Chapter Four

Darien

The week had been a busy one, with little time to contemplate the intricacies of my recently inherited client, or to do the intended research about the case I’d wanted to. Tuesday had rolled around before I knew it, and now here I was, sitting outside The Scrubs and waiting for the man himself to appear, more nervous than before my date with Emily. Which was ridiculous. But then I didn’t know which Felix I’d get. The angry one who glared daggers at me? Or the flirtatious one who made me feel things I shouldn’t feel?

Needing to stretch my legs, I climbed out of the Toyota and leaned against the side of it, tipping my face up to the sun and enjoying the warmth of it. I got roughly ten seconds of all being right with the world before the sun disappeared behind a cloud and my phone started ringing.

“Oliver’s asleep,” Katherine whispered as I answered .

“And you figured that was big enough news that you had to call and tell me.”

She laughed. “No, of course not. I wanted to see how things were going with Felix?”

“He liked you,” I said truthfully. “He was disappointed you’d no longer be his PO.”

“He said that?”

“Of course not. You’ve met him. Half of what he says is about getting a rise out of you and nothing else.”

“Half? More like three-quarters.”

“True.”

“And what about you? Did he get under your skin?”

“Of course not,” I lied. “I’ve dealt with far trickier people than Felix Church.”

“Who?”

In a moment of perfect timing, the side gate opened, the man himself ushered out by a prison guard. There was no touching moment of farewell, the guard withdrawing immediately to leave Felix looking… Well, somewhat lost and alone, if I was honest. “I’ve got to go. They’ve just released him.”

I didn’t wait for Katherine to say anything before hanging up. No doubt she’d have had something to say about me being a glorified taxi service, but we all had our preferences for how we dealt with clients, and this was one of mine. And changing my usual procedure for Felix would have been an admittance of defeat.

The sun chose that moment to come back out from behind a cloud, Felix lifting his hand to shade his eyes as he squinted in my direction. I suddenly felt awkward, like I didn’t know whether to stand taller or slouch down more, neither action seeming the right one .

The space between us gave me a chance to study him as he strode my way. I’d been wrong about him looking good in prison clothes. He looked far better in jeans and a black jacket, the tightness of the jacket across his shoulders reflecting the extra bulk he’d added during his time in prison. I immediately chided myself for noticing. I needed to get it in my head that no matter how flirtatious Felix might be, that he was so far off limits he may as well be in space.

“You came,” he said as he halted in front of me. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I came,” I echoed. “I said I would, and I did.” I levered myself away from the Toyota and climbed into the driver’s seat, waiting for Felix to join me in the passenger seat before starting the engine. The car suddenly felt far too small, and Felix too close. I did what I always did when nerves got the better of me: I talked. “I’ve been waiting outside for about twenty minutes. I didn’t want to risk getting caught in traffic and being late. You’d think I’d know by now that they’re never on time with getting the release sorted.”

“And I thought it was just me they left sat in my cell twiddling my thumbs.”

I laughed. “No, not just you. It’s a common occurrence. If I had a pound for every time a client’s released on time, I doubt I’d have enough for a coffee.”

Felix turned his head to stare out of the window as we drove down the busy high street and I left him to it. It was the same for every client who’d been inside for any length of time, that culture shock of seeing everything they’d missed out on for the first time. And I could only imagine how much more intense that would be after seven years, rather than just a couple. Felix had a lot of things to get used to, my usual empathy kicking in.

“So many people,” he said .

“Well, it is London. You want fewer people, you need to live in the Outer Hebrides or something. But not while you’re on parole. I’m not driving to Scotland for meetings.”

We lapsed back into silence, Felix’s study of everything outside the window so fastidious that if there was a test on it later, he’d probably ace it. “How far to Benedict House?” he finally asked, without turning my way.

I frowned. “I’m not taking you there. Your mum finally got in touch and okayed you staying with her.”

Felix’s head whipped round so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t give himself whiplash. “She did?”

