Chapter 28
NICK
The accounts books were all out of order.
At first he though Alex might have done it, going through them ahead of him to look for ammunition.
But she hadn’t been into the storeroom where he kept them, and all his current records were on the laptop.
Besides, these went back years, from long before Theo had arrived.
They had packed it all away when they switched to the online system.
But Nick had been so careful to make sure they were in order.
They weren’t now.
He’d have to take everything out, go through the books, and put them all back in order. It was going to take hours. But if she wanted to see the originals…
He definitely wasn’t hiding from her. And he wasn’t replaying the conversation she’d had with her friends through his mind.
Nothing is going to happen between me and Nick, Gabe. Nothing at all.
She’d been so lost and afraid when he’d come into the kitchen, straight from the wild wood and the night. All he had wanted was to fold his arms around her and comfort her. And then she said that.
It shouldn’t bother him. It was the best thing, the right thing.
He needed to stay away from her, he knew that.
That was what had sent him out to the woods in the first place, to ground himself, to get some perspective, to put distance between them and combat whatever seemed intent on forcing the two of them together.
Because he wanted her. She was all he could think of now. Alex O’Neill…
Instead, he had spent a whole day and a night trying to keep his distance again. The house was quiet, biding its time probably. And she was locked away working on her book or preparing for her investigation. He didn’t know. He didn’t dare ask. It was better to keep away from each other.
It simply wasn’t helping. She was all he could think about. Her body in his arms, his mouth on hers, Alex whispering his name…
His gaze snagged on the notebook. It shouldn’t have been here at all.
That one belonged in the study. It was one of her grandfather’s, leather-bound, with thick cream paper.
He’d had them shipped over from somewhere on the continent and used to write up all his research into them.
It might help her. But why was it in here?
The professor had studied the house for years, obsessed over it and its history and, like Sally and her family, was determined to keep whatever was infesting it locked away.
He flicked it open, reading the elegant script looping across the page. Dates, names, references to papers, even something that looked like diary entries.
Nick had accidentally inserted himself into her family too much already. He’d just hand it over. That was for the best.
The sound of a van outside brought his attention back to the world around them. The equipment Alex’s friend had ordered for her was due today. He didn’t want them to leave it sitting outside if it rained so he locked the storeroom and went to the front of the house to take the delivery.
The back of the van stood open, and a wiry man was struggling to haul out a box.
Nick went to help and found himself face to face with Seán MacBride from the village.
He’d never liked the miserable git, who was always ready with a snide remark behind someone’s back, especially Nick’s.
Sally had called him a chancer, when she was feeling generous.
Theo had called him a little bastard. To his face on several occasions.
‘Nick!’ he squawked, and almost dropped the box. Nick caught it. The last thing he needed was for Alex’s expensive equipment to be damaged because he’d scared the delivery man.
‘New job?’ he asked.
‘Er… yeah. You know. Filling in.’ That made more sense. He didn’t see Seán holding down a job for long. They carried the boxes to the back door and then Seán went back to the van, reaching into the front passenger seat. ‘There’s… uh… there’s these too.’
It was a bouquet of flowers, dahlias, so dark a red they were almost black.
‘Who from?’ he asked, taking them.
Seán gave his trademark snide little laugh, the one that always put Nick’s teeth on edge. ‘She must have a secret admirer. There’s a note. Make sure she gets it, won’t you?’
He jumped back into the van and took off down the drive in a spray of gravel.
Now was as good a time as any. Nick knocked on the study door. He’d give her the flowers and then bring in the equipment for her.
Alex opened the door, smiling to see him there, and so he recognised the instant that she realised what he was carrying. Her face froze, the colour draining from her cheeks, and she all but threw herself back from him.
‘Alex?’ he gasped, moving to catch her but she raised her hands as if warding him off and collided with the back of one of the armchairs.
‘Where the fuck did they come from?’ Her voice sounded strangled.
Nick stared from her to the flowers and back again, completely confused.
‘The delivery guy brought them. Well, Seán from the village. Moonlighting probably. He said you have a secret admirer. There’s a note.
’ He plucked it out from among the blooms and held it out to her. Alex didn’t move. She was frozen there.
‘Read it,’ she said.
Nick put the flowers down on top of the nearest cabinet and opened the little envelope. There was a card inside. ‘Thinking of you’ was embossed on the front and ‘and all the things we’ll do’ had been printed onto a sticker inside. That was it. It looked totally innocent.
He held it out to her again but she didn’t move. She was trembling. Nick put it down with the flowers.
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘Alex, please? Talk to me?’
