And now he was back.
‘Heard you were doing well for yourself,’ he had said, inviting himself into her house and scanning it with the shrewd eyes of a born petty thief. ‘Heard you found yourself a replacement for Shaunie.’
She had flinched every time he had reached out to touch one of her possessions but past experience had taught her that any sign of weakness would be a mistake with Brian Shepherd. She knew all about his temper.
There had been no need to ask him how he had found out about Alessandro. He had volunteered the information with relish: a friend of a friend of a friend had spotted them together on their little love-bird holiday in Italy. At the airport, of all places. Wasn’t it a small world?
‘Angie—Angie Carson. Remember her? Fat cow. Took a picture of the both of you. On her phone. Bet you never spotted her! Probably wouldn’t have recognised her cos it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Anyone would think you were ashamed of all your old mates...’
He didn’t remove his hoodie the entire time he was at the house, prowling through from room to room, touching and picking things up and turning them round in his hands, as though trying to figure out what they were worth.
Chase remained largely silent until, eventually, when she could stand it no longer, she asked him what he wanted, because of course he would want something.
Money. He was in a bit of a tight spot. Just enough to tide him over, and he knew she could lay her hands on some, because they’d driven off in a flash car and the luggage...
He gave a low, long whistle and eyed her up and down in a way that made her stomach lurch. Nice luggage. Expensive. Angie had been impressed. Snapped a few pics of that on her phone and all.
So, just a bit of money, spare change for a bloke who could zoom off in a chauffeur-driven limo with all that nice luggage in the boot. Angie had gone off with her mates but he was betting that, wherever that flash car had driven to, it wasn’t going to be a one-star dump with dodgy air-conditioning.
So, what did she say? Did she think that she could spare an old friend a bit of loose change? Maybe, he said, he could persuade her. He knew where she worked...had done a little digging after those photos fat Angie had shown him...
Remember that club, the one that got busted by the coppers....? Course, she’d been underage at the time and she hadn’t actually been doing drugs or anything—not like him and Shaunie and the rest of the gang. But those posh people at the law firm, they’d be really keen to know that she used to mix with a crowd who all had police records, wouldn’t they? Might even get to thinking that she had a police record! Wouldn’t that be funny? And, being honest, just the fact that she and he used to be mates would get them wondering, wouldn’t it?
He had chuckled. ‘You know what they say about the smelly stuff sticking...’
Her mobile rang now just as she was about to enter the office. Alessandro. She switched it off. There was no way that she could talk to him. Not just yet. But talk to him she would have to, because Brian Shepherd wasn’t going to go away until he got his wretched money which, as it turned out, was hardly what she would have called ‘loose change’. It was certainly more than she had set aside, which was precious little after her mortgage repayments had been made and the bills paid.
Her life seemed to be unravelling at speed and she had to force herself not to succumb to the meltdown she knew was hovering just around the corner. She had weathered a lot of things and she would weather this as well. It would just take a little working out.
By the time she pushed through the doors to their offices, she had glumly decided what needed to be done.
Her first port of call was her boss’s office.
Tony Grey was a short, round man in his fifties who would have been a dead ringer for Father Christmas were it not for the fact that he was almost entirely bald and his dark-grey eyes were way too astute for someone who spent all his time laughing and chuckling. In actual fact, Chase had never seen her boss laugh out loud, but he had always been fair and supportive. She would miss that.
She would have to hand in her notice. She had come to that conclusion as she had left her house. Brian Shepherd wouldn’t just do what he threatened; he would go further if she didn’t do as he asked. Hadn’t he been banged up for nearly killing someone in a bar brawl when he was fourteen? What if he took it into his head to release his explosive temper on her if she didn’t play ball? If he could nearly kill someone at the age of fourteen because they’d accidentally knocked into him without saying sorry, then he could certainly kill her if he wanted money from her and she refused to pay. She loathed the thought of having to yield in a situation like this but pride was no match for sheer common sense.