Finders Keepers Edie Baylis (phonics readers .TXT) 📖

‘No I don’t, but he’s a bit of an odd ball too,’ she said, frowning. ‘Who did you say you were again?’

‘I didn’t,’ Heath muttered, walking past the woman back to his car.

If the police had finished at the house then didn’t that mean Teagan and Dulcie could return? Although perhaps Teagan’s services were no longer required? Perhaps the son was looking after the old woman himself, or he’d moved her into an old folks’ home?

Pulling open the door of the Lexus, Heath fished out his mobile and dialled Teagan’s number again.

SAUL GRUNTED, GRABBING the hips of the woman straddling him on the dressing room chair, his strong arms effortlessly forcing her to up the pace.

Slamming her onto him harder and harder, he closed his eyes in irritation as the petite blonde began making obligatory noises. ‘Shut it,’ he hissed.

He didn’t need her acting like she was enjoying herself to make him get off. She sounded like someone was half killing her and if anyone burst in and interrupted him from unloading into this silly cow, he’d go tits.

Finally feeling his climax building, Saul dug his fingers into the woman’s hips, and thrust with savage force; the back of the chair banging loudly against the mirrored counter. Gritting his teeth, he growled loudly from the back of his throat, before finally relaxing.

Catching his breath, he looked at the woman’s sweaty bleached hair stuck to her face and flinched as she placed her hand on his cheek. ‘You don’t need to paw me,’ he snarled, knocking her hand away.

‘Sorry, I...’

‘You said you wanted to see me?’ Keith said, walking into the dressing room. ‘Oh, sorry!’

‘It’s fine. We’re done.’ Without even looking at the woman on his lap, Saul roughly pushed her off, sending her sprawling to the floor.

Tucking himself back into his trousers, he stood up and glanced at the woman with disdain. ‘Cheers love, but can you fuck off and get your kit back on elsewhere? We’ve got business to discuss.’

Scrabbling around to gather her knickers and clothes, the woman pointlessly covered her modesty with the bunched up fabric and scuttled past Keith and Saul, red-faced.

As the door closed, Keith perched his big frame on the dressing table. ‘What’s up?’

Saul sparked up a cigarette and blew the smoke out towards the brightly illuminated mirror. ‘This guy – the one you were telling me about. The guy with the burner phone?’

‘Stoner Joe?’ Keith frowned. ‘What about him?’

Saul rolled down the sleeves of his white shirt, slotting the gold cufflinks into place. ‘I want you to touch base with him. Pay him a visit or call. I want the latest on the old witch. I want to know what the old girl’s plans are and see if the tart looking after her has said anything. She’s the stoner’s missus, isn’t she?’

‘That or an ex, who knows?’ Keith said. ‘Don’t think he does!’

Saul looked at Keith, his eyes cold. ‘Do it low key of course. You know the score.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And I don’t need to say that this is between me and you?’

Keith nodded. He understood completely. The meeting Jonah had called for the inner circle had come as a bit of a surprise in as much that Saul was willing to accept joint control of the firm. He’d been fully expecting a nightmarish showdown of power between the Powell brothers, but it all made sense now. Saul had his own agenda. ‘What about Nero? Is he in this too?’

Saul shook his head. ‘Fuck Nero! Let’s keep this just between us for now. Less hassle.’

‘I’m on it.’ Keith hurried out of the dressing room.

GWEN LOOKED AT THE EMPTY CHAIR at Lena’s desk and frowned. She’d hazard a guess where the girl had been for the last half an hour. The woman must be thicker than the average plank if she didn’t realise it was obvious that she’d sidled off to the toilets to shove powder up her nose, but let her carry on – the quicker the hole was dug, the better.

There wasn’t long to find something to catch Lena out on though. And it needed to be something set in stone, rather than speculation - enough to make Jonah cancel the wedding.

Gwen frowned. She was 99% certain that Lena wasn’t pregnant, but what if she was wrong? If the sneaky cow was truthfully carrying Jonah’s child, then she was turning a blind eye to the conniving tramp’s cocaine and vodka habit. If something happened to that baby because of Lena’s vices, Gwen knew her disbelief would not be an acceptable excuse for keeping her mouth shut.

Gwen glanced up at the door – no sign of Lena yet. Was there time to get another look through her phone to see if she’d had any further texts from that mysterious ‘UR’ person?

Deciding now was as a good a time as any, she pushed back her chair and hurried over to Lena’s desk, reaching for the over-sized Gucci bag on the floor. Opening the zipper, she peered inside. Damn, she’d taken her phone with her.

When the office door suddenly swung open, Gwen span around, stomach somersaulting, relieved to see it wasn’t Lena, but less relieved to see Saul instead.

Saul cocked an eyebrow, his gaze moving from Gwen to the large handbag. ‘Am I interrupting something?’

‘I thought I’d split coffee,’ Gwen blustered, hoping her cheeks weren’t as scarlet as they felt. She forced herself to smile. ‘Settling back in ok?’

Saul leant against Gwen’s desk, his blue eyes scrutinising her. ‘Yes, it’s good to be back on home turf again after so long.’ He smiled – a smile that didn’t extend to his eyes. ‘I know I saw you at the meeting earlier, but I thought I should come and say hello properly. You’ve been at this firm longer than I have and it’s been a long time since I saw you.’

Opening his arms wide, Gwen reluctantly stepped into Saul’s embrace,