‘Did you – are they from you? Is this a trick to—’
‘No.’
God, he was going to kill Seán. He kept picturing the nasty git’s smile and realised he’d known she’d react like this. He’d fucking known.
Nick spread his hands wide, trying desperately to show her he meant no harm. He’d always known he was big and intimidating. He used it in the past when he had to, on thugs, on poachers, on bastards like Seán MacBride. And he would again.
But not now. Not with her.
‘Alex, please, I’m sorry. Just explain it to me. Like I’m an idiot.’
Because he was. Clearly.
She sank into the chair. ‘Will you just get rid of the flowers? Please?’
Nick had never picked something up so fast or hurled it out into the hall quite so hard.
Alex’s eyes were closed and she pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to ward off a headache, or tears. Nick waited, worrying his fingers together. He’d never seen anyone react like this. Not to flowers.
After a moment she moved, more like an automaton than a living breathing human, grabbed her laptop and after briefly doing something with it, handed it to him. Her email was open on the screen, a subfolder filled with unread messages. So many of them. All of them vile.
Nick put it down on the desk. She was sitting down again, her head in her hands.
‘What is that?’
‘Ed set up a script that filters them before I see them, and auto-forwards them to the cops. Not that there’s a lot that can be done about them. But at least I don’t have to deal with it. I mostly just try to forget it’s there.’
‘Abusive emails?’
‘I wish that was all,’ she murmured. Nick didn’t dare move.
He didn’t dare speak. He had to wait. It was excruciating.
‘We had a case,’ Alex said at last. ‘Ted Sanderson. He was obsessed with the Black Dahlia murder, Elizabeth Short. She was killed in 1947 in LA. It was brutal, horrible and no one ever found out who did it. Sanderson tormented his daughters, made them believe that whoever killed Elizabeth was coming for them too, that it was a demon. And he loved the celebrity of it, thrived on every second of notoriety. There was no demon, of course. I exposed him on the show and he was arrested. I testified against him. He went online and tapped into a whole world of men who hate women like me. They used to send me black dahlias with innocuous little messages, just like that. Every week. Sometimes every day.’
She shuddered and looked up at him, wide-eyed.
‘You think this came from them?’
The glare she turned on him then was terrible. ‘Or from you. An attempt to get rid of me. Frighten me off.’
That… that had never occurred to him. Cursing, he realised he was still standing there, too big, too threatening, the man who had made no secret of the fact he had never wanted her here and wanted her to leave as soon as possible.
The man who frightened her. God, this was…
this was not what he’d intended. Carefully, he sank to his knees in front of her.
Alex watched him and the wariness in her eyes made his heart ache.
‘The delivery man brought it.’ And later on I’m going to deal with him too.
‘I didn’t realise. I knew you left your show. I didn’t know any of that.’
What she must have gone through, was still going through… God, if he could get his hands on Sanderson or any of his followers right now… What were the cops even doing?
‘Well, I didn’t exactly make it public.’
‘Is that why you left the show?’
‘And the States. It wasn’t worth giving them the target anymore. I guess they’ve found out where I am then. There was a guy in the village, when I had lunch in the pub. I thought maybe… he knew who I was.’
‘Seán MacBride?’ He ground out the name.
‘Yeah, Seán something.’ She sounded so tired, exhausted. And all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms. But he didn’t dare touch her. Not now. ‘That was what Fionnuala said.’
Oh yeah, Nick was going to kill him. ‘Seán brought them with him. He was driving the delivery truck with your equipment.’ Alex’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears and she bit her lower lip.
Nick felt something twist inside him, a new type of anguish.
‘I’ll deal with him. Worse, I’ll tell Patricia and she’ll deal with him. She’s friends with his mum.’
‘Why do they always live with their mum?’ Alex murmured numbly.
‘I’m sorry I accused you. It was… it was a shock.
They know where I am now.’ She put her head down in her hands again, trying to calm her breathing.
She looked like she was about to have a panic attack.
‘I’ll have to find somewhere else. I’ll pack and…
and maybe you could drop me to the train or… ’
‘You aren’t leaving,’ he said aghast.
She barked out a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, come on, Nick, I thought that was what you wanted.’
‘Not now. Not like this. Not because of them.’ This time he did reach out and take her hands in hers…
carefully, gingerly, stroking the skin as softly as he could.
And to his amazement, she let him. ‘I won’t let them get near you.
I won’t let anyone hurt you, Alex. I promise.
I’ll protect you.’ The words felt right and true.
Nothing had ever felt quite so right. ‘Alex, I am your guardian. I can help you. Shield you. Please. Don’t leave. ’