Thanks, Jess! Here's chapter 14 for you!

Andrea brought the steaming cup of tea to the technician fitting the new intruder alarm. He gave her a small smile of thanks and went back to concentrating on fitting the alarm. Someone had already been around earlier, changed the locks on the front and back doors, and added a lock onto the back gate. What she really should have done months ago. Not that it would have stopped Kit. Andrea sat down, drumming her hands on her thighs. She'd asked Kirsty if she wanted to come so she could see her house, get some familiarity, but she'd wanted to stay in the hotel, even said Andrea should as well, and ask the police to oversee the work. Andrea didn't think they would if she asked, and as she'd said to Kirsty, wasn't about to let Kit scare her into becoming a recluse. That was just want he wanted, and she'd spent ten years too long being scared. Kirsty didn't seem to share that sentiment though, but Andrea thought she might be the same if she was thousands of pounds in debt to a psychopathic drug dealer. She shook her head; still having no idea what Kirsty had been thinking, even if she believed Kit was dead.

With a sigh, she got up and went across to her bureau. She had to do something to keep herself busy, or all that was left was her thoughts. In the last day, she and Smithy had helped Angus pack up the majority of Bruce's belongings, and later, she was taking him in her car to drop off what he couldn't take with him – which was most of it – to the various charity shops on the high street. Opening the drawer, she knelt and began sorting through various piles of papers. There were piles of birthday and Christmas cards, which she set aside to be discarded. So many people hung onto them, but why? It wasn't as if you'd get them out every year to display when you just got more each year. There were some textbooks from her university days which she looked through idly before putting them in the rubbish pile as well. It wasn't as if she'd need them again. When she'd finished, all that remained in the drawer was some tablecloths, long candles and placemats. Getting up, the opened the hatch and lowered the platform which served as a writing desk. For a moment, she looked at it with a smile. The piece of furniture had been her grandfather's and she'd always loved it when she was a child. Even though her grandfather had died when she was six, she had vivid memories of sitting on his lap, watching as he wrote his letters with his calligraphy pen, teaching her the art of the font. He'd promised the piece of furniture would be hers one day, and it was.

Pulling up a chair, she began to sort through the various writing utensils, notebooks and stationary. There were piles of business cards in there too, mostly from other journalists, which she put in the rubbish pile without a second glance. One she came to, which she didn't recognise at first, but when she turned it over and read the name and nature of business, she remembered. She'd gone back to Scotland for the wedding of a university friend the previous spring and had gotten talking to one of the other guests, a man a little older than her, with an air of mysteriousness about him. Of course, they'd gotten to talking about their careers, and though she'd only just gone undercover at the time, told him she was a journalist, which seemed to spark his interest, much to her surprise. It wasn't as if it was a particularly glamorous job in and amongst A-listers and the stars. She'd been even more surprised when he'd asked if she'd ever investigated anything under the radar, and when she'd awkwardly said 'sometimes,' he'd produced a business card and handed it to her. He was a private investigator, and had told her to give him a call if she was ever at a loose end and fancied some real undercover work. Well, the loose end part was true enough but she thought she'd had her fill of undercover work, and went to add it to the discard pile. Then she paused and looked at the card again, reading the name Gareth Lachlan. She might not be able to ever be a police officer again, but maybe investigation could be the next best thing. She put the business card back in the bureau and closed the hatch, turning at voices at the door.

"…it's okay, I'm a…friend, look…"

She saw the burly technician step aside – his burly frame practically took up the entire doorway – and Smithy came in, glancing at the other man on his way past as he put his warrant card away.

"Hey," he said, bending down to kiss her head. He whispered; "I didn't know they were sending you a guard dog too."

"Stop," she mouthed, but it was through laughter. "How's the arm?"

"Its fine," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "What're you doing?"

"Just a bit of spring cleaning," she said.

"A bit? It looks like you're getting rid of half your cupboard."

"Well, we can't hang on to everything," she said. "It's just stuff I won't look at again. Call it a long overdue spring clean."

"You can come and do mine if you like," he said, and smoothed back her hair with his good hand. "Listen, do you feel safe coming back here? Even with the alarm and the new locks."

"Well, we can't stay in the hotel forever. And as much as I like my room being cleaned for me, the overdone toast at breakfast doesn't balance it out. And before you mention your spare room," she added as he opened his mouth, she was sure, to do just that. "We've been through this, Smithy. And Kirsty needs somewhere to stay too."

He closed his mouth, defeated and went on winding her hair around his fingers.

