Chapter Two
Turning off at the lights, leaving Benedict Canyon Drive and the majority of the traffic in her rear-view mirror, she sped down the long Sherman Oaks Boulevard. The road teemed with clusters of convenience stores and a dozen or so minor residential streets, each lined with modest two-storey homes that branched off on either side. Counting each junction off, she swerved down the eighth to find the street chock-a-block with parked cars. Though her father’s house was more than halfway down the stretch, the sheer number of cars parked along it forced her to pull over beside the dark silhouette of a broken streetlight standing on the curve of the cul-de-sac that ended the road.
Overhead, the sky was black, night’s cloak having fully descended. There was no moon, but stars twinkled merrily overhead, dotted here and there, shining brightly against the all-consuming blackness in their ageless tapestries across the celestial sphere.
Turning off the ignition, she undid her seat belt, opened the door, and clambered out into the night, a shiver running down her spine as her hair began to flutter in the wind. Despite it being mid-October, there was an unseasonable bite in the night air and she drew her jacket close before retrieving Mark’s presents from the passenger side. Reaching into her jacket pocket and locking the SUV with a click of the fob, Mina started down the left-hand sidewalk, past nine near-identical, modest yet homely properties, and up the paved driveway.
Even from the bottom of the street, her father’s house was easy to spot. Parked across the sloping garden were half a dozen cars and a colourful banner draped from the roof, proclaiming ‘Happy Birthday Mark’ in red and gold glitter, but only half visible amidst the low glow of nearby street lights. Party music boomed from the open windows and door. As she walked up the drive, a group of young men were loitering on the doorstep, smoking and conversing amongst themselves in hushed tones.
Spotting her approach, the one that stood farthest back, leaning against the doorframe beneath the porch light with a cigarette dangling from his lips, gave a slight nod. The excessive amount of gel in his flaming red hair caused it to glisten like amber at the movement. All at once, the group fell silent and wheeled about to confront her. By their sheepish expressions, she could tell they were up to no good but she chose not to say anything. When they realised she was not a cop, the group begrudgingly shifted a step to let her pass.
Curls of pale smoke weaved around her as she stepped onto the porch, and the air was heavy with a sickly sweet aroma that had her stomach churning with the first breath.
Marijuana!
Taking care not to look any of them in the eye, Mina carried on without a second’s pause. She could feel the heat of their lecherous leers on her as she passed, following her every step and giving her an all-encompassing once-over before finally settling upon her backside. They watched her with all the subtlety of a pack of starving hyenas studying a zebra herd, sending a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold crawling up her spine.
Just as she was about to cross the house’s threshold, one of them muttered something she couldn’t hear that had the rest sniggering. Pausing mid-stride, Mina had a momentary impulse to wheel about and ask them if they’d like to take a picture, but then she put it from her mind. They weren’t worth the breath.
Inside, she found a scene straight out of American Pie. Music was blaring from an iPod boom dock speaker system that had been set up on the living room coffee table. Across the narrow foyer, she could see an aluminium beer keg in the kitchen amidst a buffet-style bonanza of party foods on disposable plates. And there were people everywhere either commingling in gangs of three or five, or gyrating mindlessly against one another to whatever musical abomination happened to be playing over the hi-fi.
The only thing missing is Seann William Scott shouting profanity.
As she surveyed the scene, Mina could hardly contain her look of amazement. While she’d known Mark had been given run of the house for the party, their parents having gone out for dinner and a show before spending the night in a hotel, she’d certainly never expected something so very, well, un-Mark.
She just hoped they didn’t destroy the house. It had not been easy getting her father to agree to the idea…
She should have known better than to let the conversation turn to the matter of money, let alone direct it there. But when they had drifted to the inevitable topic of Mark’s 21st birthday in two weeks, he’d said her stepbrother would be home from university that weekend and had asked to have the house for a party. Mina was so excited she couldn’t help herself. Mark had never been very social. While his friends had been playing in the park and going round each other’s houses after school, he’d spent hours playing Diablo and Crash Bandicoot.
In all the years they’d lived together, he’d never had more than a handful of friends round so there was no danger of the party getting out of hand, however her father had still been reluctant. She, on the other hand, made no effort to hide her enthusiasm. Without thinking, she’d offered to make arrangements for him and her stepmother to have dinner at her favourite seafood restaurant and then spend the night in a top hotel on La Cienega Boulevard.
“No, Mina.”
“But Daddy.”
