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The sun was peeking over the horizon, the birds in the park were singing, and it was too early for traffic. I was in bed, with an armful of luscious girl. It was a perfect moment of happiness.
As I stroked the long soft hair, she stirred. "Grfitwit." Eyes shut firmly, she threw an arm around me and hid her face against my chest. "Shjwif, Max."
"It's six thirty."
She sat up, stretching luxuriously. "Already?"
"Coffee? I'm walking you to your door. Fynn will meet us there."
She kissed me on the nose. "You take such care of me."
"Speaking of caring, I don't have a yoga mat. Amazingly, I do have an idea for a workout."
The jade eyes sparkled. "Is that so?"
She giggled, and we slid back down under the sheets. Definitely another moment of perfect happiness. Well, more than a moment.
Strolling across the park, enjoying a rare ray of British sunshine, Rachel took my hand. "Thanks, Max. You make me feel so safe." She looked around. "With all these trees, and the school yobs hanging out by the benches, I always go the long way round."
It made me feel good but also sad. It's crazy that women can't go for a walk without being harassed. In England, for God's sake.
But Rachel was on another tack entirely. "I feel awful for saying this," the words came out in a rush. "But your family just blew me away. They were so sweet!"
It warmed me.
"We've been hi-and-bye the last few years," Rachel burbled on. "But Alex, Fynn, Posh and Tank were so kind about me being attacked, and then in the pub, Sean was really caring and so were Bella and Isa. I guess all the stories were just rubbish."
Oh hell. My heart stood still.
Rachel didn't have a clue. She tugged me to a halt and looked straight up into my eyes, not guessing at the turmoil within. "A tiny bit of me was afraid of you." She swallowed nervously. "Dad could be sweet when he was off the sauce. But when he hit the bottle, he'd have these rages. He'd just flip."
My heart went out to her.
"You're not like that, but a little bit of me has been remembering," Rachel confessed. "I know you've been helping me, and it's totally not fair, but there are these crazy stories about you."
The Sinclairs. I waited for the axe to fall.
Her hand pressed mine. "There was this insane rumour that you'd taken out twenty gangsters from London. And got the Bridgeton Mob arrested in some cunning trap."
No mention of my shame.
"I won't ask you about it," Rachel said softly. "The Bridgeton Mob were a nasty bunch, and they probably got what they deserved."
That was true.
"You did what you had to. You're not like my dad."
Also true. He was a nasty drunk. I was much worse.
"You'd never hurt a woman."
It was true. I would never raise my hand to a woman, drunk or sober. It's probably the only sin I've not committed.
"Seeing you with your family drove it home that you're a softie," Rachel sighed.
Deflection came naturally. "Not around you, love. It's wood all the way."
She giggled and kissed me again. "You're the sweetest. I feel so good around you. It's like being enveloped by teddy bears."
I was getting away with it. Relief flooded me. Call me a coward, but I didn't want to go there. My gut told me that Rachel's trust wouldn't survive if she saw my dark side.
In the distance, the St Peter's bell tolled. Hearing it, Rachel stiffened. "Ohmigosh, is that the time?" Then, tugging my hand. "Come on, I have to White Rabbit!"
We ran all the way, with Rachel turning pink and gasping as we approached her stairwell. "Why. Can't. Bodies. Be. Fit?" she moaned. "I lift weights. I stretch. I plank. Why can't I run?"
The vestibule was empty, all the lights blazing. "Different muscle groups. You should cross-train."
"You're not even breathing fast. Max, I think I hate you a little."
Fynn appeared above us, hanging over the balustrade, dressed in camo and a sleeveless tank top, arms rippling with muscle. "Brilliant. Want to date me? I'm a hopeless pudding."
Rachel beamed and then shot me a hesitant glance. I manned up immediately. "Cousin, let me remind you that puddings are whipped."
"Bring it on," Fynn shot back. "Rachel's worth it."
Her delighted sparkle made me happy. And when Tank pitched up two minutes later, I was even happier.
Most unusually, he had ditched his ancient jeans and football tee for the regular Majestic Hotel monogrammed outfit. He was also loaded with gear. "Bars, panic buttons and CCTV," he announced. "We'll do the entire building."
"Uhm, how much will that set me back?" Rachel worried.
"Not much. You pay for the bars and the buttons inside, but the landlord will pay for CCTV."
Rachel blinked. "Really?"