"Are you sure you can trust her?"

"No," Andrea said. "But I'd rather have her where I can see her."

"Isn't that more dangerous? If it really is her Kit's out to get…"

"No, what's dangerous is her on her own in that house in west London. You don't know Kirsty like I do, she's impulsive, flaky. When she's alone, that's when she gets the bright ideas. And I don't mean by that good ones."

"I didn't think so," Smithy said. "How do you know she won't run?"

"I don't," Andrea said and looked up at him. "Having her here doesn't mean I trust her, Smithy, it just means that if she's going to stab me again, I'd rather it in my front than my back."

"So would I," Smithy said, and Andrea looked up at him at his suggestive tone. He sighed. "Look, Andrea, I'm not trying to pressure you. I'm really not. But I don't like the idea of you alone here with Kirsty and with Kit out there. If it's okay, I want to stay too."

He felt her still under his hands and could have kicked himself. The whole way here, the angel on his shoulder was telling him not to make her feel pressured, but that damn devil wouldn't shut up. Smithy slid his hands from her shoulders.

"Sorry. It really wasn't an intent to pressure you, I swear."

"I know," she said and looked up at him, her cheeks colouring slightly. "If…if you really mean it, and you understand that nothing else will happen…"

"I do," he said, his heart lifting. "I'm not expecting anything. I don't want anything. I mean, not that I don't want ever, I just mean…"

"I know what you meant," she said and got up, sliding her arm around him. "I wasn't feeling great about coming back here anyway. Thanks Smithy. I mean it. You're so good."

"So are you," he said. "I know that, and to be honest, I think the others do too. It'll just take them some time."

"If ever," said Andrea, and they both turned as they heard the technician challenge someone at the door. Apprehensive, Andrea clung onto Smithy's arm, and he stepped protectively in front of her, then his eyes widened in surprise as he saw the familiar face of Logan Lockwood appear in the doorway.

"What do you want?" Smithy demanded.

"Just keep your stripes on, Sergeant, okay? Like I told this guy, I just want a word with her."

Andrea put a hand on Smithy's arm. "It's okay." To Logan, she said, "come in. But anything you have to say, you can say it in front of him."

"Okay," he said, glancing at Smithy. "How are you?"

"I've been better," she said shortly, then softened her tone. He'd worked with Bruce for eleven years. "I'm really sorry about Bruce."

"They said you were with him," Logan said, then glanced at Smithy. "The police. When he…"

Andrea nodded, her eyes misting at the memory she'd rather forget.

"I met his brother," Logan continued. "He came to the news office. Nice guy. Not at all how Bruce described him."

"No," Andrea murmured.

"Look…Andrea, I know we've never seen eye to eye. And I don't really know what's going on, the police won't tell us much of the story…that's not why I'm here," he said, catching Smithy's eyes narrowing. "I'm not carrying a dictaphone, feel free to search me."

"Don't tempt me," Smithy said sharply. "Andrea's had an awful few days, Mr Lockwood, why don't you just spit it out?"

Logan rubbed the back of his neck, and if Andrea wasn't mistaken, most of his usual cockiness was gone; his face pale and eyes dark and baggy. The stress was showing on him too, and she suspected it wasn't all to do with his new position as editor.

"I just wanted to say…I worked with Bruce for years. In some ways he was more like a father figure to me. And like I said, the police haven't said much, just the guy they think did it is someone you know. Knew."

"Yes, and he's dangerous Logan," Andrea said. "Please. Don't tug the tiger's tail by doing anything stupid. He's killed two people. It was nearly three."

As she spoke, Smithy's hand found hers and squeezed it. She saw Logan glance at their joined hands.

"Nothing is worth a story that much."

"I know," Logan said. "That wasn't what I wanted. And it's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you?"

"I wanted to say I was sorry, I guess," he said. "I know we've never really seen eye to eye, and maybe you're right, some of us did…resent your position."

Andrea felt Smithy's fury from beside her and hoped this wasn't sending his buried anger at her back to the surface.

"But I swear, none of us knew what he was planning to do to you."

"It doesn't matter now. It would have come out eventually. Anyway, you wouldn't have told me even if you had, would you?"

Logan coloured slightly. "No, maybe not. But if I could've seen the fallout…I would've stopped him."

"Yeah," she said softly. "Well. We can't go back in time. I think if we could, we'd all do things differently."

"I'm sorry."

Logan's voice was low, but Andrea thought the tone sincere. She looked at him and nodded.

