The Hard Way Duncan Brockwell (romance book recommendations .TXT) 📖

Hayes opened the restroom door to find the young receptionist crying, sat on a toilet in a cubicle with the door open. “Knock, knock. Do you mind if I come in?” She pulled a roll of toilet paper, broke the link and handed it to the teary-eyed girl. “Here.”

“They’re lying. He didn’t do any of those things. I know he didn’t.”

“I don’t believe it either,” she replied, stroking the girl’s hair. “I met him the other day, and he didn’t strike me as the type.”

“He’s not. He’s kind and gentle, not like they’re trying to make out.”

This wasn’t a girl crying over her boss; she was crying for a much more personal reason. “But then again, can you ever truly know someone?” And her comment raised the girl’s mascara surrounded stare. “I’m not saying anything here.”

Standing abruptly, the receptionist stormed over to the sink. “What would you know? Richard wouldn’t do those things they’re saying. He’s a lovely man, perfect. He’s smart, funny, kind and generous.”

“And you love him, right?” Hayes stood behind the girl, staring at her in the mirror on the wall above the sink. “Does he love you?”

“He says he does, although he’s been preoccupied recently, what with the press conference coming up on Friday. He says he’ll find time for me when the product’s out.”

Acting nonchalant, Hayes asked, “What product’s that? It sounds important.”

“Oh, it is. Groundbreaking, he says. Richard told me it’s so environmentally important that we’ll soon have every car manufacturer and consumer coming directly to us. He says Fisher Valves will be bigger than British Steel, in its day.”

“I don’t doubt it. Richard’s a clever man.” But she was no nearer knowing what the product was. “So, are you going to tell me what this magical product is?”

“Oh, I don’t know that. His team in the workshop never come here. I asked Richard once, but he wouldn’t tell me. He was due to give us a glimpse on Thursday. But I guess that’s not happening now, not if he’s in prison.” She burst into tears again.

After calming the youngster, she helped her back to her desk. Hayes signalled for Miller to meet her at the door. “We’re on our way over to the workshop now. Are you sure you’re going to be all right here?” Given the green light, she marched over to Miller, rushed through the glass door and marched up to their waiting Peugeot. “This is about something Richard’s working on. He’s due to go public with some groundbreaking new product, something that will make Fisher Valves, and I quote, ‘bigger than British Steel’.”

Miller sat in the passenger seat beside her, closed the door and clipped her seat belt in place. “So, what’s the product?”

“The receptionist’s sleeping with Fisher. Even she doesn’t know.” Hayes started the car and reversed out of the space, turned and drove to the main road. “Whatever it is, though, it’s big enough to murder for.”

“You think this product’s the link?”

Turning onto the main road, she sped up. “It was something in the way that she spoke about the product, like it was the next big thing, going to make the company billions or something. I’m willing to bet that when we find out what the product is, it’ll explain these murders. Although I can’t see how two radio presenters and a producer link to it.”

Miller regarded her. “Are you still thinking Melodi Demirci’s behind this?”

Hayes glanced over at her before turning her attention back to driving. “I don’t know. We have to find the link between Colin Fisher, Henry Curtis, and Richard’s employee, the one in that collision.”

“You think he was murdered now?”

“This is all linked somehow, I know it is. I think the suspect murdered Colin Fisher, Brandy Reid, and Kurt Austin together to throw us off course.” Her partner nodded. “Then, they went for Henry.”

“And? Why?” Miller waited for her response.

“I don’t know. I’ve no idea why they would murder Henry Curtis. If they ran Richard’s employee off the road, it was to silence him because he worked on the product. Which would mean the rest of Richard’s staff at the workshop are in danger. We need to find them before it’s too late.”

46

Charlotte finished her run on the treadmill, sweat dripping down her cheeks. Picking up her towel, she wiped her face, before sitting on the rowing machine. Rowing was the most laborious part of her ritual morning workout, but the gains were immeasurable. Next to swimming, she believed rowing was the best form of exercise: low impact and heart rate increasing. “Here we go!”

She leaned forward, took hold of the handle, and pulled back, the front wheel acting as a fan spinning away. After ten, or maybe eleven pulls she heard her mobile bleep, signalling she had a text. It could wait until she completed her workout.

Still mad at Richard, she had mulled over their row for days. He was such a pig sometimes, she wondered how they were related. How were Richard and Colin related, for that matter?

For the whole weekend she tried to get hold of Richard, wondering what he meant by it wasn’t safe to be at the workshop. He told her he would call, but he didn’t. Every time she phoned him, it went straight to voicemail. Richard must have known his actions would freak her out.

When she told Sam what happened at Richard’s workshop, and about the van following her, he thought she was joking. And now that she had not seen a transit van all weekend, she wondered if it was just a coincidence. Maybe it wasn’t one of the two vans she passed down the road from Richard’s place?

After five kilometres on the rowing machine, she stopped, replaced the handle, feeling the wind in her face die down. Even the fan didn’t stop her sweating. Standing, she dried her face for the third time, then walked over to the windowsill where her phone lay.

“Now you want to talk?” Seeing her brother’s