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I find a broom propped up in the corner of the shop and start sweeping the glass into a pile. ‘Weird how?’
‘In every way! She’s not asked me to change out of my Cons and cap. She’s not even told me to wash my hands before entering the kitchen. She keeps playing with my hair, but she hasn’t tried to tie it up all neat. And don’t get me started on the girl talk.’
I laugh lightly, grateful for the alleviation of stress for a while, courtesy of my Cabbage. ‘Girl talk?’ Should I have asked?
‘Boys. Love. That kind of thing.’
Definitely shouldn’t have asked. ‘Where’s your mother?’ She’s talking far too openly and loudly for Darcy to be in the vicinity.
‘Gone to change into some slobby clothes.’
Yikes. This is serious. ‘Does she have slobby clothes?’
‘No! She has silk robes. When will you be here?’
‘That’s the thing,’ I say, guilt consuming me already. ‘I’m with Hannah. She’s not feeling very well.’
‘Oh, what’s up with her?’
I set the broom aside and go to the door, collecting up the broken bolt and inspecting it. I’ll need my tools to sort this. ‘Just a bug, I think. Nothing serious. But would you mind if I stay and take care of her?’ I find my shoulders rising, nervous for her reaction as I make sure the latch is secure on the door.
‘You’ll probably catch it, if you haven’t already with all that snogging you two have been doing.’ She pitters off to a whisper toward the end, which means Darcy is back in her slobby clothes.
‘Ta-dah!’ I hear her sing in the background. ‘Perfect, don’t you think?’
‘Fabulous, Mum.’ I can hear the exasperation in Alex’s voice. ‘Dad, seriously, I’m confused,’ she hisses down the line. ‘What am I supposed to do with her?’
‘Embrace it, Cabbage. She’s making an effort.’
‘Fine.’
‘Don’t say fine.’
‘Super!’ she yells, making me wince. ‘What am I going to tell her?’
Good point. I need to find a way to break my relationship with Hannah to Darcy. I wouldn’t have thought she’d care before I learned how concerned Alex is. ‘Tell her someone drove into my truck.’ It’s not a lie. ‘Say I had to take it back to the cabin.’
‘She’s going to be devastated. You should see these burgers. They’re like magical or something.’
‘They can’t be better than mine.’
She snorts. ‘Never. Say hi to Hannah for me.’ She hangs up and I go in search of a dustpan, wondering, like Alex, what the hell has gotten into Darcy. She’s a mystery.
I stop in the kitchen and look up at the ceiling. Not as big a mystery as what’s upstairs, though. I rest back on the counter and spin my phone in my hand, thinking about . . .
Don’t think, Ryan. Do it.
I dial Lucinda and quickly go to the door that leads up to Hannah’s apartment, checking that the coast is clear before gently closing it.
‘Tell me you’re coming back to London,’ Lucinda blurts in greeting. ‘Tell me you hate Hampton. Tell me I can put you on the next job.’
‘Hampton is great.’
‘Fuck Hampton,’ she spits. ‘So to what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘I need a favour.’ I cut to the chase. I know Lucinda will appreciate it. She’s not a woman to mince her words; I learned that many years ago.
‘And what do I get in return?’
Case in point.
‘Fucking hell, Lucinda, what’s a man got to do?’
‘Well,’ she purrs. ‘Since you’ve asked . . .’
I recoil. ‘It was rhetorical.’
She cackles wickedly. ‘What do you want?’
‘I need you to look into someone for me.’
‘Name?’
‘Hannah Bright.’
‘Reason?’
My head drops heavily. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. ‘Please, Luce.’
She’s silent for a second, and I imagine her at her desk, a glass of wine set to the side, already typing in Hannah’s name on the keyboard. ‘What else can you give me?’
I quickly check past the door to her apartment again before I speak. ‘Early-thirties, blond, mother dead, owns an art shop in Hampton.’
I hear the tapping. ‘Cute. I’ll see what I can turn up.’
‘Thanks.’
She doesn’t acknowledge my gratitude, just hangs up. It’s probably a good thing, because a second later Hannah appears. I slip my phone back into my pocket and smile. ‘Okay?’
‘I thought you’d gotten lost.’
I claim her and steer her back up the stairs. ‘I’ll need to fix the bolt tomorrow when I have my tools.’
‘Is the door secure?’ she asks, looking back over her shoulder.
‘Perfectly,’ I say, if only to settle her. Anyone who knows what they’re doing would break in easily. I did, even with the bolts. ‘And I’m not going anywhere.’
I take us to her room and pull back the sheets, motioning with a nod of my head for her to get in as I take the gun from the back of my jeans and smack the magazine back into place. She watches me closely as I open the top drawer of her nightstand and put it inside. What the fuck am I doing? I honestly have no clue. Take it? Leave it? She has it for a reason, and until I find out what that reason is, I’m just gonna have to go with my gut. My gut says the gun stays.
