SECRETS AND SPIES
Chapter Eight
After a long, stressful day, an exquisite turquoise and flame sunset is a welcome sight as Mitzi and I make our way home. Mitzi has whined and bounced on her seat for the whole journey. She knows she'll soon be at the cabin; back in the place where she's happy and free.
Permanent snow hugging the mountain peaks mirrors the ever-changing sky; the colors moving and changing like a kaleidoscope. Now hidden from the sun, dark shadows tumble across the belt of pine forest which blurs the point where the plain and the mountains meet. The visual effect is mesmerizing. Every evening when I drive home in the daylight, Mother Nature puts on a different show for me. Tonight's is one of her best.
Driving through this incredible landscape towards the widest of horizons is better than taking any anxiety pill ever invented and my neck and shoulders are already feeling the benefit of being surrounded by beauty. Even though I should be concentrating on the road, I can't take my eyes off the scene unfolding in front of me.
By the time I pull up outside the cabin the air temperature has dropped substantially from when I left The Yard an hour earlier. Soon the sky will become dark and starlit but a golden glow still lingers over the plain. After spinning the Shogun so it's pointing downhill ready for the morning, I delay getting out. Instead, I drink in nature's wonders, knowing that however long I live here, I'll never tire of the unbroken view towards the glittering lake that mom and dad loved so much.
Mitzi has already dived out the open window and disappeared around the side of the cabin heading for the stream. She'll suffer to drink water from a faucet or a bottle when we're away from home. At the cabin, she refuses to drink anything other than water that flows from the mountains. I love the icy water too and missed the taste of it while I was away. I'll fill a pitcher for the morning before it gets dark.
I'm too tired and hungry to check for bugs in the Shogun so lock the car and make my way to the cabin. I've been looking forward to the pizza Rosalie packed for me yesterday, meaning healthy eating can wait another day.
Unlocking the door I'm extra cautious, and peer inside before going in. The cabin seems untouched since this morning so I feel safe to enter without fear of being jumped on by a mystery assailant. After dumping my work bag on the sofa and a bag of groceries on the counter, I crack open one of the beers I picked up from the local store on the way home. The beer is cold and satisfying and I drink the whole bottle while watching Mitzi through the kitchen window. She's frolicking in the long grass behind the cabin and barking at any birds that have the nerve to venture near to the stream. She hasn't been home for almost two weeks and is obviously delighted to be back at the place where she can run free without leashes and boundaries, which is exactly how I feel when I return to the cabin after visiting the city.
With the pizza in the stove and the back door ajar so Mitzi can come in and out without bothering me, I search the cupboard under the sink for dad's battered wooden toolbox. It's hidden behind various bottles of cleaning fluids and other kitchen garbage which is an indication of how often I use it. After successfully rummaging in the depths of the box for a tiny screwdriver with a Phillips crosshead, I pick up my second beer and head for the sofa.
Turning my laptop upside down I carefully unscrew each access panel one by one. Using the flashlight on my cell phone, I peer inside the casing searching for anything that shouldn't be there. When I'm satisfied nothing sinister has been planted inside, I replace each panel before turning the laptop on to ensure it still works. The start-up screen seems normal and after a few seconds of clicking and whirring my screensaver of Mitzi asleep on her back with her legs in the air appears, which proves I haven't wrecked it.
After devouring my pizza and drinking a third beer I commence the search for bugs in the cabin. Concentrating on the living room and kitchen first I start with the answerphone, followed by every electrical appliance and light fitting. All the picture frames and movable objects are forensically examined, including mom's porcelain ornaments that adorn the mantle, window ledges, and shelves. Every piece of furniture is checked, which means getting down on my hands and knees to look underneath the sofa and chairs, tipping them up to make absolutely certain nothing is lurking underneath. Mitzi is very curious while all this is happening and presumes this is a game, so I have to keep pushing her away while I'm crawling around the floor.
Exhausted, I give up the search at ten o'clock. I'm covered in dust, so have a quick shower before bed. Before turning the lights out I check the windows and doors are secure and say goodnight to Mitzi who's already curled up on her giant cushion. I have a habit of looking at the sparkling night sky above the mountain before closing the drapes, and as I take a last look while dragging the second drape across, I spot a bright light high up on the slope behind the cabin going on, off, on, off.
I pull the drape across and dim the lamp on the nightstand. My bedroom is now in darkness. Panic sets in. I know I have to look again but I'm fearful of opening the drape in case someone is behind the cabin. My heart thumps as I tweak the drape a fraction to see out.
