My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6) (10 page)

But why would this man follow them?

Gerard settled into a crouch, confident he’d remain unseen. The man waddled but his steps were sure and positive. There was something in his fluid motion that didn’t fit with the grizzled hair and lined face. His breathing was easy and not the hoarse, labored gasps of an overweight man.

He didn’t feel right.

As Gerard watched, the man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapped one out and lit up. He dragged in several puffs and wandered toward a vehicle.

Not suspicious at all. The man had stopped to enjoy a smoke.

Once he’d climbed into his vehicle and driven off, Gerard trotted back to his clothes, shifted and dressed.

The man still felt wrong, but he didn’t appear to be a threat to London.

Gerard’s phone blared out its musical ring tone at two thirty in the morning. Immediately awake, his first thought was of Henry. “Yeah.”

“It’s London,” she whispered, the words hoarse with fear.

Her terror stripped him of the remaining dregs of sleep.

“What’s wrong?” He slipped from the bed, clamping his phone to his ear while he struggled into his jeans.

“Someone is trying to break into my room.”

“Scream. Wake the Gibsons. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Five if he didn’t meet other vehicles.

He tore from the bedroom and grabbed his car keys. Geoffrey trotted after him.

“Stay.”

The Jack Russell ignored him and jumped into his SUV, scrambling over to the passenger seat, the instant Gerard opened the door.

“Hold on,” he said to Geoffrey as he pulled from their driveway and floored the accelerator. “This is gonna be a quick trip.”

The scrapping came on the window frame again along with a wooden squeak. Fear almost paralyzed her. It tightened her throat and her first scream emerged in a croak. The window rose, a big hand forcing it upward.

London darted for the door, her toe connecting with the corner of the bed. She grunted and kept going, flinging open the door. When she glanced over her shoulder, a head and shoulders appeared in the gap. She screamed, her dread rippling along the passage.

“Bitch,” a deep voice snarled.

She didn’t recognize the voice.

“Help!” Recalling her self-defense classes at home in Bath, she sucked in a deep breath. “Fire! Fire!
Fire!
”

To her relief, lights flicked on, piercing cracks beneath doors.

A woman in a bright pink robe—another guest—opened her door, her head a mass of rollers. “What is it?”

Mr. Gibson, her host, hurried down the passage a fire extinguisher in hand. “Where is the fire?”

“No fire. Intruder,” London gasped out. “Someone is trying to break into my room.”

Mr. Gibson didn’t hesitate. He plunged into her bedroom, fire extinguisher still in hand. The light flicked on, illuminating the interior of the room.

London swallowed her fear and followed.

There was no one in her bedroom, but the window was half open. She hadn’t imagined a thing.

“Stay here,” Mr. Gibson said. “I’ll check outside.”

“Should I ring the police?” his wife asked.

“I think they’re gone.”

London heard a dog bark, a shout, then another bark followed by a growl.

“London, you okay?” a familiar voice shouted.

“Who is it?” Mr. Gibson demanded, tension giving him a rigid stance.

“Gerard Drummond,” London said. “I called him first before I screamed for help.”

“Anyone out there, Gerard?” Mr. Gibson asked, the rail-thin man noticeably calmer at Gerard’s appearance.

“Geoffrey chased after someone. A man, I think. Geoffrey hasn’t come back yet.” Gerard didn’t seem worried and London relaxed.

“Go to bed, Mrs. Chase,” Mrs. Gibson said. “There is nothing to alarm anyone.”

“A person isn’t safe in their bed,” the guest complained but she returned to her allocated room and shut her door with a firm click.

“I think I’ll call the police anyway,” Mrs. Gibson said.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” her husband said. “I’m going outside to speak with Gerard.”

London heard barking again. There was no way she’d sleep now. Once Mr. Gibson disappeared, she pulled on warm sweats and made her way outside.

