After pausing for a long moment, she spun around, nostrils flaring as she stalked back towards me. My pulse sped up with every step she took. If I kissed her right now, she’d probably throw that punch she threatened me with earlier. I had to press my lips together when the thought made me grin.
Grace looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “This is funny to you?”
“No! Slim …” I reached for her.
She flinched. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me either. Just get me the hell out of this maze and back to the table.”
I winced at the recollection as I floated gently on my board. True to her word, Grace pretty much ignored me the rest of the night. When asked what happened to her phone, she simply said she dropped it, knowing that disclosing what really happened would only invite further questions.
Resolving to hit the shops this morning and buy her a new one, I lay down on my board and began the paddle back to shore.
“Later, Boyd!” I called out, offering a brief salute to the surfer closest to me in the water.
“Daniels.” The guy gave a short nod before returning his gaze back to the horizon. Jack Boyd was out every morning, frequenting the same surf spots I did. He seemed like a bit of a loner and I’m pretty sure I heard it mentioned he was going through a divorce. The guy seemed too young, but I guess relationship difficulties didn’t discriminate based on age.
After riding the waves to shore, I undid the leg rope and jogged up the soft sand with my board. Tugging my wetsuit down halfway, I rinsed quickly under the outdoor shower, shivering as I got rid of the excess sand. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I peeled off the bottom half of my wetsuit and headed back to the car.
By the time I got home, took a hot shower, and caught up on all the shopping I needed to do, it was midday when I arrived for work.
Having messaged Grace, I walked through to the outer office where my assistant, Tim, was talking on the phone with his back turned.
“I want to do bad things with his boy parts,” I heard him hiss into the line, obviously not realising he was no longer alone. I bit the insides of my cheeks to hold back the laugh. “Are you kidding me? I would suck him so hard my eyeballs would literally pop right out of my head.” Tim paused, listening as someone on the other end spoke, before replying, “It does not make me a vampire, you ho.” Relaxing back in his chair, Tim laughed and started spinning around lazily. “You’re just a jealous bitch, Mac. I bet you wish you were the one working for—” Spying me walking through, he froze before hurriedly turning back to his desk and clearing his throat. “Thank you. I’ll make sure he returns your call,” he said into the phone and hung up. The phone started ringing again immediately and Tim ignored it, his hands twitching nervously.
“Morning, Casey,” he said, and began brushing at an imaginary piece of lint on his pants.
“Tim.” I gave him a nod as I passed through his outer office and into mine.
“Back the truck up,” he commanded, suddenly on full alert as he eyed the bags in my hand. “You went shopping?”
I turned, arching a brow as I walked backwards into my office. “Is that a problem or should I have cleared it with you first?”
He muttered something I didn’t catch. I dumped the bags near one of the cabinets by my desk and sat down, noting the cup of piss-weak coffee sitting on a coaster by my laptop. Fuck it. This ridiculous feud Tim had going on with the local barista had to stop. I vowed to go down there myself and sort it out. Just not today. Today was Monday, and Mondays were right up there with boy bands—an unbearable phenomena that kept recurring no matter how fucking horrible they were.
Flipping open the screen, I fired up my laptop. I had a routine. My week would start with me unlocking the bottom drawer of my desk and pulling out the old, worn file. I would review it carefully like I always did. Then I would find nothing new and hide the file away again with a lump in my throat I could never swallow down. Frustration would grind my bones until it made me ache. And then I would begin my week, hurting just a little more than the week before.
Today was no different, but the possibility of getting answers via Morgan firmed my resolve. Just as I reached for the locked drawer, Tim barged in, pausing just long enough to strip all the clothes from my body with his eyes. That was Tim’s morning routine. I was left feeling naked as he marched into my office with an ominous pile of files. His other hand held a bunch of phone messages. He dumped the files on my desk and handed me the messages one by one as he recounted them.
“Richard. Penrith Police. He wants you to call first thing.”