“My car?” He frowned.
“A red sports car. GAB 8T. The same car which has been following me to church, work and home for days.”
Gabe put the chips in the bin, no longer hungry. That number plate was his. “
What?
”
“I’m tired of you stalking and harassing me.”
He frowned genuinely puzzled. “But I’ve been up here filming, you know that.”
“Then you paid someone to do it. You have enough drivers and servants. Though what you hoped to gain by all this I have no idea.”
Gabe shook his head, brushing his hands on his jeans. “I promise I’m not paying anyone to follow you. I admit to sending the roses, but that’s all, and if you don’t want any more, then I’ll stop. Why would I stalk you anyway?”
“I have no idea.” Dawn thrust her empty cone in the bin. “But I want you to stop, because otherwise, Earl or no Earl, I’m going to the police and pressing charges.” She pushed to her feet. “Just leave me alone. Oh, and get your number plate fixed. The front one is broken.”
~*~
Gabe sat in his trailer feeling physically sick. Who could hate him this much? Hate him enough to ruin things between him and Dawn before they’d really started. His car was stalking her?
He’d brushed off the inconsistencies with his beloved red sports car. The seat was always in the wrong place. There was the crack in the off side mirror. A dent in the bonnet.
But the number plate? Nothing was wrong with that—he’d paid a fortune for the personalized plates.
Was his mother somehow in on this? Could that be behind her sudden decision for him to be driven everywhere in the limo and not taking his own car?
There was no way he could work like this. He called the director on his mobile and begged time off sick. Having been given a few days, Gabe called Southby and asked Peters to come and get him in his car.
“Your sports car is in for repair, sir. I’ll have to bring the limo.”
Gabe caught his breath. “My car is what?”
“It’s gone in for repair. Mr. Hardy noticed the front number plate was damaged, and there was also damage to the front bumper. The car went in yesterday. I’ll leave now.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Gabe hung up, his stomach threatening to eject his lunch. With numb fingers, he dialed the children’s home and waited for Blake to pick up.
“Cherry Tree House. Blake Tyler speaking.”
“Blake, it’s me. I need a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“And I need you to do this in person rather than ring.”
The chair squeaked. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”
Gabe stood pacing the trailer. “Go to Holly’s garage and find out who brought my car in for repair. If it’s there, stop her working on it. Call Nate Holmes and have him dust it for prints.”
“Why?”
“Dawn says my car has been stalking her. Peters says it’s in for repair, and I didn’t crash it. Or hit anything. And I know someone else has been driving it as the seat keeps moving. I want to know who it was. Peters is coming to get me, but I won’t be home for hours yet.”
“I’ll go now. I’ll call you back soon as I know anything.”
“Thanks, bro.”
~*~
Dawn drove towards home, the midafternoon sun warm through the windows of the car. She’d gone from the dam to see Jonni in Nottingham and spent almost two hours crying into her coffee. And a further hour or so talking. Tears still burned her eyes, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Jonni had suggested calling the police now, but Dawn wanted to give Gabe one last chance to do the right thing and back off.
Of course the delay meant she still had a good two hour drive ahead of her rather than being home by now, but she didn’t have anything else planned. And it had been too long since she’d seen Jonni.
She glanced in her driving mirror. A red sports car was in her boot. Too close for her to read the number, but she didn’t believe in coincidence. She shook her head. So much for Gabe’s good nature. She tapped the brakes, and the red car pulled back a little. Just enough for her to see the plate. GAB 8T. With a crack down the front of it.
Gabe’s car. Dawn frowned. He said he hadn’t driven it up here. Yet, here it was, in her boot. Was the man mental?
The car accelerated and bumped into hers.
“Oy.” Jerked into the seatbelt, she slammed on the brakes before pulling away again. This was beyond a joke. She’d stop at the next services and call the police. They could pull him over on the road and arrest him.
The sports car pulled level with her then side swiped her sending her car slewing to the left. Dawn struggled for control, but the car was going too fast and slid into a tree.
She sat stunned, the engine in front of her starting to smoke. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the seatbelt. She had to get out.
A bloke stood by the door, black hair, odd eyes then he was gone.