"I know it's not much comfort to you, but I'll be doing things differently than Bruce. I respected him, but you know, his methods…"

"Yeah. And I hope it works out for you, I really do. Look after everyone, Logan, because this man is gunning for me. He doesn't care who gets in his way. If you see him, or if anyone else does…"

"I know," he interrupted. "I'll call the police. I don't think any of us fancy being acquainted with a metal pole."

"I should hope not," Andrea said. "I don't want to see anyone else like that."

"No, neither do I. Jenny found him, you know. She's been really worried about you."

"Yeah. I will call her. Just…I think the less people around me right now, the better."

"Right, sure," said Logan said, getting the hint. "Well, if there's anything I can do…"

"Thanks."

He gave her a slight smile, nodded at Smithy and left, stepping past the alarm engineer. Smithy's hands rested back on Andrea's shoulders.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, and clutched at his hands, then looked up, answering the unasked question. "I wouldn't have gone back, even if he'd asked. I don't think he would have done anyway,"

"What will you do?" he asked. "When all this dies down I mean? Work with another newspaper?"

She heard the tentative tone and shook her head, thinking again about the business card Gareth had given her.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. There's a lot open to me though, with an English degree, so…you know. There will be options."

"Oh," he said. "I thought your degree was journalism. Well, I assumed."

"No," she said and with a sinking heart, felt that her undercover role would always be there between them; the elephant in the room. Maybe him staying wasn't such a good idea after all. They both started as the engineer cleared his throat.

"I'm done," he said. "Can I show you how it works?"

Andrea drove with Smithy to Bruce's house where they met Angus, and between them, filled as much as they could into her boot, and with two of the three back passenger seats flattened, they could fit some more. Andrea watched Smithy make do with carrying bags with his good arm, glaring and gnashing his teeth at the cast when he thought she wasn't looking. They'd not spoken much since Logan had come over and she was wondering if he was rethinking his devotion to her. Angus put the last box in the boot, closed it, and watched Smithy go into the house to get more bags.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Andrea said flatly. "Just…things are a bit difficult. Not just because of Kit."

"Because of the undercover job?" Angus smiled when Andrea gave him a look of surprise that he knew. "The cops mentioned it when they first called me. I think they were keeping their lines of enquiry open as to motive. And that other colleague told me. Logan?"

"Yeah, he came to see me today," Andrea said, and looked sadly at Bruce's stuff. Was this all it came down to in the end? All you had to show for your life was just…stuff? "I didn't want to see him, or I didn't think so. I think we both needed the…don't know…closure. That all sounds so final."

"Sometimes things need to be," he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I wish more than anything that I could have made things up with Bruce. I even thought about coming to see him, repairing things, and I wish I had. Don't take any second for granted. You never know what might stop you getting that chance. And I know I don't know either of you really, but the way he looks at you, like nobody else is on the planet…nothing can make that go away."

"Thanks Angus."

"Well, it's the least I can do. Of course, if you don't want advice from someone who barely knows you, feel free to tell me to, as we'd say, haud yer wheesht."

Andrea laughed, a real full laugh that felt alien to her. The Scottish slag that had been so lost to her since she'd moved to London gave her a blast of her heritage. Angus laughed as well.

"The kids think it's hilarious," he said. "Especially Liv. She can't half do a good Scottish accent herself. She's been bugging me to go back."

They both turned as they heard a crash from inside the house, followed by a stream of creative cursing.

"I'll go," Angus said, and rushed back into the house, leaving her alone.

She leant against the car boot, thinking again about Logan coming to see her. She hadn't expected him to, and wasn't sure if she was happy he had or not, or if it even got the closure she'd talked to Angus about. So deep in thought she was it took her a moment to realise that she was staring at someone, and they were staring back at her. And it took her a further moment to realise it was Kit.

He was leaning against the car, wearing the smart coat he'd worn in the pub that night. He leant against a car in a mimic of the way she was and rose a cigarette-clutching hand to give her a mocking wave. She straightened, her mouth falling open in horror, but too terrified to even scream, even if she hadn't been, the tightness in her chest would have stopped her.

"Just a box of books," Angus said, coming back out to her. "He's okay, just worried he might have…" He trailed off when he saw the terror on her face and followed her gaze in time to see Kit opening the car door. "Is that him? Is that Kit?"

Andrea could only nod, but straightened as Angus charged at Kit like a bull.

"Hey! Hey, you!"

