Passionate Vengeance (9 page)

“No, not really,” Abigail insisted. “I woke up from a nightmare, one involving Dr Harper. I knew there was something in it my subconscious was trying to remind me, but it took me a little bit to work out.”

Abigail glanced from Tristan to Kimber, to Lucas and back to Tristan again as she tried to explain and settle Tristan’s understandably ruffled feathers.

“He had a certificate of thanks hung up in his office. It was from the Highvale Nursing Home. It’s probably nothing at all, another dead end, but the certificate was in commemoration of ‘continual support’ which he’d given them.”

“Do you really remember that? Or has the dream twisted something to make it appear like that?” Tristan asked. His tone suggested curiosity, not disbelief.

“I know a certificate really was on his wall,” Abby replied firmly. “Whether it honestly said Highvale Nursing Home or not I can’t swear to. It’s been a while and I wasn’t making notes, so I can only work with what the memory of my dream was.”

“That’s fair enough,” Tristan replied. “So you’ve called around and confirmed this home exists?”

“Yep.” Abigail smiled and waved her ripped sheet of notebook paper.

“It’s a long shot, mate,” Lucas concluded. “Abby and I figured I’d call them, act like a patient—or more likely a colleague—who really needed to contact Harper and dig around for a further lead. If it had paid off I would have woken you then. I didn’t relish the thought of waking you before we knew if this would lead somewhere, especially when you and Kimber have barely had a couple of hours sleep. I also figured had the positions been reversed and you were chasing a very long shot by making a few calls you’d have not woken me, either.”

Tristan appeared struck by this thought. He chewed it over for a moment before agreeing.

“Fair point,” he conceded.

Abigail shot a look to Lucas, asking with her eyes if she should give him the number. Lucas tilted his head to Tristan and she nodded.

She held the slip of paper silently out to Tristan, who shook his head.

“No, this was your idea,” he said graciously. “Let Lucas finish it. He’s right, a few phone calls to follow a wild hunch is not something to get myself upset over. You both did the right thing in not sitting around letting it get cold. Besides, Kimber and I are here now, so we’re not missing out.”

Lucas took the number from Abigail’s fingers and sat on the edge of the desk she had been using. After pressing the numbers in quick succession, he turned to face the three of them as the phone rang.

“Yes, I’d like to speak to the nurse in charge of the shift please,” Lucas said into the phone. “Of course.”

Covering the mouthpiece, he mouthed, “On hold” to them. Abigail struggled to not wriggle with impatience. She felt deep in her gut as if they were close to tracking Dr Harper down now—she only hoped she hadn’t let her expectations and hopes blind her to the reality. 

Before she could really work herself up into a state over anything, Lucas snapped back to attention on the phone.

“Yes, madam, thank you for answering so promptly. I’m hoping this is a very simple question. I’m looking to get in touch with Dr Paul Harper. We’ve been working together on a project lately and he hasn’t answered my calls for most of the last week. I’ve made numerous calls to his home and work with no success. He’s mentioned in the past his great works with your home and I was hoping you might be able to assist me.”

Abigail leaned closer to hear the nurse’s side of the conversation as best she could. It wasn’t perfect, but she understood enough to follow.

“Yes, of course. Paul has been instrumental in assisting our residents with their…such a fine man. He was tireless in…with his mother, the Lord rest her soul. We haven’t seen…she passed away, oh it must be almost six months ago. He is supposed to come vaccinate the residents with their annual flu shots later in the week. I spoke to him only the other day…”

“Really, the other day, you say? How wonderful. And he is supposed to come by later in the week? I wonder if he’s made a firm commitment with you? An exact time and date? I would dearly love to catch up with him.”

At Lucas’ words Tristan stood straighter, an eager gleam in his eye. He reminded Abigail of a hawk who had spotted his prey but was as yet unable to make the kill, circling patiently but extremely aware of every nuance.

“Why no, I’m afraid he hasn’t.”

“Would you happen to have a number I could contact him on?” Lucas asked as he scrambled around the desk, picking up the summary sheet they’d been using. “I’m afraid the number I have doesn’t seem to be connecting.” Lucas recited the number they had for Harper’s home line, which was now tapped and appeared abandoned.