“You didn’t know?” He shook his head, something about his expression making me think there was more emotion beneath the surface than he was letting on, and that his insistence in our first meeting of her coming through for him had been mostly bluster. “She called the office a couple of days ago. She apologized for not getting in touch sooner, but said she’d been busy.”

“You spoke to her?”

There was no missing the edge in Felix’s voice, something about the idea not sitting comfortably with him. “Not personally, no. Someone else spoke to her and passed a message on. You don’t think that was the reason?”

“I never said that!”

I cursed myself for making the shutters come down. The last thing I wanted was to bring out the combative Felix, especially within the confines of my car. “Anyway,” I said breezily. “That’s good news, right? I’d assume it’s a far nicer place to live. I know you were never keen on the idea of staying at Benedict House.”

“Do you blame me? ”

It was a loaded question. The honest answer was no, but that was hardly a glowing recommendation for the rehabilitation system that I was a part of. Saying yes, though, would be an out and out lie. “No,” I eventually admitted after too long of a pause. “I don’t blame you. Not if there’s a better option.”

To give Felix his due, he didn’t call me on it, just accepting what I’d said without comment.

I spent the rest of the journey going through when I needed to meet with him and my expectations for how things would go in the first few weeks. Felix was far easier to talk to when I had an excuse not to look at him. He wasn’t particularly forthcoming, the conversation mostly one-sided with the occasional grunt from him.

When we drew up in front of his mother’s address in Hampstead, I was surprised. I’d expected a house split into separate flats, but it was a single residence. A property like this so close to Hampstead Heath would cost millions. Had I cocked up and put the wrong postcode in the sat-nav? “This is where your mother lives?”

Felix turned cool gray eyes on me, and I was struck anew by how pretty they were. They were ringed by dark lashes that any woman would have been envious of. Hell, I was envious, and I was a guy. “What? Do you think every convicted criminal should come from poverty?”

“No, of course not. But this is a long way from poverty.” About as far as you could get. Only a stately home could have cost more.

“My father had shares in oil. He’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Felix didn’t respond. He didn’t make any move to get out of the car, either. For someone who’d been adamant he’d be staying here, he didn’t seem keen to get on with doing that.

“Is your mother at home?” I asked .

Felix continued to stare at the house. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have a key if she’s not?”

“No.”

His voice was flat, but I sensed a tsunami of emotion floating beneath the surface. “If she’s not here, how are you going to get in?”

“I’ll break in.” Felix left a long pause before shooting me a sly look. “I’m joking, of course.”

“I knew that. You weren’t inside for breaking and entering.”

“No, I was inside for murder. Maybe I should just murder the neighbors and take over their house instead.”

“Accessory to murder,” I said absently, most of my attention on the house.

Felix didn’t need to say anything about the correction for me to sense it pleased him as he climbed out of the car. I guess if it was me, I’d appreciate the distinction as well. When I joined him on the pavement, he frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I need to come in with you.”

“Why?”

“Because the arrangements were too last-minute for me to carry out a home visit prior to your release. I need to check it’s a suitable place for you to live. I would have got someone else to do it, but I got badly burned on that in the past, so I do it myself wherever possible.”

Felix started toward the house, and I fell into step beside him. “What would make it unsuitable?” he asked.

“Cannabis farm in the attic. Someone tied up in the cellar. Base for a money laundering operation. You know, that sort of thing.”

“That sort of thing,” he said drolly. “I dare you to ask my mother those sorts of questions and see how she responds to them.”

“I’m not that brave. ”

There was a moment of awkwardness when we reached the front door, Felix not seeming to know whether to try the handle and walk in if it was unlocked, or knock. In the end, he settled for the latter, raising his fist and rapping on the glass. I hung back a few steps, figuring the least I could do was not put myself front and center for the emotional mother and son reunion.

There was a moment where it looked like no one was in before a figure appeared behind the textured glass. The door opened slowly to reveal a woman with impeccable hair and make-up who looked to be in her late forties. If she was Felix’s mother, mathematics and common sense said that wasn’t possible, given Felix was in his early thirties. She had a tan and white chihuahua cradled in her arms, the dog lying there passively like it was used to being treated like a member of royalty and carried everywhere.