“Absolutely not,” he snapped, his voice dangerously level as he watched her from behind the rim of his tea cup. His deep green eyes that had beamed at the sight of her only an hour before, were suddenly cold and impassive, an unmovable expression she knew all too well. “I’ve told you before, I pay my own way.”
Mina just wanted to squint, leer, and stick her tongue out. For a moment she considered telling him his way couldn’t cover so much as a starter at Le C?ur de la Mer, but then thought better of it.
As Sid James said, ‘We’re not called John Bull for nothing.’
They were in the Denny’s on Tiverton Avenue, seated at their usual booth in the far corner opposite the row of windows looking out at the tinted windows and clay brown bricks of the Palomino Restaurant and Bar across the road, having their usual brunch. It was unusually quiet for ten o’clock on a Sunday morning, with only a few groups of two and three at a handful of tables and one young blond waitress serving the floor. There were times Mina would have been glad of the solitude. She missed spending quality time with her father, sitting back on the sofa and discussing their day while watching his old Only Fools and Horses videos like they had when she was little. At this moment, she would have been glad of the distraction, or any distraction for that matter.
“Hiya, is everything okay? Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked, pausing at their table with a tray of dirties in each hand, her notepad tucked in her uniform trousers’ back pocket. Barely more than sixteen, with a head of fire-kissed curls hastily dragged back into a bun and an uneasy but friendly smile, she paid Mina little notice and the actress could have kissed her for her timing.
“No. We’re fine, thank you,” James Carring said, his eyes softening as he lowered the cup to the table and smiled amiably at the girl. “Could we have our cheque please?”
“Certainly, sir, I’ll be right ba…” The words died on her lips as she turned to carry on to the door leading through to the kitchen and her eyes fell on the older blonde. Sparkling blue pools widened in recognition. “Oh, my God! You’re Mina Car…well of course you are…I mean I just didn’t…I’m such a fan an…I just loved…and um…well, could I, that is, if you don’t mind, may I…” She seemed on the verge of a breakdown. In her excitement, her hands were shaking so violently it was a miracle both trays didn’t go clattering to the floor. Then a sudden calm fell over her and she took a deep breath before asking “can I have your autograph?”
Mina felt her cheeks growing hot and she had the sudden impulse to bury her face behind one of the standing menus on the table, or look out the window at the Palomino to watch the slow train of people walking the sidewalk. Or anywhere but at the waitress watching her expectantly and who looked like she might burst into tears at any moment. However, also very much aware of the eyes suddenly swivelling in their direction, with more than a few threatening camera phones, Mina chose not to humiliate the teen further. Her lips curled in a reassuring smile. “Sure.”
James Carring smiled bemusedly, his brow quirking with ill-disguised amusement, the way all parents did when they knew their children were embarrassed.
“Really!” the girl beamed, then her cheeks reddened and she looked away sheepishly. “Oh, my God. I’m so embarrassed, I can’t believe I just said that, but thank you. Thank you. Let me just get your bill and I’ll be right back.” With that, the waitress whirled around in a pirouette worthy of the Bolshoi, all but ran past several diners signalling for service, and through to the kitchen without dropping so much as a spoon.
Mina watched the younger woman disappear behind the swinging door with her mouth open. Half expecting to see her come bustling back in at any moment, she turned back to find her father had already taken his wallet from his coat pocket and was fingering through several twenties. She was about to tell him she’d cover it as he had paid last time, but he seemed to know her mind and shot her an imperious look that held her tongue.
Easing back into the red padding of her seat with a defeated sigh, she turned her eyes down to her unfinished chicken salad. She prodded one of the apple slices with her fork, the flesh all but saturated with dressing. He never changed. Why did he always have to be so English? Not only did he always insist on paying, but he doggedly refused to accept her help, even when he knew he couldn’t afford it.
“Well,” she began after a moment, steeling herself for a second assault. “How about this? I know the ma?tre d'. If you give him a ring and tell him you’re my dad, he’ll give you a discount.”
James’s finger paused and he looked up from the notes to fix his daughter with a sceptical eye. “A discount?”
“Yes, just a discount.” She gave him her sweetest smile, apprehension winding her insides into a chain of tight knots under her father’s scrutinising gaze. That very look had made her crumble often, made her feel like he was seeing through her masks to the little girl she’d once been.
