Deadly Obsession (18 page)

Genevieve couldn't face Grant right now. ‘You're just a typical fucking bloke, Grant. Take your pretty boy ways and fuck off. I don't want to see you. Not now, not ever ...' There was disgust in her voice.

‘So, a drunken bunk-up for old time's sake is out of the question, then ...' Grant had barely finished his egotistical request before Genevieve leapt unsteadily to her feet and attempted to throw the glass in her hand towards him. Unable to keep her balance, she fell to the floor behind the desk, the glass hurtling in completely the wrong direction, missing any chance of contact with Grant and instead smashing against a filing cabinet with a somewhat tragic shatter.

‘Woah, somebody's in even more of a state than I realised,' said Grant, a vague trace of concern entering his voice. He rushed around the desk and lifted Genevieve from the floor. She was out cold.

Best thing for her, he thought.

He sat her back at her desk and rested her head on the table. If things had gone to plan they'd have been fucking on it by now, but yet again Genevieve had turned him down. Her loss, he mused.

Grant grabbed her keys from the desk and went to leave the office. The least he could do was lock the shop and post the keys back through the letter box. Genevieve would be asleep for hours and she wouldn't want to wake up to find Eruption looted.

As he was leaving he felt the crunch of broken glass underneath his shoes. Maybe he should clean up. He knelt down to pick up the shards and carefully wrapped them in a scrap of fabric from the desk. As he went to dispose of them Grant noticed more broken glass and a picture frame lying at the bottom of the bin. His curiosity piqued, he picked the frame up, careful not to come into contact with the glass. The tell-tale image of Genevieve and Riley together stared back at him. He felt almost winded by what he saw. Suddenly it all fell into place. No wonder Genevieve had had no sexual interest in him for ages, she was evidently getting her kicks elsewhere. Being rebuffed was bad enough, but the fact that the cause was obviously his arch-enemy, Riley Hart ... well, that was something else. Grant could feel his hackles rising.

As he left the office he couldn't help but wonder if Amy knew about the apparent affair between Genevieve and Riley ... and whether he should be the one to tell her. That would definitely stir things up ...

A
s Amy felt
herself being rough-housed into Tommy's office at Dirty Cash by the pinching grip of Jemima, she couldn't help but feel that her attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation between Tommy and Adam had maybe not been such a good idea. In fact it had been a seriously bad one.

Tommy was more than a little surprised to see Amy and his wife standing before him. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

‘She was sniffing around Jimmy asking about jobs, believe it or not ... thought I'd bring her in for
an interview
,' sneered Jemima.

Tommy laughed, his lips looping themselves into a decidedly evil grin. ‘A job? Is that the best you could come up with? Even if I was the last employer on earth we know that isn't going to happen.' His tone was sneery and mocking.

A pause followed. 'I think we can cut the crap, can't we ...'

Amy let rip. ‘You and Adam are up to something bad. I know it. I could tell from your conversation. You know more about Riley's supposed death than you're letting on.'

Any traces of devilish mirth vanished in a flash from Tommy's face.

‘And can you make your lobster-clawed shrew of a wife get off my arm please! She's beginning to bruise me.' Amy attempted to wriggle free of Jemima's grip, which was becoming much more vice-like.

Tommy signalled to Jemima to let go. Reluctantly she did so. She'd been enjoying inflicting a harsher pain than was required. She was thinking about Winston. In her mind, Amy deserved to suffer.

‘Any more accusations like that, young lady, and you'll end up in deep water,' snapped Tommy.

‘Yes, I know, with concrete boots around my ankles. Heard it all before. I'm becoming used to how you all work now. You don't scare me Tommy ...' Amy was determined to show some bravado and stand firm, despite the nervous rhythmic beating of her heart banging within her. She couldn't fear Tommy, she couldn't. She wouldn't allow it. Men like him were fuelled by brutish power and bully tactics.

She continued. ‘I know you're hiding something. I could hear you and Adam talking about Riley. I heard a lot before this bitch of a viper took hold of me.'

‘There was nothing to hear ... so I find that very hard to believe.' Tommy didn't sound quite so confident. Something in Amy's mind made her think that maybe she had hit a little bit closer to home than Tommy desired. She was determined to try and roll with it. She was beyond fear. If Tommy was involved in Riley's disappearance ... in Laura's death ... then she was determined to try and call his bluff. She owed it to Laura and if Riley was still alive then she owed it to herself to find out the truth.

