Worlds Apart (11 page)

He grinned. “Throw them to great whites.”

He leapt at her and Roo squealed with laughter and ran. She raced all over the garden, down paths, past the tree house, through the vegetable patch and back to the orchard, and as she did she snatched bits of the brownie out of the bag and dropped them. Roo spun around a tree expecting to see Niall behind her, and he came at her from another direction. Roo squeaked and jerked the bag out of reach.

“Show me what’s in there,” Niall said.

Roo swallowed the words “make me” and shoved her hands behind her back. “I’m very hurt you don’t trust me.”

Niall held out his hand.

Roo sighed and pushed the bag into his fingers. He opened it and growled. It was an honest-to-God bearlike growl and for a split second Roo really
was
frightened.

“Where’ve you hidden it?” Niall asked and then looked at the garden and laughed. “Playing Hansel and Gretel, you little cheat? I should spank you.”

Oohh.
Why did that sound so appealing? Before she did something stupid, Roo turned and fled. She smacked straight into Niall.

“Where the hell did you come from?” she gasped.
Wow, he’s fast.

He wrapped his hands around her back and pulled her close. Roo wanted to kiss him more than she’d wanted to do anything for a long time, but she needed this job, and she wasn’t easy. She stamped hard on Niall’s foot and he yelped but didn’t let her go.

“You are the most—” Niall broke off, the smile slipped from his face and he took his arms off her. “Go,” he said.

Roo ran back to the house, wondering what the hell had just happened. He’d still been smiling when she’d stamped on his foot, so that wasn’t why he’d suddenly turned cold.

She’d hardly settled at her desk before the door opened and Taylor walked in holding a handful of mail. Had Niall heard him coming? She felt her face heat.

“Rearranging the furniture already?” Taylor quirked an eyebrow.

“I didn’t like staring at a blank wall.”

“You’re supposed to be working, not staring at walls.”

“I’ll move them back,” she muttered.

Taylor slumped behind his desk. “Leave it like it is. I’ll see if I like it. I’ll be able to tell if you’re daydreaming now. How’ve you got on?”

“Fine.” Roo’s answer for everything. She was
not
going to think of what just happened in the garden with Niall. “I tidied and sorted, and itemized the calls on different sheets of paper. I’ve put a few observations on the bottom—what I thought about the potential client. You didn’t tell me your computer password so I couldn’t link the paper files to the digital ones.”

“Marlowe with a four for the e.”

“Thanks.”

The phone rang and Roo picked it up. “Good afternoon. ICU Investigations.”

“Hello. Do you look for animals?” asked a young male voice.

“Er…”

“Our dog’s gone missing.” There was a snuffled sob at the other end of the phone.

“What’s his name?” Roo asked.

“Arthur. He’s a black, flat-coated retriever. He’s two years old.”

Roo glanced at Taylor who was engrossed in his mail.

“Me and my sister have put signs up everywhere, but no one’s called.”

“Where do you live?”

Roo started to make notes. This was a youngster on the other end of the phone. Strike one. And Roo already knew Taylor wouldn’t look for a lost dog. Strike Two.

Taylor looked round. His desk was much better at an angle like this. It made the room feel bigger. Everything looked tidy. How come she’d managed in half a day what the others hadn’t in more than a week? Taylor checked through the pages Roo had left on his desk, and read the notes she’d made.

Pompous guy
and
a cheapskate
and
a male chauvinist pig.
Taylor chuckled.

She wouldn’t stop crying all the time she was talking. Sounded on the edge of a breakdown.
Didn’t they all?

Husband hits her. Told her to go to police or find a woman’s refuge. Was that okay? Do we have a list of places to suggest?
Yep and yep.

Teenager has been missing for ten years. Parents still can’t give up hope. Mother said they know they’re clutching at straws.

The paper fell from Taylor’s hand and he swallowed hard. He glanced across the room at Roo. She was bent over, speaking urgently but quietly into the phone as she made notes.

“He likes biscuits? Right.”

What?

“Does he do as he’s told?” she asked. “He comes when you call him?”

Taylor stared at her.

“Is he micro-chipped?” she whispered.

What the hell?
Taylor lifted his phone and pressed the switch that enabled him to listen in.

“And what do your parents say?” she asked.

“Mum says he might just turn up. Dad’s…gone somewhere.”

Taylor ground his teeth.

“Have you any idea what might have happened to Arthur?” Roo whispered.

“I think someone’s taken him.”

Taylor put his hand over the mouthpiece and said, “Roo.”

She looked up and he shook his head. That caused her to frown but she kept talking. “Has he ever run away before?”

“Never. He always stays close to the house.”

“I’ll see what I can find out,” Roo said.

“Thank you.”

Taylor leapt out of his seat as she put the phone down. “Oh no you won’t. I’m not running a fucking charity. And we don’t look for bloody lost dogs.”

Roo glared. “He said he’d pay.”

Taylor put his palms flat on her desk and leaned forward. “How much?”

“Twenty pounds.”

“That won’t pay for shit and I can’t take money from a kid,” Taylor yelled.

“I wasn’t going to take his money.”

He backed away and leaned against his own desk. “So what were you going to do?”

“I thought I’d go and speak to his mother and the neighbors.”

“And what are they going to tell you that he hasn’t already heard?”

Roo chewed her lip. “He’s just a boy and he’s upset. He needs our help. There’s nowhere else for him to go. Even if he just wants to talk, we can do that, can’t we? At least by speaking to me he felt he’d
done
something.”

Taylor’s hands shook and he sat at his desk. That hit too close to home.