For an instant, Mina thought her father might press her, to try and ferret out a lie. But he gave only a small nod, then drew forty dollars from his wallet and placed it down on the table. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He nodded again and Mina couldn’t help the trace of a smile that curled at the corner of her lips as she dragged her handbag from where she’d pinned it between the table and her foot and began rummaging inside for her phone. It wasn’t a complete lie. Grey if not white. She was on first-name terms with the ma?tre d' and he would let him have a table for two at a knocked down price, but only because Mina would be calling later today to explain the situation and arrange to have the lion’s share of the bill diverted to her account.
Her father watched her impassively as she copied the number from her phone onto a napkin. From his unmovable expression, it was hard to say whether or not he believed her, but he knew well enough his wife wanted Mark to enjoy his 21st and James Carring would do almost anything to see his wife smile. He took the napkin from her when she handed it across the table, glanced at it and then tucked it into his pocket along with the wallet.
“You’re still very fond of the boy, aren’t you?” he asked without looking at her.
Mina gave a small shrug. “He’s my little brother.” There was little point in denying it. Their parents had known how close she and Mark had become while growing up together. Though if they’d had any notion of how far that relationship had gone, she doubted they’d be quite so complacent. “What kind of sister would I be if I weren’t?”
“Yes.”
Across the diner, the waitress burst through the door to the kitchen, punched a few details into the computer at the pay station, and was then weaving a path back to their booth, bill in hand. James smiled at the look on the girl’s face, the way she tried to appear professional but couldn’t quite hide her excitement, then shot his daughter a sideways glance and added, “But he’s only your stepbrother.”
With her ears ringing from the raucous bombardment, Mina slipped into the mass of writhing hormones and weaved through the crowd. It had been several years since she last visited the house, but she found it had hardly changed and remained much the way she remembered it. The house had the same mocha carpet and pale beige walls adorned with hanging family photos. The same sturdy box-television sat in the living room, and cabinets sat opposite the grey four-seater settee, presently a makeshift bed for an amorous young couple engrossed in a heated game of tonsil-hockey. Her father’s faded chocolate leather Barcalounger in the far corner, beside his antique and securely locked liquor cabinet, was forgotten and almost completely buried beneath a mound of coats. Yet there was no sign of her stepbrother.
Depositing the bag amongst the other gifts encircling the television, only half pleased to see it was by far the largest, she turned on her heel and decided to check the kitchen. Mina tried to ignore the heads twisting in her direction as she edged around the improvised dance floor, pressing a path through the revellers, eyes peeled for any glimpse of Mark. Yet, as she weaved between the tight press of bodies, Mina couldn’t help but curiously eye their peculiar array of body art, hairstyles, and tattered ill-fitting attire. Was this what the ‘kids’ were into these days? At only 24, was she already so old? Then again, were they really so strange? When she was in school, she could recall baggy clothes, raiding shopping centres armed with spray paint, losing her virginity in the back seat of a 1969 Dodge Charger, and even occasionally snorting coke in clubs. But the phases that had come and gone as quickly as David Beckham’s haircuts. Was this merely how the modern youth rebelled against authority?
When she found Mark, would he still be that geeky, awkward teenager, or resemble the ill-fated love child of a central African tribesman and a ‘70s punk rocker…
She passed between the already ajar French doors to the large adjoining dining room, where a large group sat playing rounds of billiards, with their clothes as the stakes. Moving through to the kitchen, Mina muttered a curse under her breath.
Small but also practical, the kitchen had wide windows that looked out across the back garden, now swallowed in inky blackness. Fragments of light danced off the dull aluminium appliances, and the kitchen was as much a bustling hive of activity as it ever was. In the far corner, a tall, broad-shouldered man with rich black hair was talking to a beauty of a girl with a bob-cut of dirty-blond hair and whose high, bountiful bosom stretched the front of her tiny cotton sweater almost to ruin. By the windows, a trio of beer-splattered frat boys had made a game of juggling disposable cups and drinking a beer whenever they dropped one. There was a gaggle of girls gossiping and giggling, herds of boys posturing and showboating- yet still no sign of Mark.
A glint of gold caught her eye and a broad smile spread across her lips. Hung pride of place upon the inner wall in the sterling silver frame with swirling gold inlaid runes along the edges that she’d bought them for their last anniversary, was a photo from her father’s wedding day. It showed him standing on Descanso Beach, with pale white sand underfoot and the Catalina Casino sitting just above the sea’s calm blue waters in the background. He was resplendent in his tailored three-piece wedding suit and the top hat that hid his salt and pepper hair, and stood with a protective arm around his new bride, Alexis. She and Mark were there too. Mark, the nervous six-year-old best man, half hidden behind the groom’s legs, she the beaming flower girl at the head of the party, clutching a bouquet of white roses and clad in a gorgeous ivory satin gown that was an almost exact miniature duplicate of the bride’s wedding dress.
