Bet Your Life (31 page)

“Well, you didn’t miss it. And here I am.”

“Yes, you are.” Dan got off the windowsill. “I’m not finished with you, Jess. I want to talk to you about Harry again later. See if you can remember anything at all that might be useful.”

“I will.” I watched him walk toward the door and felt uneasy. “Are you going to talk to Seb?”

“Yeah. Later on. His doctor told me to give him as much time as I could to recover. I can’t really tell him it’s urgent given that the main suspect is dead.”

I refrained from pointing out that Dan had never really acted as if it was all that urgent to find out what had happened to Seb. Then again, his mind had been on other things.

As if he’d heard what I was thinking, Dan stopped at the door and looked at Mum. “Has your ex-husband been in yet? I thought I’d find him here.”

“He’s coming in later.” She didn’t look as if the idea made her particularly happy.

“What day is it?” I asked, suddenly suspicious. “Thursday? Isn’t he supposed to be going back to London?”

Tilly sniffed. “No one’s told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Told her what?” Dan demanded from his position by the door.

“He’s staying in Port Sentinel. He’s going to start up his business here. He says there are great opportunities here for him—people who can afford to pay for his advice.” Mum looked at me and shrugged. “We made living here look like too much fun, I suppose.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said softly. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he wants to. Because he can,” Tilly said. The only person who looked even less enthusiastic than her was Dan.

“This town has enough problems without adding Christopher Tennant to the list.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said, and again had the unsettling experience of getting a proper smile from Dan Henderson and, stranger still, liking it.

22

Inevitably, Dad turned up at the hospital at completely the wrong moment. His instinct for being where he wasn’t wanted amounted to a gift. I had been packing my things, hoping to encourage the doctors to get a move on with giving me permission to go, when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Ryan leaned round it. “Are you sure? It’s me.”

“Especially if it’s you. I thought it was going to be an annoying nurse.”

He came all the way in, looking tall and stunningly handsome in a blue polo shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. “I thought you’d be in bed.”

I grinned. “So you dashed here as quickly as you could.”

“Any excuse.” He stayed on the other side of the room and shoved his hands in his pockets, as if he was making doubly sure he wasn’t tempted to try to touch me. “Seriously, shouldn’t you be sitting down or something?”

“I feel fine.” I paused to cough theatrically. When I could speak I said, “I just do that every so often. No big deal.”

“You nearly died but it’s no big deal.”

“
Nearly
is the important part.” I concentrated on folding a top Ella had brought in for me. “Thanks for trying to find me. I hear you were part of the search party.”

“I’d never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you.”

“I don’t know why.” I was irritated in spite of myself. “It wasn’t your responsibility to keep me safe.”

“You didn’t really give me a chance to try.”

“I didn’t know I was going to need rescuing. If I’d been calling for help, you’d have been on the list.”

“That’s something, I suppose.” There was a bitter edge to his voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I’m just not that person.”

“Which person?”

“The girl who needs looking after. You want someone who’ll depend on you, who’ll need you, and that’s not me.”

“You’re wrong. I like that you’re independent.”

“It drives you mad.”

“You do drive me mad. Completely.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but the way he was looking at me … I felt a tiny shiver race over my skin. My brain was telling me to make a joke, to put him off, to change the subject and the mood, but my body was all about Ryan and whether I could get him to come a little closer.

Which was confusing. Because, after all, there was Will.

What I was thinking must have shown on my face, because he moved toward me. “Jess—”

“Jessica?” Dad breezed in without knocking. Seeing Ryan, he stopped. “Oh. Am I interrupting?”

“Dad, this is Ryan. Ryan, my dad.”

Ryan shook hands with him. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Sir
. I could see from the look on Dad’s face that he loved it. Was it possible for Ryan to be any more perfect?

“I just wanted to see if Jess was OK. I’ll go,” Ryan said, heading for the door.

“I don’t want to get in the way.” Dad was smirking. “I’m sure Jessica would much rather talk to you any day.”