‘I heard you and Adam plotting. You don't like me being back and asking questions about Riley. My best friend is dead, my husband too apparently and I think you're up to your neck in it. You two had so much to gain from Riley's death. I wouldn't be surprised if you had blood on your hands. What are you going to do, Tommy, have me killed too ...?'

‘It was three people who died, you giddy bitch ...' Jemima couldn't help herself from speaking. How dare she forget about Winston?

Amy ignored her and stared at Tommy, trying to work out what was happening behind his eyes. Was that a crease of vulnerability she could see there? A reddening of his cheeks? She thought so. She continued to stare, determined not to break his gaze.

‘You know nothing, you silly cow. Riley was a criminal, a convict, a killer, a monster, a liar. He got what he deserved. Whoever killed him had their reasons. Your stupid friend and that useless sidekick just got in the way. If anyone's to blame for their deaths it's Riley. So take your stupid, unfounded accusations and lay them to rest because if you don't then somebody might have to lay you to rest with them ... for good.' Tommy flicked his fingers dismissively at Jemima, indicating that he was done with Amy.

Despite the fact that she was sure she could hear her own fear in her voice as she spoke, Amy was determined to have the last word. ‘The truth will out, Tommy. Somebody was responsible for Laura's death, and Riley's, if it was him who died ... if it's you, then there's not a person in the land who can stop me from making sure that you fucking burn in hell.'

Jemima grabbed Amy's arm and dragged her from Tommy's office. Amy could see a totally bemused Jimmy staring at her as she was frog-marched towards the casino exit. He attempted a smile, wondering just what type of interview answers Amy had given to be ejected out of the casino with such speed. He guessed she wouldn't be joining the workforce.

As they reached the door, Jemima swung Amy around to face her. Venom was plastered across her face. ‘Your late husband had a lot to answer for. People are dead because of him. Good, warm people put into an early cold grave. Riley deserved his own death. The others didn't ...' Amy was sure that a pool of tears had begun to form in the corners of Jemima's eyes. ‘Now get out ...'

Jemima swung her arm in fury, the palm of her hand contacting with a full-sounding crack across Amy's face. As she did so, she pushed Amy out into the street through the open door of the casino. Despite her insubstantial frame there was a sheer force behind both the slap and the push, causing Amy to fall to the kerb.

Holding her hand to her cheek, Amy stared up at Jemima. Tears had started to streak down Jemima's face.

‘What was that for?' asked Amy, her cheek becoming sorer.

‘That was ...' Jemima's voice faltered, her breathing random. ‘That was ... that was ... for calling me a viper.'

As Jemima ran off, her sobs audible, Amy couldn't help but feel that there was more to Jemima Hearn than just being Tommy's simpering wife. She hated Riley, and obviously Amy herself by association. Her brutal outburst had definitely just put her well and truly onto Amy's list of suspects.

T
ommy was worried
. He had been ever since Amy had been taken from his office. In his heart he knew that Amy was bluffing, but why did his head keep telling him that maybe she had heard more than she was ever supposed to. It was a dilemma that he had been worrying over all day.

Amy had become a hindrance of major proportions. Before she'd been no more than a mosquito to him, buzzing around with no sense of direction, but now, he wasn't so sure. She was becoming smart. More like a bird of prey with a target in mind, ready to strike. And he couldn't risk that target having anything to do with the body of Weston Smith buried beneath the casino. Not even track-proven hard men like Tommy and Adam messed with the London East End boys like Jarrett Smith. Not without brutal payback.

Today had not been a good day for Tommy. Adam's visit and then the face-off with Amy had left him more than unsettled. He needed to do something. It was time for action. But what? Tommy wished that Cazwell was still alive. He would have known what to do. Adam was his arch enemy, but Cazwell would have pulled together with him for the sake of family, for honour, and to keep Jarrett Smith away from his turf. Fuck, who was Tommy trying to kid? If Riley's dad had still been alive he wouldn't have let the situation become such a fuck-up in the first place. But Cazwell was gone ... safe in his grave. Tommy would take the fall-out with Adam if Jarrett Smith ever found out the truth. They'd be the ones choking on their own blood or feeling the force of a crowbar on their skulls.