“Oh dear, that’s the number we…can’t think how we can contact him. Unless, well yes, he might be staying at his mother’s old house in Stockwell.”

“Stockwell?” Lucas repeated. Tristan snapped to attention, tossing Lucas a notebook and pen before crossing to the nearest desk. Bending over, he booted up the computer sitting there. Abigail continued to listen in on the phone conversation as Tristan typed in a series of commands on the computer.

“Why yes, actually it makes sense now, for…set up a lab there…years ago. Back when he grew up there it wasn’t such a good area, of course…glad he’d held onto it for with the basement lab it’s worth quite a pretty penny nowadays. He told me…the flu shots and that he should be ready with them by the end of the week and I told him… So that must be where he’s gone off to.”

“I don’t suppose you’d have the address or phone number of his mother’s old house would you? It would really be perfect if I could call him so we could wrap this project up.”

“I’m sure I have it around here somewhere, let me just…”

Lucas wrote in the notebook, Abigail reading the address and phone number with a growing sense of excitement. Lucas caught her gaze and returned it with a satisfied smirk when he’d finished, passing her the pad and indicating with a tilt of his chin to pass it over to Tristan. She got up and walked the notebook to him.

Tristan had opened a few tabs full of different search engines and logged onto his internal email. Already he had typed up a brief summary to be sent to Preston Jones, presumably before they left. Tristan acknowledged the data with a silent nod, speedily typing it into the text of the email with an update of what they had discovered and the process they’d followed to retrieve it.

“You’ve been a marvellous help, Henriette, thank you so much,” Lucas said before he hung up the phone. “You emailing Jones?” Lucas asked.

“Yep, right now. Do you want to call and leave a message that we’ll be taking a kit each and a pool car? The guys down in the equipment store get twitchy when people just lift their gear without letting them know,” Tristan said while typing on the keyboard.

“I need another clip of ammo and I’ve left my cuffs at my flat,” Lucas said. “Otherwise I should be all right with what I have in my duffel. You?”

“I never leave my cuffs at my place,” Tristan replied with a grin. “I don’t want to know why you took yours home with you.”

“Hey, none of that!” Lucas snapped though there was no real heat to his tone. Tristan cast a quick look of apology towards Abigail and changed the topic.

“Make sure you get a car that we can contain him in. One of us will drive and the other can sit in back with him when we return and—”

“Hang on, we’re coming too, right?” Kimber interrupted for the first time, a frown gathering on her brow. The blonde looked to Abigail for support and received it.

“Absolutely. It was my dream—or idea at least—that got us here. I don’t want to sit here twiddling my thumbs waiting for you manly men to bring the bad bloke home. That’s not at all fair,” she replied firmly.

“And you’d be absolutely nowhere on these vaccines nor have found Abigail in the first place without me,” Kimber added.

Tristan and Lucas exchanged speaking glances.

“Hey.” Abigail nudged Lucas. “Don’t do that.”

“Tristan, I really think that—” Kimber talked softly to Tristan.

Abigail used the opportunity to take a moment with Lucas semi-privately.

“You really can’t be serious,” she said in a low tone, but the weight of her frustration could be heard.

Lucas looked uncomfortable as they turned fully towards each other. “I don’t like the thought of you being in danger, Abby,” he confessed. “This could backfire—an assault on his home! I couldn’t live with myself if you were hurt. You’ve been through enough, darling.”

Much of Abigail’s anger melted at his words, but she remained firm.

“It’s my decision whether I put myself in danger, Lucas,” she sighed. “I love it that you want to protect me, and I get thrills just from the obvious ways you show how much you care about me. But I need to see this through to the end. I want to be there when you and Tristan arrest his arse and throw him unwillingly in the back seat of your car.”

“Justice?” Lucas guessed.

“And vengeance,” she admitted a little sheepishly. “The mental picture of him being carted away goes a long way to soothing my hurt and upset at what he put me through. It doesn’t take it away or make it better, but it certainly helps.”

Lucas studied her for a moment and she met his gaze as calmly as she could manage. She refused to resort to threats or ultimatums, they would only antagonise him and belittle what she felt was her genuine right to be present.