It takes a while for my eyes to get used to the dark, but there's nothing and no-one there. The only shape I can make out is the mountain as a wall of black against the starlit sky. Between the mountain top and the cabin is a void where nothing is visible past the edge of the veranda.
I usually sleep naked so pull on some sweatpants as I'm watching in case Mitzi and I have to make a run for it. I make a mental checklist. Keys by my bed. Cell on the counter. Hoodie on the back of the sofa. Shoes by the door. Minutes tick by and I shiver; I'm not sure if it's through fear or cold.
My senses are alert. Blood is pounding in my ears. The only sounds breaking the absolute silence are the distant but distinctive calls of the Rocky Mountain's nocturnal animals, the occasional rattle of the cabin's shutters being disturbed by the night breeze, and Mitzi's gentle snores. I pick out owls, coyotes and nighthawks, and other familiar noises, but from the direction of the strange light there is nothing.
After about twenty minutes of staring into the dark, I give up watching and climb into bed. Attempting to convince myself that the light was nothing more ominous than a torch being carried by a late-night hiker doesn't help my anxiety. Instead, I lie awake staring at the ceiling, asking myself why I'm being paranoid about a trivial incident where there's probably a plausible explanation.
I have the most comfortable bed in the world only I cannot relax. I toss and turn trying to think of nothing but my mind is still active. I'm re-considering Emmett's offer to stay at his place when the silence is broken by the roar of an engine. Immediately I presume the monstrous SUV has returned, but this time the noise is coming from behind the cabin and sounds more like a motorcycle than a full-size vehicle.
Rolling out of bed and falling over Mitzi who has crept in unnoticed and is whimpering in terror, I dash to the bedroom window and fling the drapes open, in time to see the shadowy outline of a motorcycle with no lights on hurtling down the hill following the path of the stream. I run into the living room to look out the front windows where I follow the bike's trajectory as it bounces down the bumpy slope, no doubt heading for the track at the foot of the hill. Staring into the darkness I can just make out the shapes of three more lightless bikes heading off at speed into the distance. As I watch them disappear, two more lightless bikes appear from the left followed by another two, who follow their leaders into the night.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" I yell and stagger towards the sofa where I collapse down on it with a bump before my legs give way. My nerves are in shreds and my hands are shaking uncontrollably. I feel physically sick as I don't know what the hell I should do. I'm tempted to call Emmett and stay at his place tonight, and as I'm making my mind up whether to go or not, my cell rings on the kitchen counter where it's plugged in to charge.
I jump up and grab it, checking the screen before answering.
Private Number
"Who the hell is this," I yell as I rip the cable away from the wall.
A muffled voice answers and I can't tell whether the caller is male or female.
"You don't need to say anything, Mr Cullen. This is a friend. I'm calling to say you're safe tonight. You can sleep without worry. Goodnight."
And the line goes dead.
"What the fuck!" I yell at my cell, as though this inanimate piece of plastic and metal is responsible for the call and could give me an explanation. When I get hold of myself I plug it back into the wall, pour myself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge, and reach for my cigarettes.
Mitzi pads into the kitchen and stares up at me with wide eyes, whimpering like a baby. She's a sensitive soul; something I realized not long after taking her on. She cowers when she hears raised voices which is probably due to a deep-seated memory from her past. She's visibly trembling, so I sit on the floor and hug her for a while until she stops shaking. Foregoing the cigarette, instead, I get hold of her oversized cushion and drag it into the bedroom.
"You can sleep in here tonight," I say as I settle her down. "But only for tonight," I add in a serious tone. "We may be sleeping somewhere else tomorrow."
After closing the drapes I climb into bed for the second time. I'm cold, and mentally and physically exhausted, but despite the fact my thoughts are now in complete turmoil, as soon as my head hits the pillow I'm asleep.
On the track that leads to Edward's cabin, three figures dressed in black confer with one another about the plan for the night. One of them holds a flashlight with a beam as thin as a pencil which illuminates a map of the area. They speak quickly and nod in agreement before jogging back to a trio of motorcycles parked by the side of the track. The first rider pulls on a bulky helmet, starts his engine, and rides off into the darkness without switching the headlamps on, followed by the next rider who does the same. The third rider walks over to his bike, but before riding off, speaks into a walkie-talkie attached to his jacket. He waits for a reply, mounts the bike, and disappears into the darkness.