“Hi Mum,” Felix said. “I’m out.”

“I can see that.” There was no smile and definitely no hug. Her gaze skated past Felix to me. “Who’s this?”

“My probation officer. He needs to see the house.”

“Does he?” The slight raise of a perfectly sculpted eyebrow said she was about as overjoyed by that piece of news as she was about the appearance of her son on her doorstep. I was beginning to see why her decision to let him stay had taken so long.

Hoping to make things less awkward, I stepped forward with a big smile and held out my hand. “Darien Quinn. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Church. I just need to take a quick look around, if that’s okay? It should only take a few minutes and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

She took my hand, but it had to be up there as the briefest and most perfunctory handshake I’d ever received. “What is it exactly you’re looking for? ”

I tamped down on the temptation to give her the same answer as I had her son, sensing she wouldn’t find it remotely funny. I didn’t fancy the extra paperwork required in reporting that access to the property had been denied. It would cause me problems, and it would cause Felix problems. “It’s mainly a box ticking exercise with private residences. Nothing more than that.”

She let out a little sigh, the dog stirring in her arms in response to the noise. “You’d better come in then.” Her gaze strayed back to her son, a look I couldn’t identify flashing across her face before she masked it. “Both of you.”

I followed Felix over the threshold, and she led us into a large kitchen that was all black surfaces and chrome polished to within an inch of its life. She deposited the dog in a small basket by the door before turning to face us. “Tea, Mr. Quinn?”

I gave her the smile I’d once been told could stop wars. “Call me Darien, please. And…” I’d been going to say that tea wasn’t necessary, but something in Felix’s expression stopped me—an inkling that he’d appreciate me sticking around to run interference between him and his mother. It wasn’t usually part of my job description, but I liked to think of myself as fairly accommodating and there was a first time for everything. “Tea would be great,” I said, as Felix took a seat at the kitchen table. I jerked my head toward the door we’d just come through. “Am I okay just to look around, or would you rather I wait so you can give me a tour?”

I aimed the question at both Felix and his mother, but it was Mrs. Church who answered, Felix busy studying his hands. “Go ahead,” she said. “I have nothing to hide.”

I went ahead, and I took my time. Perhaps all mother and son needed was some alone time. It was possible that my presence had made it hard for them to express their emotions. It was a lovely house, the décor fitting of such an expensive residence with plenty of varnished wood and white surfaces. Halfway through my tour, the tour guide appeared to follow me from room to room, his claws clicking on the wooden floor. After a few minutes of being my shadow, I gave in and picked him up.

He proved to be good company as I continued on my way, offering a yap as I commented on the scenic view of Hampstead Heath from one window, the house backing onto it. He offered another yap when I asked if he went for walks there. I’d had clients that weren’t that chatty. The jury was still out, though, whether it was a yes or no yap, my command of dog language pretty shoddy.

One bedroom was clearly the master bedroom, the room containing lots of feminine touches. I’d expected to stumble across a childhood bedroom for Felix, but if there’d ever been one, there were no longer any traces of it. Maybe he’d fudged the truth when he’d claimed it was his childhood home.

When my journey around the house hadn’t unearthed anything more dangerous than a floor in one of the three bathrooms that was probably quite slippery when it was wet—and I couldn’t delay it any longer—I headed back to the kitchen with the chihuahua still in my arms.

If anything, the atmosphere in the kitchen had grown more frosty, not less. They both sat at the kitchen table, less than a meter away from each other, but from their body language, it may as well have been different counties. “I made a friend,” I said as I re-entered the room, wanting them both to be aware I was there.

Mrs. Church offered a smile. “Samson has always been friendly with strangers. A little too friendly, sometimes. I worry that one day he will run off with one. ”

“I doubt that,” I said, because it seemed like the right thing to say as I placed him back in his basket. “I’m sure he knows where he’s better off.”

