Embellished Deception: A Psychological Suspense Novel (The Crime Files) Page 4

  He smiled and shuffled his feet before nodding, "Afternoon." Then he scurried to the opposite side of the store.

  He walked up and down each aisle, keeping one eye on the checkout, and hovering about picking up random items from the shelves and fingering them with interest. At one point, a teenage boy smiled at him and raised his eyebrows, and James realised he was holding a large box of ribbed condoms. He hurriedly replaced them on the shelf and walked away.

  He was about to give up when he saw her heading to the checkout.

  Chapter 5

  After a quick shower, I walked to the village store. Once I'd checked out all the magazines and made my selection, I chose a couple of chocolate bars and headed to the checkout. As I was just about to pay I realised I'd forgotten Mum's Lucozade. I turned around and bumped into a great wall of a guy standing behind me.

  "Oops, sorry," I said.

  "That's okay, Geraldine."

  "Sorry?”

  "Yes, so you already said." He grinned at me, obviously enjoying my discomfort.

  "I meant, how do you know my name?"

  He laughed. "Don't you recognise me?"

  I didn't, but I wasn't going to admit it, considering he obviously knew me.

  "Oh hi, of course I do. How are you?" He was still blocking my way and I became aware of the effect his close proximity was having on my senses.

  "Not too bad I guess. All the better for bumping into you though."

  Jeez! How corny was that? I thought.

  The girl behind the counter cleared her throat, and we were both jolted back to the present.

  "Oh well, I'd best be off," I said. "Nice to see you." I weaved my way through the aisles until I found the soft drinks. But my heart was thumping a little bit faster than it had been earlier.

  On the way out of the store, I saw him standing by a dilapidated old Ford that was almost every colour of the rainbow. He looked up as I passed by.

  "Can I give you a lift?" he offered.

  "Oh no, that's okay, I need the exercise." I turned and started across the green.

  "Do you mind if I walk with you then?"

  "I um, erm no, of course not, but what about the car?" I awkwardly sidestepped up the hill towards my house.

  "It's not mine," he laughed, falling into step beside me.

  I shook my head, not really getting the random joke. His arm brushed against mine, and again I felt the hairs stand up all over my body with a kind of static energy that I'd never experienced before.

  "How's your mum doing?"

  "She's well, or should I say she was until last night, when she had a little bit too much to drink." I indicated the Lucozade.

  "And yours?" I thought it best that I continued the pretence. I knew it would end up biting me in the backside, but it happened much sooner than even I expected.

  "My mum died fifteen years ago, Geraldine. I was right, wasn't I? You don't have a clue who I am.” He had a raspy deep laugh that did something to me.

  "I, er, that is, you look familiar, but I can't place you. I am sorry about your mum though."

  "It's okay. Do you often let strangers latch on to you like that? You want to be careful. Have you any idea how dangerous that could be?"

  "I didn't want to hurt your feelings," I shrugged. "I didn't think it would hurt to let you tag along. I'm only going five minutes up the road."

  "It doesn't matter. You need to be more aware of the dangers—there's a lunatic out there."

  "You sound worse than my dad. Who are you anyway, the local detective?" As the words left my mouth, it suddenly dawned on me who he was. "Oh my God! It is, isn't it? James—James Dunn. I can't believe how much you've changed. You used to be so thin and weedy. Now look at you, you're huge."

  "No need to get personal, little lady." He laughed again, his chocolate brown eyes twinkling.

  "I don't mean fat. I just mean—massive! What happened?" I laughed, shaking my head.

  "I just grew up, Geraldine, and so did you." He looked me up and down appreciatively.

  I felt my cheeks burn.

  "I heard you’d married Simon Macintyre, lucky sod!"

  "Who, him or me?" I was blatantly flirting with him now, and it felt good.

  "Him, of course." He smiled again, and my stomach clenched.

  "Well, we're not together anymore, but I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it to yourself for now."

  "I'm sorry to hear that. I thought you guys were for keeps."