When I wake the next morning I find Mitzi asleep on the bed next to me. I'm too tired to be cross with her. Instead, I pull her towards me and cuddle her like I used to do with Laura, but obviously not exactly the same as Laura. Mitzi hasn't got on the bed since the first few days after I brought her home, so last night's disturbances have obviously unsettled her.
I roll over to check the clock, although without looking I can roughly guess the time. My bedroom door is open and dust-laden sunbeams are streaming through the east-facing windows at the front of the cabin. Estimating the angle of the beams I guess the time is about 6 am and the clock confirms it. Sighing I kick the covers off and stagger into the bathroom.
After a shower and a long drink of water from the fridge, I pull on some board shorts and a thin sweatshirt, grab my cell and Ray-Bans, and whistle for Mitzi who is playing behind the house close to the stream. Mitzi hurtles around the side of the cabin while I lock up and meets me on the verandah, where I check the time on my watch before we set off for our morning walk.
Mitzi runs on ahead, bouncing through the long grass like a puppy and consequently disturbing any wildlife from their hiding places. The sky is still tinged with pink and orange after what had probably been a spectacular sunrise heralding this glorious summer morning. On my way to our favorite trail, my lungs fill with fresh, untainted air and the disturbances of the night seem like a bad dream. Sparkling dew still clinging to the long grass chills my bare legs, but it doesn't bother me as the air temperature is already rising steadily as the sun creeps above the hazy horizon in the east.
I try not to think about the events of the night and concentrate on the spectacular scenery around me, only I can't shake off the memory of the motorcycles around the cabin and what amounted to my feeling of total helplessness. One man against at least eight bikers would've been a joke, and confirms I'm an idiot for staying here on my own. As I cross the marked trail where I'd seen the mysterious motorcycles congregating, I wonder who the strange black figures were, and why they were on a road that led to nowhere at midnight, and, more worryingly, why there was a rider on the hill behind the cabin?
What intrigues me most though is who called me on my cell after they disappeared? I'm certain the caller was female only her voice was muffled. Was it someone I already know? Someone whose voice I may have recognized?
I immediately think of Bella and dismiss the notion immediately. I try to recall exactly what the woman said, but I was in such a state of panic when I answered that her words washed over me.
She did assure me I was safe, only she didn't say in what context? Was I safe just for last night or forever? Had she and her biker friends foiled another plot to terrorize me, kidnap me, or do me harm? I need to know before I make a decision whether to stay in the cabin another night or move elsewhere.
Mitzi has already reached the lake and is splashing in and out of the water's edge. I find a patch of ground that looks as though the morning dew has already dried out, where I sit, cross-legged, purposely relax my shoulders, and make an attempt to clear my mind.
A warm breeze is wafting towards me across the sparkling surface of the lake causing the multi-colored undulations to produce a soothing rushing sound. On the opposite bank, a small herd of Elk has wandered across the flat plain towards the water where they've stopped for a drink. Above, birds of prey circle and dive as they search for their breakfast in the long grass. All around a constant chorus of birds and animals welcome another blissful summer day in this beautiful part of the world. I couldn't ask for a more perfect morning to calm me after last night only I'm the opposite of calm.
As Mitzi dashes in and out of the water, barking at the gentle ripples as they splash around her feet, I cannot switch off, even in a place as tranquil as this. In the type of situation I would automatically turn to dad for advice, only he's gone from my life forever leaving me to sort out my problems on my own. I've never felt really lonely before so I'm feeling his loss even more keenly, missing the calm way he could diffuse any situation I found myself in. I've good friends here, and other friends, like Mike, in San Francisco, only it's like I'm staring at a list of familiar names on my cell phone but none have numbers attached to them anymore.
Everything that's happened to me since Yorkie called me to tell me my dad was dead, needs to be placed in some sort of order. This peaceful setting should be the best place to do it; well I hope it will be.
Most importantly I've accepted that dad has gone from my life, and more than likely he was murdered by people who were after his knowledge. As his son, I know it's my duty to find out what happened to him and to steadfastly persevere with this, even without the help of the law enforcement agencies that are supposed to be doing this for me. Unfortunately, I've no idea where to start searching for the truth as dad left no signposts in the FYEO letter.
The realization that somebody out there is deliberately trying to intimidate me has shocked me. Why the hell are these people lurking around my home and following me while I'm at work? If whoever drove the SUV up to my cabin is either directly or indirectly involved with dad's death, what do they want from me, other than warning me off trying to find out what happened to him?