Tank grinned. "Your building is owned by a shell company. Alex is your landlord."
"The jammy bugger! He never let on. And there's me, writing letters to a solicitor every time the loo leaks."
"Don't tell," Tank cautioned.
Rachel grinned. "Cross my heart, seeing he's wiring us up for free." Her smile widened. "Hey, want to guest on my show?"
Tank grinned. "Alex was just saying that would be a good crossover. And you can plug you being emcee for the Miss Ringmere talent contest next month."
Which explained the uniform. Alex was far-sighted, as usual.
I wondered if Rachel felt obligated. But she was already switching on lights and closing curtains. "Word about the attack has gone around like wildfire and people love a bit of horror. We may as well make hay."
After that, I gave Fynn his orders. "Stay inside at all times. Keep out of camera range, but never let her out of your sight. Deal with anyone who knocks without opening the door. Send packages and deliveries to Sara for safekeeping. And no popping out."
Fynn nodded. "Trigger, I have done this before, remember?"
"I know, but -"
"She's special. I know. I swear, I'll not let anyone get to her."
"When is Posh coming?"
Fynn read me easily. "He's solid. We've not forgotten how to do this." He put an arm around me. "We check in every hour, I promise."
She was in her own place, guarded and safe, and I had work to do. Thankfully, my mind was taken straight off my worries because I ran into Alex at the Majestic's service entrance.
"Trigger, thank God you're here." He dragged me inside, "We've got a broken pipe on the twenty-fourth floor. The bathroom is awash. If we're not quick, it's going to flood the suite below."
"Shit."
And shit was the right word. The suite was wrecked, covered in broken furniture and debris.
The bathroom was a disaster too, with the toilet tank pulled out from the wall and the supply valve smashed. Water gushed out of the wall. Thankfully, maintenance had fitted on an emergency sleeve that fed most of the water into the bath, but the spillage and backflow was a bitch.
"Why haven't you switched off the water?"
"We can't. The contractor who put in the new pipes, forgot to leave us documentation," Alex moaned. "We've been all over the roof, but there are no switches anywhere."
It's a common mistake, because the water tower is on the roof, people go there. But the water is pumped up from the ground and the tank up top is there for pressurisation and distribution. All the controls are where the action is: on the ground.
I made straight for the basement, found the newly installed smart water system and switched off the pump. By the time I got back upstairs, the floor had been mopped clean and housekeeping was clearing debris from the suite.
Alex was taking photos. "Musicians," he informed me matter-of-factly.
"Idiots."
"Trashing hotel suites is cheaper than buying advertising."
If there's money to be made, my cousin is on it. "What are you charging them?"
"Half the costs of taking out full-time pages in the yellow press." Alex grinned. "And they get the oldest suite. This one was due for an upgrade."
Twistier than corkscrews, my cousin.
Alex snapped closeups of the smashed bathroom mirror. "I've sent them over to Bonnington. The Winslow Cup is on next week and Rex is looking for some extra coverage."
"Do you really want to be encouraging this?"
"Says the man who pisses off the police and the mayor." Alex tucked away the camera but stuck around. He had something on his mind, and as soon as I got to work, he shut the bathroom door and got to it. "DeVere is hopping mad."
"Yes."
"We want the mayor on our side."
His Lordship needed this to happen. In a few years, DeVere would help us take out the Razors. And no matter how matters stood, I am a Cullen. "Throw me under the bus, Alex."
He grinned. "Did that first thing. But if you're not careful, Grimstead will do his damndest to fit you up."
"I'll be careful."
"Are you closing in on the bastard?"
"No."
"Fuck." Alex leaned against the door. "What's the next step?"
"I fix this and then I look at the rose garden sprinkler system."
"You're not going to double-check alibis and chase down connections?"
"Nope."
Alex was torn between acting cool and curiosity. But his need to know quickly got the better of him. "What are you up to?"
The cowboy plumber had superglued the pipe in place. I got out a hammer. "He killed the leads I found. That means he's watching, and he's close." A good whack broke the pipe off. "I'm not risking anyone else being iced."
"You're letting him get away with it?" Alex asked incredulously.
"No. Seeing he's after something, he'll come to me."
My cousin thought it over. "What if he found it last night?"
"Unlikely. He had only seconds with Rachel." My heart pounded at the memory. Thank God I got there on time. "And that storage unit wasn't Mandy's."
Alex's mouth dropped open. "It's not? It's in her name."
