course I’ll call you later, Fin,’ he smiled again. ‘Just put my foolishness down to disappointment at not being able to spend the evening with you after all.’
And his parents, she could have added, but didn’t … God, he made it sound as if they would be forgoing a romantic evening together, when in reality it would be nothing of the sort, not under the watchful eyes of his parents! She liked the Soameses very much, found his father sweet, if a little henpecked, his mother always warm and friendly. But, as Derek was their only child, and at twenty-seven he was still a bachelor, they tended to view all his girlfriends with an eye to their being his future wife. And, although Fin knew by the warm welcome she always received from them that they approved of her, it was still a little unnerving to be constantly under inspection when in their company. Or, at least, to feel as if she was.
She gently squeezed Derek’s hand before releasing it. ‘I shouldn’t be too late back tonight, if you do want to call me …?’
He nodded, obviously reassured by her smile. ‘And if you do manage to finish early enough we could still go out for a quiet drink together.’
‘Yes,’ Fin agreed vaguely, not wishing to get into another argument, but already sure in her own mind that the meeting tonight would go on for some time. But there was no point in upsetting Derek again now by telling him that, and she did have an appointment to get to … ‘Talk to you later,’ she told him distractedly as she bent to kiss him lightly on the cheek.
Fido, the Siamese, enjoyed his walk that afternoon, as usual. His name wasn’t really Fido, it was something exotically unpronounceable, which his stockbroker owner shortened affectionately to Filly. But Fin called him Fido for the simple pleasure of watching the expression on people’s faces when she was out walking him on the extended lead she kept in the van for him, and she brought him back to her by calling out ‘Fido’, and this arrogant-looking Siamese cat appeared from whatever spot he had been exploring at the time-usually the dustbins!
Richard, the cat’s owner, assured her that his little darling could only eat fresh fish lightly steamed, but Fin knew from experience that the ‘little darling’ would sink his delicate little white teeth into anything, given the chance—including her ankles if he was feeling particularly disdainful of the world. Which he very often was!
Maybe in future she should start to call him Jake …!
She had deliberately not thought of how objectionable his behaviour had been during her second visit this morning, but he really was the most arrogant, insufferable, totally obnoxious individual she had ever had the misfortune—–
Her indignant thoughts were brought to an abrupt end by a loud cry that sounded like a baby in distress! And when she turned around it was to find that, during her preoccupation with Jake Danvers, Fido had wrapped his lead twice around a lamp-post and was now protesting loudly at the confinement to his movements. Another few seconds and Fin would probably have found herself flat on her backside on the pavement when the lead tightened at her end!
‘Thanks for the warning,’ she ruefully told Fido as she untangled him from the lamp-post, receiving an indignant nip or two from pointed white teeth for her trouble. ‘I probably deserved it,’ she crooned softly as she stroked the cat’s silky fur, his chocolate and milky-coffee-coloured markings of championship standard. ‘My mind is firmly back on the job in hand,’ Fin assured him as she placed his delicate paws back on the pavement.
Obviously thinking of Jake Danvers was dangerous to her health as well as her peace of mind!
But at the same time she acknowledged that she also knew she had omitted a few of his attributes in her earlier description of him: Jake Danvers was also the most ruggedly attractive man she had ever seen.
But he could also be something much, much more dangerous …
‘Oh, Fin, thank God I managed to catch you before you went home!’ Gail breathed her obvious relief.
Fin frowned at this second telephone call from the other woman in twenty-four hours. Admittedly she hadn’t spoken to Gail personally the last time, but, nevertheless, Gail’s message had been clear enough.
She had only called in at the office herself on her way home to close up for the evening, this call coming through before she’d had chance to switch on the answer-machine.
‘Only just,’ she replied derisively, looking down ruefully at the key in her hand she had ready for her departure. ‘I got your message earlier, Gail.’ A little late, but she had got it! ‘Everything seems in order at the cottage.’ She crossed her fingers at this blatant mistruth; the last thing it had seemed at Rose Cottage today was ordered. ‘So—–’
‘That’s just it,’ the other woman cut in agitatedly. ‘It isn’t in order at all. Fin, I’m worried about Jake,’ she added anxiously.
Oh, dear, it was going to be another one of those calls, Fin realised with dismay, where she had to play a guessing game, trying to discover what was actually being said to her.
She sat down wearily in her chair. It had been a long and trying day, and she was just too tired now to play any more games. And most of the reason it had been such a trying day had been because of Gail’s ‘uncle’!
‘In what way?’ she prompted evenly; from the little she had seen of Jake Danvers, he wouldn’t welcome anyone’s feeling ‘worried’ about him!
‘He—he’s being difficult!’ Gail seemed somewhat reluctant to put the actual problem into words now that it came down to it.
Fin sighed. ‘He’s your friend, Gail; I’m sure you know better than most what he can be like.’
And it really was none of her business if Gail was having problems with him. Sorting out personal relationships, family or otherwise, was not one of the services her agency offered; there were professional agencies for things like that. It wasn’t that she wasn’t sympathetic to Gail’s obvious concern, it was just—well, it was Jake Danvers!
‘So do you, by the sound of it,’ Gail realised with rueful humour. ‘A little of Jake goes a long way, hm?’ she acknowledged drily.
‘Yes,’ Fin agreed tersely, glancing impatiently at her wrist-watch; time was pressing on, and she had her tea to eat before getting ready to go out to the committee meeting. She also had something else to do before she did any of those things, and needed to get home.
The other woman drew in a ragged breath. ‘Look, the thing is, Fin—I don’t know what Jake has told you about himself—–’
‘Not much,’ she told her pointedly.
‘No. Well.’ Gail sighed. ‘He’s a pretty private sort of person. Is quite fanatical about it, actually, but … Look, I’ve tried several times to reach him by telephone this afternoon,’ this last bit came out in a rush, ‘just to make sure he’s settled in OK. But each time I called the line was dead. I contacted the operator after the last time, a few minutes ago actually, and she said the telephone has been unplugged from the connection!’ Gail revealed incredulously.
It seemed a rather stupid thing to do when the cottage was as remote as it was. But, as Gail said, Jake Danvers was a very private person, and she was sure he had a very good reason for disconnecting the telephone … ‘Gail,’ she said slowly, ‘exactly what is it you’re worried about?’
‘Oh,
