Final Justice (Lorne Simpkins thriller (Book Three)) (13 page)

‘Lorne? What’s going on? You
never
lie. Come on, tell me where you’ve been, and why you involved Judith, her name at least, knowing that she rings me regularly?’

It was Lorne’s turn to cast her eyes over at the bar to see how far her father had progressed in the queue. She could’ve kicked herself for using their friend Judith as an excuse. In her haste, she had forgotten how close Jade and Judith were, especially since they’d both had babies within a few weeks of each other. Now, she had a dilemma of her own to solve. Did she confide in Jade about where she had disappeared to, knowing the amount of stress her sister was already under, or, did she tell another lie, and risk being caught out again by her astute sister?

‘I don’t want to worry you, hon.You’ve got enough on your plate at the moment.’

Jade took the baby from Lorne, and settled him into the high-chair next to her. ‘Lorne, when mum died we made a promise that we’d never keep secrets from each other. I’ve just lived up to my side of the bargain by telling you about the baby, now spill.’

Lorne’s eyes dropped to the table, she picked up the salt and pepper pots in front of her and started twirling them on the table. ‘He’s back.’ she whispered.

‘Sorry?’

Lorne looked her sister in the eye and in a much louder voice, she said, ‘He’s back, Jade.’ She watched the expressions change on her sister’s face, ranging from puzzlement to comprehension in quick succession as she repeated, ‘He’s back.’

‘Who’s back?’ her father asked, setting the three glasses down on the table.

Shit, shit, shit! Damn her big mouth!

Lorne’s silence, coupled with his experience as a former Chief Inspector in the Met, meant it didn’t take him long to work out who she was talking about. He sat down heavily in the seat opposite as the colour drained from his face. ‘You’re kidding. Where? When? More to the point, why?’

Lorne recounted the drama she and Tony had been through the past few days, or at least ninety percent of it. ‘So you never went to Judith’s, then.’

‘No, Dad. Please forgive me for lying, Tony turned up and— ’

He banged his fist on the table. ‘Tony had no right to involve you in this, Lorne. You’re out of the game, now.’

‘I know, Dad, but he remembered what I said to him last year when we got Charlie back, you know, about me wanting revenge. Well, he kind of took me at my word.’

‘So what happens now?’

‘I don’t know, the last I heard Tony was going to go digging for dirt. It depends what he digs up, I suppose.’

Sam reached a bony hand across the table and gripped hers. ‘Please, Lorne, promise me … promise me you won’t get involved.’

Lorne’s eyes rose to his. He looked tired and old and she regretted how much pain her following words would cause him, but it didn’t stop her from shaking her head and saying. ‘I can’t do that, Dad.’

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

 

Lunch turned out to be one of the quietest they’d ever spent together as a family. At times each of them had become lost in their own deep scary thoughts, reliving the horrors of the previous year. They parted soon after eating their meal, which was a rarity.

 On the way home, Lorne stopped off at the park to give Henry an extra run, to make up for deserting him the way she had, it also gave her some much needed time to clear her head.

She watched the eight-year-old run around with the boundless energy of a two-year-old, but she didn’t succeed in clearing the turmoil going on in her mind.

Lorne arrived home and spent the next four hours cleaning the house from top to bottom, which she only tended to do when her mind wouldn’t shut down, so she knew then, that she was in big trouble. After a quick sandwich, she settled down to an evening in front of the telly, making sure she avoided the soaps, aware that Charlie would fill her in on those at the weekend during her visit.

At around nine, her mind was churning so much that she decided to get her thoughts down on paper.

 

1. The Unicorn/Baldwin, why has he resurfaced in France?

2. Why is he out in the open and not living under an assumed name? Knowing that there is an active arrest warrant awaiting him, albeit in England. 

3. Why were the murdered Finance Ministers in Normandy?

4. Why had they held a meeting with Baldwin?

5. Why Normandy? Why not the South of France?

6. Why had she slept with Michel?

7. Was there more to Michel than met the eye? Had he really grown up around Normandy?

8. Why? Why? Why? Had she told Jade about Baldwin, only for her father to overhear?

9. And finally, why the heck was she making notes about a case she didn’t want to get involved in? 

 

Deep in thought, she almost hit the ceiling when the phone rang. ‘Hello?’ She ruffled the top of Henry’s head as she answered.

