Secret Reflection (24 page)

She faltered, feeling a little like a doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. She didn’t breathe … couldn’t … no man, not even Frank, had looked at her that way. Every nerve, every pore, seemed to sing as his gaze travelled over her. She imagined that he would have devoured her if he’d been able to step through the glass.

For a long moment he continued to stare at her, his eyes burning into hers. Heat flooded her body and moisture pooled between her thighs.

‘John … I—’ she began as she took an involuntary step forward. Her gaze shifted down his body and she saw his arousal. Stunned, her eyes darted to his and she recognised not only his yearning but the utter futility of such desire. ‘I’m so sorry … I shouldn’t have—’

Slowly turning his back, he said, ‘While it is a torture to look upon you, Kelly, it is a delicious torture.’

‘Can you … I mean … is there any way …?’

He raised a hand to stay her question. ‘If you are asking what I believe you are, the answer is no. Just as I cannot eat or sleep – I cannot find satisf—’

Leaving the rest unsaid he turned back, a wry smile playing at his lips even though he deliberately kept his eyes averted. ‘I beg you, Kelly, do not torture me further. Please cover yourself … although … I suppose it will be of no consequence now – in future whenever I look upon you I will see your delicate and beautiful body as it is before me now. My cousin is likely delighting in this unexpected victory.’

When she disappeared into the closet without another word he was grateful. She had no idea how much his fingers twitched to touch her pale skin. She was now engraved upon his mind with a clarity that he knew he could never forget. While he could do nothing to assuage such burning desire and his groin would long remain heavy with need, he knew what he felt was more than just lust. He would gladly give his life to hold her, just once,
even if his lust could never be satisfied. Despite all his best intentions he’d fallen in love with his saviour. And while he said she should not attempt further explorations, he hoped that somehow she would find a way to release him from this prison. The notion that he could spend years in a state of unfulfilled want, both physically and emotionally, would surely complete his journey into madness.

Once he had thought he’d loved Anne but now he knew he had not. He’d known a strong affection for her, and because of her youth he’d wanted to protect her but the well of feeling that now lay within his breast seemed almost suffocating in its intensity. When Nancy told him of Kelly’s injuries, he had been beside himself with fear for her. He should have known then that it was already too late to protect himself, that she would find a way inside his heart and learn the truth about Elizabeth.

‘That was your final warning.’ The voice on the phone brooked no argument. ‘Next time, we’ll break your legs and make a permanent mess of that pretty face of yours. You have seven days to get the money.’

Richard held the telephone so tight his fingers were turning white. ‘I told you. If you can give me another month, I can pay twice that …
more
.’ That meant less than a month to convince her to marry him, after which they could escape to the US until things died down. He could wire the money to Denny once they got there. Denny would have friends in America, the man had friends everywhere so there was no question he’d have to square up eventually.

‘Time’s about run out, my man. Pay up or pay the price – it’s that simple.’ Richard felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as the phone went dead. Until now Denny had been fairly tolerant, allowing him lots of leeway to settle his account. Richard had wondered, more than once, what in hell had made him so nasty lately.

Will Montgomery, Dee’s father, had been the man who’d delivered Denny’s ‘warning’. Never a man for subtlety, Will had always been a thug. He’d been Denny’s runner for years but Friday night was the first time he’d actually laid a finger on him.

Instead of replacing the receiver, Richard pressed the disconnect button then dialled the Montgomery house. Will answered after three rings.

‘Will?’ Richard began, ‘I am so sorry to hear about Dee … she was a nice kid.’

A low growl came down the line. ‘Nice kid? You thought she was a nice kid? You thought she was a nice piece of arse you sick bastard. Don’t worry, I’ll be telling the coppers all about you, Lord
bloody
Stanthorpe! I’m sure they’ll come up with some kind of child molestation charge as well!’

‘Huh? What are you talking about? As well as what?’

‘Murder, you arsehole!’

