Miss Fairmont and The Gentleman Investigator Page 3

  “You’re sure? Because I could always front you a few pounds.”

  “I already tried that,” Bobby said. “She won’t take money from strangers.” He winked.

  “Hey, taking help from a stranger got me into this mess in the first place,” she said.

  “How’s that, miss?” Detective Parker asked.

  “That man, Harry, helped me after I was knocked down by teenagers at the train station.”

  “This feels like a set-up,” the detective said. “He probably paid those boys to knock you over so he could get into your good graces and stay close to you.”

  “Why?” Her voice squeaked a pitch higher than usual. “What have I done to deserve this?”

  “Nothing, you’ve done nothing wrong,” Bobby said. “It’s not your fault. They’ll get the bastard.”

  “Transport Police will do their best,” Parker offered. “They’ve notified Newcastle Police to be on the lookout. In the meantime, we don’t have to worry about a repeat attack. He’s miles away from Edinburgh. You’re safe now.”

  Her attacker’s warning echoed in her mind: Traveling north of Edinburgh can be dangerous for a single girl.

  It was a hollow threat from a bully who picked on naive tourists. She’d be strong, gather her courage and finish what she came to do.

  SHE LOOKED adorable when she slept, Bobby thought, studying Grace Fairmont’s young features. She’d fallen asleep after an hour’s worth of conversation with Bobby and Detective Parker, but most of it had been with Bobby. With every passing minute he sensed she grew more comfortable with him, more relaxed.

  There was something open about her, yet fragile. A part of him wanted to shout in her face: Don’t trust me, I’m no good. I’m pretending to be something I’m not.

  And I obviously can’t protect you.

  But he couldn’t for so many reasons, his position with Blackwell topping the list.

  He’d been hired to do this simple job. If he wanted to make his way back to the Blackwell team in the States, he needed to follow orders and make sure she got safely home from her holiday.

  If he succeeded he could earn a bonus or maybe a higher spot on the team. There was a rumor that the Patron was going to start a second team and maybe Bobby could get in line for that promotion.

  He glanced at the sweet-faced Miss Fairmont. Her safety was worth nothing but a promotion to him.

  You really are a bastard, Finn.

  Detective Parker returned from making a call. “Someone spotted the man she described leaving the train station. Transport Police did a background on Harry Franklin, but nothing turned up on their wanted lists.”

  “It’s probably an alias,” Bobby said, watching Grace sleep. Fitfully, of course. He guessed she was both exhausted by her experience and terrified, as well.

  “What do you make of it?” Parker said, eyeing Bobby. “Simple mugging or something more?”

  “Sounds like a case of mistaken identity, but feels like more, doesn’t it?”

  Parker nodded. “What do you know about her?”

  “As much as you do,” he lied. He didn’t want to reveal his true assignment and complicate matters further. “She’s a fragile one.”

  And a bit secretive. Bobby sensed the American wasn’t being completely truthful about the attack. Why? What was she hiding?

  He’d read her file and had become familiar with the life of Grace Fairmont. An only child, her father raised her by himself until she turned eight, when he married. Grace was a straight-A student, a high achiever, yet instead of pursuing business she opted to teach science to teenagers.

  Bobby couldn’t understand it. He remembered what teenagers were like: emotionally fractured, insecure and angry. Why would anyone choose to be around that day in and day out?

  He didn’t understand her choice of careers any more than he understood today’s attack. There was definitely more to it than a random mugging. After all, the bloke had used flex cuffs and knew exactly how to subdue her without drawing unwanted attention. He’d timed it perfectly.

  Bobby’s ground his teeth at the thought of Grace being seriously injured while under his watchful eye.

  He wouldn’t let that happen.

  Yet he couldn’t protect her if he didn’t have her whole story. He stood and pulled out his mobile.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said to Parker.

  He went in between cars and called Eddie, Blackwell’s computer expert.

  “Eddie Malone.”

  “Hey, mate, it’s Bobby.”

  “Bobby! Hey, it’s Bobby from London,” he called out to the rest of the team. “What’s up, man?”

  “I need background. Grace Fairmont.”

  “Our client’s daughter? The one you’re playing bodyguard for?”

  At least he didn’t call Bobby a babysitter.

  “That’s the one,” Bobby said. “I want what the father might be keeping from us. Dig into the family’s background, her job contacts, mates from college, that sort of thing.”

  “So, let me get this straight: you want me to investigate our client?”

  “There’s been a development and I need to know intimate details about Grace and the Fairmont family.”

  “Okee-dokee.”

  “Also, do a search for Harry Franklin, Esquire. It’s probably an alias, but see what you can find. And…” He hesitated, not sure what compelled him to make the next request. “Get me everything you can on the girl’s boyfriend, the name’s in the file.”

  “This doesn’t sound like a simple bodyguard job.”

  “Just trying to get the key players straight in my head, mate. Nothing covert.”

  “Wait, Max wants to talk to you.”

  Great. Max would hear the tension in Bobby’s voice and inquire about his day.

  “Bobby? How’s the weather in London?”

  “Actually, guv, I’m in Scotland. Taking the rail up to Edinburgh.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Blast, did Max have such little faith in Bobby?