As I removed a piece of pipe, a chunk of plaster came loose. The lousy workmanship meant we'd need to replace the tiles and part of the wall. "There's damp in this wall. You hired a crap plumber, cousin."
"He was cheap," Alex shrugged. "What do you mean, that wasn't her stuff?"
"Keep your voice down." I was aware the hoovering next door had stopped. "There was no fashion house stock, the clothes that were there were way too big for Mandy, and women don't keep stacks of porn."
"She might have sold the stock, lost weight and posed for magazines."
"She'd have to shrink six inches and have a passion for golf, too." I shifted the floor flange. "He struck out last night. Twice."
Alex was thinking. "I guess she stored furniture, sold it, and moved on. But why did she have the key?"
"Seaview Towers is a class act. They put in a new lock and key at the start of every lease."
Alex nodded. "That's why he had to break the lock."
"Exactly."
As the toilet lifted out sweetly, Alex moved away. "You make that look so easy."
"It is, if you do it right." The tank was glued to the wall, too. "This job was a mess."
"Just wait till you see the sprinkler system," Alex grinned. "But seriously, if he didn't get it, he'll try again?"
"I hope so." The hoovering had definitely stopped. "Open the door, would you?"
Alex stepped aside, "Sure."
I raised my voice, "It's a shame, but I reckon he's going to get away with it. It's not like I can do a door-to-door inquiry, is it?"
Alex picked up the ball beautifully. "Like I said, Grimstead is paid to solve crime. Let him do it."
"I guess you're right. And I have money to make. The rent won't pay itself."
Both of us were aware of the ears on strings in the suite. Anything we said would be all over the Majestic in minutes and around town within hours.
"I've got my own life too," I was loud. "I'm taking Rachel to the Black Olive tonight. And tomorrow evening I'm taking her on a sunset cruise and supper. Quentin is lending me his boat."
"Excellent. The Princess is always available too." Alex looked like butter wouldn't melt. "His Lordship is so happy you're home again. He told me you're to have use of all the facilities."
The bugger. Not a word out of place, but the staff think I was back on board.
"Well, I see you've got it all under control." Alex got out while the going was good. "See you later, cousin." And before I could stop him, he exited with a wave. "Glad to have you back."
Self-control prevented me from lobbing a chunk of plaster after him. Then, as I checked for leaks, I decided a bit of gossip would be helpful. If my target thought I was occupied with Cullen business, he might let his guard down.
I hoped so, because hanging back was killing me. I'm a hunter, so I was dying to be out and about, chasing up leads, grilling witnesses, and shaking up the town. But my head told me that setting a trap was the way to go. Making him come to me on my terms was the smart thing to do.
Whether it would work was a tossup. He was a skilled blackmailer and cunning enough to slip under my net and have a go at Rachel. He might sense it was a trap. I could only hope he was so desperate to get his hands on whatever he was after, that he'd try his luck.
"Trigger!" My cousin Sorcha hugged me. "Gosh, it's great to see you back."
Sorcha had a degree in design. "Hello, love. Are you doing up the suite?"
"Yes, isn't it fun? Alex says I have a free hand as long as I stick to the budget." But Sorcha wasn't her usual bubbly self. She took me by the arm, whispering, "Can I have a word?"
It was the usual thing: a swipe right, an okay cup of coffee, a drunken night out, and now the bloke wasn't taking no for an answer.
Sorcha flipped back a mane of blonde hair. "It was just a one-night stand, but the bloke is going full-on 'You' on me."
I missed the pop culture reference but got the message. "Is he threatening you or just hanging around?"
Sorcha chewed her lip. "He's demanding I pay him for the money he's invested in me."
Just when you thought you couldn't be surprised anymore. "Run that by me again?"
Sorcha grinned. "We split the dinner tab, but he says he bought a new outfit to impress me. He wants five hundred quid for that, plus another thou for my reneging on our contract."
"Your what?!"
She fell apart, laughing. "I know! But seriously, Trigger, he says that going out with him and shagging him once means I've signed up for life. And as I won't play anymore, he wants damages."
The depths some types go to. "Does he know you're a Cullen?"
"He's from London. He's temping at the college."
"Give me his contact and his picture. I'll tell him to knock it off."
She hugged me. "Thanks. God, I'm so glad you're back."