The seatbelt was undone, but the door was stuck fast.
Dawn pounded on the window. She had to get out of there.
The engine burst into flames.
~*~
Gabe sat in back of the limo. The traffic was at a standstill. They’d moved perhaps half a meter in the last thirty minutes. Several fire engines, ambulances, and police cars had raced past them. He sent up prayers for whoever was involved in the accident that must surely be blocking the carriageway.
His phone rang. Opening the window a little, he answered it. “Hello?”
“Gabe, it’s me.” Blake sounded uncharacteristically worried. “Your car isn’t in the garage.”
He caught his breath. “Hang on. Peters said it had gone in for repair.”
“Holly said it was booked in, but never arrived. She’ll let me know when it does. At which point, she’ll also contact the police and get it dusted for prints.”
“OK thanks. I was thinking of changing the car anyway.”
“But you love your sports car. You even gave her a name.”
Gabe grinned. “Yeah, well. I want something more, I don’t know, discreet. Less…”
“Showy-offy is the word of the day according to the kids,” Blake chuckled.
“I prefer pretentious, but yeah.” He wound down the window further. “There’s a lot of smoke up ahead. Looks like an accident. Two maybe three cars. Lots of emergency vehicles.”
“You take care.”
The limo began moving slowly. “Oh, I am,” Gabe told his brother. “I’m not driving, just sitting here—”
He broke off, recognizing one of the cars involved in the accident. He pounded on the glass separating him from Peters. “Pull over. Now.”
“Sir?”
“I said pull over. Blake, I have to go. Call you later.” Gabe hung up and shoved the phone into his trouser pocket. As soon as the car stopped, he leapt out backtracking to the accident scene.
A police officer stepped in front of him, a yellow fluorescent coat over his uniform and peaked cap pulled over his eyes. “Get back in your vehicle, sir. You can’t stop here.”
“You don’t understand.” Gabe pointed to the red sports car. “That’s my car.”
“Sir?”
“GAB 8T, the red Porsche. It’s my car. It was meant to be in a garage in Berkshire, but it never got there. Not that I booked it in.”
“Are you claiming this car was stolen? And who are you?”
“Lord Tyler, eighth Earl of Elton.” Gabe glanced past him to the other car. The front of it was burned out and embedded in a tree. Five firemen were working on it. His gaze fell on the number plate and frozen numbness filled him. Bile rose in his throat. “Dawn…”
He tore himself free running towards the remains of her car. He’d got perhaps five feet when two firefighters grabbed him pulling him away.
“Do you know the owner of that vehicle, sir?”
“Yes, her name’s Dawn. Dawn Stannis. She’s a friend.”
The cop looked at him. “Let the fire department get her out. You come and sit in my car, and we’ll take a few details.”
Gabe looked at Peters. “I want to know who booked my car into the garage and why they drove it up here instead.”
Peters nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The cop looked at Peters. “And you are?”
Gabe sighed. “This is Peters, my driver.” He pointed to the limo. “He was driving me home in that.”
“You said the Porsche was your car.”
“My personal car. The limo belongs to the estate.” He looked back at the wreck of Dawn’s vehicle. “How much longer until she’s free?”
“Not long. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?”
“Yes. The director, cast, and entire film crew at Ladybower Dam. And for the last hour, I’ve been stuck in traffic here.” He took a step away as the firefighters finally extracted Dawn and laid her on a stretcher. “I’m going with her.”
“I need to take this statement.”
“Once I know she’s OK, you can have all the statements you need. Peters, follow that ambulance.” He ran over to them. “Dawn? Dawn, can you hear me?”
Her eyes flickered.
Gabe looked at the paramedic. “I’m going with her. I can’t lose her.” He climbed into the ambulance and looked at her. He loved her. He knew that. And he had to somehow prove to her that he wasn’t involved and that his love was genuine.
But first she had to be all right.
12
Dawn leaned back on her pillows. She could hear Gabe moving around downstairs. Part of her wished he’d just go, but the other part was grateful he was around. His was the first face she’d seen on waking in the emergency department. He’d insisted on taking her home when the doctors released her, and now he was making her something to drink. He’d even sent Jonni a text on her behalf from her phone whilst sat in the ED.