Had it really been fifteen years ago? It was almost inconceivable, yet the last decade had just seemed to fly by so fast. She had developed the habit of losing track of time. She could remember that day so vividly, however. Mark had been nervous, so nervous that when the moment came for him to pass the rings, his hand had been shaking so violently he had dropped them in the middle of the aisle. Alexis was the very definition of a blushing bride, graceful, demure, and utterly beyond all reproach even as she blindly tossed the bouquet in such a way that only Mina could have caught it. And her father…Mina had never seen him so happy. All throughout the day he had beamed with joy and just the sight of his new bride coming down the aisle had lifted years from his weathered face, banishing the spectre that had loomed over his shoulders for so many years.
The spectre was of course her mother. A ghost of a memory that had chased him from his home on the outskirts of the town of Bodmin, Cornwall, and hounded him across the Atlantic. For eight long years, Mina had watched her father flounder in a sea of depression, her young heart tortured by the clawing feeling of utter helplessness from knowing there was nothing she could do to help or, worse still, that she was the cause. He never said it. He loved her, adored her and lavished her with all the affection a father owes to his child. Yet she had seen it nonetheless. She had seen it in his eyes, in those pools of emerald green in the rare, unguarded moments when his walls came down and he did not see his daughter. When there was no love, emotion, or feeling in his gaze, only a question. Why? For she was the living reminder of the woman he had loved and lost, the shadow of the woman who had torn out his heart…
A deep rumble from her stomach shattered her contemplations. Suddenly very aware she hadn’t had any dinner, Mina shot a curious glance towards the food spread across the kitchen’s long rectangular island counter. It was the typical party selection- BBQ chicken wings, cocktail sausages, crisps, nachos and, around the large aluminium keg, a ring of pizza boxes that glistened with cheese and toppings. The sight enticed another complaining rumble from her stomach.
Unable to resist, Mina walked over and helped herself to a large slice of pepperoni pizza, her mouth watering with the first breath of its heady aroma. Taking a large bite, she moaned appreciatively as the forbidden morsel flooded her senses with flavours, and she turned around to find a raven-haired Adonis towering over her.
“Hey, you’re Mina, right?” Though noticeably quieter in the kitchen than the living room, he still had to raise his voice to be heard over the roar of the music. “Mina Carring, Mark’s stepsister?” At her perplexed nod of affirmation, he grinned, revealing two perfect rows of pearly whites. “Remember me?”
Taken aback, Mina took a reflexive step back before giving him a once over while chewing the delicious mouthful of bread, spiced meat, and melted cheese. While she couldn’t place where they might have come across each other before, upon closer inspection, there was something familiar about him. It wasn’t his face, though he was certainly comely, in a smouldering, clean-shaven, square-jawed, Hugh Jackman and Luke Evans sort of way. It was his eyes- she had seen them before. They were blue, flecked with spots of gold, and seemed to gleam with a mischievousness that she was sure had stolen a fair few hearts. Yes, she knew those eyes from somewhere. Over his shoulder, she glimpsed the blonde standing with her arms crossed, looking very put out and glaring at Mina with undisguised hostility.
A name formed on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach…
His grin never faltered. “It’s Daniel. Daniel Cornwell. You used to babysit me and Mark every Saturday.”
His words struck her like a lightning bolt and Mina had to resist the impulse to spit her mouthful of pizza across the floor. Forcibly, she swallowed the mouthful.
“What! No, you can’t be. Not little Danny.” She was almost certain her jaw must have dropped and her eyes glanced towards one of Mark’s old school year photos that hung on the kitchen wall, studying the dark-haired sprite standing next to Mark who had tormented her mercilessly every weekend. He may have grown taller, but there was no mistaking that impish grin. “Jesus Christ, you grew up.”
Daniel’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Yeah… well, I haven’t needed a babysitter for quite a while now.”
“So I see…” she almost purred, unable to resist noticing how his plain black polo-top stretched across his chiselled torso. Feeling suddenly warm, she tossed the partially devoured pizza slice back into its box before grabbing one of the nearby bottles of mineral water, unscrewing the lid and taking a long swig, washing the last of the dry bread down. The water was refreshingly chilled, however it did little to ease the warmth that spread through her abdomen. “So who’s your friend?” she asked after taking a second drink.
