30. Cagey
Chapter thirty
Cagey
Owen
I slept in. I never sleep in. I guess the food, the rest and the sun are doing good things for me. I wanted to hit the gym this morning, but the thought of being couped up in a room full of noisy machines, other people, and cold air-conditioning, felt suffocating. So here I am, running along the beachfront instead.
It’s hot, my muscles burn, but I keep going, the sand beneath my feet, the sun blazing behind me. It would be heaven if not for this feeling, a tension I can’t seem to get rid of from the events of yesterday.
I checked in with the staff again this morning, but all they said was I didn’t need to worry, the issue had been dealt with, and they didn’t need any help. They were still cagey as fuck. Not looking me in the eye, keeping themselves busy while I asked questions. Moving paperwork from one side of the desk to another. Fidgeting, evasive.
I don’t like it; they’re holding back on something. It could just be they don’t want guests knowing what happened, but I’m not your average guest. Although, they don’t know that.
My plan has come together the more I run. I’m a ghost and it’s time I use those skills to my advantage. I want to find out what they are hiding, and I will. By the time I see the others later, I’ll have what I need.
My body is wrecked, my chest heaving from the intensity of the heat, the speed and distance I ran, and I’m still healing from my fall. Shirtless and sweaty, I’m in desperate need of a shower.
I turned my phone back on this morning; I had messages and missed calls from Leon and the unit back home. I’ve not read them yet. I’ll answer them later when I get some answers about this woman. I’m sure Cole can help dig around for some more info if I can’t get what I need.
Putting my skills into action, I make my way back up to the main reception, where I find three members of staff, all in white shirts and blue shorts, sat talking to… fucking Grey! Sneaky bastard.
He sees me but makes no move to attract attention to me as I open the door to the office. The police were in here when I came through before my run. I want to know what was of interest to them if everything has been dealt with, like they said it had been.
Silently closing the door behind me, I keep my ear open for any signal Grey might offer me if the staff get nearby. I look through the logs from the day, staffing sheets, notes. Accessing the computer system is easy for someone like me. But I don’t see anything of use. Closing it down, I notice the floor plan, on the wall and snap a quick photo, If I’m going to find out what really happened yesterday, I need access to the security cameras they have. Skimming the monitors they have in here, it looks like it’s linked to a small hut that’s on the other side of the complex. That will be where they store the feeds. I’ll have to work quick. Most places only hold footage for twenty-four hours, and we are already encroaching that.
Pulling on the draws in the desk, they don’t budge. Finding what I need on top of the desk, a small screwdriver, I jiggle the lock, feeling the first click. Just as I start to slide open the draw, I hear the mumble of voice edging closer. Grey whistles his favourite ‘time to leave’ song—Ludacris’ “Move Bitch, Get Out the Way”, giving me my marching orders. Smirking, I take one last look around before I step out of the room, the door clicking shut behind me. A few paces out I come face to face with Grey and a member of staff trailing behind him.
His eyes narrow at me, but the smile on his face says we are both doing the same thing. Looking for more answers. It’s built into us.
“Been for a run?” Grey nods at my still soaked skin as the staff come into full view.
“No shit. What you up to?” Grey lives on his own schedule, sleeps the latest, but you can guarantee he will be there in a flash when he’s needed.
He playfully punches my arm. “Not been to bed yet, old man.” How the fuck he does that I have no idea. I can do it on a job, be up for days on end if I need to. But when the respite comes, I’m sleeping. No matter what.
The words I made her promise me come flooding back, like hitting a wall at full speed in a car. No matter what . Swallowing down the regret I have at leaving Charlie, I move around Grey to make my exit.
“I’ll see you at lunch. Give me thirty and I’ll be with you,” I call out as we pass.
“Deal, I need to get changed. I’m still in last night’s clothes,” he announces, and his hareem of new friends follow along with him.
“Good, you can tell me all about it then.”
“Will do, old man.” Glancing back, I narrow my eyes at him this time. He moves off with the staff, talking like they have known each other for years. Watching him split off as he heads towards his apartment. I head back to mine via the security room, which is currently locked tight. There should be someone on duty. Where are they?