"Angus! Angus, stop!" She turned as she rushed after Angus and screamed in the direction of the open front door; "Smithy!"

Smithy rushed out, took one look at the car, and immediately pulled out his phone to call for backup. The car revved as Angus got to it, and he slammed his hands onto the bonnet, his face twisted in a way that made him unrecognisable.

"Get out!" he shouted. "Get out and tell me what you did to my brother!"

"Angus!" Andrea said, running to him as the car began to move and watched in horror as Angus rolled over the bonnet and pulled himself to his knees as the car drove away. He picked up a rock, and threw it, hitting the back of the car.

"Bastard!" he shouted, and doors began to open as neighbours came to investigate the source of the disturbance.

"Angus!" Andrea ran to his side. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he snarled, but it wasn't at her, and got up, inspecting his raw palms. "I hope he crashes."

"Yeah, so do I," she said. "Angus, I…"

"Don't," he said. "Don't say you're sorry."

"Are you okay?" Smithy asked joining them. "I've called for backup and the ambulance will be here soon."

"No need. Waste of resources," Angus said. "I am a doctor. I don't need to sit in a grotty A and E for five hours to be told I have cuts and bruises."

"Please Angus," Andrea said tearfully.

"All right," he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. That was really stupid. I don't know what came over me."

"You did what anyone would do if they saw the person who killed their loved one," Smithy said and gave Andrea an apologetic look. "It was definitely him, right?"

She nodded, sweeping her hair back with a trembling hand. "He was standing right where you are, just smoking a cigarette. Waved at me. When Angus came out, he went to get in the car, and…well, you saw."

"Yeah," he said and enveloped her in his arms. Over her head, he met Angus' eyes and saw his own fury reflected in them. He didn't fancy Kit's chances if Angus had got his hands on him; he always thought you should never anger someone who was a professional in the use of a scalpel and who knew what other sharp objects.

The police descended quickly on Victory Road. Andrea, the shock still sinking in, had been supplied with a glass of brandy by Angus shortly before they'd arrived, and sat on the doorstep, sipping it, watching Smithy talk to Gina and Sam, and a reluctant Angus being seen to by paramedics. Gina left Sam with Smithy and came to her, sitting next to her. Andrea moved up to make room, staring at the glass she'd barely touched.

"If you don't want to drink that, I'm tempted," she said. "But I'm on duty."

Andrea gave her a shaky smile and sipped from the glass.

"You okay? You didn't get hurt?"

"No. Just Angus."

"They think he's okay, but of course they'll take him to St Hugh's to be sure. Can you tell me what happened?"

She had her pen and notepad ready in her hand.

"I was at the car," she said. "We were getting ready to take some stuff to the charity shops, Angus can't take it all back to Australia. We – me and Angus – were outside, Smithy was inside getting some more. I think he tried to pick up a box or something, and he dropped it."

"Moron," Gina said mildly. "But not surprising. Can you carry on?"

"Yeah. Angus went inside to help, I stayed out here. I was thinking. One of my colleagues – well, former colleagues, from the Daily News came to see me at home. Logan."

"Smithy mentioned."

"Yeah. Not sure if it was a good thing or not, but I was just thinking about what we'd been talking about, how remorseful I guess he seemed. I knew I was staring at someone, but it just took me a minute to register. I shouldn't be so shocked really, that he's that brazen."

"Did he do anything?"

"He waved. Like I was an old school friend he didn't want to see. Like this," she said and demonstrated Kit's sarcastic wave. "Angus came back and I think he realised pretty quickly. He ran after him, managed to get in front of the car, shouted at him to get out. Kit just…drove right into him. I don't think it was as hard as it seemed, but the thud when he hit the floor…"

"He's okay Andrea," Gina said firmly. "Fighting them about going in, but he will."

You didn't argue with Gina Gold, Andrea knew that. She sipped more of the brandy.

"He was following me, Ma'am. He had to be, from my house, I don't know. Angus can't stay here, what if Kit does something, what if he sets the house on fire, or…or breaks in and…"

Awful thoughts ran through her mind, some utterly irrational, like Kit releasing poisonous gas, suffocating Angus, or the rational, like beating him like he had Bruce. Andrea hadn't even realised she was gasping until Gina took the glass from her hand and set it down, holding her shoulders.

"Breathe," she said. "Slowly. It's okay. Kit isn't here now. Nobody here will hurt you."