And then there's Bella. I didn't have the time or energy to check her resume last night but would do sometime today. Because I'm physically attracted to her, I have to consider whether this could be affecting my willingness to think of her as a spy. I've learned more about her in the last two days than in the previous four weeks, and the fact that her father is a cop, who she obviously respects, is definitely a point in her favor.
She'd remained silent while I was talking about dad's work, but that could be because she hadn't known what she was getting into when she signed up with whoever's behind dad's abduction and murder. But I'm getting way ahead of myself here. She could be totally unconnected and innocent, even though there's something about her that doesn't ring true.
Lastly, who are my 'protectors', if that's what they are. Who made the reassuring phone call last night? Jake said he'd get his friends to help out, only I'm positive they weren't Jake's gang as why would there be subterfuge? If Jake had raised a posse and seen off the 'baddies', he wouldn't have got a girl to leave an anonymous message. He'd be crowing about his success from the mountain tops.
The frustration of not knowing what to do next is getting to me. I'm still no further forward on where to start looking for the truth regarding dad's death – which is making me feel totally ineffectual as a grown man and dad's son. If I do nothing at all and just accept dad's death as unexplained, this would be the beginning of a guilt-trip which would last the rest of my life. I'd regret forever not attempting to resolve the mystery while the trail, if there is such a thing, is hot.
I constantly want to yell at someone – anyone - only there's no guilty party to yell at. Even Detective Yorkie was only speaking the truth when he said he had nothing to go on.
I'm not in the mood to meditate, which I often do here as this is such a tranquil spot. I purposely never bring cigarettes here either as I don't want to pollute this pristine environment with disgusting tobacco smoke. I'm craving nicotine, so time to abandon my attempt to think logically. I try to stand up not using my arms as a support and fail, which is an indication of how unfit I am. After staggering to my feet like an old-timer, I brush myself down and whistle to Mitzi who's rolling around in the longer, much wetter grass, while barking at the birds circling above her.
"Breakfast," I shout, knowing this is one word she recognizes immediately. Mitzi springs to her feet and bolts off in the cabin's direction although every hundred yards or so she stops and turns to ensure I'm not too far behind her.
As we make our way up the long slope to my isolated cabin, I make the decision I'm not going to move out. These people aren't going to drive me from my home, and I'm not prepared to put any of my friends in jeopardy if I move in with them. If I'm confronted at the cabin and survive the experience, at least I'll be one step closer to finding out who they are.
But one thing I'm definitely going to do today is set a trap, so I can discover whether any of my colleagues have sold me out. I hate doing this, but frankly, I have no choice.
Bella is already at her desk when I arrive at the office. She's scrolling through the hundreds of photos she'd taken yesterday which she's transferred onto her computer. As she flicks on each image, she scribbles notes on a pad next to her. By the look of what she's already written, she's been in the office for a while.
"Hey," she says and glances at me briefly before returning to her work.
"Hi," I reply as I dump my bag on my desk. "Coffee," I offer.
"Great," she mumbles and gives me the thumbs-up sign without looking at me again.
I pick up her Seahawks mug which is warm, indicating she's been in long enough to drink one coffee. There's still enough left in the jug for two so I wash out my favorite mug, pour the coffee then replenish the filter so there'll be a constant supply for the others. I walk back to the office mentally polishing my halo for being such a considerate boss. They don't know how lucky they are.
I can see the others, bar Jake, in the main office but I'm guessing Jake is in the building somewhere as his bike is in the front yard. Jake will have to be included in my scheme to tempt anyone who'd been 'bought' out into the open. I'll have to be careful what I say though as I don't want to reveal to Jake what I'd told the others yesterday.
I place Bella's coffee on her desk, for which I receive a mumbled thank you, and glance over her shoulder at what she's looking at on the screen. She's reached the long-range shots she'd taken with the telescopic lens and when she gets to the ones of the clump of trees, I bend forward so I can take a closer look.
Bella realizes I'm behind her so when the first clear picture of the watchers appears, she zooms in to enhance the images. There are definitely two men in the shot dressed from head to toe in black, which instantly reminds me of the figures on the lightless bikes last night.
"Do you think they were watching me or just spying on the hotel?" I ask.
"You," Bella replies assertively. "If a rival company wants to take pictures of a new development that could impact their business, there's no reason to hide in the bushes."
"You're probably right," I sigh. "This is crazy though. Why are they doing this? Are they just keeping tabs on me for some reason?"
"Possibly and I agree this is weird. If your dad hadn't been murdered I would say ignore them. You've obviously survived the night so I'm presuming they didn't come back to the cabin."