Richard went cold. God! Had Will known about Dee and him? Dee always swore he didn’t. Still, even if he did, the man couldn’t have any proof, Richard had always been extra careful about that. Never had anyone seen him and Dee together, and he made a point of flirting with all the girls at the bakery, not just Dee. He’d always used condoms … well,
almost always. And they’d never gotten up to mischief if there was anyone about the estate. If she snuck by to see him, she hid her bike and rode through the back woods where few ventured these days.

No, the man was just bluffing.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Will. I’ve never done anything to hurt your daughter. She worked for me! Look, I just wanted to pass on my condolences. How is young Eithne holding up?’

‘You stay away from my little girl, you paedophile. If I catch you within a mile of her I’ll kill ya meself! And don’t you dare step foot anywhere near the funeral. It’s all your fault my Deanna is dead.’

The phone buzzed in his ear and Richard reeled backward until he sprawled in an ungainly heap on the couch. Will
must
have known. Oh God! His heart began to pound so hard his chest felt like it’d burst. What was he going to do? With Denny after him, and now, if Will’s threat could be believed, the police as well, he really needed to get Kelly’s cooperation – and fast. He went straight to the liquor cabinet and grabbed the scotch. He didn’t bother with ice, tossing back two quick shots, neat. As the alcohol burned its way down his throat, his heartbeat began to slow. He downed another shot then took the bottle and glass back to the couch.

Rubbing his eyes until they hurt, he let out a long weary sigh. The police wouldn’t have any evidence, only Will’s rantings, but Richard couldn’t afford to take chances. Well, there was nothing for it … he’d have to seduce Kelly in the next few days. His charm hadn’t deserted him before. He’d just have to make her an offer she couldn’t resist. He tilted his head till he could see the crates stacked just beyond the kitchen.

Yes, the missing journal … that’d do it. He’d hint that he might have found it and ask her to come and take a look. She’d be so grateful. His face broke into a slow, lazy smile. He’d had the journal all along, had found it several years ago but hadn’t bothered reading much of it. After a few pages of ‘lovey dovey’ entries written like letters to the man’s insipid wife, Richard had wanted to puke. Pure schmaltz. Talk about lovesick! His predecessor must have been a weak, snivelling prick. Yet Richard had decided to keep the thing – after all it was very old and might prove to be valuable one day. He’d even sent it to an antiquarian in Scotland to have it authenticated. The man offered three thousand pounds for it, but Richard thought better of selling. Now he was glad he had because it might well be just the weapon he needed to win Kelly over.

It would be odd to have a wife, he thought. But that wouldn’t affect his lifestyle any. A psychiatrist once called it an addiction … but he preferred to think that he just couldn’t resist a beautiful woman. The overpriced psychiatrist who’d examined him at the tender age of sixteen had met her match though. He’d delighted in telling her the erotic details of his adventures in the village. After two sessions he had her so aroused that she’d lifted her skirts, all but panting for him. She’d been fat and old, but she had a warm pussy and once he’d had a sniff of that scent he couldn’t stop himself. Not that he’d wanted to. Twice a week they had wild sex in her office in Oxford as his mother sat innocently chain-smoking in
her car down in the street below. It was funny when he thought about it, his mother constantly worried about his mental state, while the woman who was supposed to be ‘fixing’ him took great delight in fulfilling every one of his carnal fantasies instead. Of course, she could no longer see him as a patient and he refused to see another psychiatrist. Their affair only lasted a few months before her conscience got the better of her. Last he heard she worked as a counsellor to rape victims at a refuge in Liverpool.

Rape, he mused, that was about the only sexual sin he’d never indulged in. He’d never needed to. His charm always won out and the chase was half the fun. Besides, in every town he always had a few backstops if his needs weren’t being met. Younger girls, or even the occasional boy, were often awed by his wealth and title and would succumb to his passions with little resistance. And they were loyal. It amazed him how loyal. None had ever reported him to the authorities, even when he asked for things they didn’t like.

That thought led him to another and he picked up the phone again – this time dialling a London number. A moment later Sonia’s husky voice purred into his ear.

‘Sonia, my sweet, what are you doing right now?’

