Sweet Seduction Shield(17)

"OK," he said, too easily. "We can work up to that." I didn't think so, but I'd let him believe it for now. "But in order for us to go forward, you will need to make a statement about yesterday afternoon."

"Yesterday afternoon?" I asked, wondering just how much he already knew about the chase.

He crossed his arms over his chest, making his jacket stretch across his thick biceps.

"One of McLaren's men was spotted chasing you down Ponsonby Road. By the time we got there, you'd fled."

Oh.

"And the man?" I asked.

"No trace."

He watched me, waiting for me to offer up an explanation he wasn't going to get. At least I didn't need to rehash the pursuit.

"Look," Pierce said, leaning forward in his seat again. "I can protect you. Both of you. But you've got to give me something to go on here. Tell me at least, why does McLaren still have the hots for you?"

I frowned at his choice of words. My eyes flicking over Daisy to see if she picked up Pierce's terminology. She seemed oblivious, but that could all be a ruse. Kids her age are notoriously good at flying under the radar, but picking up on every nuance and reaction with ease.

I turned back to Pierce and offered the only solid explanation I could. I still needed him, for protection for Daisy. I had to make it seem worth his while.

"It's like you said yesterday in my office. I witnessed something he would rather not have the courts made aware of."

"And that's it?" he asked, disbelievingly I think.

"That's enough, isn't it?" I bluffed.

Pierce stared at me for a long moment and then ran a hand over his goatee beard in contemplation.

"OK," he said finally. "The problem is he's still got one 'worker bee' out there following his instructions, given through his attorney we believe. We can't cut the lawyer off, but with some time we will apprehend the 'helper'."

I wondered if the terms he was using were chosen because Daisy was here, or whether Pierce spoke in code like this all the time. Clearly 'worker bee' and 'helper' was meant to describe the tattooed freak/goon. If it wasn't such a vile and dangerous situation, I'd have smiled.

The good news was though, that the Police believed only one of McLaren's men was still at large.

"Are you sure it's just the one guy?" I asked, needing clarification. Surely catching one man was easier than catching a platoon of them. And, with only one man after us on McLaren's orders, then surely we could hide until he was caught.

Then disappear.

"We're sure," Pierce replied firmly. "He slipped the net when the taskforce went in, because he was overseas on holiday at the time."

Goons take holidays. Go figure.

I let a long breath of air out.

"OK, so what now?" I asked when I was done deflating.

"I need you to make a statement about yesterday."

"I'm not going to the Police Station."

"You don't have to," he replied instantly, shaking his head to back up the statement. "We can do it remotely."

I nodded slowly. I could sign a statement about the guy being in our flat and then chasing us. That wouldn't give too much, if anything, away. It was obvious McLaren wanted us, or more to the point me, and the reason I'd given - witnessing Rick's death - was not news to the cops. And it fit into the scenario nicely.

If I could keep their attention on just that, then they wouldn't find out about the rest of it.

"And until we can secure this loose thread," Pierce was saying, "we can place you and Daisy in a safe house."

"What's a safe house?" Daisy piped up, letting us know Pierce's carefully chosen euphemisms hadn't quite been careful enough.

He didn't even bat an eyelash, just launched into a suitable description for a five year old mind.

"It's a special place people holiday in when they can't go back home right away."

I had hoped Daisy would focus on the word holiday, just as I'm sure Pierce had hoped too.

"Why can't we go home?" Daisy asked, eyes flicking between me and Pierce. "Is it because of that man?"

My heart shattered, cleaved right in two. She'd been so resilient, I'd begun to think everything that had happened had slid right off my daughter's back. But of course she remembered it all. Right down to standing on our doorstep and hearing the crashing going on inside. Right down to my frozen terror at the realisation we had an intruder in our home and who had probably sent him.

"Daisy," Pierce said softly, leaning forward over the table top to give her his full attention. "Do you know what a detective is?"

"He's a Policeman who doesn't wear uniforms," she announced with pride at her knowledge.

"That's true," Pierce said, picking at his jacket purposefully. "Do you also know what they do?"