  “Fine, guv, why?”

  “I know this wasn’t the assignment you’d hoped for. But I gave it to you because I trust you, Bobby. I know you’ll take care of the girl.”

  “Well, actually, it got off to a rocky start. She was assaulted on the train.”

  “What? A random attack?”

  “Looks that way.” Bobby paused. “But it doesn’t feel that way.”

  “Follow your instincts, Bobby. Trust them.”

  “Like I did with Paul Reynolds?”

  “Let go of it, mate. He had everyone fooled, even his best friends. You said you thought he was too charming, too happy with the world. You knew something was wrong. You didn’t trust yourself. Sometimes you have to look beyond the facts.”

  Like into Grace Fairmont’s unsettled eyes?

  “I’ll press the father for more personal information,” Max said. “Maybe he’s keeping something from us.”

  “Thanks, guv.” Bobby heard the door slide open behind him. He turned and spotted Grace holding her mobile in her hand.

  “It’s a good thing she’s got you as her shadow, isn’t it?” Max said.

  “Sure. I’ve got to run.”

  “It’s two weeks, Bobby. Then you’ll be back with the team.”

  “Yes, sir.” He ended the call and smiled at Grace. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, Detective Parker said the reception’s better out here.” She motioned to her phone.

  “I’ll give you privacy, then.” He brushed past her, and she touched his jacket sleeve.

  “Thanks, again.”

  Glancing down into those green eyes of hers, Bobby read vulnerability, yet determination. But determination for what?

  Bobby Finn went into the passenger car and sat down across from the policeman. Grace sighed. She’d been so lucky that both of them were on her train. They were the strength she needed to ground herself after the attack.

  She gripped the metal pole as the memo
ries flashed to the surface. She’d thought Harry a nice, albeit pushy, guy who needed attention. There was no indication that he was dangerous.

  What did you expect, girl? It’s not like you’ve got street smarts, what with your father hovering over you most of your life, protecting you, sheltering you.

  If only Mom had been alive to balance things out, Dad wouldn’t have been so smothering. Yet he was trying to make up for that empty spot in Grace’s life where there should have been another parent.

  A loving, nurturing mother.

  “Enough,” she said, trying to shove back her frustration. That’s what this trip was about: Grace’s personal elixir, a way to finally let go of the questions and confusion, a way to look ahead instead of dwelling in the past, dwelling in the sadness of not knowing her mom.

  After she visited her mother’s hometown, and toured some of the spots written about in her journal, Grace would start a new, fresh life.

  At some point you have to let go.

  Grace called Steven. She’d calmly tell him what happened and ask him to wire her a few hundred pounds until she could replace her credit cards. She had to do it in such a way that he wouldn’t worry, or board the next British Airways flight to London.

  Sometimes, between her father and Steven, she felt as though she was being suffocated.

  Her call went into voice mail.

  “Hey, Steven, it’s Grace. I lost my wallet on the train to Scotland, can you believe it? Anyway, I was wondering if you could wire me some cash until I can get access to my bank account, just enough for a day or two. Sorry I have to ask. And don’t worry about me. There’s a former Scotland Yard inspector and Metro policeman on the train. They’re taking care of me. Anyway, we’ll be pulling into the station in a few minutes. You can reach me on my cell. Thanks.”

  She pressed End. Something at the bottom of the steps reflected back at her.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Her locket. She picked it up and rubbed the worn gold, its shine faded with age.

  She opened it.

  The picture of her mother was missing.

  Chapter Three

  Mom’s photograph. Gone.

  This trip was off to a horrible start for sure. First the mugging, now the missing picture. She wanted to call Dad and ask if he could send another, but then she’d have to tell him the whole ugly story. She wasn’t in the mood for lectures.

  She wanted a nice, quiet room where she could unwind, have a hot cup of tea and read through Mom’s journal. Again.

  At least she still had that. Thank God she’d packed it in her suitcase.

  She slipped the phone into her pocket and went back to her seat.

  “Everything okay?” Bobby asked.

  Bobby, the private detective on holiday. She could use his help right about now.

  No, she had to do this on her own, couldn’t trust anyone, especially not a stranger.

  “Good news, actually.” She held out the locket. “Found my locket.”

  “Brilliant,” Bobby said.

  “Mom’s picture is missing, though.”

  “Probably fell out when he dropped it,” Detective Parker offered.

  She squeezed it in her hand, the warmth of the metal easing the chill around her heart.

  A heart that had never felt completely whole as a child without a mother.

  She glanced at Bobby Finn whose eyes were intent on her. She was sure he could read her thoughts. Her gaze drifted out the window. She was anxious to reach the small town of Pitlochry where her mother had grown up.

  But now it would take her a few days to get there. She had to cancel her credit cards and wait for their replacements so she could continue her trip.

  She should call Dad, especially now that Steven knew something was up. Dad would probably lecture her about always keeping a stash of traveler’s checks handy. But she’d been rushed at work, organizing material for her substitute. She’d barely made it to the airport on time. It was only thanks to practical Steven that she’d made her flight.

  Steven, a nice, practical man, like her father. Not wild, passionate or unpredictable.

