had to be today, Hannah estimated, for if the Frenchwoman had gone to such pains to discover Miguel’s plans, she’d be aware he was due to return home tonight.
Anticipating the time and place made her edgy, and by midday she was fast becoming a nervous wreck. It made sense that Camille would choose a time when Hannah was alone, which meant the hour Elaine went on lunch break, or immediately afterwards when Hannah visited the café.
Knowing Rodney Spears remained unobtrusively on duty provided reassurance.
Hannah checked her watch, and indicated Elaine should go to lunch, during which the phone rang three times, three clients called in to collect orders, two people opted to browse, and Camille was a no-show.
The nervous tension mounted with every passing minute as she ordered a Caesar salad and carrot juice at the café counter, paid, then selected one of three empty tables and took a seat.
The salad was delectable, she knew, because she frequently ordered the dish. However, today she could have been eating chalk, and her appetite was nonexistent.
Hannah sat there for more than half an hour, then she ordered bottled water and slowly sipped it over the next fifteen minutes. Camille was nowhere to be seen.
At ten to two, Hannah walked out onto the street, visited a nearby newsagent and selected a card to send to Cindy, then she retraced her steps to the boutique.
Elaine left at four, and an hour later Hannah checked the locks, set the alarm, closed up and walked to the car park.
She slid into the Porsche and closed the door, inserted the key into the ignition, then gasped in shocked surprise as the door opened from the outside.
Camille leant forward and dropped a large envelope onto her lap. ‘I thought you should have these.’ She stood back and prepared to close the door. ‘By the way, Perth was fun, darling.’
Where had she come from? Hannah questioned silently. Then she heard the sound of an engine, and she turned to see Camille behind the wheel of a car as it moved quickly towards the exit.
Seconds later Rodney Spears appeared out of nowhere. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’
He didn’t appear convinced. ‘I’ll report in to Mr Santanas.’
Hannah tried for a smile, and almost made it.
Rodney Spears had already hit the rapid dial key and was talking into the phone. ‘The perpetrator dropped off a package. One minute contact. Yes, your wife is fine. I’ll follow her home.’ He cut the connection. ‘Are you okay to go now, ma’am?’
She was about as okay as she would ever be. ‘Sure.’ Seconds later she cleared the exit and joined the line of cars crawling along Toorak Road.
Perth? Why had Camille mentioned Perth?
It took several minutes to reach the turn-off, and she moved freely through various residential streets before entering her own.
Miguel’s Jaguar was parked outside the front door, and she drew the Porsche to a halt behind it.
No sooner had she entered the foyer than he was there, tall and brooding, his eyes compellingly dark as he raked her petite frame.
His gaze shifted to the large envelope in her hand, and he took it from her, then he cupped her chin and kissed her, hard.
‘Let’s take this into the study.’ Miguel caught hold of her hand and led the way. ‘I think we could both do with a drink.’
And then some, Hannah echoed silently as she entered the large book-lined room, watching as he opened a bottle of chilled white wine and filled two goblets with the golden liquid.
She accepted one and took a long sip of the contents as he leaned one hip against the desk.
Hannah indicated the envelope. ‘Aren’t you going to open that?’
‘In a minute. First, there’s something you need to know.’
She held his gaze, then said slowly, ‘I don’t think I want to hear this.’
‘Camille apparently discovered I would be in Perth, and she not only caught an earlier flight, she also booked into the same hotel.’
He caught the fleeting stricken look before she successfully controlled it, and he felt moved to violence at the lengths Camille was prepared to go to wreak destruction.
‘Don’t tell me,’ Hannah said bitterly. ‘Not only does that envelope contain doctored photographs we’ve already seen, but shots taken of the hotel with the date function exposed.’ Her gaze lanced his. ‘What else? You leaving your hotel room? Camille posing in the hallway with the room number showing, should I want to check it out?’
‘Worse. Camille lying almost naked in an unmade bed. The fact it isn’t my bed is immaterial, as most of the rooms are identical.’
She stood up and carefully placed the goblet down onto the desk. Calm, a tiny voice soothed. Stay calm. Just go look at the prints. Examine them carefully. And don’t say a word until you’re done.
With slow deliberation she slit the edge of the envelope and extracted the prints. One by one she discarded them onto the desk until she came to the final six.
As she anticipated, there was a photo taken of the hotel exterior, another of the reception area with a clear view of Camille checking in. The hallway, displaying a room number on the door. Miguel emerging from the same room. And the final two showing Camille sprawled in differing poses among rumpled sheets looking dreamily sated and incredibly seductive.
Hannah’s first inclination was to rip them in half and throw them in the waste bin. It sickened her to look at them, and she felt positively ill at the mental image of Miguel pleasuring another woman. Even if it hadn’t happened, just the thought was enough to kill her.
‘Look at the date.’
Miguel’s voice penetrated the dark void into which she’d mentally retreated, and she shook her head.
‘Por Dios.’ The husky imprecation sounded like silk being razed by razor-sharp steel. ‘Look.’
It was today’s date. Today? But—
‘I was here last night,’ Miguel relayed inexorably. ‘With you.’
Irrefutable proof. ‘Just as well,’ Hannah ventured with a shaky smile. ‘Otherwise I’d have killed you, or worse.’
He appeared vaguely amused. ‘Then it’s fortunate I have an alibi for Monday evening.’
‘I hope it’s watertight.’
‘It is. Alejandro will confirm.’ His voice became hard, his expression inflexible. ‘Camille will be served with an interim injunction. If she chooses to disregard it, she’ll be charged, independently of existing harassment charges.’ He paused fractionally. ‘Then there’s scientific proof regarding tampering of photographic prints.’ His gaze speared hers. ‘If she’s wise, she’ll take the first flight out of here.’