Daniel’s eyebrow arched, giving her a swarthy but quizzical look that would have had Roger Moore green with envy. Suddenly unable to muster the words, her throat as coarse and dry as sandpaper, she nodded towards the door leading through to the foyer before taking another drink from the water bottle. He followed her gaze just in time to watch the beauty he’d been speaking with moments before slink out of the kitchen.
Someone obviously can’t handle a little competition.
“Ooh, that’s Monica. We were friends in school and were just catching up,” he remarked in an innocent, offhanded tone that did not match the glint in his eyes.
“Yeah, if you say so…” Mina teased, her lips curling knowingly as she recalled how his eyes had been glued to the girl’s generous cleavage. Seemingly unaffected by her departure however, he never so much as blinked an eye when his would-be conquest grabbed another reveller’s arm in the hallway and proceeded to drag the stunned youth into the living room. “Well, she seems… special.”
Daniel turned to face her, and Mina felt her stomach tighten as his blue eyes looked into hers. Suddenly all traces of the boy she’d known so long ago were gone and instead, a man stood before her, wild and untamed with a fierce intensity in his gaze. For a moment, he was silent, but his eyes held her captive. He reached out to touch her cheek, his fingers rough against her softer skin. When he spoke, his voice was low and deep. “I’d forgotten just how beautiful you are.”
The kitchen felt very warm. Her heart quickened and she opened her mouth to speak, but the words stuck in her throat and her voice trembled beneath his gaze. His head began to dip forward, closing the gap between them. He had a very nice mouth, Mina decided, perfectly shaped. Drawn to his lips, she edged forward, her eyes growing heavy as she inhaled his strong, masculine scent. He smelled of salt and sand.
A loud splash shattered the moment, followed by roars of laughter and a slurred curse. Mina's heart jumped into her throat and her head snapped round. One of the jugglers, a ruby-faced youth with short sandy hair and a squat build, had mistaken his drink for one of the empties, hurling it into the air only for it to turn end over end, spilling the amber contents upon his head. Drenched from head to toe, with his clothes clinging to him and beer running down his face in rivulets, he performed an exaggerated bow as the sight had his friends doubling over in fits of laughter.
“Oi!” Daniel barked, his voice bristling with such naked anger that all three went stiff as he moved past Mina with his white-knuckled fists clenched at his sides. The kitchen fell silent, the music playing in the living room fading into the background. At once, all eyes turned on Daniel. The floor and walls seemed to tremble beneath the heavy thump of each slow, purposeful stride.
His height dwarfed everyone around him and when he finally came to stand over the three, Mina’s stomach tightened. She couldn’t tell if it was with arousal or fear, or both.
“This is not a fucking frat party,” he growled. His voice was low and he pronounced each word with deadly emphasis. “Now, I’m going to say this only once. If you want to clown around, then fuck off because I’ll ram these cups down your throats if I see you pulling this kind of shit again.” Coming to a stop barely a stride from them, he glared down at them, towering over the tallest by more than a foot. “Do I make myself clear?”
Only one, the drunkard dripping with beer and wearing a bemused grin, dared meet his gaze. He swayed slightly, shifted his weight between his feet, opened his mouth to speak, then lost his nerve as Daniel arched a brow. His hard eyes bore into the drunk kid's droopy sockets, and the youth turned his eyes down to the floor. All three nodded meekly.
He dismissed them with a curt sideways nod, sending all three bolting for the dining room, stumbling and tripping over each other in their haste to escape. Mina could barely keep her grin at bay as she watched them go. The ruby faced juggler fell flat on his face in the doorway and Mina glimpsed Daniel’s hard expression suddenly blossom into a broad smile. The sight had her heart fluttering in her breast, like a bird soaring to the heavens.
Oh God, what am I doing? Her stomach wound into knots. This is crazy! He’s Mark’s friend for fuck’s sake! The thought had her cheeks burning bright crimson. Forcing her attention back to the now, she found Daniel standing over her. Yet she saw only the mischievous-eyed boy. Hmm… Interesting. Where did that come from?
“W-well, that was… impressive.” Her voice was shaky, her lips tingling with the ghost of the kiss that almost was. “So, what are you doing with yourself now? Do you have a girlfriend or… something?” she stammered, desperate to distract herself from the smouldering fire burning through her centre, the words flowing from her without much thought. Realising what she’d asked, Mina’s cheeks burned all the fiercer and she took another draught from the almost empty bottle, hoping to drown in its clear depths.