  Steven was exactly the type of man she knew she’d marry.

  Then why are you here, girl? Why didn’t you stay home and marry the guy?

  Good question. And one of many.

  They pulled into the station and climbed off the train. Bobby Finn grabbed her suitcase from the platform by the guard’s van. A British Transport Police officer was waiting for her.

  “Here’s my card,” Detective Parker said, writing something on the back. “I’m giving you my mobile number, as well.” He handed it to her. “Don’t hesitate to phone me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks for everything,” she said.

  “Nonsense, I didn’t do anything, but they’ll be able to help.” He nodded at the Transport Police officer. “Take care of her.” He offered his hand to Bobby. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Finn.”

  “Likewise.” They shook.

  Parker hailed a cab and disappeared into the night.

  “Miss?” The officer motioned for her to join him in the police car.

  She hesitated.

  “Want me to come with you?” Bobby said, slipping her suitcase onto the seat.

  “No, no, you’ve done enough.”

  “Here’s my mobile number, as well.” He handed her a card that read: Agent Bobby Finn, The Blackwell Group, with a Seattle address and phone number. “I’m just bumming in Scotland; I’ve got nothing pressing on my schedule.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She got into the car, panic filling her stomach, but she wasn’t sure why.

  “Don’t keep her too long,” Bobby said to the officer. “She’s had a rough go of it.”

  “We’ll make it brief,” he said.

  She shot Bobby one last smile, hoping he didn’t read the panic in her eyes.

  She felt a kinship with him. She knew intense experiences made a person crave a warped kind of security. And she sensed Bobby Finn wasn’t out to hurt her.

  “Ah, move over, I’m coming with.” He climbed in beside her.

  “Excuse me, sir?” the officer said.

  “I saw the man, as well. Maybe I can help.”

  He winked at Grace, and she knew he wasn’t coming along to help with the investigation. He was coming to support her. There were good people out there, too, people you could trust.

  “So, miss, your attacker stole your backpack and tied you up? Why do you think he’d do that?” the Transport Officer asked, pulling away from the station.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Do you have any personal enemies?”

  “None.” She’d lived her life as a pleaser, pleasing her father, her stepmom, even Steven.

  “And your mother?” the officer said.

  “I’m sorry?” A shudder raced across her shoulders.

  “Did she have any enemies?”

  “My mother’s been dead for years.”

  “I must have misunderstood. Didn’t the man who attacked you make reference to your mother?”

  “Yes, but Detective Parker and Mr. Finn thought it was a case of mistaken identity.” She glanced at Bobby, who narrowed his eyes at the officer.

  “Did he say anything else?” the officer pushed.

  Something felt odd about the interrogation in the police car. “He said,” she glanced at Bobby, “he said it can be dangerous for single girls traveling in Scotland.”

  “He said that?” Bobby said. “You didn’t mention it before.”

  “You’re on holiday. I didn’t want to involve you in all this.”

  Bobby glared at the back of the officer’s head. “Are we nearly there?”

  What, was he in that big of a hurry to get away from her, just because she didn’t tell him everything the mugger had said?

  Sure, of course. She’d attracted another controller into her life, a stranger who thought she owed him every last detail of her attack, probably so he could save her.

/>   Grace didn’t want to be saved or protected or smothered. She wanted a life where she could make her own decisions and plan her own future.

  But first she had to resolve the past.

  “What did you have in your backpack?” the officer asked. “Anything valuable?”

  “My wallet, a camera, makeup, a book, things like that.”

  “A mobile phone?”

  “No, I’ve got my phone with me.”

  “If you’re going to do the complete interview in the car, we’ll skip the trip to the station and you can drop us at a hotel,” Bobby said.

  “I’m just trying to get the details while it’s fresh in the girl’s mind.”

  The officer didn’t ask any more questions, and she wondered what had happened between the two men. Grace studied Bobby, who stared at the back of the guy’s head.

  He was angry. Why? It’s not like he was the one who was assaulted and had his belongings stolen. He was angry because she hadn’t taken him into her confidence, because she hadn’t given him control of her situation?

  The officer’s cell phone rang and he answered it. “I’m with the girl and her friend. Yes… I understand. We’ll be there momentarily.” He turned the car around and glanced into the rearview mirror. “Apparently there’s been a miscommunication,” he explained to Grace and Bobby. “They’re waiting back at Waverly Station. I apologize.”

  Grace just wanted some food and a hot bath.

  “Where are you from, mate?” Bobby asked him. “Your accent sounds familiar.”

  The officer didn’t answer. Bobby shook his head and glanced out the car window. Grace wondered what was going on between them.

  A few minutes later they pulled up to the station and Bobby got out, grabbing her suitcase.

  “They’re waiting for you inside,” the officer said.

  She and Bobby went into the station. She glanced around, expecting someone to greet them. There were few people left at the station at this time of night.

  Bobby motioned for her to sit on a bench and he sat beside her. “I’m sure they’ll find us.”

  A few minutes passed, and Grace fantasized about finally climbing into a soft bed after this mess of a day.

  “It will be over soon,” Bobby said, as if he’d read her thoughts.