"Not the SUV, but I was visited by some bikers at midnight. They were behind the cabin and on the track. I got a call later to say I could sleep tight as I was safe, which was very reassuring, but not, if you see what I mean."
Bella turns in her chair and looks straight at me. I'm guessing she can see that I'm tired and stressed. When I looked in my shaving mirror I noticed my face was very thin, and a vein which occasionally protrudes on my forehead was evident this morning. This only appears when I'm anxious.
"I know you're not going to like hearing this," she starts, "but you're not safe up there on your own. Not only that, you're going to make yourself ill if you don't get enough sleep. You should take up Emmett's offer of a bed."
"I'll think about it," I reply, even though I've no intention of leaving the cabin. "I'll see how the day goes. Anyway, can you take a break for a few minutes? I want to talk to you all. I'll go find Jake and meet you in the main office."
Picking up my coffee I go out to the storerooms at the back where Jake is pulling a leaf blower out from one of the sheds.
"Jake, can you come to the admin office for five minutes?" I shout.
"Sure," he replies and dusts himself down before following me into the building where he picks up Mitzi and makes a fuss of her.
Once everyone has got coffee and are all seated, I relate what happened at the cabin overnight. Emmett again offers me a room and I agree to consider it. Jake is incensed like before and is itching to go after these guys. I insist this isn't necessary at the moment and is definitely not the route I want to go down.
"I don't need or want protection. I'm not saying 'never', but I'd rather be on my own right now. That isn't to say I'm not treating this situation seriously. For this reason, and I know you'll probably think I'm being paranoid, I want you to search the building and the front and back yards for bugs or any type of surveillance equipment. Look everywhere. Check inside your computers, the phones, the light switches and fittings, the trucks; basically any place where a camera or a microphone could be hidden."
"You think we're being bugged?" Jake practically hisses.
"I hope not, but I can't rule it out. When I was in San Francisco I checked dad's house for bugs before I checked out his office in the basement. Whoever broke in the house didn't know about dad's hidey-hole, so the contents were undisturbed. Before I went down there I checked no-one was watching me when I opened the stair panel door. Luckily all his work papers and his primary computer hadn't been touched. There was personal stuff down there as well, including the picture of my parents which is now on my desk."
"Wow! That's clever," Rosalie said. "Your dad thought of everything. Did you find any bugs or cameras?"
"No. If there were some they were very well hidden. Can you do this for me now so I can relax? I'm sorry, it's just me being paranoid. I went through the cabin last night and didn't find anything, which was a relief. I'll do my car to check for bugs and trackers now and I'll check for trackers on the other vehicles too."
Everybody gets up and starts searching while Jasper and I go out to check the vehicles for magnetic trackers. I can see Bella through the window standing on her desk checking the light fitting, so unless she's playing along she's taking my request seriously.
When I'm satisfied the vehicles are bug-free I return to the building to find Alice in the corridor with a bottle of cleaning fluid and some dusters in her hand.
"I might as well clean while I'm looking," she responds to my unsaid question. "This place is filthy," she adds and pulls a disgusted face.
I can't help grinning as I slide into my office before she thrusts a duster in my hand, to find Bella on her hands and knees checking under the desks. Her exquisitely shaped ass is waving provocatively in the air and I have to shove my fist in my mouth to stop myself crying out.
"Oh Jesus," I mutter as I escape outside for a cigarette. I'm fumbling with the packet and have difficulty lighting it. As I draw in my first lungful I'm grinning to myself as it's like having a post-coital cigarette, but without the sex.
The rest of the day passes without incident. No bugs are found in the building so everyone gets on with their work as usual. I sit with Bella for most of the day planning the planting in the hotel's grounds based on the views through the windows and Jasper's analysis of the soil. As the site faces due east the garden would have the benefit of the rising sun in the morning. The afternoons would be cooler with a large section of the grounds shaded due to the surrounding forest and to some extent the mountains. The site presents many challenges, but the owners have given me carte blanche to do what I want within reason and within their budget, so everyone in The Yard is well aware this could be one of our most prestigious commissions to date.
I go out at lunchtime taking Mitzi with me this time. I can't help looking behind me several times to check whether I'm being followed but there's no sign of Bella, or strange men in black clothing, or SUVs with huge wheels, or mysterious bikers. As we're walking towards the Deli, I can't help thinking about how different my life is from what it was two weeks ago, when I would've done this journey without a care in the world. Now I'm looking over my shoulder worried that someone is going to grab me or bash me over the head.
