Page 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘F or God’s sake!’ Robert muttered, urging his legs to go faster. His heart thundered in his chest, ready to either stutter to a stop or jump out of his throat.

Ever since Anne had died, occasional meals and a chair had been his best pals. He hadn’t gone for a walk and certainly hadn’t gone running.

He almost stumbled over a pile of bins scattered across the pavement – thrown there by the man he was after.

Robert muttered a few choice words that had the couple arguing on the street stop and stare at him. Ignoring them, he skidded into a side alley and emerged onto a busy pedestrian street.

What was it about this woman? Everything he needed from her or about her was always a chase away.

Except when they’d actually met face to face for the first time, and he’d been stupid enough to let her go.

Robert spotted the man. He was almost a block away. Damn it! Glasgow’s grid-like city centre was helpful when navigating or trying to locate a person. But it also showed you how far you were from where you needed to be.

‘Excuse me! Coming through!’ Robert shouted and wove through the groups of people out for some shopping or socialising, meandering down the road.

Robert burst past them like a fast train next to a slow one. Many leaped away from him, hurling curses his way. But most of them didn’t move, too busy in their own world.

He was getting nowhere at this pace.

Robert pulled up a map of the city centre in his head, ignoring once again his impending heart attack. If he headed right and cut across some side alleys, he might get the bastard.

But if the man went left, Robert would miss him.

‘Fuck this!’ Robert stopped, stared at the alley he could take then shook his head. That man was another rat who would return for his cheese.

Robert turned round and made his way back up the hill. He’d be sore tomorrow from all this physical exertion. But he would get that bloody address.

It took him twice as long running uphill as it had downhill. But the café he’d begun this mindless chase from still sat there, in the basement on a quieter street. Luckily for him, it meant the place wasn’t busy.

Robert nipped back in and waved at the barista, who shot him a ‘what the hell?’ look before turning back to the coffee machine. What had he done to spook her?

Robert ran a hand through his hair.

Finn had asked Robert to meet him in the café. He’d also told Robert to take the table farthest away from the door. Thirty minutes ago, Robert had walked in, noticed the solitary man sitting by the door and ignored him. But when Robert’s butt had hit the chair on the other side of the room, the man by the door had hightailed it out of the café as if his arse was on fire.

Why would he do that if he hadn’t known who Robert was? So Robert had given chase.

In his haste, the man – Robert assumed it had to be Finn – had left his laptop behind. For a techie, losing their laptop was as good as losing your wallet.

The laptop was still on the table. Robert scoffed. Oh yes, the rat would definitely return for the cheese.

In the meantime, Robert ordered himself a coffee. The barista barely said a word to him, almost cowering behind the coffee machine. He thanked her and took a seat by the door, the laptop in front of him.

Fifteen minutes later, Finn appeared. The young man saw Robert and grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Robert smirked and waved at the chair opposite his. ‘Join me, will you?’

When Robert had pictured a techie who made a living creating false IDs, he’d imagined a hoodie-wearing, seldom-showering, scrawny twenty-year-old. He hadn’t pictured a muscular, clean-shaven man wearing a button-down shirt and trousers with tattoos peeking out from his sleeves.

How on earth had Finn managed to run in office trousers? Robert was truly out of shape… and this man was a decade younger than him – though clearly not as smart.

Finn dropped into the chair opposite Robert’s, sulking. ‘I have a reputation to maintain.’

Robert raised his eyebrows. ‘How am I spoiling your reputation?’

‘You’re a cop,’ Finn spat as if Robert’s profession tasted like the sludge of coffee powder left at the bottom of a French press.

Robert narrowed his eyes. So the man had some brains; he’d sniffed out Robert’s profession without them exchanging a single word. Or Daisy had told him.

Robert studied the man. His attire was indeed unusual, especially for his line of work. If he was trying to project a professional image, Robert had a few choice words for him. ‘Do you really want to be aiding and abetting a criminal?’

Finn crossed his arms, showing more of the twisted lines of his tattoos. ‘You don’t have a warrant card. I don’t have to tell you anything.’

This would get him nowhere. Robert reached into his wallet and once again produced Nina’s portrait. He slid it across the table to Finn. ‘This woman is a killer. Do you really want to support her?’

Finn spread his hands and shrugged. ‘She’s innocent until proven guilty and all that. Besides, your pals in uniform aren’t after her. So they don’t have any evidence, and nor do you.’

‘Is that why you ran? To get away from me?’

Finn reached out to grab his laptop. ‘I don’t deal with your lot.’

Robert slapped a palm on top of the laptop, pulling it closer. ‘But you asked me to meet you here.’

‘Give it back,’ Finn hissed, his eyes now trained on Robert’s hand.

‘We’re having a conversation.’ God, when did he get so long in the tooth? He was like a fucking parent.

Finn raised his palms in surrender. ‘We’re done talking. Give my laptop back.’

