Gold Rush (Blackwood Security #4) - Elise Noble Page 0,4

death. Now she lived in a London suburb, happily married to a cab driver, with two young sons and a cockapoo named Gordon. I’d snorted coffee when she told me the dog’s breed, but apparently cocker spaniels crossed with poodles were all the rage over there.

I trembled so much it took me three goes to dial her number, but the effort was worth it when I heard her voice.

“Lara! It’s been ages! How are you?”

I tried to keep my sobs to a minimum as I poured my heart out, detailing everything from the mugging to the unshakeable feeling that someone was stalking me.

Her gasps, followed by a stunned silence when I finished, helped to strengthen my tenuous grasp on reality.

“That’s awful. You need to go to the police.”

“And tell them what? That my apartment smells odd? A pen isn’t where I left it? They’d have me committed.”

Although that might not be so bad. Compared to my apartment, a padded cell would actually be quite comfortable.

“Okay, so it sounds a bit farfetched, but I still think you should consider it. Maybe they’d put your apartment under surveillance?”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Last month, a kid got murdered on the next block, and it took the cops three days to interview anyone. My issue’s hardly going to be a priority. When I put it into words, I can barely believe it myself.”

“Just think about it, okay? Do you have any idea who it might be?”

I’d racked my brains in that regard, staring at my neighbours with suspicion and trembling every time I saw a stranger.

“Not a clue. But when the mugger took my wallet, my address was in it, so maybe it’s connected somehow? What I don’t understand is why someone would follow me. I’m the least interesting person I know. I might as well be invisible.”

“You’re only invisible because you want to be. Billy did that to you.”

At the mention of his name, fear trickled through me. I’d tried so hard to forget him. “Don’t talk about Billy.”

“Just because he was an asshole doesn’t mean you need to hide away for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t hide away.”

“You go to work; you go home. What else do you do?”

“I need the money,” I mumbled.

“You need to live.”

What was I supposed to say to that? Deep down, I knew she was right. I just didn’t want to admit it.

“When are you coming to visit?” Tori asked.

“When I win the lotto.”

Since I couldn’t afford to play the lotto, it would be a long wait.

“I’ve offered to pay for your plane ticket.”

“I know, and I appreciate it, I really do. But I can’t accept something so expensive. I’m saving up.” And at the rate I was saving, I’d be able to fly to England about the same time as mankind colonised Mars.

“Well, the offer’s always there.” Her voice softened. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” I lied.

I flopped back onto the bed, thunking my head on the wall as I misjudged the distance. Despite the early hour, I was tired. So tired. My body craved rest, but I made myself get up and change instead. If I didn’t hurry up with the chores, I’d be late for work, and I didn’t have the energy to run all the way there.

That evening, I wore a chocolate-brown knee-length skirt with a cream blouse, topped off with a pair of sneakers—ugly but practical. I couldn’t sprint in high heels. When I first started working at the bar, one of the waitresses, a twenty-year veteran, had explained that tips were directly proportional to skirt length, and careful experimentation had proven her absolutely right. The shorter the skirt and the higher the heels, the more money I made.

Not only was my income suffering with my new outfits, Buck wasn’t impressed either. A pervert at best and an asshole at worst, the first day I turned up in jeans and a sweater, he’d hauled me through to the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Uh, jeans?”

“Did you forget that this is a bar, not some mom and pop grocery store?”

I withered under his stare. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m a little nervous after the mugging, and I can walk faster in pants.”

He folded his arms. “Well, I suggest you get un-nervous before I lose clientele to bars where the girls make an effort. If that happens, I’ll have to start losing staff as well.”

And work was scarce in Baysville. I wasn’t sure whether Buck was genuinely concerned about his customers

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