As she flitted off, one of the housekeeping staff buttonholed me. "Hey Trigger, I was wondering, could you look into staff parking security?" She rattled on nervously. "They've moved us to the outside car park. I don't mind the walk, but a few of the drunks shelter there at night. One has the DTs, and he scares me."
"Have you told Tank?"
"He's never around. And I don't want to put it in the chat group. The second you complain about drunks, there's some berk virtue signalling."
She was young and shaking with nerves. "Okay, love. I'll see to it."
By the time I got my gear together and went off to check the sprinkler system, two housekeeping staff, one sous chef, and one security guard had waylaid me to ask for help. Crossing the lobby, a lean blonde waved, "Trigger, hi!"
Her name escaped me. "Hello, love. You're looking great." I spotted dark roots. "Love the hair." Picturing her as a brunette brought it back. Millie Dean, one of the working girls from the bar and casino.
"Blondes have more fun." She hugged me. "It's good to see you. We miss you!"
I thought she was going to ask me for something, but the boot was on the other foot.
"I heard you were looking into Mandy Owens’ murder." She had me by the arm and murmured. To the crowd in the lobby, a glam blonde was chatting up a potential customer. "Did you know she grew up in care?"
"Yes."
"I did too."
Score. An informant falling right into my lap. I put an arm around her, whispering, "You have information?"
Millie whispered, "Rachel never knew, but when Mandy was a kid, she made extra cash by picking up blokes outside the Spinnaker."
It didn't surprise me. "She was in with the Razors?"
"I don't know about that, but she would do the nasty and have her mate film them."
Bingo. A blackmail racket. "Who?"
"She never said exactly," Millie whispered. "But one of the punters snitched to her caseworker."
This was gold. This was the information that would put it together. "Intan Sari?"
"Yeah. She was too scared to report, but she got Mandy moved to a family in Newcastle."
Coincidences can happen, but they're rare. My gut told me this was the man.
Millie leaned into me. "I ran into Mandy after she started camming. We were in the Bedraggled Duck, and I was pixilated. I was rambling away, reliving the past, and I asked her about it. She got the wind up. Told me it was a long ago, and I should forget about it."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. She said he'd moved onwards and upwards." Millie hesitated. "I thought she meant he was in a gang. But now I'm thinking that is unlikely. If he was a Razor, he'd be managing her. I mean, villains don't let go."
That brought back memories. The last time I'd seen Millie, she'd had issues of her own. "Speaking of which, I hope your ex isn't giving you trouble?"
Millie grinned. "Trigger, when you sort someone out, he stays sorted."
I blessed myself. Helping her had brought me this amazing bit of intelligence. "So, an ex-Razor, huh?"
Millie nodded. "I was thinking it over all night. That social worker, Intan Sari, wouldn't be scared of a kid, so the bloke had to have connections."
A young thug who'd started with the Razors and then gone legit. "How old were they when this happened?"
Millie frowned. "I think Mandy was about fourteen, but I've no idea about him."
It was enough. "Millie, love. This is going to help me nail it." Instantly, a pang of fear ran through me. "How would you like a trip to London? Or Paris?"
She hugged me spontaneously. "You are so sweet, Trigger. But there's a convention arriving today and I'm going to make a fortune."
"Mandy's bloke killed her, the caseworker and an old lady."
"Right, but I'm in and out of the sack with strangers every day," she pointed out. "If he turns up, I'll spot him."
All the working girls think they can spot a bad one. It's one of the lies they comfort themselves with. They do it because they don't want to admit to the fact that monsters survive because they are adept at disguise.
I would not repay Millie by destroying her peace of mind. "You use a room next to Tank's office, and I will have him put a man on the floor camera. You've got your rape alarm?"
"One hundred and thirty decibels," she said promptly. "Louder than a jet plane and guaranteed to put a nasty bugger off his stride."
Quoting my own words back to me. I had to smile. "Let me help you get that room confirmed."
The brilliant eyes narrowed and lengthened. "We could try out the bed."
"Sweetheart, you'll never know what it cost me to say no." It felt weird saying it. Exciting and something else. "But I'm seeing someone." Pride, that was it. And joy.
Millie sighed. "Lucky Rachel." She hooked her arm in mine. "Promise that if that changes, you'll look me up?"
"In a heartbeat."
Cousin Jessie was at the hospitality desk, and so fixing up the room was easy. As a thank you, I paid for it. "Two days and then you go home and stay home, okay? And no talking about this."