Robert tapped the device’s metallic body. ‘Talk first.’

‘Okay! Okay, I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.’

Robert hadn’t been born yesterday. No way would Finn give up so easily, especially after he’d already tried to make a break for it once. Robert tightened his grip on the laptop. ‘Why did you run?’

‘I agreed to meet you as a favour to Daisy. She’s a good egg. I didn’t agree to talk to you.’

‘You are not leading me on a wild goose chase again. This is important. This woman’ – Robert leaned in, almost getting into the younger man’s face – ‘killed my wife. You need to tell me her address.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Finn,’ Robert growled.

Finn raised a hand so Robert would stop talking. ‘I can’t tell you because she contacted me the other night. She needs another ID; they’ve found her.’

‘They?’ Robert raised an eyebrow. ‘Who’s “they”?’

Finn shrugged. ‘I don’t ask. It’s none of my business. Besides, the more I know, the more I become a liability. I’m not getting myself killed over nothing.’

It made sense. People who were looking for IDs weren’t exactly on the up and up. Making IDs for teens to get into bars was illegal, but your worse enemies were the police. When you got into the high-end stuff, you’d be dealing with all kinds of crooks.

‘When are you meeting her?’ Robert probed.

‘I don’t meet my clients.’

Robert sighed. ‘You’re just making things difficult. Look, Finn, as I told you?—’

‘It’s how my business works.’ Finn raised his voice. ‘I don’t ask questions, and I don’t meet clients once they employ me. The first meeting is necessary for me to vet them, face to face. Tech is great, but it can’t tell you everything.’

‘How do you get the papers to them?’ Robert pushed.

‘I don’t do the drops. Too risky. Most of my clients are on the run. Do you really think I’d expose myself like that?’

Robert wanted to wring the man’s neck. If he created the IDs, he had to deliver them somehow. This merry walk around the bush had to end – now. If Nina got those papers, she’d get away again, and this time there was no guarantee he’d find her.

He’d never be able to live with himself if he got so close and let her slip away again. He’d been stupid before, not now.

‘How do you deliver the papers, Finn?’ Even Robert could hear the desperation in his voice. In a minute, he’d be begging, and once you begged, you lost the upper hand. But God! He was so close to finding her.

Finn had the gall to laugh. ‘What is it with you and asking the same questions over and over? You won’t trap me in a lie.’

‘I’m trying to help you.’

Finn laughed again. ‘If I let everyone who was searching for my clients “help me”, I’d be out of business. I help people get away, not help them meet their stalkers.’

‘I’m not a stalker!’ Robert shouted. The barista looked up from her phone, again shooting him a spooked look. For fuck’s sake! ‘Finn, I’m with the police.’

‘You’re an officer gone rogue. I can’t help you.’

Robert gripped the table instead of gripping Finn’s ears and smacking his face onto his beloved laptop. Robert was tempted – really, really tempted – to give Finn’s muscles a run for their money. A fight sounded satisfying.

Dickheadson came to mind. Then Cheryl’s disapproving face. No, Robert couldn’t beat up this man, no matter how annoying he was being.

He took a breath. ‘You said you judge people based on their character. I’m sure you’ve run a background check on me, asked Daisy about me. And now you’ve met me. Do I seem like a stalker?’

Finn lifted his hand and raised one finger. ‘You’re here asking me about the address of a woman you don’t know.’ Another finger went up. ‘You carry this woman’s picture in your wallet.’ Another finger. ‘You know things about this woman she hasn’t voluntarily told you.’ Another finger. ‘You have a vendetta against her. And I’m sure she’s the last thought you think before you fall asleep, the first when you wake up, and you see her in your dreams.’

Nina in his dreams. Robert didn’t want to think about his dreams or what sort of thoughts he had about Nina, or them, together.

‘I can keep going.’ Finn smirked. ‘But I’ve run out of fingers.’

Robert didn’t need Finn to list any more reasons. So okay, he was being a bit stalkerish. But stalkers were creepy and wrong. He was doing this to find justice. Those two things were completely different.

Robert retrieved Nina’s picture and stuffed it in his wallet. ‘I can deliver those documents for you, Finn. You can say I coerced you.’

‘I don’t get coerced.’

Robert looked straight into Finn’s eyes, hoping he could somehow get the other man to comply. When Finn didn’t so much as blink, Robert growled.

‘Fine, fine!’ Robert slid the laptop back to him. When the young man reached out to snatch it away, Robert pressed his palm on the gadget, holding it in place. ‘Oh, Finn, but you forget: I have friends in the right places. If I give them a call and your name, how would that affect your wee business?’

Finn paused, then muttered a curse.

‘Aye, and I’m sure you’ve already got a sheet my pals in uniform can add to.’

‘Fuck you!’ Finn growled. ‘Fine! The day after tomorrow, on Argyle Street…’

Robert surrendered the laptop and pulled out his notepad. Twenty-four hours and he’d have Nina.