Chapter 15: That day: Needing an ally

CHAPTER 15

EILIDH

THAT DAY – NEEDING AN ALLY

I t had been a few days since I had discovered the identity of Mr Sexy Lips, and I was doing my level best not to obsess over him and failing dramatically.

However, despite my constant distraction, I'd spent my free time spying on the corrupt members of my team and slowly gathering more information against them.

Although I only harboured suspicions about Roy having an affair with a young woman, I'd discovered for a fact that my married sergeant was doing the dirty deed with his neighbour who was half his age.

Dirty prick! I felt sorry for his wife.

What was bloody frustrating, however, was that while I had observed more dodgy behaviour by my colleagues, I had discovered nothing I could use to link their corruption to Mathieson, or my dad's murder, beyond the photographs I got from John Aldridge. And they would be too easy to explain away, without more evidence to back them up.

The information I had found during my illegal activities wouldn't be enough because it was inadmissible in court. I'd simply needed to know what I was dealing with and get an idea of what I should look for, so that I could find something that could prompt the police to investigate further.

Sending anonymous photos of the contents of the safes I'd broken into would get me nowhere. No procurator fiscal would touch them and no judge would grant a warrant to search premises based on them because again, they could be easily explained away or be deemed a set up.

After days of snooping around and doing everything I could think of to find out what I needed, I had nothing, and I'd run out of ideas.

Rubbing at the tension in my forehead, I puffed out an exasperated breath.

Of course, there could be something worthwhile on Mathieson's computer. Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to Mr Sexy Lips.

Sighing heavily, I pulled my hair back and tied it up.

I'd need to think about that later, as I was back at work today.

Dread filled me as I finished getting dressed. It had been hard enough working with these guys before, but after investigating them, the very thought of them sickened me.

The drive to the station only made me feel sicker the closer I got.

My feet dragged as I walked through the doors of the police station and my legs felt like lead as I climbed the stairs to the CID office.

Pull yourself together, Eilidh!

It was time to get my game face on again, otherwise I would set off their alarm bells, and that was definitely not something I wanted to do.

Being back on duty with Martin was a nightmare, and I didn't know how long I could keep acting as if nothing was wrong. Thankfully, we were kept busy with various appointments, but every second with him dragged out, making it feel like one heck of a long day.

Especially since Martin kept making jokes about us getting together outside of work in his usual flirty way. He was a handsome guy, but he knew it. A real ladies' man who liked to have a new woman on his arm every time he went out. That kind of man wasn't my type. So, even before I'd become obsessed with my silver eyed Russian, I'd never have gone out with Martin, but I had found his flirting flattering and a bit of fun. Now it just made my skin crawl, and I didn't want to be anywhere near him.

However, something I discovered early on about my partner was that he liked the sound of his own voice. Once Martin started talking, he could keep doing so for a long time, with little input from anyone else. I quickly surmised he preferred it that way.

So, in between appointments, and desperately fighting back my revulsion, I kept him talking with a few strategically placed questions.

Normally, he wasn't concerned by my lack of response. His oversized ego meant that typically he assumed everyone was hanging off his every word. Truth be known, often they were. Martin was a charmer, and with his good looks, he was usually the centre of attention. He was the sort of man that many men wanted to be, and many women wanted to have.

Usually, I only had to smile, nod, chuckle occasionally, or make some non-committal noises during one of his long monologues to keep him happy. So, I hadn't expected him to notice when I zoned out, thinking of how to deal with Miki and my rising feelings for him.

"You seem really distracted today, Eilidh. Is something wrong?" His voice broke through my thoughts.

Turning towards him, I couldn't suppress my shiver as his eyes drilled into me while he waited for my answer.

Oh, no!

Unease crept along my spine, and my gut churned.

Was he suspicious of me? Did he suspect what I was up to? Or worse, did he know?

There was no way to be sure. It could just be that for once he'd noticed my distraction, but my gut told me there was more to his question than that.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I gulped nervously as sweat broke out all over my body.

Calm, Eilidh, stay calm! I pleaded with myself.

"Nothing's wrong, it's just hormones making me feel unwell," I told him, shaking my head and offering a weak smile. I prayed he'd take my response for embarrassment at admitting my female hormones were interfering with my mood rather than nerves.

Crossing my fingers, I hoped the excuse would be enough for him.

Heat crept up my neck as he assessed me, but thankfully, my pinkened cheeks appeared to do the trick and he nodded.

"Okay, sweetie, no need to be embarrassed. Do you want me to stop and get you some chocolate or something?"

Martin smiled at me sympathetically.

"No, I just need to get home. I can't wait for the shift to be over," I said truthfully.

