Almost as though she read my mind, Sandra whipped the file away, sliding it back into the filing cabinet before she locked it and pocketed the key.
“Rest assured, it’s perfectly safe with me, and I will personally make sure you get an advanced copy. It’s such rum luck about your house.”
“Oh this is just wonderful. Thank you so much, Sandra. Yes, all the business with the house is rather inconvenient.” If I hadn’t already been prepared for her utter lack of empathy for my apparent situation, she might have gotten to me. But I’d known what a bitch she was when I walked in here.
I’d suspected for a while that she knew exactly what Pierce was like, but she chose not to do anything, not to ask any questions, because he was the cash cow and she’d have been a fool to kill that with some inconvenient truths.
I smoothed a hand over my skirt. “Well, I’d best be heading off.”
Sandra had already gone back to flicking over the manuscript she’d been pouring over when I came in, and she glanced at me through her glasses.
“So glad you could stop by Elizabeth. You’re welcome to ask Violet if she has any filing to keep you busy on the way out. I’m sure we could supply some kind of reference for you after a month or two of doing that, seeing as you’re Pierce’s step-daughter. Anything for darling Pierce.”
I gritted my teeth and weaponised my politeness, using the very best manners my mother ever taught me. “I couldn’t possibly thank you enough, Sandra. You’ve always been so kind.”
The words I used may have said exactly the opposite, but I was confident I’d left Sandra with the distinct impression from the tone of my voice and the coldness of my stare that if she turned up dead tomorrow, I would happily spit on her grave.
Her eyes narrowed on me on the way out and I trailed down the stairs, straight out of the front door, without so much as glance in Violet’s direction.
“I hope you heard all that Maxim. It sounds like we need to move fast.”
Elizabeth
When I pushed the button to unlock the door and tumbled out of the narrow entrance door back into the street, the window seat in the bright yellow cafe across from Sandra’s office was conspicuously empty.
Trying not to frown, I clattered my way over to the cafe and peered in through the glass, hoping to see that he was somewhere in the back, ordering another coffee, or his things were there but he was using the loo at the back.
His laptop was gone. Of course it would be. He wasn’t stupid enough to leave that lying around. But there was no sign of the oversized coffee cup he’d settled in with, and the place he’d been sitting looked like it had been vacant for a while.
The bell at the top of the door chimed when I pushed it open and I gritted my teeth, swallowing hard, because the happy little jingle was so bloody unwelcome. Feeling shaken, I went up to the counter.
“The guy who was sitting in the window, when did he leave?”
All I got was a blank stare. “I’m sorry luv, I don’t keep track of every single customer.”
I looked over my shoulder, eyebrows raising. “There’s no one else in here.”
The guy matched my eyebrow raise, shifting his stance, weight on one leg and he folded surprisingly muscular arms – for a barista – across his chest. My eyes darted to the name tag pinned to his t-shirt. Piotr. “I didn’t see anyone.”
I stifled a growl. “Of course you didn’t.”
Maxim had bloody well left me here without a word. And now he was probably pissing himself laughing at me falling for his nonsense. Either that, or he had a fellow countryman who was willing to keep his cover for him at all costs.
I shook my head, avoiding the urge to flip him off as I exited, letting the door swing back hard behind me. In the street, I tugged the cable out of the battery and transmitter set, irritated by the scratchy stickiness of the squares of tape glueing the damn wire to my skin.
What was I expecting? All he wanted was the information he needed, and I’d just given him that. He didn’t need me any longer. This was it. Daydream over.
My chest was tight and I swallowed hard, determined not to let myself start crying in the middle of the street. What was I going to do now?
I was on the point of despair, when I looked up, and there he was, standing in the street with his phone against his ear and a scowl on his face.
“Come on. We don’t have any time if we’re going to get the damn thing off that bitch.”