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Damn brilliant kid.
***
“Bloody cops,” William muttered to himself. He stepped back into his shop and made motions as though he’d forgotten his jacket.
He could spot a tail from a mile away on a bad day, but the force must have cheaped out on training in the last couple of years because while they’d been ever-present since Anne had shown up accusing him of “murder most foul,” they’d barely made an effort not to be seen. It was more than irritating being followed everywhere. He’d expected they might tap his phones, too, if they hadn’t been so determined to nail him good and proper this time. He had half a mind to march up to the police station and demand that they take him out for dinner, first.
Ideally, Anne would do the honors, but he was a bit miffed at her for giving them his scent. No one else would’ve been so sharp to catch that the ring at the crime scene had been his. And it was all the more difficult to do business with police lurking around all the time.
On the outside, his business was Spencer’s Rare Books and Antiques. The deals he made on the side that were covered by importing and trading more mundane items, well, those were of the type that would’ve made dear old Dad proud. If he’d been bothering to talk to William since his arrest, that was. There were a lot of expectations, being the son of an international kingpin. A pity that these expectations never did William a damn bit of good.
“They’re right outside my door,” William said the moment his contact picked up.
“Are we still meeting tonight?”
“I don’t think I could possibly shake them. Puts a real damper on the evening, you know?” William leaned against a table and flicked a mote of dust from his vest. “We’ll have to have a bite some other time.”
“That’s disappointing.”
The voice on the other end was equally as British as his own, but a bit posher. William had never quite perfected the Received Pronunciation demanded of him when he’d been set off to school. As a result, his own accent was more inflected and less proper. He sort of liked it that way, sometimes. When in the right mood, he’d even play up the south London-ish bits. Seemed to make folks think he was a bit dangerous.
The fact that he could be, if he liked, probably helped that thought along.
“Isn’t it? We’ll have to go out proper sometime. Or order some takeout and catch up.”
After they’d said their goodbyes, William checked the locks on all the doors and headed outside to his dark gray Aston Martin. There, instead of getting inside immediately, he loitered, pulling out a cigarette and a flip-top lighter. After applying one to the other, he took a long drag and looked out toward the road. It seemed long and dry and almost endless, but he knew that if he went far enough, there would be life and bustle and sex. Antique shops and other curiosities tended not to be located on the Strip, but often just off, or further out into the dust. He’d considered locating his new business nearer to the university, but the chance that he might run into the little sister there was high, depending on what the girl’s interests were now. When he’d known Michelle, she had been an adorable little nerd. Dead obsessed with Harry Potter. Either way, William suspected that she wouldn’t be too friendly and that Anne would be less than pleased if he tried to buddy up to her sister again.
William let out a long string of smoke. He could see the lights of the Strip from here. It was harder to trail him when he was down there. Especially when he slipped on down to Freemont, where a lot more deals went down. He had no plans of being so obvious, however. He dropped the butt and ground it out with his heel, then got into his car. He started to drive back to the hotel.
As his Aston Martin zipped down the road, William could almost see Anne in his passenger seat, her hair billowing behind her as he revved the engine. It had been a different car. Same brand, different model. Up until that point, he’d never seen her look so relaxed. So free. From top to bottom, Anne had always been just a cop, wound too tight, with too much to prove. That night though, with the uniform at home and her hair loose, the other parts of her had seemed to unfurl, a vibrant young woman with layers and layers of wit, kindness, loss, and beauty. That had been the night that they’d told one another about losing their mothers. It had been the night when he’d devoured her tempting neck with kisses, and the night she’d let him.
His thoughts were drifting toward the image of her thighs peeking out of a pair of jean shorts when the blue and red lights began to flash behind him. What now? He’d done precisely nothing to warrant being pulled over. He’d even kept to the speed limit, something that he was almost morally opposed to, due to his stalkers with badges. With a huff of irritation, William pulled over and reached for his license.
