Eye for an Eye (26 page)

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Authors: Bev Robitai

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #travel, #canada, #investment, #revenge, #toronto, #cheat, #new zealand, #fraudster, #conman, #liar, #farm girl, #defraud

BOOK: Eye for an Eye
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‘Nothing too
serious, but the last time I went out for a short trip on the lake
I had a bit of engine trouble - the damn thing just died on
me.’

‘Oh how
dreadful. What did you do?’

‘I had a go at
fixing it myself, but it was a major mechanical thing and I didn’t
have all the tools there to do it. Just had to sit and wait for a
tow back in.’ He spread his hands and shrugged. ‘No great drama,
but a waste of a day out.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘Now if
you’d been on board, the time wouldn’t have been wasted at
all.’

Robyn smiled to
herself, thinking that if she had been on board, she’d have made
sure to put the sugar in the fuel tank on a different occasion.

‘Poor Colwyn,
you must have been terribly bored all by yourself. Did you do any
fishing to pass the time?’

‘I tossed a bit
of bait over the side, yes, but my heart wasn’t in it. I prefer my
fish lightly grilled with a sprinkling of aromatic herbs, not
wriggling on the end of a line.’

‘Mm, grilled
fish, that sounds nice. I’m just a little bit peckish.’ Peckish?
She was starving, especially with the faint scent of barbecues
wafting past on the evening air reminding her that lunch had been a
long time ago.

Colwyn checked
his expensive gold watch.

‘Dinner should
be here in about fifteen minutes. I shall get you another glass of
wine to save you from fainting away.’

‘On an empty
stomach? I shall get completely tiddley!’ exclaimed Robyn archly.
‘I do hope you behave yourself!’

‘Oh I would
never take advantage of you, Robyn - my intentions are nothing but
honourable, I assure you.’

‘Yeah, sure,’
she muttered as he disappeared into the kitchen. ‘Very honourable,
to suck up to me till I hand over all my money - then I’d never see
you for dust.’

He returned
with a full glass and sprawled elegantly in the chair beside her,
sipping wine until the doorbell rang and he jumped up.

‘That will be
our dinner, I think.’

He crossed to
the door, where Robyn saw him wheel in a trolley delivered by the
swarthy man she’d seen at the gym. She turned away quickly before
she was seen, and tried to ignore the shudder that ran down her
spine. Something about that creepy guy raised the hairs on the back
of her neck.

After a few
minutes, Colwyn came out onto the balcony. ‘Dinner is served, my
lady. May I escort you to the dining room?’

‘Perhaps that
would be wise, to avoid an unseemly rush!’

He seated her
with extravagant care and unfolded a napkin for her lap before
taking his own seat. The table was set with the best china and
silverware, but Robyn had eyes only for the food, which she tucked
into with gusto. Colwyn topped up her wine glass every time she
took a sip, and her head was soon swimming dangerously. If she had
been asked later to describe the meal, she’d have been lost for
words. Only the impressions remained - creamy chicken, tender beef
in a tangy gravy, tiny minted potatoes, and finally a chocolate
dessert that left her groaning with pleasure, eyes closed,
savouring the last drop of rich sauce from her spoon.

‘I think that’s
the longest I’ve ever seen you speechless,’ remarked Colwyn with a
faint smile.

‘Sssh, don’t
spoil the moment.’

‘Can I get you
a coffee? Dessert wine? One tiny little after-dinner mint?’

‘No, thank you.
You couldn’t improve on perfection. That was wonderful and nothing
else will ever compare.’

At least there
was some benefit to hanging out with a conman. The perks were well
beyond her usual lifestyle. But the realisation that stolen money
had probably paid for her food left a sour taste in her mouth.

Later, as they
sipped at a rich ruby port out on the balcony, Colwyn seemed to be
probing for details about her childhood and teenage years. She
struggled to keep her thoughts clear, invented as much background
as she felt necessary, then fended him off by turning the
conversation to his life instead.

‘How is it that
you’re still single, Colwyn? I can’t imagine that there’s any
shortage of women eager to share your luxury lifestyle.’

He looked away,
showing a stern and slightly sad profile as he gazed out across the
lake. ‘Actually Robyn, I recently lost someone very dear to me, and
I’m not quite ready for another intimate relationship just
yet.’