‘Ah, Lorne. You’ve arrived back home safe and well I see.’ A haunting laugh travelled down the line.

Her eyes closed and she broke out in a cold sweat, but forced herself to remain calm and in control. It had been a whole year since she’d last heard the goading voice. She placed a hand over the mouthpiece and blew out a breath, then responded nonchalantly, ‘Baldwin, what do you want?’

‘You disappoint me, Insp … oops, can’t call you that anymore, can I? You disappoint me, Lorne.’

She shuddered as her name was drawn out by his poisonous tongue. ‘In what way?’

‘You and your agent boyfriend gave up so easily, not what I expected at all. Especially after the way you threatened me, well, some might call it a threat. I, on the other hand, would say it was more like an anguished cry of revenge by a
very
desperate woman.’

‘For a start, Tony is
not
my boyfriend, and I assure you I will carry out my threat, one day. After all, I’ve allocated a special place on my desk for your gonads, I’m in need of a new paperweight.’ She amazed herself by pushing away the fear and replacing it with the feistiness she’d always shown the criminal.

His laughter filled her ear. ‘I see your fighting spirit is still intact despite the losses you’ve incurred, dear lady.’

Don’t give into him, Lorne. Stay strong and calm.
‘That’s one thing you haven’t been able to take from me, Baldwin, and I doubt you ever will.’

‘Hmm … that sounds like a challenge to me.’

She heard him smack his lips, and shuddered again. She was used to him playing mind games with her, but she didn’t feel nervous, because she knew he was in France. Or was he? She wondered if he’d followed her back to England. No, she doubted that, doubted he had the balls to enter the country knowing that he would be arrested, if he came anywhere near the UK.

‘Like I said, what do you want, Baldwin?’

‘I see your patience hasn’t improved any since your retirement. This time, nothing, except to give you one final warning, Lorne. BACK OFF. And get your agent boyfriend to back off, too. Otherwise …’

He left the words hanging, all she heard next was the dial tone.

As her anger deepened she threw the phone across the room just managing to miss the TV in the corner, thinking it was one of his toys, Henry trotted over to pick it up, he returned holding it in his mouth and placed it gently in her lap. Despite feeling like shit, she smiled down at him.

‘Where would I be without my faithful companion to brighten my day?’ 
 

Picking up her pen, she added a couple more questions to the list.

10.  Why did Baldwin still want to make her life hell?

11.  What was it going to take to get rid of the bastard once and for all?

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

Lorne woke at eight on Friday morning, feeling the brightest she’d felt in a year. Did Baldwin’s phone call have something to do with that? Or had her trip to France, especially the trip to the cemetery, forced her to push on with her life, and to put the past behind her?

After walking Henry, she popped down to Waitrose
;
her kitchen cupboards were bare and she needed to stock up on food for the weekend. Charlie was a typical teenager, a regular human dustbin. From the minute she stepped foot in Lorne’s house on a Friday evening, the contents of her fridge were under attack. God knows where she put it, at a very slim size eight there wasn’t an ounce of excess weight on her bones.

As Lorne finished adding a layer of grated cheese to the cottage pie she’d rustled up for dinner, the phone rang. She hesitated before answering it, not recognising the number on the display she took a deep breath. ‘Hello?’

‘I need you to pack a bag.’

‘Tony?’

‘Unless you have a secret lover, correction
another
secret lover, you’re not telling me about, who else would be ringing you up to tell you to pack a bag?’

‘Full of wise arse statements aren’t you, agent boy?’

‘And you’re intent on making me your enemy, Lorne, if you keep calling me that.’

She smiled and imagined him pulling all sorts of faces at his end. ‘Anyway, hon, that’s a negative.’

‘What’s a negative?’

‘Me packing a bag. I have Charlie coming for the weekend, and after letting her down last week I can’t, no, I
won’t
do it again.’

‘You’re kidding, right? Winding me up?’

‘Nope.’