  "Me too, but there you go. Anyway how about you? Do you have a Mrs Dunn and a few baby Dunns on the scene?"

  He raised his gorgeous eyes to the sky. "Gosh, I wish. I haven't had the time or the inclination, to be honest with you. I tend to get bored too easily and anyway, the love of my life married somebody else, so it seems bachelorhood is my destiny."

  He stopped walking, and I realised we were at my parents’ cottage already.

  "Oh well, thanks for walking me home, James. It was nice to see you again after all this time."

  "And you too, Geraldine." He bent and kissed the top of my head, nothing romantic, more brotherly, but my stomach did another flip. He was so close I could smell his aftershave. All my senses felt wired.

  "Bye, James."

  "See you again, I hope." He turned and walked across the green without a backward glance.

  I had just hung my coat on the banister and kicked my shoes into the cubbyhole under the stairs, when a knock sounded at the door. I was surprised to see James standing on the doorstep with his sexy lopsided grin plastered to his face.

  "Oh, hello again," I said.

  "Do you want to go for a drink with me?" he blurted. "Tonight, or tomorrow. It's up to you."

  "I, er ..."

  "I'm sorry. Probably not eh? It's too soon after ..."

  "Yes. I'd love to." The words were out before I had a chance to think about it.

  "Oh, alright, erm, I mean great! Pick you up at eight then."

  He backed down the path looking uncomfortable and then made a hasty retreat across the green.

  I stood staring at his back until he was out of sight. Then I closed the door and sat on the bottom step for a second while I went over what had just happened in my mind.

  It was quite endearing to see him flustered after being so self-assured and confident not five minutes ago.

  Chapter 6

  "Here you go, Mum. This will make you feel better," I placed a glass of the magic brew beside her on the coffee table. She was still lying on the sofa and looked terrible.

  "You took your time," she snapped.

  I was taken aback by her change in attitude again. "I was as quick as I could be. Jeez, Mum. How about a bit of gratitude?"

  She sat up slightly and reached for the glass. After taking a long, slow swig she put the glass back down. "Who was at the door?"

  "James Dunn. I bumped into him at the shop. I didn't even recognise him—he's changed so much." I was almost bursting with excitement.

  "So that's what kept you. Reminiscing with an old flame while I lay here dying?"

  "You're hardly dying, Mum."

  "Anyway, do I have to remind you, you're a married woman? And before you spout all that crap about it being over, and mooning over other men, I think you need to wait. It's only been a couple of days."

  "Mother!" I cried. "I think last night's alcohol has fuddled your mind. Firstly, James Dunn was never an old flame. And secondly, I was not mooning over anybody. And finally, Simon and I are most definitely over. Is that clear?"

  She groaned and held her head. "Stop yelling, Geraldine."

  "Then stop bloody moaning. I'm sorry, Mum, but the sooner you get it through your head that Simon is history the better."

  I was pissed off that she'd put a dampener on my meeting with James. But she was right about one thing—I was mooning over him.

  I felt warm and dreamy when I thought about the huge, muscly man with the chocolate coloured eyes and full sexy lips. His dark brown-black, close-cropped curls, and
five o'clock shadow with two deep creases on each cheek when he smiled, made my stomach do a full-on somersault. He was not my usual type at all, but there was definitely something about him.

  Thankfully, James was the total opposite to Simon. Simon had gorgeous deep blue eyes and golden brown wavy hair, a smooth pale complexion and an average sized, slim build.

  I still felt numb when I thought about him. He had been my whole life up until a few days ago and then—bam! Everything had been blown to smithereens.

  I knew the reason he wanted to talk to me so desperately, he was afraid of me outing him. He'd even suggested I stay on at the house, and continue as normal, when I first found out. He said he could see no point in spoiling what we had.

  Of course, I was horrified. In other words, he wanted me to continue playing the dutiful wifey at home while he carried on with his boss, Kevin—who was also firmly in the closet with a string of ex-girlfriends to his name.

  But although I'd like nothing more than to tell the world, I had no intention of doing so. How could I tell everyone that, after six years married to me, my husband preferred men? My frail ego wouldn’t survive such a beating.

