4. Marko

CHAPTER 4

MARKO

EARLY HOURS OF FRIDAY MORNING – SURVEILLANCE

Y awning widely, I continued to watch Melissa Martin's home.

My tired, heavy eyes swept over the house before me. It was a large and attractive modern property, split into two apartments. Melissa stayed in the larger one at the top, while the smaller apartment below was currently unoccupied.

I'd only managed to do a basic dig into Melissa's background before I left the house last night, but I had some of my guys checking things out further. For now, though, the information I had on her was limited and not very helpful.

Melissa Martin was the daughter of an art dealer who died in Monaco about ten months ago. They had been rich prior to his illness, but after paying medical bills and other debts, there was little left. Melissa wasn't destitute by anyone's standards, but her finances had taken a huge hit. Of course, with the sizeable sum of cash that had been transferred into her bank account this morning, I guessed that wasn't the case anymore.

With her dad gone, Miss Martin had obviously not wanted to stay in Monaco by herself and had returned to their London apartment just a couple of weeks ago. She was now attending a local college, doing a photography course. Neither father nor daughter appeared to have had any link to Mathieson. At least none I had found yet. But there had to be one.

A pounding behind my eyes made me wince, and I closed them for a second to give them a rest. As soon as I did, the picture on her license came to mind. Licking my lips, I let the image of her solidify in my mind's eye. Lord, the woman was gorgeous. Those pouty lips called to me, and I wondered what they would feel like against my own. Or wrapped around my cock. The appendage in question jerked in longing at the thought.

Geez, I needed to stop fantasising about a woman who might be an enemy.

My mind bombarded me with the same questions I'd been asking myself all night.

Who are you? What's your connection to Mathieson? And are you a threat?

Annoyed that the answers still eluded me, I huffed out a tired, frustrated breath and rubbed my forehead, trying to ease the ache behind my eyes.

Normally, I would enjoy the challenge it took to find out the answers to these questions, but tiredness was making me impatient and headachy.

My whole body was stiff from sitting in the one position most of the night. Nothing had happened, and I was so bored, I'd almost drifted off at one point. Luckily, I'd brought a flask of coffee with me and that had kept me awake. However, by the time dawn approached, there was none left, and a few hours later, I was nearly done for and in severe need of some shut eye.

Before the alarm had gone off alerting me to the movement with Mathieson's bank account, I had been working on a personal project and had been too engrossed with it to remember to go to bed. I had a problem that way. Whenever I was busy with work or personal projects, I tended to forget to go to bed and simply grabbed a nap in my office chair when I couldn't stay awake any longer.

As a result, I hadn't had a proper night's sleep in days, and it was taking its toll on me now. I checked my watch and groaned.

Unfortunately, Luca, who was due to take over the surveillance this morning wouldn't be here for at least another few hours. He had a business meeting to attend first thing. So, I pinched my thigh and slapped my cheek to stop my eyes drifting closed while I silently watched the house.

Stretching my arms up over my head, I stifled a groan as my back and neck creaked. God, I could really do with another coffee and maybe a massage right now. Unfortunately, there was no chance of either.

Damn, it had been a long night. I rubbed at the back of my neck and fidgeted as I checked my watch again. It had literally only been a couple of minutes since I'd last checked it and I was about ready to climb the walls.

Police shows always skimmed over surveillance and you never saw just how long and excruciatingly boring doing this kind of thing could be. Or how bloody difficult it was to stay awake when nothing was happening.

Not to mention the fact that I badly needed a pee. I looked at the container I had in my backpack for just such emergencies and frowned in disgust.

Hell no! I need to stretch my legs, anyway.

After checking that the street was empty, I made sure the interior light was turned off in the cab, so it wouldn't draw any unwanted attention if anyone was looking out of a window. Then I silently opened the van door and stepped out. My stiff legs protested at the movement, and I had to bite back a groan. Thankfully, they soon loosened up as I walked on silent feet towards a small park area. Behind the cover of some bushes, I quickly did my business. Relief flooding me as I released myself.

Returning to the van, I settled back into the seat and prepared for another few hours of boredom. Or maybe not. I straightened in the seat. Miss Martin was heading this way.

Hmmm. Where are you off to, sweetheart?

Melissa didn't appear to notice me sitting in one of our nondescript white vans across the street, dressed like your average worker in dark blue overalls and a baseball cap. She didn't even look my way, but unable to stop myself, I looked at her. Wow, if I thought her beautiful before, well neither her picture nor ogling her from a distance had done her justice. She was even more beautiful in real life.

Since she was on foot, I assumed she was going to walk to wherever she was going or take public transport. Either way, I needed to follow. Underneath my overalls, I had on jeans and a dark T-shirt, so I quickly shucked out of them, grabbed my black hoodie and backpack and hurried after her.

We didn't go far. Around fifteen minutes' walk from her apartment, we turned a corner, and I realised she was headed for the bank where her account was set up. I stayed close on her heels until she entered the bank.

Following her inside, I pretended to read some leaflets on bank loans while I watched her speaking to a member of staff. A couple of minutes later, a man, whom I assumed was the manager, appeared. He greeted her and then led her into his office where they remained for quite a while.

Another member of staff entered the office with what appeared to be paperwork and then left again. A further minute passed and Melissa emerged with the manager, but she didn't turn to leave. Instead, they headed through a security door. Before the door closed, I noticed stairs at the end of a hallway leading down. It looked like they were headed down to where the vault and safety deposit boxes were kept.

Interesting.

Unable to follow her downstairs and unwilling to hang around inside the small bank any longer in case my actions caused suspicion, I stuffed one leaflet in my pocket and headed back outside to wait.

Spying a coffee kiosk across the street, I made my way over and ordered a badly needed latte. As I took a deep breath of the rich aroma, the fatigue began to lift, and I felt more awake with each inhalation. Taking the first sip, the warm, velvety liquid energised me instantly, spreading a comforting heat through my body and sharpening my senses.

Standing there sipping the drink also helped me look less conspicuous as I watched the door. While I was waiting for my quarry to reappear, I checked in with my assistant Josh. He helped with a lot of my legitimate business but also my less savoury stuff. I'd tasked him with finding out a bit more about Melissa Martin, but because of an issue with one of our legitimate building projects he was working on, he hadn't had the time to do more digging on her yet. So, unfortunately, there was no new information for him to give me.

Just as I finished up my call, Melissa finally reappeared.