“I’d rather talk to anyone, actually. Up to and including any serial killers or dictators you can think of.”

“Childish of you.” Dad’s face had gone tight with anger but he managed to smile. “Jessica and I have a relationship based on banter. You mustn’t take her seriously.”

Ryan looked at me, trying to work out what was going on.

“Banter? That’s one word for it.” I zipped my bag closed and dumped it on the floor. “Thanks for coming, Ryan.”

“Give me a call.”

“I will,” I promised. I would too, even if it was just to explain why I was so hostile to my dad. It would be better to keep Ryan at the other end of a phone call, I thought. Face-to-face contact with him was getting to be distinctly risky. The more I saw of him, the more I liked him. I’d have wanted to see a lot more of him if I hadn’t been worried about leading him on. I’d come perilously close to that already.

Ryan nodded to me, said good-bye to Dad and left.

Dad turned to me with a wide grin. “He seems like a nice boy.”

“He’s OK.”

“Why don’t you go out with him?”

“Why don’t you stay out of it?” I took a moment to breathe. “Mum said you’re staying in Port Sentinel.”

“That’s right.”

“You hate it here.”

“It’s full of potential clients.”

“And Mum’s here.”

“And Molly is here.”

I was so angry, I felt as if I was choking. I managed to keep my voice level. “Do you know what I don’t get? What makes you think she would be interested in picking up where you left off?”

“I won her once. I took her away from here, even though she was in love with Dan Henderson.” Dad shrugged. “I think I can do it again.”

“But why?”

“Because I love her. And I don’t like losing.”

I discounted the first sentence, but the second part had the ring of truth to it. “This isn’t a game. She’s not your prize.”

“She’s my wife.”

“She was. You got divorced.” I shook my head. “I don’t know why you don’t get this.”

“Where is she, anyway?” Dad looked around as if she might have been hiding behind the door or in a cupboard all along.

“She’s not here. And you’ve done your loving-father bit. I’m alive. You’ve seen me to check I’m all right. You’ve ticked that box. You can go.”

“What about telling you off and warning you not to do it again?”

“I’ll take it as read.”

Instead of leaving, he sat down in the armchair by the bed. “I think I’ll wait here for your mother.”

“In that case, I’ll go.” I walked out, leaving him and all my things behind, and bumped straight into Dan Henderson just outside the door.

“What do you want?” I snarled.

Dan looked surprised, but then his face settled back into his usual expression: cold disapproval. “I wanted to talk to you in private, without an audience of family and friends.”

“About what?” I was standing with my back to the door and he leaned round me to turn the handle. “Don’t go in there,” I warned.

“Why not?”

“Dad’s in there.”

Dan’s expression darkened. “So he’s turned up at last, has he?”

“And I wish he hadn’t bothered.” I looked down the hall. “Isn’t there an empty waiting room somewhere we could borrow?”

“Yeah. This way.”

I think Dan was surprised I was willing to talk to him, but I had questions of my own for him.

He didn’t waste any time once he’d shut the door to the small, airless room he’d found. He stayed standing but I curled up on a chair. I wasn’t feeling all that great, truth be told.

“Did something happen to you yesterday, Jess?”

“You mean apart from being drugged and smoke-damaged? I don’t think so.”

“But you don’t know.”

“I don’t know.”

Dan swore under his breath. He took a turn around the room, pacing like a big cat in a cage. “Can I take the clothes you were wearing for forensic analysis?”

“Why? What good would it do?”

“It could prove what happened, either way.”

“I’d rather not know,” I said, and meant it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. Anyway, I’m almost sure he didn’t do anything. He had all that fire-setting and packing to get on with.”

“I didn’t handle this case very well,” Dan said. I stared up at him, surprised into silence. The next thing he said was much more in character. “But you should have stayed out of it.”

“Harry would have got away with it,” I pointed out. “He’d be choosing his next victim. And Guy would be looking at prison.”

“He’d have got a slap on the wrist. He’d have pleaded guilty to assault for the fight, and everything else would have been brushed under the carpet.”