  So, no matter how much I hated it, the fact remained that I had to get on with my life. No matter how much I would prefer everything to go back to normal, I knew things wouldn’t be normal ever again.

  Simon would never stop wanting men and, although I had no doubt in my mind that he loved me, our marriage was well and truly over!

  Therefore, what difference did it make that I'd only just broken up with the only man I'd ever loved? I could see no point hanging around—I'd wasted enough time and besides, flirting never hurt anybody.

  "Right, Mum, I'll start lunch—what time’s Dad back?"

  "Anytime now. Don't you go making a mess in my kitchen."

  "Mother, I'm a grown woman and quite capable of making a couple of sandwiches and cleaning up after myself. What's the matter with you anyway? Do you have another migraine? Because you're being nasty again." It was hard work trying to keep up with her ever fluctuating moods.

  She sat up quickly, an angry look in her eyes, and then it was as though she thought better of it, and I watched as she visibly let it go.

  "Listen, why don't you go and have a shower? I'm sure you'll feel better." I said, softly.

  She nodded and slowly got to her feet, drank the last of the Lucozade and headed for the stairs.

  "Ham sandwiches and a nice pot of tea coming up—don't be too long," I called after her.

  By the time Dad arrived home lunch was prepared. Mum had showered and changed. She seemed much brighter although still very pale. She also seemed to be back to her normal nice self.

  After we had eaten, I headed into the garden to read my magazine. The sun felt quite warm, and I found myself a sheltered spot out of the breeze and rearranged the garden furniture to suit. I emptied the bag of items from the shop out onto the table: two magazines, a block of chocolate and a bottle of fizzy orange.

  I felt so much better today, especially after my encounter with dreamy Mr Dunn. I lifted my face towards the sun and closed my eyes.

  I don't know how long I sat like that for.

  I could hear the birds singing and bees buzzing. The neighbour's dog whined a few houses down, and I began to drift off.

  I was just thinking that my chocolate would be melting in the sunshine when I heard a strange sound. I strained my ears and heard it again. It sounded familiar and quite close. I opened one eye and almost jumped to my feet in surprise. A man sat next to me reading my magazine. The sound was him turning the pages.

  "What the hell?" I squealed.

  The guy casually looked up and drawled, "Oh hi, you must be Geraldine." He took an electronic cigarette from his lips and blew make believe smoke into the air. "Your mother told me I'd find you out here, but you seemed so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you."

  As he spoke, he continued to flick through the magazine.

  "Do you mind telling me who the hell you are, and please give that back. I haven't even read it yet!"

  "Woo-ooo, somebody's woken up in a bad mood," he said, rather irritatingly.

  "Let me introduce myself. My name is Carlos John Robertson the third." He stood up and took a bow. Then he lifted my hand and brushed the top of my fingers with his lips.

  I pulled my hand away sharply.

  "Okay, Carlos John Robertson the third. For your information I was not sleeping, and would you please tell me what the hell you're doing here?"

  "I came to tell you your car's fixed, and I brought it back for you—which I'm beginning to regret, I might add."

  "Ah, so you're Beryl's nephew. This is beginning to make sense now," I said.

  "And what's that supposed to mean? You could give a guy a complex, you know. "He inhaled deeply on his plastic ciggie. His pale blue eyes were smiling although he tried to put on a hurt face.

  "Sorry, I meant that I understand why Mum let you come through to the garden unchaperoned. You gave me quite a start, though."

  He sat back down again and smiled. "Well, the way I see it, you were going to have a shock either way. Especially if I'd been standing over you when you opened your eyes. So, I thought I'd glance at your magazine until you woke up. I won't tell you any of the Hollywood gossip, don't worry, considering you haven't read it yourself yet. Except to tell you Brad Pitt was ..."

  "Shhhhhh," I laughed. "I hate it when people do that." I poured myself a glass of orange juice. "Would you like some?"

  "No, thanks. I'd best be off. Here you are." He handed me my car keys and stood up to go.

