Chapter Four #2
Aurelia glances at me. I slide my hands into my trouser pockets and hunch my shoulders, embarrassed.
“Yeah,” she says, “if you like bears that are more grizzly than teddy.”
Gracie giggles. “All right, sweetie. Catcha later. And let me know how it goes with Dom.”
“Will do.” Aurelia waves as she walks away. Then she turns to me.
“You’re meeting your ex?” I query. “Tomorrow?”
“For lunch, yeah.”
“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of that?”
“Why would you want to do that?”
Marcus has given me some background to their breakup.
He didn’t like Dominic Blackthorne, who’s a financial advisor in the city.
He said that toward the end of their relationship, Dominic would often cut Aurelia off in mid-sentence or correct what she was saying, and apparently he began laying down the law and telling her that he didn’t like her seeing certain friends.
Marcus won’t like her seeing him, especially considering we haven’t yet discovered the identity of her stalker.
But I can’t tell Aurelia that. So instead I say, “Makes no difference to me, ma’am.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m going back to the office now. I’ll meet you there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She walks away, back to the green Range Rover.
I get back in my car. She’s already heading off into the traffic, so I quickly start the Skoda and follow her.
In less than a minute, it’s clear that she’s not going back to the office.
She puts her foot down and catches a light that’s on the verge of changing to red, forcing me to stop and wait. By the time I get going again, she’s rounded the corner and vanished.
Cursing, I get Rick to track her. She starts heading back to the CBD, but on the way she turns south and picks up State Highway 1. Jesus, where is she going now? I follow at a distance, and Rick eventually confirms she’s turned off at Sylvia Park Shopping Center.
I eventually find her in a boutique clothing store.
She sees me and gives a short laugh. “Seriously?” She hangs the dress she was holding on the rack and puts her hands on her hips.
I stand in front of her, fold my arms, and glare at her.
She moistens her lips. “You’re pretty good.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you know where I am?”
I don’t say anything.
Eventually, she says, “Are you tracking my phone?”
I don’t reply. We are, of course, plus we’ve attached a device to the bottom of her car.
“I’m really not happy about this,” she says.
“Imagine my surprise.”
“Imagine my surprise, ma’am.”
Again, I don’t reply.
“This isn’t working,” she states.
“Seems to me it’s working just fine.”
“I feel so… claustrophobic.” She blinks, and for the first time, her eyes shine and her chest heaves.
I find it hard not to be touched by her obvious emotion.
I can only imagine how frustrating it is to be followed all the time, especially in a country in which women are supposed to be free.
Equally, Marcus went into great detail about her exceptional talents for manipulation.
He told me how she’s used tears to get her own way since she was a kid, and how she’s able to wrap most men around her little finger.
“Are you faking this?” I ask with a frown.
She blinks and lifts her chin. “I never fake anything, dahling.”
If I were a lesser man, I’d have blushed.
She doesn’t look triumphant at my discomfort, though. Instead, she swallows and drops her gaze to her shoes, and blows out a somewhat shaky breath. I think she’s genuinely feeling emotional.
Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, I say, “I know this is tough for you, but we’re only doing it to keep you safe.”
She frowns. Her big green eyes are shiny, but also hard. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing, ma’am,” I reply, hating having to lie to her.
She clenches her jaw, clearly resentful. But eventually she looks away. “Whatever. I’m going to try on some clothes.”
She tries to lose me again half a dozen times in the shopping center. Each time, I track her down. By the end, I’m not sure which one of us is the most frustrated.
“Don’t worry, I’m going back to the office,” she tells me eventually, when I find her having a coffee in a tiny café at the end of the center.
“Thank Christ,” I say with feeling.
She finishes off her coffee and gets to her feet with her bags. “Ready to quit yet?”
“I’m not the quitting type.”
“We’ll see.”
I feel a surge of frustration. “Aurelia…”
She lifts her eyebrows and says in a flirty tone, “Ooh, are we on first-name terms now?”
The shopping center is busy, and I move closer to her to give the crowd behind me more room to pass.
I look down at her, into her green eyes.
She’s feisty, confident, and courageous, but she’s also tiny and fragile-looking.
I hate the thought of some guy watching her.
Is he here now? I glance around automatically, but the place is too busy, and it’s impossible to pinpoint any one man.
My gaze comes back to her. She’s still watching me.
“Try not to be so serious about it,” she says softly. “I do appreciate your vigilance, but I’m really not in any danger.”
Acid rising from my stomach makes me a little queasy. My job would be much easier if I told her the truth… but I can’t bear the thought of seeing fear in her eyes.
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmur.
She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again and walks off.
I follow her, just a few steps behind, until she gets to her car. I’ve parked nearby, and I get in the Skoda and wait for her to drive off, then follow at a reasonable distance.
“Princess is heading back to the office,” I say to Rick.
“Received,” he replies in my ear. “Oh, and Theo confirms no fingerprints on the card.”
I sigh. “Copy that. Oh, she’s going to see Dominic tomorrow for lunch.”
“Ah. You can’t put her off?”
“Not if I don’t want her to get suspicious. I guess she’ll assume she has a secret admirer. Anyway, I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, unless she decides to do a detour.”
He laughs. “Copy that.”
As I drive, I think about Dominic Blackthorne. Aurelia won’t like me attending her lunch, but I’m going to insist, because I need to cross him off our list of suspects.
Hell, who am I kidding? I’m pretty convinced he’s not our mystery guy. I want to meet him because he’s her ex.
What kind of guy does Aurelia Ashford find attractive?
And why is she meeting him? Is she thinking about getting back together with him?
Honestly, providing he isn’t the stalker, moving back in with him would be safer for her.
But I don’t like the idea of her being with someone who wants to control who she sees.
Then I remember her words to me, I feel so… claustrophobic. I’m the one making her feel like that. I’m as bad as Dominic, in many ways.
Glowering, I huff a sigh of frustration, and follow her car off the sliproad toward the CBD.