Back in my suite, I walk to the outdoor shower on my terrace. I’ve had showers outside many times in my past life in the army. Fuck, most of them had been makeshift, just to get rid of the grime that surrounds the job sometimes, but this is pure unadulterated luxury.
I’ve opted for a cold shower, Charlie filling every waking thought this morning, even with everything going on. I can’t seem to rid my mind of the lucid images I see of her, imagining her here with me, in this shower, her white blond hair wet, sticking to her skin, the water cascading down her perfect tits, her nipples hardening from my touch, as I slide my fingers deep inside her. I can’t calm the raging hard on I have when I think of my beautiful angel. Taking my cock in my hand, fuck I miss her touch, I let out a groan, just thinking of her hands on me, fisting myself a little harder, thoughts of my last night alone with Charlie flit through my head like a movie on repeat.
Fuck, the more I think of her, the harder I get. The way her smooth, flawless body would melt to mine, the moans she would make while I fucked her with my fingers, making her come so hard I’d feel her wetness gliding down my hand, burring myself so deep inside her I’d almost explode the second I felt her heat wrap around my cock. Fucking her so hard, I’d lose control, bringing her to a peak all over again. Grunting at the memory, we fit together like nothing I have ever felt before. My hand hits the blue-tiled wall in front of me, gripping myself harder, my breath ragged, as the sparks of my own release come to life. My spine tingles with white hot sparks, flaring to life, as the need to come overtakes me, my breath shaky.
My balls draw up and I can’t hold back, fisting myself faster, harder. I come hard over the tiles, Charlie’s face etched in my mind.
“Sorry to break the bad news, guys, but I’m going to have to cut this little holiday short. We have a new case.” Dom places files in front of us as we push the rest of our empty plates from lunch to one side. No wonder they never joined us. They must have got all this ready.
“I’ve booked a meeting room down the hall from the office as our command centre. Read up on what we have so far. Meet us there in thirty.” with that, he moves towards the meeting room, Harley close on his heels.
I don’t open the file. I need to get back home to Charlie.
“Zan, give me the rundown.” He opens the file, speed reads the basics, and relays it back to me.
“London law firm has hired us. One of their partners was attacked on the property. His office was ransacked, he was left for dead. Currently in hospital with a very nasty head wound after taking a beating. That was five days ago.”
“What’s the job? We need to find the guys that did this to him?” My brows pinch together, waiting for the answer.
“No. Job’s is to find one of his confidential informants, an ex-employee, apparently she was working for him on the sly, feeding him info on a case they have been working on for…” He stops to look over the document again “Over three years.”
“Who’s the case against?” I can’t deny I’m intrigued.
“The one and only Mr Summers,” he says with a whistle. We all know that name. He’s bad news, really fucking bad news and the reason we have had to find and recover a few dozen people in the last few years.
“Shit, why are we looking for her?”
“From what I can gather, there was a leak in the company. She found something on Summers that could put him away for a long time.” His eyebrow raises.
“Fuck, she’s as good as dead if they get their hands on her.” Whoever this woman is, she needs more than luck on her side.
We all agree. Grey still has his head in the file, soaking up the information, shaking his head as he reads through the pages. We order one more coffee before we make our way to Dom and Harley in the meeting room.
Taking our seats around the large circular table, Dom’s set up a board ready for us to talk through what we have and find the best way to resolve this. “I know you’ve read the file, but I want to go over everything, get all your opinions. It doesn’t matter how small a detail you think it is, I want to know.
“We’ve been brought in on this case because of our location. It seems she was last seen here on the Island.” We all sit up a little straighter. “I have a feeling it was the incident that happened yesterday. We are approximately twenty hours behind her. If she has been taken, it’s a possibility she has been kidnapped, but I’m not ruling out anything else until we have confirmation either way.”
“We need to move fast if that’s the case,” Zan adds.
“We will be interviewing the staff, and the police have already told us to take what we need, they believe she’s not in the country anymore, and that she went home, her passport and travel case disappeared with her, They assume she took another flight home, but have been unable to trace her. It’s in our hands to prove this, and find her.”
“I’ve already spoken to the staff. We got friendly last night.” Grey winks. “They don’t know how it happened. Yesterday was her last day on the island. Her day was normal, arranged to meet the cocktail couple for a drink before she left, but she never showed up. The police were called after the café incident. They assumed it was the same person, but it’s not been confirmed. The footage for the area has been wiped from the system.”