“I told you not to care,” he said in a firm voice. “You can’t bring emotion into this job. Leave it alone.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a Dictaphone. “Type this up. File it under Robinson. There are headphones in the drawer.”

When Roo didn’t move, he scowled at her. “And make me a coffee. Black, one sugar.”

She rose to her feet, grabbed the Dictaphone and put it on her desk, and then left the room. Taylor dropped his head into his hands. What the hell was wrong with him? He fancied her like mad and yet he kept yelling at her. It wasn’t going to kill him just to make her happy over this. He jumped to his feet, pulled on his jacket and went after her.

“Where does he live?”

Roo turned to him with an eager look in her eyes. “17 Rathman Court, Ilkley.”

“Come on then.”

She gasped. “We’re going now?”

“Isn’t that what I just said? Switch on the answer phone, get your notes and tell me everything he told you before I started to listen.”

Taylor wondered what the hell he was doing, but when Roo sat next to him in his car with that cock-lifting smile on her face and he glanced at her long legs, he knew damn well what he was doing.

Roo surprised him by managing to relay the salient facts of the conversation without veering off into another dimension. There wasn’t much to go on. The chances of finding this dog were zero. The animal had wandered off and either been picked up by a passing car or knocked over by one. It was a legal requirement to report hitting a dog with a vehicle to the police, but that didn’t mean shit.

Rathman Court was the other side of town, only a few minutes’ drive. Taylor parked around the corner on Steadman Road.

“Watch and learn,” he said. “Don’t say anything.”

“Not even hello?”

He sighed. “You can say hello.”

“And goodbye?”

“Are you smirking?” Taylor restrained his own smirk. “Hello and goodbye and that’s it.”

“What if they ask my name?”

She grinned when he glared and he wanted to laugh. Then he did laugh and Roo beamed back at him.
Oh God, my dick.

Taylor got out of the car and fastened his jacket. Fortunately it was long enough to hide the problem at his groin. He locked the car and walked over to a nearby lamppost. A laminated poster had been tied there—a picture of a jet-black dog wearing a red bandanna. Missing three days. Taylor turned, stared at the road and then walked down it, his gaze sweeping side to side.

“What are you looking for?” Roo asked.

“Signs of a car having swerved or even hitting the dog,” he said. “It could have happened anywhere, but if this is a pet that’s been well looked after, he might not have gone far.”

But he found nothing.

Roo tagged along at his side as he walked into the small cul-de-sac. Expensive houses, but then most of them were in this town.

The Farrant residence was in the far corner, but Taylor headed for the first house he came to. He had a half smile on his face and his PI license out as the door opened. He was usually taken for a policeman or someone on a religious crusade if the occupier didn’t spot the ID before they spoke.

The woman looked at him blankly. She was dressed for tennis in white shorts and white top.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Taylor said. “I’m looking for Jason Farrant’s dog.”

“Who?”

“The boy who lives at number seventeen?” Taylor said. “The dog’s a black retriever. Have you seen it?”

“Oh, I didn’t know the kid’s name. He’s been and asked. I’ve seen him walking it, but not for the last couple of days.”

“Is he well behaved? The dog, not the boy.” Taylor turned on his smile and received one in return.

“He picks up after it. His dad made sure of that.”

“I thought his father had moved away.”

The woman frowned. “I haven’t seen him around lately, but that’s his car on the drive.”

Five more houses, only two people in, but Taylor had more or less the same story. Boy was good with the dog. Always on a lead. Father not been seen for a week. Finally, Taylor knocked on the door of number seventeen. He assumed the boy who opened it was Jason. The kid’s gaze immediately dropped to look for his dog and Taylor watched disappointment flood his face.

“We’re from ICU Investigations,” Taylor said and Jason’s face lit up again.

“Who is it?” a woman yelled.

“Some people about Arthur, Mum,” he called.

A pale-faced woman with frizzy brown hair came down the hallway to stand behind her son. “What do you want?”

The slight aggression in her voice surprised Taylor.

“Your son called us to see if we could help find his dog,” Taylor said. “I’m a private investigator.”

“What did you do that for?” She glared at the boy. “I told you, someone must have taken him. There’s no way of finding out who.”

“Maybe your husband took him,” Taylor said.

Jason looked up at his mother. Taylor didn’t miss the tightening of her mouth.

“I’m sure he hasn’t,” she said.

Taylor smiled at her. “Have you asked him?”

She smiled back but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not in touch with him. If that’s all?”

“Can we see where the dog slept?” Roo blurted.

Taylor turned and mouthed, “
What?
”

“No,” said the woman.

“Please, Mum.” Jason tugged on her arm. “Please.”

“What’s the point?” she snapped.

“Please.” The boy looked close to tears.

“Oh, all right.” She reached for a remote sitting on a table behind her and pressed a red button. “You can get to the garage round the front.”

Taylor and Roo followed Jason to the garage door, his mother behind. There was a red convertible on one side of the double garage and packed shelves on the other. Below them was a large blue dog bed sitting next to a chest freezer. Roo bent down and picked up one of the chew toys from the bed—a chicken.

“Useful?” asked the woman, who stood with crossed arms.
Why so defensive?

“Yes, thank you.” Roo let the toy drop.

“Will you find him?” Jason asked.

“We’ll try,” Taylor said.

On the way out of the garage, with the boy out of earshot, he turned back to face the woman. “Why did your husband leave his car?”

She let out a short laugh. “I don’t know. I’ll ask Patrick if I ever see him again.”

Taylor walked out of the cul-de-sac back to the main road.