Her phone rang, and she winced as she reached for it. “Hello.”
“Dawn, it’s me. Are you really all right?” Jonni sounded worried. “I can get in my car and drive down. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“I’m just sore. I’ll have a lovely seatbelt shaped bruise, but other than that and a sprained wrist, I’m fine. I got back about an hour ago. Gabe insisted on bringing me home in his limo and is downstairs making some tea and a sandwich. Might have shocked him with what I asked him to make, but oh well.”
“It’s the least he can do after his car drove you off the road like that.”
“It wasn’t him driving. It was the creepy bloke who’s been stalking me. The one no one believed me about.”
“Well, they will now. Did you tell the police?”
“Yes.” Dawn picked fluff off the bedspread. “And I gave them a description.”
“Hmmm, maybe I should come and stay. At least until they lock him up.”
“It’s fine. I just wish…” She paused. “Why’d this have to be so complicated? It’s so much easier when you fall in love with the boy next door. You know a normal bloke with a normal job. But me? No, I have to fall in love with an actor who is also one of the richest, titled men in the country.”
“Well, when you find that normal bloke, send him my way.”
“Things not so great with you and Bryan?”
“It’s just…There’s the doorbell. That will be him. Better go. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”
The phone went dead, and Dawn laid the handset down. She glanced at the open bedroom door to see Gabe standing there with a cup and plate in his hand. How much of that had he overheard?
Concern filled his deep blue eyes. “I made this myself. Cheese and jam, one of the best combinations there is.”
She smiled. “I thought I was the only person to like them.”
He put the cup and plate on the bedside table and perched on the bed beside her. “Dawn, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with the accident.”
“I know. The driver got out and looked at me. I knew there was something odd about his eyes from the numerous times I’d seen him before at a distance, but close up it’s obvious.”
Gabe frowned. “His eyes? What about them?”
“One’s blue and the other one’s green.”
He jerked as if he’d been shot. His eyes widened, and his hands clenched and then straightened. “What?”
“Black hair, bit shorter than you, I gave the police a description. But yeah, odd colored eyes. You look spooked.”
Gabe pulled his phone from his pocket. “One moment.” He dialed rapidly, his free hand tapping his thigh. “Hardy, it’s Lord Tyler. Where’s Damon?” He paused. “Yes, of course I mean Xavier Damon. How many Damon’s are there at Southby? Find him.” He hung up. “I’m going to have to go.”
She looked at him worry gnawing her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, nothing like that. This is simply something I have to go and deal with. I’ll call you tomorrow to see how you are.” He paused. “If you feel up to it, would you have lunch with me tomorrow? I’ll pick you up about twelve. We’ll go for a picnic.”
She hesitated. Inside her heart was screaming
yes, yes, yes
. But her head was telling her
no, no, no
. Why was she so conflicted over this? She needed to pray, ask God for guidance and a resolution to this.
“Please.” His tone was almost begging. “Just give me a chance to show you that despite all the trappings I bring with me, I am just a normal bloke.”
“You heard that?”
His gaze held hers captive. “You, me, a picnic in the park.”
“OK,” she whispered. “Tomorrow it is.”
He smiled and kissed her fingers. “I’ll pick you up about half-past eleven.”
~*~
Gabe left the house carefully shutting the door behind him. Peters stood by the limo waiting to drive him back to Southby. As he fastened his seatbelt, the phone rang.
“Gabe, are you all right? You hung up on me and there were pictures on the news of your car…” Blake sounded worried.
“The Porsche is totaled, but we both know I wasn’t driving that one. I’m fine, Dawn’s bruised, but she’s going to be OK. I went with her to the hospital and brought her home once they’d released her.” He paused. “I told the police I didn’t know my car had been stolen. That it was meant to be in the garage for repair after someone drove it without permission.”
“All perfectly true. Do they believe you?”
Gabe sighed watching out of the tinted windows as the car moved. “I think the fact I was on set all morning helped, and I wasn’t alone for long before Peters picked me up. It also helped that Dawn could give a description of the stalker and driver. Black hair, shorter than me. Odd colored eyes.”