At the end of the day, Emmett repeats his offer to put me up for the night but I decline. I lock up after everyone has left then drive to the local store to buy supplies for me and Mitzi. When I get home I check Bella's resume again to ensure the places she's worked at previously, which are scattered all over the country, are bona fide businesses, which they are. I also look up Bella's parents to check what she told me about them is true.
Renee Dwyer is indeed an artist and has her own website. Her paintings are stunning and I seriously consider commissioning her to paint one of my favorite views of the Rockies to hang over the fireplace. She writes she's recently moved back to Colorado, the State of her birth, after her Floridian husband passed away. Her website also says she's taking a break from painting while she undergoes cancer treatment, from which she's expecting to make a full recovery. This also confirms the reason why Bella has taken a job close to Denver. Renee lives about two hour's drive away which corroborates what Bella told me at her impromptu interview, which is that she moved to Colorado to be near her sick mother.
Charlie Swan is much easier to find as he's the Chief of Police covering a substantial part of the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. There's no doubting he's Bella's father as I spot the physical likeness immediately. Even though there's only a black and white photo of Chief Swan on his profile, his thick dark hair and striking eyes reassure me that Bella is definitely this man's daughter.
I'm relieved Bella is who she claims to be as I wouldn't know how to handle confronting her if her background was a lie. There's still something about her that doesn't ring true but I'm not yet ready to accept it has anything to do with her conveniently turning up at my office with a perfect resume only a week after Laura upped and left.
Before I shut the computer down for the night, I answer some of the condolence emails that have come in from business contacts and ex-clients. As I'm deleting spam, I notice there are more of the strange emails coming through which are nonsense. I delete those along with the hundreds of emails from various gardening companies and other suppliers touting for my business.
While I'm doing this, I can't help glancing through the windows to check whether the bikers are on the track again. The moonless night only allows me to see as far as the track and the only sounds I can hear are the nighttime calls of non-human inhabitants hunting for food. At eleven I settle Mitzi down and go to bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
In the morning I take Mitzi for a long walk in the wooded slopes behind the cabin, unsuccessfully looking for evidence of the biker, before setting off on the forty-five-minute journey to work. I'm about twenty minutes in when I get the call I've been expecting. My heart sinks when her name comes up on the dash display as this forces me to accept that someone in my immediate circle is a traitor.
"Hi Sue, what's up?"
"Were you asleep, Edward?"
"No, I'm already on my way to work. Is everything okay?"
"Sorry, my darling, no. Your house was broken into again last night. The alarms went off briefly at about four in the morning. I called the police but they didn't show up until nearly half an hour later. By the time they got here the fuckers who broke in were gone."
I can't help grinning at Sue's colorful description of the intruders, which is one of her favorite derogatory expressions.
"Do you know if they took anything?" I ask innocently.
"I'm not sure. The police said they'd been in your basement. I've never been down there so wouldn't know what was in there. There was a small, gray, unmarked truck outside the house for about five minutes. Brian in the house opposite took pictures of the truck and the two fuckers who were running in and out, but they had hoods on and masks over their faces. He wanted to go out there with his shotgun and shoot the bastards but Jenny wouldn't let him."
An image of Brian in his pajamas brandishing his shotgun makes me chuckle. Brian is in his eighties and is an old school, 'shoot 'em, ask questions later', type. The recoil from the gun would probably have killed him so I'm glad his wife put her foot down.
"Thanks for letting me know," I respond trying to sound concerned. "I'll call the police as soon as I get to the office. I'll contact the security company as well if they're not already there and ask them to reset the alarms. I'm sorry you were disturbed."
"No worries, Edward. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Sue. Look, I'll call you later. I'm driving so give me an hour will you?"
Sue says goodbye and disconnects the call.
Even though I'd been expecting this to happen, anger is growing in the pit of my stomach. My trap has proved unequivocally that someone I trust implicitly and thought as a friend has sold the information about the basement for thirty pieces of silver. But which one of my trusted colleagues is the culprit, and who are they working for?
When I find out, I'll be some-way towards discovering who murdered my dad.
Poor Edward. That's horrible finding this out. It was the only way though. How is he going to deal with this information though?
The bikers - that was scary, even though they called to say he was okay. Who on earth are they? I'd be out of there so fast if it was me.
Next time, Jake is being a douche bag (not unexpected I hear you saying) and a trip to the Deli is a turning point for Edward. (No, he doesn't choose a different sandwich)!
Loving all the reviews and guesses.
Joan xx