“Maybe I need to think about moving away.” Which she didn’t want to because Severton and its cult was the only route of information she had left.
Rayah looked from Abby to Alex and back. “This has got something to do with the fires, hasn’t it? And Lena and Lois being kidnapped.”
Abby felt the familiar weight thump into her chest.
“I don’t know.”
“But you think you might know something?”
“Stop it, Ray,” Jonny said. He was Rayah’s fiancé, Severton’s fire chief and father to three children that were currently sitting around another table in the bar’s beer garden. He was also the one who could tame Rayah when she fixed on something that might be slightly dangerous.
Rayah glared at him and shook her head. “I’m not going to do anything, but we all know there’s stuff going on at Felley Manor. That fire – the men who trapped me in that room…”
Abby saw Jonny’s face darken. It hadn’t been a good night. Rayah had stormed off, upset with Jonny and had come across one of her pupils who had told her there had been a man with a gun in her room. The pupil was the child of one of the church members, the cult who lived at the Manor. Rayah had been dragged inside the building, locked in and the two men responsible had set the place alight.
“They’ve closed the investigation.” It was the first thing Alex had said for probably an hour. “The two men were caught and charged with arson.”
“Why did they do it?”
“Garrison concluded it was due to addiction issues.”
“They weren’t high.” Rayah looked at him. “You know it’s bullshit, Al.”
Alex took a long sip of his beer. “I know.”
Rayah picked up Jonny's pint glass as hers was empty, taking a gulp of it. “You also know more than you’re letting on. “
Alex shook his head. “You’re not meant to say any more.” There was a warning in his tone, but a measured one.
Zack took his daughter from Sorrell who had finished feeding. “Be careful, Alex.”
“I always am. But I’d rather you knew as little as possible.” He looked over at Abby. “And don’t pressure Abby to tell you what she can’t.”
“So you know what’s going on?” Rayah finished Jonny’s drink.
Abby felt frozen by Alex’s gaze on her.
“Some of it.” He held his drink up to her. “Just waiting for her to tell me the rest.”
Agreeing to stay at Alex’s hadn’t really been an agreement as such, more of the conceding of defeat. Abby stopped before they got to the front door, her small suitcase in hand and the feeling of grubbiness gone. She’d been able to go home and shower, pack a bag, all the while Alex sat downstairs on her second hand two-seater sofa, reading a book he’d found in her front room on cross country skiing in Alaska, something she’d done in a former life.
He hadn’t said anything or asked any more questions since they’d left Scott’s bar, but he hadn’t needed to. His psychology was strong: wait it out and the other person will start talking.
Or in her case, kissing.
“I’ve got a spare key you can have.”
She wondered how to respond. Thank you was a no go as she wasn’t really thankful. This wasn’t a favour he was doing, he knew that his moves were going to get him some answers because she’d feel that she owed him. He was stubborn and she wasn’t sure she had the energy to be as stubborn back.
“I’ll sleep on the sofa.” There was no way she’d take up his bed.
“Fine.” He opened the door and gestured for her to go in first. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. There is a spare room where you can keep your stuff. I’ve been meaning to get a spare bed for a bit so I’ll see if I can have one delivered in the next couple of days.”
Abby didn’t respond. She simply went inside and put her suitcase in the corner, her laptop bag next to it. “Please don’t do it on my behalf.”
Her attempt to not look at him failed.
He wasn’t smiling now. His expression was serious, worried. The lips she’d kissed just hours before in a moment of stupidity weren’t happy.
Alex pushed a hand through his hair. “Did you ever play that game when you were a kid? Truth or dare?”
She looked at him cautiously. Any trust she’d had dissipated a couple of years ago. To tell someone the truth you had to trust them. “Once or twice.”
“Let’s play it now.” He sat down on the sofa where she’d fallen asleep last night. She remembered waking up briefly, draped over his chest. Despite being followed after work, her first thought had been how warm he’d felt, his scent – male musk and the remnants of the cologne he used and the strength of him underneath her.
Abby had first noticed Alex Maynard two weeks after starting work in Scott’s bar. He’d been in a couple of time with his brothers and Jake, but this night he’d come in alone, drank a beer then ordered a whisky.
“Bad day?” she’d asked, taking his money.
He’d gestured for her to keep the change.
“Just a bit. But it’ll make the good days seem even better.”
“Want to talk about it?”
He’d shaken his head. “Tell me something about you instead. What do you like to do?”
Climb, run, write about the countries she’d visited. Abseil down rock faces that should’ve been deemed too dangerous.
“Read.” It was a safe answer.
He’d laughed. “What’s your favourite book?”
“Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.” That was true. It had made her fall in love with Japan so she’d travelled there. Won an award for the articles that followed.
“Good choice. I preferred 'What I Talk About When I Talk About Running'. But that’s probably because Norwegian Wood makes me question myself even more.”
And that was it. They’d talked about books, then TV series, then movies. All safe subjects. But something told Abby he was hearing more than just her words.
That day had been the start of it. He knew her shifts and which nights were quiet. At least once a week he’d come in by himself and sit down to have a conversation, either during the day before one of his shifts or at the end of the evening. Each time she’d liked him more and on the odd occasion when he’d brought a woman in who he was dating, she’d struggled to not blurt something out, to pass some comment that would’ve given away how she felt because she’d had to hide everything.
Abby was tired of hiding everything.
“Drink first?”
He nodded.
She went into the kitchen and busied herself with the kettle, making tea. Thinking. She trusted Alex as much as she trusted anyone. Maybe it was time to share a little of the burden, have someone help.
What was the worst that could happen? He was somehow tied in with Garrison and she had to leave in the middle of the night, find somewhere new to become someone new?
Maybe it was time to take that risk. Trust her instincts.
Alex had changed by the time she took the tea into the lounge. He was sitting on the chair wearing the inevitable sweatpants and fitted T-shirt, his scruff bordering on beard levels and his hair all kinds of askew. Alex had never particularly given a crap about how he looked, something Abby had liked.