"Well, we are done here for the day, so we'll head back to the station, and I'll arrange for the statements to be typed up, and you can disappear off home a bit early then," he replied.

"Great, thanks," I said, relief washing over me.

As soon as we returned to the station, I made my excuses and got the hell out of there.

My concern that my colleagues might be on to me meant I needed to step up my plans.

As soon as I got home, I pulled on some dark clothing, I grabbed a sandwich and some water, stuffed it into the bag I used when out on surveillance, and within less than half an hour, I was in my car and headed back to the station.

Parking at a good vantage point, I waited.

Not long after, I saw Martin's car leaving the car park. I followed behind, keeping a suitable distance between us since I no longer had my rental car.

The way he'd looked at me today had me on edge. Although I knew I should probably steer clear of him and focus on one of my other colleagues tonight, for some reason, I felt compelled to get back out and follow Martin instead.

We sped along the motorway for a while, and I expected him to take the next cut-off and head home, but he didn't. He continued on before taking the exit that I knew led to a small hotel instead.

As he pulled into the carpark, I slowed to a stop and waited until he got out and headed inside carrying a holdall.

Once he'd disappeared through the door, I parked my car around the corner where he wouldn't see it. Jumping out, I ran to the entrance and peeked inside just in time to see him go through a set of double doors towards the Spa and gym.

Hurrying back to my car, I pulled out my backpack and headed back inside. I had a friend who worked in the Spa here as a beautician, and I knew my way around and had used the gym several times before as a guest, so it was easy to look like I belonged there.

After removing my jacket, I left it in the changing room. Thankful that I had a sports top, leggings, and trainers on, so I looked the part.

Stepping into the gym, I ducked behind some equipment, trying to avoid being noticed as I checked around the room, but Martin wasn't there. In fact, for the early evening, it was very quiet. There was only an older couple working out together by the weights and a young man running on the treadmill. Shit!

Maybe he was still in the changing room?

Heading back into the corridor, I stopped outside the men's changing room and listened at the door. It was useless. I couldn't hear anything, so I quietly opened the door a crack and peered in.

Nobody was in the immediate area, but I could hear voices from somewhere inside. Praying I wasn't about to come upon some unsuspecting guy in his birthday suit, I ducked inside and crept towards the voices.

They were hushed, but I recognised Martin's voice as one of them.

"I need you to watch, and if I am right, then we have a problem that will need to be sorted," he said.

"Just how sorted are we talking?" the other voice asked, emphasising the word sorted.

"Depends on just how much of a problem we have. Find that out first, then get back to me, and I'll deal with it myself," Martin said.

The other voice responded, but I couldn't make out what he said. Hearing footsteps coming my way, I ran to a toilet cubicle and hid behind its door, holding my breath.

The changing room door opened and closed, but I remained where I was, straining to hear anything else.

Within seconds, another person exited, then there was silence. I waited a little longer, then crept out of the cubicle and rushed for the door.

Damn it. I must have missed most of their conversation.

What the hell was that about? Was it about me? If it was, I could be in big trouble.

Peeking into the gym, I saw Martin running on the treadmill. There was no sign of anyone else with him.

As soon as I got back into the women's changing room, I grabbed my bag and left.

Thank god there were no speed cameras in the vicinity and no police cars on patrol as I sped along the road like a formula one driver on speed.

All the way I kept checking over my shoulder as if a car was suddenly going to be following me.

The rational part of my brain told me I was being dumb. Nobody was following me. After all, neither Martin nor his associate had known I was there, but my churning gut, shaking hands and overall sick feeling said I didn't believe it.

Regardless of whether I was being followed, I had to assume that the conversation I'd overheard was about me. After the way Martin had acted today, taking more notice of my demeanour than usual, which was out of character for him, I was convinced of it.

Of course, there was the slightest chance I was wrong. I might just be being paranoid, but I didn't believe so. My gut said they suspected me, and I needed to listen to it.

Suddenly, I felt very alone and very frightened.

The words John Aldridge said to me kept playing over and over in my mind. What if he was right, and I ended up with a bullet in my head like my dad? Just another unsolved cold case. Bile rose in my throat as I realised how screwed I could be.

Shit! I couldn't do this alone.

My mind whirled, and I felt dizzy.

I'd been a bloody fool. Anything could happen to me, and then my dad would have really died for nothing, the corruption would go on, and those involved would get away with everything. That couldn't be allowed to happen.

I needed an ally, and there was only one person it could be. It was time to go see Miki and take him up on his offer to work together and trade information. It looked like fate had decided, after all.

Turning my car around, I headed to the Hilton.