“If she just gone home, why wipe the footage? It makes no sense. Someone's covering their tracks.” Varied versions of agreement muffle around the room.
“Okay, I need you,” Dom points to Grey, “to get that in a statement for me. I should be getting an image of the victim in a few minutes as soon as the police send me what I need.
“We need the images from the surveillance footage they have around the area. See what we can get from that. This is a high-risk case, guys. The law firm she worked for wants her found. She’s vital to putting Summers away.”
“Who discovered she was missing? Seems odd the firm wants her found. Who requested it?” I ask.
Dom stands and paces the room. “From what I can gather, they didn’t know she was missing. The guy that was attacked,” he opens the file to find the name, “Mr Simon Holland, had the victim’s information buried deep on his laptop. They knew nothing about what she was doing for him. They realised the information had been copied, then wiped from the login notifications on his computer, they checked after he was admitted to hospital. Rang to advise her and never heard back. They thought the worst, hired us to find her.” Makes sense if she is important to the case.
“What’s her name?”
“The staff called her Miss Charlie.”
Huh? It’s like she’s haunting me. Wait… Simon Holland, why do I know that name?
“What’s the law firm called?” I ask, my chest tightening.
“Holland and Brooke. It’s in the centre of London. One of the top three firms in the country. Why?” Dom’s questions drift away.
“What’s the victim's full name?” The restriction around my chest grows tighter. Everything goes a little colder as I bark the question out to no one in particular.
“Owen? Why do you look like you have seen a ghost?” Harley asks, clear interest in her voice. The door behind me opens, and in walks two police officers carrying a small box, no doubt containing the last few items, no longer needed as their investigation is closed. My question is lost in the interruption.
I don’t want to ask again; I don’t. I can’t hear it.
The answers in the file. I don’t want to look; I have to be wrong. It can’t be my Charlie. I know she used to work there. I know she was working on a high profile case when she left and I never thought anything of it. It can’t be her. Not my Charlie. My angel. She wouldn’t be doing that work behind our backs, would she?
It burns, the guilt rising like gas to an open flame. I’ve not been there. I’ve not been in touch. How would I know? Did anyone know? My whole body’s shaking.
Opening the file, I feel like I’m sinking. The voices in the room start to fade. It’s there on the first page, written as plain as day, Charlotte Hudson, missing.
The phone calls from Leon, it all makes sense. Why else would he call me so much over the last few days? He knows and was trying to tell me. Pulling my phone out, I bring up the app I’ve been using to check in with everyone. To check on her.
I can find her. A fluttering sensation spreads across my chest. Determination and hope mixing, pressing my lips together as I wait. The promise I made her keep, no matter what, the necklace, it’s been my lifeline to her. I can find her. It was a shit move before I left, but I put a tracker in it. I wanted to make sure she was safe, even from a distance.
I failed at that.
I will find her. Opening up the app, I hit her name, and it zooms in on her location, banging on the table. All eyes turn to me, confusion on their faces. I’m ready to run. I will find her.
“She’s still here.” The words are a whisper. The small dot on the screen says she is still here in this complex. How could I have not known she was right here?
The mumblings in the room stay that way as I try and get my head round what’s happening. “That’s the chick I saw surfing on the beach. Shit, man.” Looking over to where Zan’s stood swiping images on the table he’s just been handed from Dom. It can’t have been. She was so close. Standing up abruptly, I almost take the table out.
“Owen? Talk to me.” Harley’s concerned voice is serious, like she knows what’s happening; it’s just another sound I don’t hear. I’m drowning. I can’t break through the surface. The burning guilt and the sharp ice of fear in my veins burst through mixing together to create a desperation I have never felt before, not even when I was in the army.
A faint sound of metal hitting the table, and I’m drawn back to the room. Everyone is looking at me. The officers have gone, after dropping off what they found. I’m stood staring at my phone. How? When I look across to where the noise came from, my world breaks. Lying in a bag is the engraved necklace I had made for Charlie, its chain broken.
The roar that escapes me is feral.
“Charlie.”