She laughed that sexy laugh of hers and his body immediately reacted. Like Dee, Sonia was another he’d schooled for years. The daughter of one of his polo cronies, they’d had their first encounter before she turned fifteen. After her seventeenth birthday, a gay friend of his had agreed to give her an apprenticeship in his fashion house and she’d been only too pleased to move into a one-room London flat if it meant she’d escape life out in the countryside.

‘Why Ricky, I’m all alone and missing you. When are you coming back to town? Or are you just looking for a little phone sex?’

He glanced at the clock above his mantle. It was only a quarter past three … while the phone sex idea sounded tempting, he could be in town and between Sonia’s delicious thighs within a few hours.

Chuckling, he told her to put on her sexiest outfit, he’d be there in a while and if she’d been a really good girl he’d hang around and spend the night. He’d also avoid that copper who’d come looking for him while he was out riding earlier.

When he grabbed the keys to his Jaguar, he decided he felt better. He’d miss Dee, she really had been a sweet kid. Very sweet, but she had also become a liability. And while he didn’t discount Will’s threat entirely, he was fairly certain the man couldn’t prove a thing.

Perched on the bed with a light blanket over her legs, Kelly cast Inspector Mathieson a bland look as he crossed the threshold. Nancy and Tom followed. The inspector seated himself in the chair by the desk, while Nancy made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed. Tom remained just inside the door in order to fend off any other visitors.

‘Are you feeling any better, Ms Reid?’ he asked. She could tell he was just being polite.

Touching her forehead with her fingertips, she kept her face impassive. ‘The head still hurts but not as bad as it was.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ He retrieved his PDA and began tapping the stylus on the screen. ‘Have you remembered anything else about Deanna Montgomery’s death?’

She shook her head slowly. ‘I don’t know about her death, Inspector. I never saw her. I was unconscious. All I know about that is what you and Tom told me.’

He nodded and tapped some more.

‘The person you say hit you – apart from the smell, is there anything at all you can tell me? What exactly did you see and hear?’

Kelly related her movements from the time she exited her room until the time she woke up in the hospital. The only detail she omitted was John. Throughout her story the inspector studied her intently, his gaze boring into hers whenever he asked a question.

‘I get the clear impression that you aren’t being completely honest with me, Ms Reid.’

She glanced at the mirror, then back at Mathieson. ‘I don’t know what else I can tell you, Inspector.’

‘Why did you take that mirror with you into the passage?’ One black caterpillar brow arched. ‘After all, it must have been difficult carrying both the candle, and a heavy hand mirror.’

The room got suddenly hot and she hesitated to answer. What could she say that would sound even remotely believable?

Even as she swallowed down her fear Tom, bless him, jumped to her rescue. ‘I’d have taken it to see around corners and inside cavities. Being flat, you can slide it into places where you can’t otherwise go.’

Inspector Mathieson again faced her and raised both brows. ‘Is that the case, Ms Reid?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, though she knew she sounded far from convincing. She glanced at John who smiled his encouragement.

‘Later today, I will get you to walk me through the passage exactly as you did on the night in question.’ He pulled out some sheets of paper and laid them on the bed before her. ‘What are these, Ms Reid?’

They were the print-outs of the equipment Graham Zatz had sent her. If the inspector had done his job, he’d have looked at her emails and already knew where they came from. She’d never bothered with passwords on her email account. If something needed to be kept secret she never used emails.

Raising her eyes, she flashed him a weak smile. ‘They are for another story I’m working on, Inspector Mathieson. As you probably already know, I’m a journalist. I often work on more than one piece at a time.’

The inspector leaned back in the chair and set the PDA down on the desk. ‘Tell me about this other story.’

Frowning, she shook her head. ‘Sorry, Inspector, I can’t divulge anything about it at this stage but I can guarantee these pictures have nothing at all to do with Deanna’s death.’

‘Oh, come now, Ms Reid – you’re not a doctor, there’s no “confidentiality” in journalism.’

‘Perhaps not, but I am permitted to protect my sources. That story is only in its infancy so I really have nothing I can tell you right now.’

The inspector didn’t look happy and pinned her with his dark brown stare. ‘How well did you know Deanna Montgomery?’