“Why? Why would you want to hang everything on Guy? What did he do to you?”

“Nothing.” Dan sat down. “I wanted to protect Lily Mancini. You know she came to see me to make a complaint against Seb Dawson. I told her to forget about it.”

“Why didn’t you just investigate what she told you?”

“There was no evidence. She’d have been destroyed in a trial. It would have done more harm than good.”

“So you thought she’d taken matters into her own hands.”

“I assumed that, yes.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Look, Jess, I don’t expect you to understand but I don’t like seeing young girls like you and Lily get hurt. I wanted to help her. I want to help you.”

“You were afraid you’d get in trouble for not taking Lily seriously when she made the original complaint. And then Mrs. Dawson discouraged you from investigating what really happened, which suited you fine.”

“She wanted to protect her husband from finding out what Seb is really like.”

“That’s truer than you know.”

Dan tilted his head to one side. “What does that mean?”

“Forget it.”

“Still keeping secrets.”

“This one isn’t mine to share.” I stood up. “Is that everything?”

“Pretty much.”

“Can I go?”

“Be my guest.”

I hesitated. “Mr. Henderson … please don’t tell anyone about Harry and what he might have done.”

“I won’t.”

“Anyone. Especially not Mum.”

“I promise.”

“Or Will.”

He looked at me for what seemed like a long time before he nodded. I was expecting another lecture on keeping away from Will, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe he felt he’d made his feelings clear already. Or maybe he’d realized there was no point in trying to tell me what to do.

I left him there and risked going back to my room, where I found Dad had got bored and gone home, as I had expected. I decided not to tell Mum he’d been there.
Dad who?
was what I was going for from now on. It came to something when I would willingly have a tête-à-tête with Dan instead of spending time with my own father. Irritating though he was, I’d still choose Dan, every time.

I just hoped Mum didn’t have to make that choice any time soon.

*   *   *

Later that day, I padded along the corridor in search of room 322. It was the private room where Seb Dawson was recuperating now that he was well enough to leave intensive care. I was packed and ready to go but I’d told Mum I had one last thing to do before we left the hospital.

“What sort of one last thing?” She pushed her hair back off her forehead. “Be specific.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Frankly, no.” It was weird. One minute we were having our usual sort of conversation, bickering a little but generally cheerful. The next, Mum’s face was streaked with tears. “I worry about you, Jess. You think you know what you’re doing. You think you don’t need any help from anyone. Sometimes it’s a sign of strength to admit you need a hand.”

“I know that.”

“And I know you think I’m hopeless, but I might actually be able to help now and then.”

“Not with this,” I said and patted her knee. “But with other things, definitely.”

“It breaks my heart that you think you have to look after me. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.”

“Look, Mum, I just want to go and see Seb, to wish him all the best with his recovery.”

“I didn’t even know you were friends with him. I am so out of touch with your life. I’m such a bad mother.”

“Not really.” Now I felt bad. “I only know him from school. But since we’re in the same building and he’s awake, I thought I might as well go and see him. You know how boring hospital is.”

Mum nodded. “Off you go. I’ll see you downstairs in reception. Don’t be long.”

I was doing fine until I bumped into Seb’s dad coming out of his room. He looked so much more cheerful than the last time I’d seen him that I almost didn’t recognize him, but he spotted me.

“Jess! I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Is he awake?”
Has he said anything about not having a girlfriend?

“He’s sitting up.” Seb’s dad rubbed his chin. “You know, he’s probably still a bit confused. The reason we haven’t been in touch to get you to come and see him is because he hasn’t asked for you, I’m afraid. We should have reminded him, but—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Weak with relief, I added, “You know what Seb’s like. Always keeps his private life to himself.”

“Yes, he does.” Mr. Dawson beamed down at me. “Do you want to go in and see him?”

“Just for a minute…” I hesitated. “Is he on his own?”

“Stephanie is in there. Send her out, though. Don’t take no for an answer.”