"Thanks, Trigger! Mum's the word."
"Remember, he's a dangerous nut. A killer."
"I miss having you around. Tank is okay, but he's not like you." Millie hugged me again. "See you soon, love. And if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
She went dancing off, blowing kisses and no doubt pumped at all the money she was about to make. I checked my phone, seeing reassuring messages from Fynn. Even better, Rachel was happy and busy showing off her yoga poses for an admiring audience.
The hunt was on again. I was after an ex-Razor or an affiliate. Adding it all up, I needed a man who'd been in the thick of it ten to twelve years earlier. A tart blackmailing punters was a regular occurrence, but someone would remember. It was just a matter of figuring out who.
Back then, Masher had been a runner for a pusher in Sunnyside. There was no point in talking to him, though. If he had known about Mandy's past, he would have been on her like a bee on honey. As Millie said, villains don't let go.
As Mandy had worked without interference, none of the Razors were on to her background. Although we Cullens don't stoop to strong-arming working girls, it was a foregone conclusion that none of the clan were aware of her past, either. If they had been, they would have told me.
So who might remember that far back? At the time, I was starting out on my apprenticeship, going to college in Leeds. My cousins had been in training too. We Cullens have always valued education. But Alex was ten years older than us and already working for His Lordship.
On impulse, I dropped by Alex's office. "Know of any Razors who've left and gone straight?"
He blinked, that sharp mind flicking into gear. "Not offhand."
"What about Razors who were around ten years ago who are currently banged up?"
"That's a good question. I'd say dozens. Grimstead packs them in regularly." Alex pushed a pile of papers out of the way. "You've got a lead, Trigger?"
I told him all about it.
"I get why you want to know about ex-members who've gone mainstream. Obviously that is the man you're looking for. But why are you after jailbirds?"
"They might have known Mandy back in the day."
Alex nodded. "Right, so old-timers who've been out of circulation."
"Mandy came back to Ringmere before the pandemic and she's been camming since her shop closed down. But as Masher doesn't know about her past, any of his crew who knew her will have been in jail for two years or more."
Alex frowned. "I can't think of anyone offhand who fits the bill. They're usually in and out in a few months."
"Really? Even though they're in with the Zetas?"
Alex laughed. "Trigger, that means they're even less likely to do time."
"Backhanders to plods to vanish the evidence?"
"That, and ace lawyers. The Zetas are pros."
It worried me, but I reminded myself that His Lordship was on it. In a year or two, DeVere would help us Cullens zone the enemy out of existence.
Alex drummed a thoughtful tattoo on the desk. "Pretty soon we'll need to do something about them."
His Lordship hadn't shared his plan with Alex. The revelation astonished me, but I kept my trap shut. If our grandfather hadn't shared, there was a reason for it. I'd not mess up his strategy.
Aware of my cousin's eye on me, I got it together. "You'll fix it, Alex. In the meantime, keep this conversation under your hat."
"Loose lips," Alex agreed. Then, with a grin, "You'll fix it, Trigger."
Again, physical labour would help me think it through. I went to the rose garden. The sprinkler system was wrecked, literally falling apart, and digging up the pipes without totally trashing the turf kept my hands occupied while my mind worked over the facts.
Millie's information would help me identify my man, but how to go about leveraging it? Feeling as though I was on the cusp of a breakthrough was frustrating. I was dying to dive into action.
A spray of muddy water hit me in the face as my phone rang. I was still wiping my eyes when a text flew in. Trouble. Heart thudding, I peered at it. Thank God, it wasn't Fynn or Posh. Rachel was safe.
Donovan had simply texted, call me.
I dashed away the mud that plastered my face and rang him.
"Trigger," the lawyer sounded uncharacteristically harassed. "Thank you for your prompt response."
It was unlikely anyone was dead. But there was the sound of muffled shouting in the background. "What's happened?"
"It's too complicated to explain on the phone."
He was concerned about bugs or there was an audience listening in. "We'd be obliged if you could drop in for a chat. At your convenience, of course."
More muffled yelling and then DeVere came on. "Cullen, get over here, ASAP."
Our dear mayor sounded hot and bothered. My excitement bubbled. This was more information. I was forging ahead. "Sure, where's here?"
"Goddam it, where do you think? My office!"
I heard Donovan's plaintive, "Lucian, I really don't think this is a good idea" in the background. Yes, definitely trouble. "I'm on my way."