Chapter 32
He hadn’t meant to creep up and frighten her like that, but seeing the front door wide open was unusual enough, given the recent events, to send John’s senses straight to red alert. Despite his intentions to stay out of sight, these were thrown to one side without a second thought.
‘You okay?’ he glanced around the kitchen, his hand twitched at his hand gun lodged in his shoulder holster.
‘Yes. Everything’s fine,’ she said, her eyes shifted to his hand.
‘Sure?’
‘Positive.’
John relaxed and let his jacket fall from his grasp. Yet, years of experience and habit didn’t stop him carrying out a quick check of the house before closing the front door. As he did so, he signalled across the road to Martin that everything was okay and then returned to the kitchen. Tina was crouched down on the floor with a dustpan and brush, sweeping up broken glass. He clocked the missing pane in the back door.
‘You’ve had a visitor?’
‘Mmm. They let themselves in.’
Tina stood up and, pressing the pedal on the bin with her foot, slid the glass off the dustpan. The lid closed with a clap that reverberated around the kitchen.
‘Is anything missing?’
‘Not as far as I can tell.’
John watched her replace the dustpan and brush in the under-sink cupboard. She turned and faced him. The strain of today was evident. Her eyes looked heavy and her whole body language looked weary and defeated. He wanted to go to her, to hold her in his arms and tell her he was sorry. He wanted her to say it was okay and she understood.
‘Where’s Dimitri?’ he asked, suddenly realising the little lad wasn’t in the house.
‘At my parents,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here anyway? I thought I made it clear that I wanted some time alone.’
‘All the time Pavel is still roaming around, not to mention Sasha and the Russians, I still need to keep you safe.’
‘Well, you’ve done your duty. I’m all safe and there’s no burglar.’
‘You need to get the back door secured for the night. I don’t suppose you’ve got any hardboard and hand tools?’
‘No, but I’m sure Mr Cooper has in his shed. I’ll go and look.’
‘No, I’ll go and look, you wait here.’
‘Ever the hero.’
John wasn’t sure how to take that last comment, but whether she was being sarcastic or not, she was letting him help her and that had to be a good sign, right? He rummaged around in Mr Cooper’s shed, finally locating an old tin toolbox in the corner.
He returned with the necessary tools and a piece of hardboard. ‘I’ll tack it in place for now, from the inside and outside, to keep the door secure for the night. I can put a pane of glass in it for you tomorrow.’
She didn’t contradict him and John carried out the impromptu DIY tasks in silence as Tina made them both a coffee.
It didn’t take John too long and when he was confident the hardboard was secure, he drank the coffee she had made.
‘So, are you the male version of the honey-trap? That’s what they call it, isn’t it?’ said Tina as he sipped his coffee. ‘You were tasked with getting into bed with me, in the hope I’d reveal secrets and information across the pillow.’
‘No,’ said John exasperation creeping in. It seemed to be the day for dealing with stressful women. ‘It wasn’t that at all.’
‘What the hell was it, then?’ Her eyes blazed with anger and hurt, but there was hope there too. John had seen it before in victims he had interviewed. They were in a nightmare that they didn’t want to be in and there was a slither of hope that he could pull them out of it, wake them from their terror.
He sat down at the table, his voice controlled. Soft. Reassuring. Honest. ‘I was never meant to get involved with you. I promise. In fact, my boss has threatened to take me off the case because he thought I was too involved and my feelings for you were impairing my judgement.’
‘Feelings?’ The hope burned a fraction brighter.
‘Yes. I knew I was getting more involved with you than I ever intended but I also knew that I couldn’t stop it. Believe me, Tina, I’ve struggled and wrestled with this over and over again.’ He waited while she took in his words.
‘There’s another but, I can tell.’
God, she was perceptive. ‘Bringing Neil’s killer to justice comes before anything else. I need to do this.’
A small tear wound its way from the corner of her eye. ‘Sasha is not a killer.’
‘I believe that. In fact, I know that, but he is our only lead to Pavel and to the money. Ultimately, it’s the way to your safety.’