between them. I leant down and picked up the baseball bat our attacker had dropped, handling it carefully even though I knew there was little chance of useable prints.
Movement caught my eye and I glanced across towards the yard, only to see two figures standing by the edge of one of the buildings, staring at us. It wasn’t hard, at that distance, to recognise Torquil and his bulky bodyguard, the one he’d dismissed while he watched Dina finish her lesson. Now, the man was glued to his shoulder, tense, head constantly moving to survey the scene with his hand never far from the weapon hidden beneath his open jacket.
But it was Torquil himself who really caught my eye. He stood with both hands clenched at his sides, shoulders hunched and his neck rigid. I had no idea how long he had been there, or how much he’d seen, but where I expected to see shock, or maybe even a tinge of excitement at what he’d just witnessed, instead it looked for all the world like someone had just broken his newest best toy.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
‘I don’t know who those two were,’ I said, ‘but they were amateurs.’
‘Tell that to poor Raleigh – they bust his
I heard the slightly shrill note in her voice and resisted the urge to snap at her, taking a quiet inhalation before I spoke. We were back safe in the living area of the Willners’ house. Caroline Willner was in her customary seat with its back to the windows. Opposite was Parker Armstrong, while Dina and I were on another sofa to the side.
Parker had not come alone, arriving with Erik Landers in tow. Landers was a big guy from Colorado, solidly built, ex-US Marine Corps and proud of his service. He still carried himself with that fierce pride, took everything a little too seriously, never let standards slip. He was utterly dependable in a firefight, but was still adjusting to the very different world of executive close protection. Parker had struggled to persuade him to let his hair grow longer than the regulation millimetre of fuzz.
Landers currently stood behind Dina and me like a sentinel. Dina had changed into a pair of denim hot pants – which looked ‘distressed’ via an expensive designer label rather than prolonged wear and tear – and a silk T-shirt. She had her foot up on a stool with an ice pack draped over her knee. I, too, had taken the trouble to change when I’d finished unloading the horses and now presented my client and my boss with as tidy and unruffled a facade as I could conjure.
I’d called Parker from the riding club and he’d surprised me by coming out right away, arriving back at the house before we did. I hoped that the only reason he’d arrived so fast – and brought Landers with him – was in case I needed more permanent backup, rather than to demonstrate a lack of trust in my ability to handle the situation on my own.
‘Why didn’t I catch them?’ I repeated, keeping my tone even and pleasant. ‘Because that’s not my job, Dina. My job is prevention, not cure.’
‘Which you appear to have done quite well,’ Caroline Willner said, her voice dispassionate. ‘Nevertheless, it is … unfortunate that these people escaped when the opportunity might perhaps have presented itself to apprehend them.’
Before I could defend my actions, Parker spoke for me. ‘Charlie couldn’t have gone after them without leaving your daughter unacceptably exposed,’ he pointed out. ‘It has been known for the initial attack to be just a diversionary tactic to try and draw off the close-protection team.’ He met my eyes, just the hint of a smile lurking in his. ‘And while it may be somewhat unorthodox to throw a horse at an inbound threat, there’s no doubt what she did was effective.’
But despite the praise, I heard vague disappointment in his voice.
‘Next time,’ I promised gravely, ‘I’ll throw it harder.’
His cheek twitched in an otherwise stony face. ‘Unfortunately, I think it’s likely that there
‘No!’ Dina said, more sharp than firm. ‘I don’t
‘Dina, be reasonable,’ her mother said stiffly. ‘We’re merely trying to keep you safe.’
‘I am safe,’ she said. ‘You asked me to accept a bodyguard, and I’ve done that. Now you want me to have two. Where does it end – with me barricaded into my room, afraid to leave the house?’
Mother and daughter locked gazes, duelling silently. It was Dina who gave way first, but her weary yet dignified tone was more effective than any shouted argument. ‘Leave things as they are, Mother – please. I’ll be fine.’
‘You’re taking risks,’ Caroline Willner said quietly. ‘I … don’t like it.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Dina repeated. Her body was tense. More was at stake here than just the question of an additional bodyguard. I wondered again at the power plays between them, about Dina’s refusal to go to Europe, and who was winning their long-running, tortuous game.
After a moment longer, Caroline Willner sighed. ‘All right, darling,’ she said, glancing down as if distracted by an imaginary speck on her dress. ‘In that case, Mr Armstrong, I’m afraid I must decline your offer of extra protection, and trust to Ms Fox to do her best.’
‘She always does,’ Parker murmured. He rose, inclined his head to them both, his manner almost courtly in his capitulation. ‘Charlie. See me out, would you?’
‘Of course.’
I led both men down to the entrance hall and through the massive front doors into the gentle warmth of the late afternoon. Landers stepped to the edge and stood looking outward, head moving slowly as he checked the perimeter, the neighbouring houses, and the view of the road. The Navigator that had brought Parker and Landers out to Long Island sat off to one side of the driveway under the shade of the trees. It looked small in a space that would have swallowed a dozen limousines.
I could see by the tilt of his head that Landers was waiting for what Parker would say to me with avid concentration, but I suppose I couldn’t really blame him for that.
Parker had leant back against the low wall that bordered the front of the house. ‘You carrying?’
Wordlessly, I reached under my open jacket and slipped the SIG from its holster. I thumbed the release to drop the magazine, worked the action to send the chambered round tumbling out onto the paving at his feet. I showed him the open breech to prove the gun was safe as I dumped it into his hands. Then I stooped to retrieve the fallen round, wiped it with my fingers and thumbed it back into the magazine, handing that over, too.
Parker gave the SIG no more than a cursory inspection, weighed the magazine in his palm to judge the load before slotting it back into the pistol grip without a fumble, even though his eyes never left my face. He could have done it all just the same in the dark.
He returned the weapon without comment. I pinched back the slide to feed in the first round again, the action working with a slick metallic double click, well oiled and well cycled. The SIG had no conventional safety catch, only a slide lock to hold the action back. Carried with the first round already chambered, it was instantly ready for use.
‘So why didn’t you use it?’ Parker asked, as if reading my thoughts.
I tucked the gun away under the hem of my jacket, smoothed the cloth down again over the top. ‘Are you honestly telling me you’d rather be up to your neck in policemen at this very moment?’ I asked. ‘Because if I’d drawn on the guy, the only way I could have stopped him was to shoot him. I wasn’t prepared to use deadly force against a man armed with a piece of sports equipment. I don’t suppose you’re likely to get anything from the bat he left behind, incidentally?’
‘You said they were wearing gloves, so I doubt it, and it’s a cheap make, available from just about any sporting goods outlet,’ Parker said, brushing aside my attempt to divert him. ‘And you didn’t know for sure he wasn’t carrying.’
‘I didn’t know he was, either,’ I countered. ‘And if he