Geoffrey barked and trotted over to her. She stooped to pat the small white-and-black dog, and he leaned into her, enjoying the attention.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Gerard said when he joined them.

Geoffrey growled at him, and Gerard muttered something under his breath.

“Did you see who it was?” Mr. Gibson asked.

“No, but judging by his size, it was a man. He was fast on his feet. He used a crowbar to jimmy the lock.”

Mr. Gibson sighed. “These are old window frames. I’ve been thinking of having them replaced.”

“Why don’t you go back to bed?” Gerard suggested. “It’s cold out here.”

London shivered, despite her warm clothes. “I won’t be able to sleep in that room.”

Mr. Gibson frowned. “We don’t have another room for you to use.”

“You can stay with me,” Gerard said.

London nodded, not hesitating. “Yes, please.” Gerard made her feel safe, and he’d come at her call. “I was moving out tomorrow anyway. My bags are packed, ready to move to the new place.”

“You didn’t say,” Gerard said.

“It didn’t come up.”

“Cancel your booking and stay with me. It would put me at ease. An attempted break-in isn’t so bad by itself. I mean, it’s not good, but it happens. But combined with Jenny’s death, I don’t like it. I’d prefer to have you somewhere safe. Henry and I are security experts and not much gets past Geoffrey.”

“I’m sorry it’s come to this,” Mr. Gibson said. “Young Gerard is right. You need to keep yourself safe. I’m sorry we couldn’t accommodate you due to other bookings, but this might be best. If the room is empty, I can get to work fixing the window.”

London smiled at his practical attitude.

“I’ll give you a refund for tonight, since you’re leaving early.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Gibson. You looked after me and Jenny well.” She glanced at Gerard. “I’ll get my bags.”

Gerard and Mr. Gibson helped her with the bags, and they were soon on their way to Gerard’s place, Geoffrey sitting on her lap. She stroked his wiry fur, taking comfort from his warmth.

“Did you see his face?”

“No, just an arm and shoulder. It was dark. He called me a bitch, but I didn’t know his voice.”

“I didn’t see much either,” Gerard said. “I don’t like the coincidence. You need to ring home and find out if anyone has seen Jenny’s ex and question the solicitor regarding the will.”

“Since I’m wide awake, I can ring when we get to your place.”

Gerard’s house sat at the rear of a huge section. She couldn’t see much in the dark, but they turned off the main road onto a gravel driveway. One side seemed to be pasture, and she caught a glimpse of a building in progress. On the other side, the looming presence of trees cast extra gloomy shadows in front of their vehicle. Gerard pulled up in front of a house with a deck.

“Home, sweet home,” Gerard said. “Once we finish with our work buildings we intend to do some landscaping. Henry wants a vegetable garden, and I promised I’d help.”

London followed him into the sprawling single-level home.

Aware of the time difference, she rang the solicitor first to inform him of Jenny’s death and to ask several questions. After researching burial and transportation procedures, she’d decided to have Jenny interred here in Middlemarch. Her sister had talked of staying because she loved the area, so London’s decision seemed right.

“She signed the new will the week before we flew out of Heathrow,” London told Gerard once she’d ended the call.

He’d made them a cup of tea and they sat at a modern kitchen counter, each cupping their mugs.

“The solicitor told me she
had
put the divorce in motion and didn’t want Royce to receive any of the wealth and belongings she’d amassed. Evidently, he’d made bad property investments and had wanted Jenny to bail him out. She refused.”

“Is Royce entitled to any of her property?”

“The solicitor said yes. Jenny made allowance for this in the proposed divorce settlement. He’d receive their communal accounts and an apartment they’d purchased near Fleet Street. Everything else in her will is in just her name. The solicitor seemed to think that Royce can’t contest the will, given they had a formal separation agreement and a divorce underway.”

“Did Royce know?”

“The solicitor doesn’t think so. As far as Royce knows the wills they made together during their marriage still stand.”