Andrea wasn't sure she agreed with that. From the corner of her eye, she could see Gabriel watching and knew, that even if she hadn't been undercover, he'd turn a blind eye to Kit, whatever he intended to do to her. She pushed the thoughts away and listened to the commanding tone of Gina's voice, breathing slowly until the panic passed.

"Don't worry," she said, handing the glass back to her. "We'll sort out Angus. He won't be staying here."

"Can someone check on Kirsty? Please? If he's been following me, he might know we're at that hotel."

"Someone's already on it," Gina assured her. "We'll have to have a rethink about your safety as a whole, too. I know you're going back to your home and Smithy tells me you've changed the locks, gotten intruder alarms."

"Yes." Andrea said, her stomach twisting in knots at the thought of going back home. Sure she'd done that, and she wouldn't be alone, Smithy and Kirsty would be there too, but what was to stop Kit throwing a Molotov cocktail through the window, pouring petrol through the door and striking a match, releasing toxic gas?

Gina watched Andrea's face blanch as she imagined all the horrible things Kit could do, taking the lives of three people potentially in the process? She put a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Well maybe we should have a think about that too. I'm not sure it's the safest place. Maybe we should think about somewhere else. Not another hotel."

"What, you mean a safe house?"

"Maybe. We'll have a chat with MIT. Talk of the devil," she added, getting to her feet as a car pulled up, and DC Knox and his wife got out. "You okay here?"

Andrea nodded and watched her go and speak to the officers. She finished her drink and set her glass down, rubbing her face with her hands.

"You know, I always knew you were a bit of a dark horse, but you've surprised me, I'll give you that."

Andrea didn't even bother to roll her eyes. She hadn't heard Gabriel coming but then, that was him all over; just like Kit. She glared up at him.

"Haven't you got anything better to do?"

"Yeah," he said and gave her a smirk that made her want to rip his face off. "A job in the police, unlike you."

Of course he'd strike the most savage blow he could. Scowling, she got up quickly, but the alcohol she'd consumed made her sway and he grabbed her arm in what she knew was a fake display of concern.

"Careful now. Wouldn't want you hurting yourself when someone else is willing to do that for you."

"Get your hands off me," she snarled, snatching her arm away. "Go away and take your fake concern with you. Haven't you got some stones to throw at glass houses or something?"

His mask slipped, just for a second, but she saw it; the same cruel psychotic look that she saw in Kit.

"You know, it's a real shame that Jason Hardy took a nose dive from that block of flats."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, he didn't like criminals, did he? I'm sure he'd have sorted him out for you with one pump of a trigger."

The words chilled her and so did the smile playing about his lips as he spoke. She took a step backwards. It came back to her again; what she'd began to suspect him of; being the puppet master behind the sniper, giving the orders about who to shoot.

"You're twisted," she said.

She'd never said so to his face before, but he didn't even blink.

"Well, you should know sweetheart."

"Andrea!"

She turned, grateful for the interruption, to see Gina waving her over. She started to go over and he caught her arm.

"Don't drive now, will you? I'm sure you'd hate this twisted copper nicking you for drunk driving."

She jerked free and went over to Gina, know was still standing with DC Knox and his wife, her eyes narrowing as he approached.

"Everything okay?" she asked, eyeing Gabriel over her shoulder. Andrea knew she'd never liked him either.

"Fine," she said dismissively. "Just making digs about me being undercover, you know what he's like."

Gina did but Andrea thought she hardly needed reminding of her undercover job. She saw the flash of anger on her face before she resumed a professional expression.

"I don't think we've introduced you properly," she said, turning back to the other two officers. "DC Knox, Andrea."

"Liam," said DC Knox, offering her his hand. "This is my wife, Melissa."

"DC Melissa Beaumont," she said, offering her hand. "I'm not into the taking your husband's last name thing."

It was clear who wore the trousers in their relationship. Andrea bit back a laugh.

"Thank you, for keeping watch. And that day, on the train…"

"Don't worry, I'd have done the same if I were you."

Andrea gave her a shaky smile and said; "is Kirsty okay?"

She caught the look exchanged between the three and felt a sense of immense dread.

"What?"

"When did you last see her?"

"Breakfast, this morning."

"And did she give you any indication to what she was going to do today?"

"Not really, just said she wanted to go back to bed. She's not been sleeping well, so…look what's happened? Is she hurt?"

"We went to check," said DC Knox. "After the Inspector told us what'd happened here. She didn't answer the door, so housekeeping let us in."

"And?"

"She's gone, Andrea," said Gina. "And so is all of her stuff. She's checked out. We don't know where she is."