairs door."
He'd gone to a lot of trouble to get her keys. But why? I thought it through. If he just wanted inside, he would have knifed her or thrown her down the stairs instantly. But he'd hung on to her.
I checked out the keyring. It was a simple metal R. Not space for a flash drive or any other hidden gizmo. Hmm. "Have you taken off any keys?"
Rachel shook her head. "No, this is new." She blinked. "Hang on, my old one..." She dived back inside, ransacking the top of the dresser that stood by her front door. "It's gone," she gasped. "He took my duck."
I had seen it but not taken it in. "The bowl?"
"Yes. From the RSPB. I kept my spare keys, old keys, and bits and pieces in it." Rachel slid open drawers and shut them rapidly. "It's definitely gone."
"Keys to what?"
"My old door keys, the old safe under the floor, the padlock for my bike."
I'd checked it all out. Had I missed anything?
Rachel gasped. "And to Mandy's garage."
"Garage?"
"She kept some boxes there. Old stock from her shop," Rachel said guiltily. "I completely forgot."
"There's no garage in this building."
"No. She rented it. In Seaview Towers. It's one of those closed in ones with a pull-down shutter."
I was up and on my way. "Alex, stay with Rachel. Tank, Fynn, Posh, with me."
Posh rolled his eyes. "You're not our boss anymore, Trigger." But he was up and moving. Alex shifted, frowning in warning, "Trigger-"
But I'd already heard the clunk of boots on the stairs. Bloody Grimstead, his beady eyes gleaming with malice. "We had notice of an affray."
He'd slow me down, costing me precious time.
But Rachel stepped in. "Glad you're here. I was mugged. In my own stairwell!"
Grimstead opened his mouth but didn't get a chance because Rachel had him by the arm. "Just look at this mess." Shoving him in front of her, into the kitchen, "He had a knife." She turned around and mouthed, 'go' at me.
He had a good twenty minutes on me, but I would not leave Rachel to Grimstead.
But Alex waved me off, and turned to the kitchen, exclaiming, "When we came in the front door, he went out the window."
My cousin would eat the Inspector alive if he caused my girl a moment's trouble. I hit the stairs, Tank, Fynn, and Posh on my heels. Tank's ride was outside, there was no traffic, and we blasted into Seaview Towers condo in record time, but we were too late. The door was open, boxes were strewn all over, but he was gone.
I looked up and saw the CCTV knocked off the wall, dangling in the air by a cable. That damn umbrella again. There'd be no visuals.
"Think he got what he wanted?" Fynn asked.
"No idea." There was very little in the place. A few boxes of clothes, some papers, a box of photos and an ancient bike missing a front wheel. It had all been tossed around, but it was impossible to know if anything was missing.
Tank picked through the clothes, shaking them out and piling them up. "My mum hides her jewellery in her wardrobe, folded into shirts and socks."
I watched with relief. Mandy was elfin, tiny, and the tee Tank was shaking about was made to fit a much larger body. As for eco fashion stock, there was none around.
"Hey you! What do you think you're doing?" He was bent over with arthritis, leaning on a cane, and ready to take us all on. "You don't live here."
Posh bridled. "So what?"
Tank pushed him aside. "You're quite right, sir."
Taking in Tank's girth and purposeful air, the old man paused. The cane wobbled. "I've called the police," he lied.
"Good move, sir," Tank replied. "They need to see this."
The obvious respect settled the old man. "As if they'd take an interest."
"It's a disgrace," Tank agreed. "Someone broke the CCTV and the lock. Did you see who?"
As he dealt with the pensioner, I picked through the papers. Old copies of Golf International and a stack of porn.
Fynn took the old man by the arm. "We'll walk you back, just in case he's hanging around."
Posh rolled his eyes, not realising Fynn was following my old rule: walk witnesses home, so you can always find them if you need them.
"What happens next?" Tank was at my side. He had fallen right back into being my second in command. "Want us to canvass the neighbours?"
One word from me and we'd be right back to where we were. It would be a comfort too, because it would mean easy automatic protection for Rachel. "Thanks, Tank, but it's pissing down and if anyone saw him, they won't be hanging around anymore."
"Then we'll swing by the storeroom and pick up some plywood."
Rachel was in for primo service. "Thanks."
By the time we got back to the flat, Grimstead had left. By Alex's grim mouth, the inspector had not gone easily. "The cheeky sod blamed you, then me, and finally Rachel," he grumbled. "He has no intention of investigating. I chucked him out."
"He's not fond of us." I clapped my cousin on the back. "Come on, I have an amazing bottle of Scotch that needs appreciating."
He cheered up instantly. "The flat's freezing. A drop of sunshine will do us all good."
Rachel had already tacked a shower curtain over the broken window. It took Tank and me a minute to board it up properly. I took Rachel aside. "Pack a bag, love. You're staying with me."