Daniel’s grin broadened, the muscles beneath his skin stretching the left corner of his mouth almost all the way back to his ear. Then the golden flecks in his eyes glinted, and he took the bottle from her hand, tipped his head back, and began to drink. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched, eyes wide and mouth hanging ajar, entranced by the subtle motions of his stubble-roughened throat, his jugular rising and falling each time he swallowed, draining the bottle.
Hopelessly entranced, it was only by pure chance she glimpsed him watching her through the clear plastic out of the corner of her eye. Like a deer in the headlights, Mina stood rigid, her feet rooted to the floor. She should have been embarrassed, ashamed of being caught staring at him so brazenly. Yet the look in his eyes, so full of mischief and zealous confidence, sent a tingling rush surging through her centre.
Get a grip, girl! You can do this.
She held his gaze regardless, forcing herself to don the calm, stoic mask she displayed during auditions, determined not to betray any hint of the effect he was having on her.
Screwing the lid onto the empty water bottle, Daniel tossed it over his shoulder into the half-full rubbish bin. A single drop of water rolled down his chin, but he brushed it away casually with the pad of his thumb. The gesture left a slick trail across his jaw that Mina longed to taste.
“It’s girlfriends,” he confirmed, his smirk never faltering. “And no. No, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” His eyes peered down at her keenly, as if gauging her reaction, before he added, “Work doesn’t really leave much time for relationships.”
Despite herself, Mina couldn’t help but raise a slender eyebrow. “Oh? And just what manner of nefarious employment is that, then, young Daniel?” she asked. Her lips curled in a small, playful smile. “The last time I saw you, you were going to become the next Batman. You would even run around the house wearing your mother’s tights on your head for a cowl and cape. Did your dream come true? Is that it? Do you wander the dark city streets at night, fighting crime in a desperate quest to redeem yourself for how you tortured me as a child?”
“Not quite.” Though he had the good grace to appear embarrassed, her remark left only a small, temporary dent in his cool composure. “Actually, I’m in the army.”
“You’re kidding!” There was no need for her to feign surprise. It was as genuine as her disbelief. Mina's eyes narrowed suspiciously and she watched him closely. Yet his expression was as genuine as any she had ever seen, those gold-speckled eyes gazing into hers, intense, never wavering. If he was playing her false, then he was a better actor than most of the A-listers in Hollywood. Nevertheless, Mina wasn’t convinced. Deciding to play his game, she remarked, “Well, congratulations. And you just so happen to be out on parole for my little brother’s party. How very convenient.”
“Well, not exactly.” He gave her an innocent look that did not show in his eyes. “I wasn’t due any leave until June, but when I got Mark’s message about this birthday bash, I had a word with the base’s XO who owed me a favour, and voilà, here I stand.” He spread his powerful arms, emphasising his presence.
“Hmmm…” It was only sheer force of will that kept her withering look at bay, his game quickly wearing Mina’s patience. Yet he’d spoken easily, the words rolling off his silver tongue dripping with honey. No lie! “So the brass owes you favours?”
He dropped his hands back down to his sides and shrugged. “Sort of. His son went AWOL last year. After twenty days, I received a tip and found him in the penthouse of Hamburg’s Kempinski Hotel with two hookers and a rather shaken goat. He was stoned out of his mind.” He chuckled at the memory. “After confining him to the barracks, I had a private word with the Lieutenant Colonel. We made a deal. I agreed to report his son had voluntarily surrendered himself to me, and overlook his certain indiscretions, in exchange for him owing me a favour or two. I scratch his back, he scratches mine, as they say.”
“A tip told you where to find an XO’s son?” she repeated slowly, her brow knitting with confusion, the mask hiding her beginning to crack. Something didn’t feel right. No, it couldn’t be true. He was lying, he had always been lying. But what if…
“Yeah. I’m in the MPs,” he said, then added sourly, “It was a stupid decision, really. Crooked Nazi bastard could have had me arrested and on a charge of conduct unbecoming, dereliction of duty, and whatever other jumped-up charge he could make stick at any time. But I wagered he cared more about his career and the damage I could do to his prospects for promotion if word about his son’s little misadventure were to slip. After all, top-class hotels have such excellent security records these days.” However, Mina was no longer listening.
“The M… Ps…” Her throat was suddenly dry and there was a noticeable tremor in her voice as the words stuck there, the pit of her stomach plummeting. “You’re really serious, aren’t you? You’re not joking.”
His grumbling forgotten, Daniel gave her a half-smile. “Afraid so. Hmm… not quite what you expected?” She nodded meekly, unable to look him in the eye. “Well, I can’t say I ever envisioned myself as Captain America either. The shield’s a little cumbersome, but at least I don’t have to wear tights.”