‘Oh dear, how
very sad. Are you able to talk about it?’

He smiled
bravely. ‘I should try, I suppose. Acceptance is the first stage of
healing, they say.’ He lowered his eyes and began to talk towards
the floor. ‘She was a wonderful woman, full of life and vitality.
Everyone said we were made for each other, the perfect couple. Then
one day she found a lump… and three months later she was gone. It
meant the end of all our dreams together, everything we’d planned.’
His voice caught. ‘I still can’t believe it.’

Robyn found her
eyes filling with tears despite herself. His grief seemed so
real.

‘You’d think
that with all the progress in medicine today that the doctors here
would have been able to help, wouldn’t you?’ she said. ‘I mean,
North America has all the latest facilities for that kind of
thing.’

‘It was too
late by the time she discovered the lump - there was nothing they
could do.’

‘How long ago
was this?’

‘Just last
June. That’s why the emotion is still a bit raw.’ He brushed at his
eyes impatiently.

Robyn’s unshed
tears evaporated in seconds as she thought about his answer. She
knew only too well that last June, Colwyn had been in New Zealand,
posting out the letter that had sent her father to his death.

At that point,
she was close to killing him with her bare hands.

‘Life can be so
unfair, can’t it,’ she choked.

She got up
abruptly and walked to the bathroom, needing to put some space
between herself and Colwyn before she did something hasty.

She fumbled the
door shut and locked it, aware that her hands were trembling with
suppressed rage.

‘If this
carries on I’m going to need a bloody anger management course,’ she
muttered to herself. ‘Christ! What a lying bastard - and I almost
believed him.’

She forced
herself to cool down, splashing cold water on her face and hands
until she felt calmer. It was time to get back into her character
and play out the rest of the scene.

Colwyn was
still standing on the balcony, a brooding silhouette against the
fading sunset. Good pose, thought Robyn cynically as she joined
him. She put her hand on his arm.

‘Forgive me? I
had no idea. You must have thought me an utter pest.’

He turned and
smiled into her eyes.

‘Not in the
least, I assure you. I only hope that one day I will be able to
offer love again as freely as you do.’

‘Oh you will,
Colwyn, you’re full of it,’ she assured him. She stopped herself
then, realising that alcohol was loosening her tongue. They stared
out over the city for a few quiet moments. ‘You must have had much
more ambition than I ever had, to achieve all this.’ She waved her
hand at the luxurious surroundings and the twinkling lights below.
‘Tell me how you climbed the ladder to this kind of success.’

‘Oh, a lot of
it’s luck, really,’ he said modestly. ‘Knowing the right people,
being in the right place at the right time, that kind of
thing.’

‘No, there’s
more to it than that, otherwise everybody would be doing it. You’ve
got something extra, haven’t you?’

She gazed into
his eyes, hoping her flattery would get him to open up. It would
really help if her head would stop spinning.

‘Well I suppose
you could say I’m a people person - I know how to make people feel
good about investing their money, how they need to feel secure and
to trust that I’ve got their best interests at heart.’

‘But do things
ever go wrong? Like, do investments that you’ve suggested fail and
the people lose their money?’

She tried to
keep her tone casual, as if the inquiry meant nothing and was
simply polite conversation.

‘Oh of course,
nobody is right all the time - it’s a percentages game in the end.
If you’re right more often than the next guy, you get a reputation
for being better, that’s all.’

‘So all
investments are something of a risk, is that what you’re
saying?’

‘All the ones
that offer high returns are. If you want your money to be
absolutely safe, you put it in the bank and accept whatever tiny
interest rate they’re prepared to pay you. If you want to make
bigger gains, you have to be prepared to take a gamble because the
money isn’t as secure as it would be in a bank.’

She took a
large swallow of port, feeling that she was stepping out onto a
tightrope.

‘Have any of
your clients ever lost their money, through your actions?’

He looked at
her steadily.

‘Sadly, yes -
it does happen occasionally, despite the best of intentions and the
most thorough research. Sometimes outside factors affect parts of
the economy in sudden and unpredictable ways. If there’s a dramatic
downturn in the one particular sector where you’ve put all your
funds, and you can’t get them out in time, you can lose the whole
lot very rapidly.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I always try to advise
my clients about that, but some are so optimistic, or so desperate,
that they don’t believe it can happen to them.’