There was an honest to god cup and saucer waiting for me in front of an empty seat at the table, along with a jug of milk and a bowl full of sugar. It was a far cry from the polystyrene cups, UHT milk, and sachets of sugar that I usually existed on during my working day. Mrs. Church watched me as I poured milk in my tea and added sugar. “I trust everything was to your satisfaction, Mr. Quinn?”

I’d given up on getting her to call me Darien. I doubted our interactions were going to be frequent enough that it would matter. And it wasn’t like she’d told me her first name, never mind invited me to use it. She looked like a Petunia or a Hyacinth—something flowery that would match her choice of decoration in the master bedroom. “Everything was absolutely fine,” I said. I stole a glance at Felix, hoping to catch his eye and lessen the tension by prompting him to remember what I’d joked about finding, but he was having none of it, his face turned away.

I drank my tea as quickly as I could, the silence getting to me in a way it never usually did. As soon as I’d drunk enough to be polite, I rose from the table. “Well, it’s been lovely to meet you, Mrs. Church.”

She inclined her head. “Likewise.”

I carried out a pantomime check of my watch, complete with raised eyebrows that said, gosh, is that the time? “Unfortunately, I need to get back to the office.”

I turned Felix’s way. “Perhaps you could see me out, Felix. There are a couple of things I could do with discussing. Things I forgot to mention on the way here.”

Felix almost fell over himself in his haste to do what I’d suggested, his mother saying nothing as he got up from the table. He didn’t speak until we were out in the front garden with the door closed. “She hates me,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “She’s never forgiven me for bringing shame on the family.”

I focused on a rosebush, a bee flitting from flower to flower in search of nectar. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you.” I wasn’t sure of that at all. Not after what I’d just witnessed. A less frosty welcome would have been hard to imagine. “These things take time.”

“These things?”

“Readjusting to life outside. Repairing damaged relationships. You’ve barely seen each other for seven years. You can’t expect things to go back to the way they were immediately.” I’d slipped easily into my usual reassurances, but they didn’t seem enough this time. Perhaps because the expression on Felix’s face said he knew they were a crock of shit. “She let you stay here,” I added feebly. “She didn’t have to do that.”

His mouth twisted, and I had a feeling I was seeing the real Felix Church, his mother’s coldness toward him and the fact that I’d witnessed it, no doubt not the easiest thing to deal with on a day that was already difficult. “Yeah.”

I checked my watch for real this time. “I really do have to go. I have an appointment at four.”

“Another soul to save!” The bite in Felix’s words was a reminder of how combative he could be when he chose. He was far more subdued today, though. And if I was honest, I wasn’t sure I liked it. It made him seem too real, too flawed, too vulnerable.

“Something like that.” I backed off toward my car, Felix tracking my progress with those cool gray eyes of his. “If you need to talk before we meet next week, call me. That’s what I’m here for.”

“I thought you were here to keep me on the straight and narrow? ”

I paused with my hand on the door of my Toyota. “I’m here to help, Felix. I promise I’m not your enemy. I’m the furthest thing from it.”

“So whatever I ask of you, you’ll say yes? Is that what you’re saying?”

The slight mockery in those gray eyes of his had me choosing my words carefully. “If it’s reasonable, yes.”

Felix moved to lean against the gate, the position bulging his biceps impressively. Levi often joked about his physique never having been the same since he gave up his “prison routine” and the evidence of how much time could be spent on it when you were locked up in a cell was right there in front of me. “And what if it’s not reasonable?” he asked.

My gaze snapped back to his face, and I realized too late that he’d caught me checking him out. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I hoped I was far enough away that he wouldn’t pick up on it. “Then I’ll say no.”

“Will you?” There was a flirtatious edge to Felix’s question. One that made it clear what path his thoughts had traveled down.

“Yes!” I opened the car door and climbed inside before he could say something else provocative. I lifted a hand in farewell without making eye contact, relieved when I could no longer see him in my rearview mirror.