Mina missed the joke. All at once, the world seemed to slip away into a roar of white noise at his words, and the inescapable implications coiled around them, hitting her like an icy wall of water, crashing over her head and down her spine to drive the bottom from the pit of her stomach. It can’t be… it just can’t be… At a loss, she could only stare up at him in incomprehension, watching him talk but hearing nothing. It couldn’t be true. No, she just didn’t want it to be true.
Daniel Cornwell had been Mark’s best friend since preschool. Yet despite their friendship, they were as different as gold and onyx. Mark was wiry, pale, and utterly beyond reproach while Danny was broad, dark, sly, and as prone to mischief as a chimpanzee, a damn sprite who had taken every opportunity to tease and torment her. Any time Mark had gotten into trouble it was always a sure thing that little Danny Cornwell would be at the root of it. It was difficult to imagine the routine, duty, and order of a soldier’s life appealing to that boy, never mind the Bow Street Runners. However, here he stood, and though her every instinct warned it was just another dirty trick he’d concocted to torment her, she believed him.
It was only when she felt the thrill of his gaze on her, raking over her naked skin through her clothes, that she realised he’d stopped talking. He loomed over her, his handsome face marred by a concerned expression that had his sexy lips pressed together in a tight frown, those mischievous gold-flecked eyes watching her with a note of concern.
Shit! Cursing inwardly, her cheeks grew hot under his gaze and she glanced away, avoiding meeting his eyes long enough to brush a wing of spun gold that had fallen out of place back behind her ear. “So… the military police huh…?” she forced herself to say. The words sounded strange to her, as though she were speaking another language for the first time, yet, whatever the tongue, the notion was no less ridiculous.
“I know. It’s crazy, right?” Daniel said, visibly relaxing and giving a small shrug of his very broad shoulders. “But I guess you could say I was inspired. I read a lot of the Jack Reacher novels in school.”
“And you’re enjoying it?” she asked awkwardly, unsure of what else to say, so giving voice to the first thought that occurred to her. “I-I mean you’re only this young once. Are you sure this is what you want to do with your life?”
“Jeez, relax, mum,” he laughed, rolling his eyes in a mocking gesture. “It’s not a career choice. I just want to do my bit, see the world, and score whatever points I can for myself along the way.”
In the living room a raucous cheer rose from the revellers as the music switched to a more popular song Mina still didn’t know. Daniel, meanwhile, appeared not to notice and instead developed a thoughtful look. “Though I suppose it could be something of a family trade now. Dad joined up when he was my age and Gramps was in the first wave on Omaha Beach. They enjoyed their time serving Uncle Sam, so when I dropped out of school, I thought why not? It beats flipping burgers at McDonald’s. So I signed my life away. Next thing I know, I’m out of boot and being shipped off to Germany.”
Mina couldn’t help but giggle playfully. He might very well be the sprite of memory, but in one thing he had not changed. He had a knack for making her laugh. “Well, I don’t know about Jack Reacher. Your life sounds more like the makings of a John Grisham novel. Blackmail, corruption- you should become an agent. Mine’s considering taking on a partner if you want me to put in a word for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” When he smiled, it was like the sun was breaking across the horizon and Mina felt her heart flutter against its cage as a bird would beat its wings.
What is he doing to me?
“So what about you? I hear you’re seeing that Jason Stoker from Insurrection,” he remarked, referring to the box office flop Jason had starred in. It had been released worldwide in December but had also been widely condemned. “Are things… good between the two of you?” Was that concern she heard, or mocking?
“Yeah, we’re fine,” she said with an offhanded twist to her lips. “We just moved in together last August, but how do you know about that? I don’t recall adding you on Facebook.” Mina’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
While she was hardly discreet, she never talked to the media about her personal life, publicly or off the record. As far as she was concerned, there was an invisible line dividing her career and her private life, and she never crossed it. Her Facebook account was one of the few places she posted intimate details, but to a contacts list consisting of around thirty of her closest friends and family. Unlike her Twitter profile, where she had over five hundred thousand followers, used solely to prank fellow celebrities. Orlando Bloom still hadn’t forgiven her for a little Photoshop experiment she’d pulled just before the premiere of Pirates of the Caribbean 5, and Justin Bieber had tried to get a restraining order against her IP address.
“Are you stalking me?” It was only half a joke. He is a soldier, after all, and an MP besides. Who knows what strings he can pull?
