have, perhaps this could have been avoided. For me, at least.
After dinner, Amelia sat in my study with her laptop. I watched her press Send.
Looking up at me, she smiled. “There. It’s done. Now I can return to my life.”
I scribbled a check for fifty thousand pounds. “Here.”
She stared at it and then me. “I can’t take this. I was only doing my job. In any case, the Guardian’s paying for this story.”
“Not much, though. Good journalists are an endangered species. Let’s just say I’m investing in quality journalism. In fact, give that back.”
She handed it over, almost looking disappointed. Her wince as I tore it up didn’t go unnoticed.
I scribbled a new check for two hundred thousand pounds, knowing that it would make a huge difference to her life. I admired her work ethic. She was intelligent, tenacious, and hardworking, deserving of a break.
“I won’t hear any protests. It’s yours. All your years of hard work. You’ve earned it.”
The piece of paper trembled in her hand. Her green eyes widened. “But this is exorbitant.”
I changed the subject. “What now?”
She took a steadying breath. “They’ll publish the story, and by afternoon, it will go viral. Everyone will be seeking information on Gareth Lion. And I’m certain more girls will testify.”
* * *
THE FOLLOWING DAY, as Amelia had predicted, the story dominated the airwaves. Even the morning show on television, which Maria normally had on in the kitchen, ran it. I went in to grab a banana when it came on. The story described a private island where unsuspecting young females were plied with alcohol and drugs and cajoled into sex and in some cases, raped. Most of the girls were underage.
Maria handed me a cup of coffee. She did the sign of the cross. “Dio mio, how evil.”
I returned a solemn nod and then left to meet James, who I’d planned to catch up with at our club, which was a five-minute walk from my home.
Although it was a little early for my first drink, I agreed on a fiery hit as he sat before me, pale and biting a nail.
“I’m fucked. I thought they’d keep me out of it.”
I held up my hands. “It wasn’t me.”
He released a deep breath of resignation. “I suppose it wasn’t going to end well.”
“But from what you’ve said, there are bigger fish to fry. I can’t imagine they’ll charge everyone involved.”
He sniffed. “Yeah, well, that would wipe out half of the upper classes.”
“That many?” I asked, shocked that so many men had a thing for young girls.
“For an intelligent, experienced man of the world, Blake, you are surprisingly out of touch with the habits of the rich.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. Well… it’s fucking immoral. In the true sense of the word.”
He lifted his hands in defense. “She told me she was seventeen.” His tone was rougher and more serious than I’d ever recalled. Always the easygoing one, James had never allowed anything to ruffle him, which I’d put down to a privileged upbringing. Now that he’d been thrown into the pits, the dirty game of life had knocked reality into him, forcing him to grow up and take some responsibility.
54
* * *
PENELOPE
AFTER ONE WEEK INTO my stay, I’d filled an entire sketch pad with Raven Abbey’s facade.
It was late afternoon, and Blake had called, suggesting that I visit his mother. He’d spoken to her, and she was looking forward to my visit and even hoped I would stay the night, which appealed to me.
Tony, my bodyguard, showed me pictures of his young daughter. I could see that he missed her madly, and I asked him if he’d like to return earlier than he’d planned.
He shook his head. “I need the work. And Blake Sinclair pays really well. I just wanted to show you a picture of Carly.”
I smiled. “She’s lovely.” I headed toward the dirt path. “So, are you ready for a walk in the forest?”
He nodded. “I’ve lost a bit of weight with all this exercise. It’s better than standing around looking threatening.”
I laughed along with him, having grown to like him.
We made our way into the thick wood, and although it was afternoon, the forest was bathed in shadows. I stood in a rare beam of sunlight and lifted my face. A robin in a tall oak greeted me.
I heard a rustle behind me and assumed it was Tony, who always insisted on walking a few steps back to protect me.
Leaning against a tree, I took a break. After a few moments,