He reached
across the table and took her hands. She blinked, trying to assess
his expression, but his eyes were unreadable.

‘I need you to
believe in me, Robyn. Would you trust me?’

‘Are we talking
money, or something else?’ She struggled to avoid slurring her
words.

‘It’s all the
same. Either you trust me or you don’t - whether it’s to handle
your money or,’ he paused, and his voice hardened. ‘To tell me who
you really are.’

Her eyes shot
wide open. ‘Wow, that’s a strange question. What’s making you ask
that?’

‘I need an
answer, Robyn. Who are you and what are you doing here? The way
you’ve been asking so many questions, I’m wondering if you just
might be a journalist. Is there anything you’d care to tell
me?’

Her brain was
whirling horribly. What did she say now? If he knew her real
identity, he might guess she was behind all the recent nasty
accidents in his life. Who knew what retribution he might exact?
Being a journalist would actually be better cover than the
truth.

‘A journalist?’
She tried for a casual laugh. ‘I can neither confirm nor deny that,
Colwyn. And I certainly wouldn’t reveal my sources.’

She drained the
rest of her port in one go. ‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I
must just get a glass of water, OK?’

Colwyn watched
her walk slightly unsteadily towards the kitchen.

He frowned as
he recalled what Harry had told him that afternoon.

Harry’s shirt
had had large damp patches under the arms when he’d returned to
Colwyn’s apartment.

‘Well? What
have you got for me?’

Harry shifted
from foot to foot. ‘That girl…’

‘Yes? Come
on!’

‘Didn’t you say
her name was Robyn Heverill? Only, she had some airline tickets in
her stuff and they was under a different name.’

‘Excellent! I
knew she was playing some kind of game. So what’s the little
bitch’s real name and where is she from?’

‘The ticket
said “Robyn Taylor”, and it was issued in some place called New
Zealand. Is that even a country?’

Anger flickered
across Colwyn’s face. ‘Never mind that. What else did you
find?’

She has a
T-shirt with your picture on it.’ Harry’s fat face creased in a
smile. ‘That’s kinda cute, isn’t it?’

Colwyn frowned.
‘What’s the picture of, exactly? She’s never had the opportunity to
take a photo of me. Where did she get it?’

‘It was a real
nice shot of you by the boat. Shows the Angel Lady off pretty
good.’

‘Oh really? OK,
what else?’

‘She’s got a
job, I think. There was payslips from Prince and Bond, that swanky
photography studio over by the Parkway. I’ll go check it out later
if you want.’

‘Photography?
Interesting. Yes, all right. Did you find out who else lives at the
apartment?’

Harry looked
worried. ‘Yeah, I think so.’ He twisted a ring on his pudgy finger.
‘Ah, I think it might be the guy that was here last night.’

‘Which guy?’
Colwyn’s face darkened.

‘The phone guy.
Maybe. There was some disguise-type stuff in a case. Some wigs and
some glasses - one pair looked like the ones he was wearing.’

‘Christ! Can’t
you be sure? This is vitally important! If those two are working
together then I may be in serious trouble. Get over there and make
sure for God’s sake. If it is the same guy, take him out of
circulation for a while until I decide what to do. We may need to
figure out a way we can get rid of both them that will look like an
accident. For God’s sake move fast on this, Harry.’

‘I’m already
gone, Mr. Symons.’

Colwyn had
smiled coldly. When it was a matter of brawn instead of brains,
Harry could be almost reliable.

Now, an hour
after sunset, all the colour had faded from the lake. Lights
twinkled below. Cars drew red and white lines through the night
streets. Colwyn gazed at the night sky and planned his next
move.

Robyn came back
to the balcony with her glass of water. Colwyn smiled at her
warmly.

‘Robyn, don’t
mind my little outburst just then – I’m a bit shy of reporters,
that’s all. I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt with you and I’m
really sorry. Tell you what, let’s go up to the roof where there’s
a rather nice garden and recreation area. I’ll show you an even
better view than this one.’

‘Out in the
open? In the middle of the city? How super! Let’s go!’

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