No, Tommy had to act and he had to act now. If there was any chance that Amy did know any finger-pointing facts then she needed to be stopped. Tommy picked up his car keys and marched out of the casino, a man on a mission ...

D
olly Townsend hated
it when the sex she experienced with Adam Rich was interrupted. It was always good. Varied but good. She pleased him, she knew that. She was master of her trade and that, as ever, pleased her.

But interruptions were never welcome, especially when she had literally been a breath away from what had promised to be a rather nerve-fizzing orgasm. Adam gave her the kind of sex that she liked, the kind that she needed. Especially as it paid handsomely. And she gave it back to him in unadulterated layers of pleasure.

Thank Christ his wife was away from home most of the time – in London he said, staying with her sister – as Adam loved calling on Dolly whenever he had a chance. If he was angry she'd play slave to his master, submissive to his needs. Thinking of the extra cash she'd earn was always a soothing mental lotion for any momentary pain she suffered. If he was just back from a job he would often be more caring in his love-making, spending time cuddling and spooning, the warmth between their two bodies seemingly the antithesis of whatever brutal act he had doubtless been undertaking. And then there were the times when he simply wanted to fuck. Hard, deep, fast. They were all panels forming the patchwork of Dolly's professional life.

Today, Adam had been in the mood for the last of those options. She was to go to Adam's house, ready to fuck. Whatever plans she had for the evening were put on hold. When her number one client phoned, then she came running ... all the way to the bedroom and straight onto her back. She had been thinking non-stop about Adam since their last meeting. He was good to her, maybe he could be in more ways than he realised.

Adam had just been ploughing into Dolly from behind – his favourite position for deeper penetration – when the banging at the front door had started. At first they had both ignored it. The house was quiet, apart from the moans of ecstasy emanating from the bedroom, as Adam wanted to listen out for either Lily, who was out working, or Caitlyn returning home. Not that either was likely to. Caitlyn had been away for days and as far as he knew was still in London, even though any attempt to ring her had gone straight to answerphone. She normally phoned before returning home. As for his daughter, Lily, she'd said she wouldn't be back until tomorrow when she'd hurriedly left the house earlier that evening.

But as the banging on the door continued, it had put Adam off his stroke and Dolly could feel his erection wilt within her. Pulling out of her, Adam had grabbed a dressing gown and angrily marched off to answer the door, leaving a totally frustrated Dolly wondering if she should finish herself off. Assuming that Adam would be back as soon as he had dismissed the ill-timed caller, Dolly lay back on the bed and lit up a cigarette.

When she was stubbing it out some five minutes later and there was still no sign of Adam, she decided to try and see what was happening. If play-time was over then she needed to know about it. She'd still want her full fee though.

Slipping on a silk kimono, Dolly looked around the room. She longed to live in such luxury. Dolly dreamt of being surrounded by beautiful handmade rugs, ornaments that probably cost more than Dolly's entire flat and with chandeliers hanging from every ceiling. One day, she said to herself,
one day ...
in fact, maybe one day soon
.

Dolly could hear voices coming from downstairs. They were raised and angry. At first she thought it may have been Adam's lucky bitch of a wife coming home from yet another shopping trip, doubtless with another over the top mirrored statue – the house was becoming overrun with them – but as she strained to hear, she could tell that both voices were male. Moving to the door, she opened it as quietly as she could and sneaked out onto the landing. The voices were coming from a room off the main hallway at the bottom of the house's sweeping staircase.

She could hear Adam and the man he was talking to – Adam called him Tommy – quite clearly. It was apparent that both of them were worried about something, and that it was pretty major whatever it was. Seating herself at the top of the staircase, she lit another cigarette, listening to every word and soaking up the information like a sponge.

Eavesdropping had never been so interesting, or as potentially rewarding. As Dolly tip-toed back into the bedroom when the men brought their heated interaction to a close, she couldn't help but smile to herself. She realised that this was the moment she had been waiting for. The moment when maybe the luxuries she'd dreamt of so many times in the past could finally be within her expertly manicured reach.

Slipping off the kimono, she stubbed out the cigarette and lay back on the bed, awaiting Adam's return and looking forward to what she knew would be a rather jaw-droppingly wondrous orgasm.