Sure, she had read the address and knew roughly where it was. Five minutes with a map and she could drive herself there. But that would be deceitful and worse, it would effectively force Lucas’ hand. Abigail wanted him to come to the decision himself, not because she bullied him into it.

“…you know I’m right.” Abigail heard Kimber finish passionately.

Tristan sighed.

The two agents exchanged another look.

“They could take a separate car,” Lucas suggested, whether to his partner or Abigail she didn’t know.

“We could still take him into custody and drive him back safely, the girls can watch from outside, out of danger,” Tristan seemed to agree reluctantly.

“Would that be a fair compromise?” Lucas asked with a brief glance towards Kimber.

She felt a weight in his glance as his eyes settled back on her. Lucas waited for Abigail’s response. She thought for a second before agreeing. It did seem like a fair middle ground to her. She’d still be able to watch and see for herself Harper being stopped, but she knew Lucas would be more at ease with her out of the way of immediate danger.

“I’m happy with that,” she replied. She turned and glanced at Kimber, who nodded her assent.

Tristan picked up the phone and dialled a few digits.

“Let me organise the cars, then we can get our kits,” he said. “I want to get this done as soon as possible. The later into the morning we leave it the higher the chance he’ll have a chance to escape.”

“I need you to swear to me you’ll stay well back,” Lucas said as he wrapped Abigail up in a tight hug.

She pulled him close, settling her arms around his slender waist easily, as if they had been doing this for years and not a few days.

“I’m not looking for trouble here,” she said, the sound muffled into the warmth of his chest. “You’re the hero. I haven’t forgotten that at all. I am more than prepared to sit back and just watch the show. I’m not looking for glory. I just want to see Dr Harper brought in. I promise.”

“Part of me worries I won’t be able to focus with you there, Abby. The thought of you in danger, or possibly being hurt, it messes with my head.”

She lifted her gaze and caught his burning look. Rising onto tiptoes she steadied herself with a hand to his arm. Abigail kissed Lucas hard, a promise embedded in the affection.

“I’ll stay out on the footpath, well out of the way of trouble. Don’t worry about me, please. I’d hate to think you were focused on me and not Harper and the job you were doing.”

Lucas rubbed his hand up and down her back. Love rose in her chest for this man. Even when he was annoyed or frustrated, he still showed her in many little ways how deeply he cared. Tingles shivered over her skin at the contact.

“How about we have a late breakfast—or possibly lunch—at my place after this is all over?” she offered.

Lucas grinned, clearly pleased with the idea.

“What? Like a real date or something? Would we even know what to do?”

“We can muddle through it, I’m sure,” she said, then laughed a little nervously. The mood lightened, and with a final, gentle squeeze they separated once again.

Tristan whispered a few more words to Kimber and kissed her forehead. With a tilt of his head Tristan indicated for Lucas to follow him.

“Let’s go and get our kits organised. Kimber, you and Abby can go and pick up the keys to the cars from the equipment area and meet us back here. We shouldn’t be too long.”

An edgy kind of excitement rolled in her stomach. She would not have missed this for anything, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she felt grateful she’d merely be a bystander and Lucas would be the one with the difficult task of bringing Harper in.

She prayed it would all go smoothly.

* * * *

Abigail’s phone rang, startling her as Kimber drove.

“Is that the blokes?” Kimber asked when she glanced away from the road.

“I have no idea,” Abby replied, curious.

They’d been following Tristan and Lucas only for about five minutes and still had them in sight. She couldn’t think of a reason for them to be calling at this early stage.

“Maybe they forgot something and needed to turn around?” Kimber postulated.

Abigail wriggled in her seat, the belt restricting her movements and making digging the phone out of her pocket difficult.

“I’d have thought they’d just turn around if that was the case.” Abigail grunted as she got a grip on the small mobile and tugged it free. “We’re following them, after all. If they—oh, I don’t recognise the number.”

Curious and only a little nervous she pressed the ‘receive’ button.

“Hello?”

“Yes, I’d like to speak to Miss Abigail Turner, please, it’s Dr Morrison.”