Gerard nodded. “He knew she had money. So greed is a motive.”

“So are his debts.”

“Could be,” he mused. “Are you going to ring Jenny’s friends now?”

“I’ll ring a few.” She yawned. “I’m tired.”

“I’ll make up the spare bed for you.”

“No. I thought I might sleep with you. If that’s all right. I-I don’t think I can sleep in a strange room on my own.”

“We have top security. Geoffrey could stay with you.”

The dog lifted his head on hearing his name and growled. Gerard rolled his eyes.

“I could, but I liked the way you kissed me.”

There was a pause. “Just so we’re clear. Will we sleep or will we do other things?”

“I am tired, so I need to sleep, but my mind was going other places.” She ducked her head, cursing under her breath at the heat suffusing her cheeks. “I have no practice at this propositioning business.” She peeked to test his reaction.

Gerard’s lips twitched, and she got the idea he was laughing at her. She wrenched her gaze away again.

“Hey,” he said in a soft voice. “I want you in my bed. Want that, but I refuse to take advantage of you when you’re off-balance with all that has happened. I need you to make sensible decisions.”

“Sensible, huh? I wouldn’t have come with you if I’d had any doubts.”

“It’s been two days,” he said.

“I don’t work as fast as Jenny,” she shot back.

There was a moment’s pause before he chuckled.

“That is not a bad thing, London.”

“Okay then. I’d better make these calls. I’m not looking forward to them.”

The calls were worse than she’d imagined. Lucy cried. Charlotte cried. Susan cried. By the time she’d finished, her head ached, and she felt like bawling herself even though she’d wept enough. She swallowed and blinked hard to combat the nasty sting at the back of her eyes. “None of them have seen Royce, but they didn’t see him often anyway.”

“What about his employer? Do you know where he works?”

“Yes, at an accounting firm in Kensington High Street.” She pulled up the web browser of her phone and searched for the number. A few minutes later, she was speaking to the receptionist of Hindon, Sweet and Paxman.

“It’s not him. Royce has been off work sick, but he rang today to inform them he’d be back at work tomorrow.”

“Isabella said she has contacts in London. We’ll give her the details you have and get her to follow up.”

“What does Isabella do? How come she has contacts in London?”

“She used to live in Switzerland. I’m not sure what she did,” he said. “But she has lots of handy contacts. She helped Henry and me purchase the special equipment we needed for our business.”

“What does she do in Middlemarch?”

“She is in business with Caroline Rutherford. You haven’t met Caroline, but you’d like her. She and her husband work at Glenshee Station, not far from Lake Tekapo. Caroline designs and makes clothes and Isabella helps her. She is starting self-defense classes for women and martial arts classes for kids and there was mention of a boot camp. If Emily is busy at the café she helps out there too.”

“It’s a family atmosphere here in Middlemarch. The town has a nice vibe. I understand why Jenny was so enthusiastic about staying here with Henry.”

“Henry and I enjoy the community feel. To hear the elders talk, the town was dying. The young people were leaving because there was no work or entertainment for them here. The men stayed and the women moved on to other things.”

“Really? I didn’t notice more men than women.”

“It’s not as bad now. The balance between the sexes is better. Several couples have settled in Middlemarch and the town council works at the social side. Always something going on in Middlemarch.”

London yawned and tried to hide the evidence with her hand.

“You’re exhausted. It’s been an eventful day.” Gerard rinsed the mugs and placed them in the sink.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed. Geoffrey, basket.” He pointed to a padded dog basket and the terrier trotted over as ordered. He turned two slow circles and settled with a doggy sigh.

Bed
. Nerves struck at the word, but they faded when he took her hand and wove their fingers together. His touch reassured her and shoved away her unease, or at least, tamped it down. She had begged him to let her share his bed. Heat washed through her face. Sugar, she’d blushed enough in the last two days to power the entire South Island. This man made her so aware of him, yet he didn’t push or demand.