  I also got to my feet. "How much do I owe you?"

  "Well, that's a tough one. We can discuss it later, over dinner."

  "Ha-ha, nice try but no, thank you. The bill, please." I held my hand out, and he took hold of my fingers and linked them into his arm.

  I pulled away. "You're quite pushy, aren’t you?”

  "Yep, I know. But I'm not taking no for an answer. Your mum told me you're alone tonight and she asked me to entertain you. I wanted to check you out first, in case you were some kind of minger."

  "How rude!" I exclaimed. "So I passed the inspection then?" I asked, shaking my head.

  "With flying colours, my dear."

  "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Carlos ..."

  "Carl, please."

  "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Carl, but I am not alone tonight after all. I'm meeting a friend for a drink, so I will sadly have to decline your offer."

  "Tomorrow night then, and I won't take no for an answer." With that, he was off up the garden. "I'll be here at seven o'clock—see you then," he called over his shoulder. He was gone before I had a chance to say anything else.

  Back inside, Mum had the radio on, and things had thankfully returned to normal.

  "Oh hi, darling. Did you see Carl? Wasn't that kind of him to drop the car off for you like that?"

  "Yes, I saw him. But I wish you'd shouted me instead of sending him out to the garden. I'd dozed off, and I felt a complete idiot, not to mention the fright I had."

  "Sorry, darling, I never thought. He's a nice boy though. I think you'll like him."

  I sat down on the couch with a flounce. "Oh, and thanks for trying to fix me up with him. It was only this morning you were having a fit at me for chatting with an old mate. Now look at you, playing Cupid. That Lucozade really does aid recovery, doesn't it."

  "Don't be silly, Geraldine. I thought you might want a bit of company, with me and Dad going dancing. He knows you're married."

  "Oki-doki, yes, that makes all the difference then, doesn't it? Anyway, I already have a date for tonight, so you won't have to worry your little head about me being lonely now, will you?"

  "Who with? Ah, let me take a guess. It's that James bloke, isn't it? I told you what I think about that, Geraldine. No good will come of this. You mark my words."

  ***

  A couple of hours later, I could hear Mum singing in
the bathroom. I found Dad downstairs watching the football highlights on the TV.

  "Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?" he asked.

  I kissed his closely shaved cheek, and snuggled up beside him on the sofa. He put his arm around me.

  "Boring. I need to sort myself out, Dad. I might have to look for a part-time job to get a bit of cash."

  "Have you spoken to Simon?"

  "No, I suppose I should call him, but I really have nothing to say."

  He hugged me tightly, and kissed the top of my head. "Is it really that bad, darling?"

  "Yes, it really is." I nodded.

  Mum walked down the stairs, and a lump formed in my throat. She looked so elegant. Her wine coloured, multi-layered skirt swished at her every move, and was complemented by a silky, white, capped-sleeve top and black sandals with one inch heels. Her slender figure would be the envy of women half her age. She draped a lacy scarf around her shoulders to complete the outfit.

  "Wow! Mum, you look lovely."

  "Not bad for an old timer, am I?" She preened.

  Dad's eyes lit up when he saw her. "As always, I'll be the envy of every man in the place, Grace. You look beautiful." He stood up and took her hand, bending in to kiss her neck.

  I felt a pang of envy mixed with pride over how much in love they still were after all these years.

  When I was young, I'd dreamed of finding true love like theirs. I honestly thought I'd come close with Simon. How wrong can a girl be? All I had to show for our marriage was a gnawing, empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Although, it was nothing like the immense heartbreak I'd envisaged it would be—maybe I hadn't truly loved him, after all.

  Yet I knew I did, I still loved him, but maybe I just wasn't in love with him.

  Chapter 7

  Once Mum and Dad had left, I ran straight up the stairs to prepare for my hot date with Mister-sexy pants-Dunn.

  After a long, hot shower I towelled myself dry and tried to avoid looking at my bare body in the full-length mirror. Only a woman with the trim figure of my mother would have a full-length mirror in the bathroom—the one place you had to get naked.