Daniel chuckled. “You got me. I hack into your webcam every night to watch you get done-up in Kate Beckinsale’s leather bodysuit and whip your little piggy.” His guffaw fell silent when he caught sight of the warning in her eyes. “No. I read a few articles in Dirt Roundup that had some paparazzi snapshots of the two of you walking hand-in-hand along the Santa Monica Pier before going to dinner at Cavatina. You know he’s gay, right?”
“What! Jason’s not-”
“So this is the sister we’ve all heard so much about,” a sly voice announced from across the kitchen. Her outburst died on her lips and Mina wheeled towards the source of the interruption to find four young men arrayed in a thin line, blocking the door leading through to the foyer. They all grinned wickedly and a shiver crept down her spine as she realised they all had their eyes on her. The one on the far left took an extra step forward to stand centre stage. Recognising his flaming hair, Mina realised these were the boys whom she’d encountered standing on the doorstep. “Well?” he asked. “Come on, Daniel, where are your manners? Introduce us.”
His easy smile finally faltered and Daniel’s lips pursed into a thin line as his eyes darted nervously towards her. But before she could ask what was wrong, he stepped into the space dividing her from them and swept out a hand towards the speaker.
“Mina, this is Sean.” Despite his broad grin and runner’s build, Mina couldn’t help but think that his beady eyes, flaming red hair and flat, stubby nose gave Sean the face of a ferret. Oblivious to her thoughts, Daniel was already gesturing to the remaining members of the group. “Eric,” he said, pointing towards a round-faced, pockmarked boy with listless brown hair, skin the colour of curdled milk, and dull green eyes, who stood at least a foot shorter than the rest. “Charlie,” who was a lean-figured male who appeared older than his years due to shoulder-length silver-blond hair, a stubble-roughened chin, and clever grey irises. “And this imposing brute is Victor.” Victor was the most striking of the lot. A broad, heavily muscled bruiser who dwarfed anyone in his shadow, who must have spent five hours a day in the gym and shaved his head twice a week to have his pate as smooth as marble.
Together they made an imposing, yet comical band of misfits. “They were in Mark’s and my homeroom in high school.” Daniel then waved his hand back towards her. “Gentleman,” he sullenly muttered the word like a cobra spitting venom. “This is Mark’s stepsister, Mina Carring.”
Forcing a friendly smile, Mina raised an open-palmed hand in greeting. “Hi.” None of them made any move to respond and instead, they just watched her, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. Her smile faded and the hand fell back to her side. “I’m not staying long, I just dropped by to wish Mark a happy birthday.”
Thin, gaunt-faced Charlie sniggered and gestured back over his shoulder towards the stairs in the foyer. “You just missed him,” he said. “He went up to his room about fifteen minutes ago. Had a little accident with his beer.”
“Thanks.” Nodding, Mina twisted back to Daniel and gave him a small smile. “Well, it was good to see you again, Danny.” He looked like he was about to say something, but she interceded him by leaning up on tiptoes and kissed him softly on the cheek. Then, spinning on her heel, she darted between Victor and Eric, and walked briskly down the hall. She narrowly avoided barrelling into a startled boy carrying two cups of beer in each hand as she bolted up the sweeping stairs, taking the shallow steps three at a time.
What was all that about? she wondered, thinking back to the encounter in the kitchen and the change that had come over Daniel. A shudder crept down her spine. She couldn’t explain it, but upon seeing him standing on the porch, she’d taken an instant disliking to Sean.
It’s his eyes.
When he looked at her, they sat in their sockets like bergs floating on the ocean- cold and blue and only hinting at a danger lurking beneath the surface. And there was something else, a sort of madness that had nothing to do with the effects of the drugs. Did Daniel have some sort of history with Sean and those three other clowns? If so, then it was a sure thing that Mark had an equal share in it. So what were they doing here?
Despite the hive of activity and commotion below, the house’s second floor landing was utterly deserted. Turning left at the top of the stairs, the soft carpet underfoot and the deep thunder of the party below muffling her steps, she swept down the dim, narrow passage, passing the door of her old room on her left and two others on her right. Stopping outside Mark's door, the last on the left, she raised a hand to kno-
What was that?
The sound was small, barely more than a whisper, yet it struck a chord that had Mina suddenly still as stone. There it was again, the whisper of a voice, too faint to understand but recognisable all the same.
He can’t be.
Dropping her hand to her side, Mina sank to her knees and pressed her ear against the door, straining to hear over the ruckus going on downstairs.
A puckish smirk turned the corner of her full rosy lips.
He is!