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CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

‘I don’t like this.’ Robert went to comb a hand through his hair.

Daisy swatted it away. ‘Don’t spoil my handiwork.’

Her ‘handiwork’ had entailed ruffling his hair, slapping his right cheek and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Robert liked his get-up as much as he liked where they were headed.

‘You’re not going to pass as a john, even with all this. If you set your hair back in place, you’ll stick out as a cop before you step out of this car.’ Daisy tugged at his collar. ‘Go on.’

If they’d had any other option, Robert would have steered Daisy as far away from this place as he humanly could. She’d sauntered through many such alleys, done this dance too many times even if he hadn’t witnessed it. Hell, he didn’t want to see it.

Criminals didn’t give a hoot about his preferences, though.

Robert huffed. ‘Aren’t you coming?’

Daisy snorted. ‘The last thing you need is me coming with you. The lady at the reception is a… pal.’

Now Robert did run a hand through his hair, dislodging the part he’d smoothed out. Aye, for this op, he had to skate close to Daisy’s world, and Daisy… she had many friends in this profession. Something about hard lives and fear of the law glued people together like nothing else.

Robert nodded at Daisy and stepped out of the car.

Their destination, according to Daisy, sat one street over. While he’d wanted to park in front of the establishment, Daisy had urged him to play the part and refrain from ploughing through the front door asking for Candace Matthews, the woman she’d tasked him to find.

Robert turned his coat collar up so his face remained obstructed from pesky eyes. To anyone else, he’d be a man shielding himself from the drizzling rain.

He needn’t have bothered, though. When he jumped over a puddle to cross the road, no car came at him. In fact, apart from the misty rain, nothing stirred. Perhaps the weather had turned people away, though the state of the street didn’t appear all that inviting to passers-by – the cars parked alongside the road had seen better days, and that random tarp-covered boat with weeds sticking out of it did not belong kerbside.

Whatever the reason this street was all but abandoned, the scant traffic served his purpose. The fewer people, the easier it would be to spot Candace.

He hurried along the pavement, passing a few dark alleys. A flash of sequins in the darkness warned him that the employees of the Drum Buck Arms worked their business outside the establishment, too.

Robert hissed, turning his face away from the alley. That this was a last resort for some people grated on his nerves. In a world where we had machines that could think and spaceships that flew close to the sun, surely humans had enough to help those who had no one on their side.

When he reached the end of the road – a spot the streetlights didn’t reach – Robert paused. On his left, a nondescript wooden door announced he’d found his destination, though from the state of the door – unpolished, with graffiti etched on it – no one looking to share a few pints with pals would drop in here. Well, no one could even find this place, sitting as far away from the hubbub of the High Street as it did. Still, Robert wondered if anyone could even read those faded words scrawled just below the top of the doorframe – ‘Drum Buc Arms’. Aye, the ‘K’ had succumbed to the weather’s incessant abuse.

Robert climbed the stairs, placed his hand on the knob and gave it a yank. The door rattled on its hinges but didn’t swing open. Urgh, surely they weren’t closed? Wasn’t this the best time for them to stay?—?

A scraping from behind him alerted Robert to someone loitering in the alley. His instincts alert, he ran all the possibilities in his mind. Was he being set up? Had there been someone in the alley besides him? Had he been followed?

Robert faded into the shadows the door and the wall created, partially to keep from startling the person and partially to catch a potential attacker by surprise.

Crack! Gasp!

Then something heavy crashed to the ground. A second later, a smothered feminine voice groaned, ‘Ouch.’

Robert took a small step forward and peered around the wall. A woman lay on the ground, next to what he could only assume was a string of torn curtains. With no explanation as to where she’d come from, Robert looked around. When he still didn’t find a source, he looked up and saw an ajar window on the first floor. Had she literally escaped through a window Rapunzel style?

He cleared his throat to let her know he was there. Being a cop, Robert had dealt with his share of victims. He’d also learned never to rush in and help, not without letting them know who you were and that you weren’t going to hurt them.

‘Er, are you alright?’

The woman leaped up so hastily, her feet got tangled and she tripped. This time, Robert grabbed her arms and steadied her.

Blond hair covered her face, and she wore a low-cut blouse, a tight skirt and five-inch heels. Robert wondered if she’d ever find her balance on those. Still, when she shoved at his chest, he stepped away. ‘I’m sorry, I thought you needed?—’

Another shove had Robert stumbling back. ‘I was just trying to help.’

‘Well, you can quit it. And shush!’ Shaking her hair away from her eyes, she balled up the curtains.

‘Did you climb out the window?’

This time she turned blazing eyes on him. For all her noises of strength, her face appeared delicate, petite enough to make him question if she was even old enough to be hanging out in a place like this legally.

She snarled, ‘You’re one of them.’

When she continued to tighten the curtains around her hands –probably to fling them at him – Robert held up his hands. Daisy had given him a brief description of Candace Matthews – Daisy’s age with blond hair. ‘Candace? Candace Matthews? Daisy sent me here.’

Now she paused in her attempts to squash the fabric into a ball. ‘What have you done to my pal? Your lot’s meant to protect us, but a fucking load of good that does us!’

What? Had Daisy forgotten to mention her friend was off her head?

‘Look, I just want to talk. I have a few questions.’

Candace stared up at the window she’d jumped from. ‘I’ll only speak if Daisy’s there. And I’m not talking here. Bye.’

When she turned and headed towards where the road ended, Robert followed. ‘Look, Daisy’s waiting on the High Street. Why don’t we head there?’

Candace whirled round, eyes now narrowed in curiosity as well as anger. ‘How do I know you’re not with him?’

Robert shrugged. Aye, the woman had a screw loose. ‘With whom?’

Right then, from the very window Candace had jumped from, a male voice shouted, ‘Fucking hell! Where are you?’

Candace gasped, ducking behind a car. ‘Him!’

Not wanting to get caught lurking in this street, Robert followed Candace’s lead. From his spot behind the car, he could see half of the window. Someone had switched on a lamp. Robert assumed it was part of the ‘mood lighting’ package the lodge offered. Or perhaps each room only had one lamp. A brighter light would only draw attention to the patches of mould on the ceiling – evidence of which he could see from down here.

Then the patch of mould vanished, and in its place a silhouette appeared. Of course, from the ground floor, he could only see the person’s head and shoulders. Like Robert, the man had his collar turned up. Still, the spark of recognition smacked Robert in the face. Hell, he could spot this man anywhere. After all, the bastard had been a pain in his arse for years.

Through clenched teeth Robert hissed, ‘Dickheadson.’ What was that prick doing here?