bother clobbering the riding instructor? Why take the risk of losing control of the situation by physically engaging with Raleigh when he could have simply stood back and threatened all of us into submission at the outset?’
Parker’s eyes narrowed a fraction. ‘Did you work all this out at the time, or after?’
I smiled. ‘If the first guy had shot Raleigh instead of smashing his arm, Parker, I would have put two through his mouth in a heartbeat, of that you need have no doubts.’
Parker’s answering smile was rueful. ‘Yeah, I guess you would,’ he said. He leant back against the wall again and folded his arms, reminding me painfully of Sean. ‘I just needed to make sure you didn’t hesitate for the wrong reasons.’
My chin came up. ‘Because of California, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
I’d come under attack while covering a principal out there and had fired on three men I’d been convinced were aiming to kill us. It turned out that I was mistaken – about part of it at least. I had escaped an attempted murder charge by the skin of my teeth, and had no wish for a repeat performance.
‘There was also the additional factor that I seriously doubted Dina’s horse had ever been in close proximity to a discharging handgun before,’ I added. ‘If I’d fired on our attackers and he’d gone crazy, who knows what kind of damage he might have done to the girl.’
Parker’s head tilted slightly, considering. ‘Now that one you
I shrugged. ‘OK,’ I agreed meekly, ‘but the logic still holds. You didn’t see the way Cerdo was acting up, or how determined Dina was not to let go of him. And he was panicking enough as it was – adding gunfire into the equation would have been a recipe for disaster.’
‘So instead you used the horse as an offensive weapon.’
‘It was the only thing I could do that allowed me to keep some kind of control over the situation. Besides, like I said – they were amateurs.’
‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ Landers broke in, his voice almost diffident, ‘but just ’cause they was not carrying sidearms does not make them amateurs – nor does failing to overwhelm a professional close-protection officer, if you’ll pardon me for saying so. You underestimate yourself, ma’am.’
‘Thanks, Erik, but for God’s sake call me Charlie, not ma’am. I was an ordinary grunt, not a Rupert,’ I said, grinning at him. No way had I been considered officer material back in the army. ‘And my assessment has very little to do with how they were armed.’
Parker caught my eye and nodded his agreement. ‘If they’d been pros they would have taken you out as their primary objective, even though you were not the most obvious target,’ he said softly, ‘because they would have gathered enough intel to know exactly who and what you were.’
‘But they didn’t,’ I said. ‘They were sloppy and slow to react and too fixed on Dina to see danger coming from another direction, so either their intel was bad, or they were working without any. Either way,
Parker frowned. ‘But the other victims described well-planned and well-executed ambushes or snatches.’
‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘So either we have two different groups at work, or the connection between these kidnappings is not the social circle in which the victims move.’
‘Because anyone who was at the party on the yacht would have known you were Dina’s bodyguard,’ Parker finished. He paused. ‘Doesn’t narrow it down much.’
‘Yeah, but it may put Dina’s mind at rest if we’re looking for complete strangers rather than among her friends,’ I said. ‘Although …’
He waited a beat, eyebrow raised. ‘The Eisenberg kid,’ he supplied. ‘Orlando told you he was hanging around her before she was taken, and now he shows up at the riding club out of the blue, on the day an attempt is made on Dina. Coincidence?’
‘I sort of doubt it,’ I said. ‘And you didn’t see him after it was all over, standing there watching. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked thoroughly pissed off that the attack failed.’
‘And his close-protection guys didn’t intervene when this thing went down,’ Landers said, a soldier’s disgust tightening his voice.
‘I wouldn’t have expected them to – they had their job to do and I had mine.’ Landers still looked dubious, but didn’t outright contradict me.
‘You tread very carefully around Torquil Eisenberg, Charlie,’ Parker warned. ‘His father has all kinds of influence you do not want to tangle with.’
‘If an opportunity arises to ask him a few questions,’ I said, stubborn, ‘I’ll take it.’
Parker sighed. He moved forwards to rest his hands gently on my upper arms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Landers catch the gesture and snap his head away so fast he nearly ricked his neck in his efforts to see nothing untoward going on between us.
‘I trust your judgement, Charlie,’ Parker said at last. ‘Whatever decisions you make in the field, I’ll back them if I have to – you know that, don’t you?’
I was reminded sharply of another time, when Parker’s confidence in my judgement had been sadly lacking, to the point where he’d allowed me to undergo hostile interrogation at the hands of the security services. What had changed? And why?
Horribly aware of Landers’ presence, I forced myself to step back, forced a cool note of distance into my voice. ‘What a shame you didn’t always have such faith, Parker.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dina didn’t want to talk about what happened at the riding club in the period that followed. Instead, she wanted to talk about me.
Or rather, my relationship with my boss. Not an easy topic, because I had no idea about my feelings for Parker at that point.
It was two days since the ambush. Dina’s knee had recovered, thanks to three sessions with a remedial masseur who’d come out to the house and applied ultrasound and various other treatments at some ridiculous cost. All this for a minor injury that probably would have sorted itself, given rest and ice, within a couple of days anyway. What it was to be so pampered.
Dina had an ulterior motive for wanting to be fit, however, which was an upcoming charity auction and gala dinner. It seemed to be the focus of just about anybody who
The biggest surprise, as far as Dina was concerned, was the fact that Torquil Eisenberg had texted to see if she wanted to accompany him. After agonising over the brief wording, she sent a message of assent by the same means, and all the logistics of the exercise were sorted without the pair exchanging a spoken word. Dina seemed to think this was entirely normal. I felt very old.
So, this morning she decided she was feeling sufficiently recovered to hit the boutiques of Fifth Avenue. Caroline Willner graciously lent her personal driver to save the hassle of parking garages, but I relegated him to the passenger seat for the drive into Manhattan – a considerable blow to his ego, if his sniffy silence for the entire journey was anything to go by.
We crossed onto Manhattan Island via the Queens-Midtown Tunnel and I surrendered car keys to our mute chauffeur. After that, Dina and I trailed round countless stores while she added to her already bulging wardrobe.
When it came to clothing, she had variable taste, ranging from some items I thought looked great on her, to others that just didn’t work at all. I baulked at the point she started suggesting outfits for me, especially when I took a sneaky look at the price tags. You could have shifted the decimal points a place to the left and most of them would still have been too rich for my blood.
Eventually, we stopped for a late lunch at Brasserie Les Halles on Park Avenue South, and there she began her interrogation over casual Parisian food.
‘So, what is it with you and Parker Armstrong, huh?’
