Pitch Black: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 1) (25 page)

Luke went back to work the next day while I stayed home with Tia. She still had a week of school holidays left.

“Do you want to go out?” I asked, recalling her comments about being stuck at home.

“I’d love to. Can we go shopping? I could spend my gift cards.”

Her mother proved to have one use when she lent us her chauffeur, and after a brief detour to the charity shop to drop off Tia’s unwanted gifts, we headed into London. I kept my head down as Tia bought half of Selfridges and rejoiced in the shadows at a West End show.

“I bought you a necklace,” she said in the car on the way home, presenting me with a silver letter A on a chain. “It’s no fun if I’m the only one getting new things.”

“That’s sweet of you. Thanks.”

As she fastened it around my neck, the guilt weighing me down grew heavier. It wasn’t only Luke I was going to end up hurting.

When Tia returned to school the following week, I worried she might revert to her old ways, but it seemed her new attitude was there to stay.

“Do you think Luke would let me go out with friends from school?” she asked one evening. “They’re going to the cinema.”

Friends? Well, at least she was making some. “I’ll deal with Luke. But you’ve got to promise you won’t drink and you’ll come back at a sensible time.”

I’ll admit I paced a little while I was waiting for her to return, but she didn’t let me down. Someone’s mother dropped her off at ten, and she could still walk in a straight line.

That was the same week I discovered Luke wasn’t quite as squeaky clean as he made out. Embracing his new-found delegation skills, he’d been working from home more. His desk in the den was a sea of empty crisp packets and post-it notes.

“You want a coffee?” I asked him one evening.

His eyes shot up. “Huh? What did you say?”

Why the surprise? I looked at the image of his screen reflected in the window behind him. Wasn’t that the police national database? I recognised the logo.

He flipped over to a spreadsheet as I walked behind the desk. Nope, he wasn’t supposed to be in there. “I said, would you like a coffee?”

“Oh, er, yes please.”

I bent and kissed him. So, he wasn’t quite the angel I thought he was? Good. I liked my men with a streak of bad in them.

I loved the time spent with Luke and Tia, but when they were out, I got ever more restless. A seed of boredom generated inside me, twining with the guilt that was growing ever stronger. As soon as Luke left in the mornings, I’d hit the gym to take my mind off things, but there was only so much exercise I could do.

“Why don’t you join the country club?” asked Luke.

I stifled a laugh. “I’m not a lady that lunches.”

In fact nobody who knew the real me would even describe me as a lady.

“You might like it if you tried it.”

How could I tell him I felt more at home navigating my way through the underbelly of society than I did making small talk with a bunch of women whose main concern was whether their hair looked good? The answer? I couldn’t

“Thanks for the offer, but it’s not for me.”

For the first time, I was leading the life many women would dream of. I had free time, a hot boyfriend and a luxury home. But the more time passed, the less I was sure it was for me.

I missed the little things—Stan’s scowls in the morning, Bradley’s incessant chatter, Nick’s crap dumped on every surface, Dan stumbling in at three in the morning. Hell, I even craved Toby’s disgusting smoothies on occasion. I hadn’t quite managed to replicate the vile taste myself.

But how would people react if I turned up saying, “Hey, miss me?”

Not only that, I hadn’t forgotten the threat from my husband’s killer. I didn’t know if I was ready to expose my friends to that, or whether I ever would be.

Every time I thought of returning home, two people changed my mind. I’d never been one to show emotion in the past—my training had knocked that out of me—but I found myself smiling and laughing. Two things that had once been foreign concepts.

Luke was so damn nice to me. Every evening, I’d curl up against him and escape from reality. His kisses helped me hide from my mind. Well, except for the guilt. I couldn’t escape that.

Tia was like the sister I never had, once the shit on the outside of her was stripped off. She channelled any angst she had left into art and her talent floored me. She’d started drawing my portrait, and every evening it got more detailed.

Luke was thrilled with the change in her. “Normally by this point in term, the headmistress would have called me into school at least twice to discuss her behaviour, but she hasn’t had a single detention. Her grades are up too.”

“Did she tell you one of her paintings has been selected for an exhibition?”

We were on the couch and he snuggled me closer. “Yeah.”

“She’s happy.”

“That’s because of you. Meeting you was the best thing ever to happen to me.” He kissed me deeply and laid his forehead against mine. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Ash.”

Fuck. Leaving would be one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

Chapter 25

MONDAY MORNING CAME round, and it was a relief when Luke went back to work. Breakfast had been an awkward affair, a mix of politeness and avoidance. Hardly surprising after his confession the night before—he’d told me he loved me, and I didn’t say it back. Normally, lies came easily, but the words stuck in my throat. I’d never told anyone I loved them. How could I start now, in a relationship built on a foundation of half-truths and hope?

I’d kissed him instead, but it was no consolation. When I’d pulled back, his eyes filled with hurt and disappointment. As he walked away, the pit of dread in my stomach grew ever deeper. How could I repair things? I’d never had this problem in my deep and meaningful relationship with my Walther P88.

It was mid February and each day got a little lighter. I’d taken to running in the early mornings as soon as Luke left, then heading to the gym until lunchtime. For the last few days I’d borrowed Majesty in the afternoons and gone for a ride. Apart from a small difference of opinion over a pheasant, we were getting on famously.

When we’d been chatting, Tia told me more of his history. “I saw a video on the internet and fell in love with him. His name was Majnoon back then. Luke bought him for my birthday.”

“You know
majnoon
is Arabic for crazy, right?”

A blank look. “Is it?”

I tried to stop laughing, unsuccessfully. “The dude that sold him to you must have been laughing his head off.”

“He seemed so nice in the emails.”

I gave her shoulders a squeeze. “A lot of pricks do. Majesty’s not a bad horse, though. We’ll sort him out.”

