Finders Keepers Edie Baylis (phonics readers .TXT) 📖

The silence weighed heavily and she gulped at her whisky for want of something to do. Like a trapped bird, she felt unable to leave the room with this man with the overwhelming presence, but equally felt unable to stay. Neither could she bring herself to refuse the top-up of whisky he offered her.

Teagan’s heart banged relentlessly, dreading further questions, along with the persistent nagging urge to ask this man how he’d killed his brother.

She knew Jonah was scrutinising her – she could feel it. He was most likely comparing her to how she’d looked when he’d first seen her. Did he think the same as Robert? That she’d enjoyed what Saul had done? Shame threatened to push her under, so she instead stared at Jonah’s hand on the bottle as he tipped more whisky into her glass. She concentrated on every single hair on the back of his hand and on the pronounced muscles of his forearm.

Did those hands strangle his own brother? Or drive a knife into him? Which?

She dare not raise her eyes because she sensed the moment she connected with Jonah’s gaze, he’d ask her something she didn’t want to answer. His eyes were... were too deep...

Finishing pouring her drink, Jonah topped up his own and moved to sit back down in his chair. Teagan fought within her mind for something to say. Her eyes tracked over to the framed photograph – the one of Jonah standing with the beautiful blonde, his hand resting around her tiny waist.

‘That’s a lovely picture. I take it that it was a professional photographer?’ Teagan inwardly cringed. What sort of rubbish was she saying? ‘I mean, it’s obviously a proper photographer.’ She laughed nervously. ‘Sorry...’ Oh God, shut up, Teagan! ‘Is that your wife?’

Jonah’s eyes moved to the photograph, his eyes narrowing menacingly. He’d asked Nero to get rid of anything of Lena’s, so how had that been missed? ‘That’s not my wife,’ he spat, venom sliding into his words.

Teagan’s mounting unease grew as Jonah tipped the entire glass of whisky into his mouth. Striding over to the photograph, he snatched it up and slung it viciously into the fireplace where the glass shattered into several pieces.

Teagan began to tremble. ‘Sorry... I...’ Why had she asked him that? She’d deduced earlier that he couldn’t be married after the comment Gwen made.

Immediately regretting unnerving the woman who had already been through far too much, Jonah smiled. ‘Forget it,’ he muttered. ‘It shouldn’t have still been in here.’ Snatching up the bottle, he refilled his glass once more.

MIKE LEANT BACK IN HIS SEAT, acting more laid back than he actually was. Days he’d been trying to get in touch with Heath and today he’d finally deemed it acceptable to bother making an appearance, yet only to say he was leaving the business in the lurch?

He wouldn’t give his son the satisfaction of knowing know how much his behaviour riled him, but he was disappointed. Really disappointed. Heath was losing the plot.

Heath glanced at his phone to make sure Dulcie hadn’t called. He wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone in case she wandered off or did something to mess up his plans, but she hadn’t called, which was good. As long as he made sure this was a fleeting visit and didn’t allow himself to be dragged into family arguments, then it would be fine. Correction – he wouldn’t be dragged into any arguments, nor would he get berated by his father. If he was quick, he’d escape the London traffic before it started stacking up and could be back in Maidenhead within the hour.

‘Exactly how long do you intend to continue this ridiculous charade before you accept it won’t work?’ Mike asked. Moving in with Dulcie Adams? Was the boy mad?

Heath grinned. ‘No longer than I have to, believe me!’ It was clear his father had no belief in his plan, but that was ok. If he didn’t want the gains at the end of it, that was fine. ‘How’s mum?’

‘She’s fine,’ Mike mumbled. ‘I won’t be telling her about your latest brainwave though!’

‘Being as you haven’t told her about anything else, that will hardly be anything new,’ Heath chided.

Mike sat forward, his calm act deteriorating. ‘You’ve got a nerve!’ he spat. ‘Deciding to bugger off from the family firm and then making comments?’

Heath laughed out loud. ‘The family firm?’ He made a big show of looking through the wide expanse of glass into the showroom. ‘Oh, you mean the one you’ve made such an effort to fill with customers? It was hard enough getting them in here in the first place, but the minute I’m not driving that, you’ve done nothing! There’s not a soul here.’

He picked up the sales receipt pad, flicked through it, then chucked it back on the desk. ‘Not one sale since I’ve been gone. What does that tell you? Have you even opened or did you just do so today being as you knew I was coming?’

Mike reddened, his anger rising. ‘You think you’re so bloody clever, don’t you?’

Heath raised an eyebrow. ‘Let’s put it this way, I have no intention of walking away from this empty handed.’

‘You’re a stupid fool!’ Mike spat.

Heath shrugged. ‘That’s your opinion. No doubt you’ll change your mind once everything comes to fruition.’

Mike snatched up the desk phone, glad for its interruption. ‘City Car Sales, Mike Pointer speaking...’

Heath rolled his eyes listening to his father putting on his telephone voice. He scraped his phone off the desk and shoved it back in his pocket. He needed to make tracks. There was no point hanging around – everything needing to be said, had been. At least he’d picked up his clothes and laptop from the flat on route, so he could head straight back up to Dulcie’s.

Seeing Heath get up from the chair, Mike indicated that he should wait. ‘2 o’clock on Friday? Yes, that’s fine. I’ll look forward to seeing