Lorne heard him blow out a frustrated sigh, and waited for the backlash. ‘Hey, Lorne, the kid will understand. You can make it up to her in the future. You have a lifetime to make it up to her.’

‘You know what, Tony? You can tell you haven’t got any kids. My life wouldn’t be worth living if I let her down two weeks in a row. And furthermore, I’m in a lifetime of debt to the girl already after what Baldwin did to her.’

‘Point taken with regard to last year, but …’

‘No buts, Tony, not this time.’

‘Guess you’re not interested in what I found out then?’

‘I didn’t say that. Oh and just to let you know, Baldwin knows we’re on his tail.’

‘How the heck do you know that? Oh wait a minute, been talking to
froggie,
have we?’     

She held the portable phone between her head and shoulder, as she sliced up the tomatoes to go on top of the dinner she’d slaved over for the past hour-and-a-half. Tutting loudly, she said, ‘You’re such an arshole at times. No, it wasn’t Michel who told me, I actually heard it from the horse’s mouth.’

Silence.

‘Tony?’

‘Did I hear you right? Baldwin’s made contact with you?’

‘Yes and yes. He told me it was my final warning, and that you and I should back off.’

‘Don’t you see, Lorne, you’ll have to come with me now.’

She placed the casserole dish in the oven, and walked through to the lounge. ‘How do you work that one out? And the answer is still, no, by the way.’

‘He’s obviously worried, otherwise, why would he contact you after all this time?’

‘I don’t know, and I don’t care. Not before the weekend anyway. End of. Now, tell me what you managed to find out?’

‘No way, Jose, you either come with me or I withhold the details, the choice is yours.’

‘Tell you what, Tony, go play your futile games with someone who cares.’ She pressed the end call button on the phone.
Bullying jerk, who the hell does he think he is?

Before
she had the chance to pick up her magazine, the phone rang again. Seeing that it was the same number, she waited, and waited. Finally, after twenty rings she answered it, but didn’t speak.


You
care
, Lorne, I know you do. I’m sorry for not thinking about Charlie, but I have information, good information, and if we don’t get back to France immediately, I can’t see another opportunity arising for us to nab the bastard.’

‘Clarify?’

‘When we’re in France.’

‘So it’s something big, then?’

‘It’s
big
all right. Far bigger than any of the stunts he’s pulled off in the past.’

Jesus, he sure knew how to gain her attention. Could she go back to France so soon? Could she let Charlie down, again? As she mulled over the questions the little voice in her head replayed Baldwin’s goading voice, not only the conversation she’d had with him the night before, but the night he’d pulled the trigger on Jacques, too. Goading, taunting, warning her to back off, and not to interfere. Then she found herself thinking,
you’ve never listened to him before so why should you listen to Baldwin now?

She let out a long resigned breath. ‘When do we leave?’

‘I’ve booked us on the nine-fifteen leaving Heathrow, make sure you pack only the essentials.’

‘How many days?’

‘Hmmm … I’d say at least a week.’

‘A week! Tony, I have a dog to think about, I can’t keep farming him out.’

‘Not my problem, Lorne. I’ll pick you up at seven on the dot.’

That gave her five hours to drop Henry off at her father’s again, pack a bag, call Charlie and apologise, again. She worked her way backwards through the list. Charlie was still at school and Tom had been called out on a breakdown at work. So, she chose the cowards way out and left a message, a very apologetic message on their answer-phone.

She ran upstairs, emptied out the overnight bag she hadn’t even unpacked from their last trip, and stuffed it with t-shirts, skinny jeans, a couple of jumpers and underwear. Then she ran into the bathroom and gathered up her toiletries, adding them to the bag.

A few minutes later, she was in the car en-route to her father’s house with Henry in the back, his head hung low.
Jesus
"
Psychic dog" strikes again, he knows exactly where he’s going and what’s happening. ‘
I promise I’ll make it up to you, boy.’

‘Lorne?’ Her father looked puzzled, when the pair appeared in the rear garden of his semi-detached house.

‘Hi, Dad … umm, I need to ask a big favour.’

Sam shook his head. ‘Not if you’re going back to France, I’m not.’

‘Dad, please. I need to do this.’

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