It started as another routine week in the life of Luke, Ash and Tia.

At least until Wednesday evening, when a feeling absent for months made a reappearance. A prickle. A tingle in the base of my spine and a tension that spread across my shoulders. I’d relied heavily on my instincts over the last couple of decades, and they were usually bang on the money. Something wasn’t right.

My mind cycled through the possibilities before settling on the problem. Where was Tia?

She’d gone back to Arabella’s house after school, but when she called me at lunchtime she said she’d be home for dinner. My version of macaroni and cheese might have been crude, but it was her favourite.

Right now, it was going crispy round the edges. I glanced at my watch—she’d been due at half past six, and the clock said five to seven.

I tried calling her. Voicemail.

“It’s Ash. Just checking you’ve remembered dinner. Can you call me?” I kept my tone light, not wanting to scare her if everything was fine. I sent a text message saying the same thing. No reply.

Had her battery run out?

I dug Arabella’s number out of Luke’s computer. She answered almost instantly.

“It’s Ash. Could you give Tia a shove out the door? Dinner’s nearly ready.”

“She left ages ago.” A pause. “Maybe an hour?” Another pause. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m sure it’s fine. I had the music on loud so I bet she’s snuck up to her room.”

I didn’t want to worry Arabella, but I knew damn well Tia wasn’t in the house. I may have been rusty, but I wasn’t dead. And that meant I wanted to check the route myself before calling Luke. A bit of the real me stirred deep in my soul, and I ran upstairs to change. Dark colours were the order of the day—a navy blue jacket, dark red jeans and brown boots.

Why didn’t I wear black? Because I wasn’t a fucking ninja, that’s why. Sure, it goes with everything, but if you’re skulking around in the dark dressed in black from head to foot, you might as well tattoo “burglar” across your forehead.

Before I left, I slipped a knife into my pocket. When Luke wasn’t around, I’d got back into the habit of carrying a little something, and thanks to a dude in the pub I had my weapon of choice. I was so familiar with carrying an Emerson CQC-7, it became an extension of my hand. I’d worked the mechanism on this one until it was smooth as Sean Connery.

I set the alarm on my way out the door, although it wouldn’t stop someone like me. Hell, it’d barely even slow me down.

The streetlight that stood between Luke’s home and Arabella’s was out, the lane pitch black. Coincidence? I checked underneath—no broken glass. Keeping to the shadows, I traced Tia’s route. The good news was I didn’t find her lying in a ditch. The bad news was I didn’t find any sign of her at all. On the way back, I slowed down and used my torch.

I was almost back at Luke’s when I saw it. A few scuffs, barely visible at the edge of the kerb. A fresh tyre track marked the dirt in the gutter, its tread distinct. I flipped a coin next to it for scale and took a photo with my phone.

It might be nothing, but my intuition wasn’t convinced.

Luke turned into the driveway as I got back. He’d taken his SUV today, the Porsche Cayenne, grumbling about the salty roads.

As he pulled into the garage, I let myself in through the front door. By the time he came through the internal door, I was waiting.

“Have you heard from Tia?” I got straight to the point.

“Why would I? She always calls you.”

“She hasn’t come home, and she left Arabella’s over an hour ago.”

He shrugged. “Maybe she went to see mother? She mentioned picking up some art stuff. Or she could be visiting another friend. She always used to sneak out in the evenings.”

Once, possibly, but not now. “Could you give your mother a call and check?”

His sigh told me I was overreacting, but he humoured me and pulled out his phone. He wandered upstairs to change while he made the call.

A few minutes later, he came back, looking marginally more concerned. “Mother hasn’t seen her for over a week. She can’t remember exactly when.”

Figured.

I called Arabella back. “Turns out Luke and Tia had a bust up. She’s run off, and I need to track her down. Can you give me the numbers of her friends? I don’t know if she’s got money on her for a taxi back.”

Luke looked peeved when I ended the call. “We didn’t have a bust up.”

“I know that, but I don’t want to worry more people than necessary.”

“Are you worried?” 

I was when I got off the phone to her friends. Nobody had seen Tia since school that afternoon.

“I’m calling the police,” Luke said.

I could hardly tell him not to, but inwardly I groaned. My cover was on thin ice. He paced the lounge as he muttered into the phone then hung up with a frown.

“Graham says nobody’s reported any accidents, and if she hasn’t turned up by morning he’ll stop by and take a report.”

“Graham? Is that the prick we met in the pub the other day?”

Luke nodded. Marvellous. Graham, the local constable, had struggled to detect his own vehicle in the car park at the end of the evening. A missing person was beyond his abilities. Now what? If harm had come to Tia, I wasn’t averse to getting the chief constable out of bed, but I wanted to rule out other possibilities first.

“I’m calling the hospitals. I don’t trust Graham,” I said.

“I’ll go out in the car. She might have gone to the stables. Or the shop.” A note of desperation crept into his voice. “Or the pub.”

I drew a blank and set out on foot again. A more thorough check wouldn’t hurt, although I had a sinking feeling I knew what had happened. I’d been involved in plenty of child abduction cases, although never from such an early stage. And never somebody I was close to.

I tramped down the road and checked each footpath leading off it. As I rooted round in the undergrowth, I thought over the scenarios.

If Tia had been taken, why? Was it because of Luke, me or Tia herself?

Luke was the obvious answer. Because of his money, Tia would make a great target for a hefty ransom. Then there was the business angle—had Luke pissed off any competitors lately? Revenge was so often a motivator.

Then there was the possibility Tia had been abducted by a whack job who simply wanted her. Maybe they had a long-running infatuation or saw an easy opportunity? I was inclined to discount the first option because if she’d been receiving unwanted attention, surely she’d have told me? The latter was a very real possibility, though.