She didn't argue. "It is cold. Tank, when we get to the pub, can we talk a little shop? I want a proper security system. You mentioned window bars and CCTV in the hallway?"
"We'll get you the works. Family price, too."
The glorious smile beamed. "Drinks are on me tonight. The best the Lion and Unicorn offers." And then she hugged Alex, Tank, Fynn and Posh. "Thank you so much for rescuing me. You can't imagine how safe I feel with you having my back."
Alex was beautifully humble. "It was all Trigger's doing."
Rachel stood on tiptoe to kiss me. "I'll thank you properly later."
As she tripped off, Alex took in the slim back and long, sexy flaming hair. "Trigger, you're a lucky bastard," he announced. "She's too good for you."
"I'm well aware of it." I would be working the casino plumbing contract and if he hadn't found what he was after, he'd be back. "Know of anyone who wants to earn some holiday money?"
"Me," Fynn said promptly.
"Aren't you working?"
"I've four days leave left over from last year I need to use."
It was an enormous relief. Fynn was tough, smart and reliable. Rachel would be safe.
But Posh was sulky. "So the sailing is off?"
"The sea won't disappear."
Posh always holidays with his brother, they'd been clones forever, and it was obvious Posh felt left out. His sibling rivalry was rocketing in. I put a hand on his shoulder. "What about you? Are you using up days too?"
"Yes."
"If you've not made plans, I'd appreciate your help." Because Posh is often an arse, but he's my cousin and I love him. "I'd consider it a favour." In for a penny, in for a pound.
Posh glowed. "Yeah, okay."
Much to my surprise, Rachel didn't protest. I got another hug, and when we left the flat and left Alex and Posh to drive while the rest of us crossed the park, she pulled me close. "Thanks for looking after me."
"Go with whatever Tank suggests. Security is an investment."
"Yes, but Max, isn't this drawing you back in?"
"Of course not. I'm fine."
She thumped me gently on the arm. "You're big and brave, I get that. But Max, why did Alex turn up tonight? Are you back in?"
Another woman who refused to be coddled. A small part of me whined it was so much easier to take charge. Luckily, the better man in me accepted it's not the fifteenth century. "I'm plumbing for Alex, a contract that will set me up nicely. But that's the only business we're doing."
Rachel was quiet, thinking it over. "You need your family," she said softly. "They're an extension of you. But be careful, love. They'll pull you back in if they can, because they think their needs outweigh yours."
She had my back. It warmed me. Another woman might have urged me to get back in with the family, purely because of the security. But Rachel was a star: an independent woman with a head for business and a heart of gold.
I was proud to have her at my side as we entered the Lion and Unicorn and to my surprise, Mum swooped over, crying, "Rachel! Are you okay? Grimstead was here, talking nonsense about Max. But is it true? Were you attacked?"
"The bugger faked me out," Rachel admitted. "But Max rescued me. With Alex and Tank and Fynn and Posh. They're all heroes!"
Mum hugged her. "Max saved me, too. All the debts are paid off."
"I'm so happy for you!"
Bella popped up, holding a large gin in one hand. "Grimstead was here, talking crap as always. But Alex and Posh filled us in. Such a relief you're okay."
"Rachel, do you want to move?" Isa was there, too. "I've got a mate with a condo for rent in Seaview Towers. If I ask, she'll give you a short lease for a nice price."
Rachel beamed. "Thanks. Max is fussing and Tank is putting in a security system, so I'm good."
Isa laughed. "Max is fussing and you're fine with it?"
"Our brother in a snit is a pain," Bella agreed.
"He caught me in mid-air after that murderous bugger threw me down the stairs," Rachel confided.
Bella handed over her gin instantly. "This is untouched. Go on, you need this."
"Poor you," Isa agreed. "If that happened to me, I'd still be screaming."
"It's the third time he's saved me," Rachel continued.
"Come on, love. That's overdoing it a bit."
But Rachel ignored me. "Whenever I'm scared, Max turns up and fixes it. He saved me tonight, from Jaffa the other day, and when my dad was beating me, it was Max who stopped him."
Bella and Isa threw their arms around her. "Your dad beat you? We had no idea!"
"Max fixed it, back when we were kids," Rachel sniffed. "As far as I'm concerned, he walks on water."
"Definitely overdoing it, love."
But Mum ran a finger under her eyes and blinked rapidly. "Max, hang on to this woman."
"You'd better," Belle grinned. "Although Rachel is clearly bonkers."
"She's in shock," Isa agreed. "I'd take advantage if I were you, brother."
"You can joke all you like, but I'm with Rachel," Mum said.
"Well, I think it's a conspiracy. This woman promised me a drink, and here I am, dying of thirst. And Alex has hijacked my whiskey."
Rachel beamed. "I promised to treat the boys to whiskey, but how about some bubbly for us? Or are you working, Mrs Cullen?"
Mum beamed right back. "My friends call me Duchess."