Page 140 of Better the Devil

‘Because if I didn’t, if I showed them how afraid I am of them, then that would’ve been it,’ Eleanor cried. Her voice cracked, real emotion finally breaking the surface. ‘If they knew how terrified I am, if they saw that weakness, I would’ve been done!’

Fairweather picked up his pen and placed it in his top pocket. A glance from the older man made The Boy spring into life. He hurriedly flipped his notebook closed as Fairweather’s chair legs scraped backwards across the floor.

‘Right, that’s us. We’re finished here,’ he announced. ‘Mrs Belov…’

He stood up, indicating that she should do the same. Logan let her push her chair back before dropping the bombshell.

‘Not yet.’

One of Fairweather’s eyebrows twitched. Just briefly. Just for a fraction of a second. For a face like his, though, which seemed carved from stone, it was seismic.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I’m not finished,’ Logan told him.

‘My client is here voluntarily, so she is free to leave at any point, as you very well know.’

‘I said I’m not finished,’ Logan reiterated. He met the solicitor’s gaze. ‘Sit. Down.’

The lawyer stood his ground, not sitting, but not moving to leave, either. Behind him, The Boy was frozen to the spot, only his eyes shifting as they flitted between his boss and the detective.

‘It’s fine, Douglas,’ Eleanor said. She sighed when she turned to Logan, like she’d been humouring the village idiot and was now tiring of his nonsense.

The thing in his gut stirred again, twisting itself into knots this time, battling to be free, to beunleashed. Logan stopped resisting. He opened his mouth, about to go for the kill.

His phone went off in his pocket. He felt the vibration through his chest. Across the table, Eleanor and Fairweather both looked in the direction of the sound.

‘Sorry,’ Logan muttered, taking the phone from his pocket.

Shona’s name and photograph filled the screen. Her mobile number, not work.

Personal, not business.

Shit, shit, shit. Not now. Not now!

‘Do you need to take that?’ Fairweather asked.

Logan studied her name. Stared into her smiling eyes. The phone pulsed like a heartbeat. Some living thing nestled in the palm of his hand.

Not now.

Why now?

‘No. It’s fine.’

He tapped the red button. The heartbeat died in his hand. He muted the device, then returned it to his pocket.

Think about it later. Worry about it later.Deal with itlater.

He took a half-second to compose himself before pulling the trigger on the kill shot he’d been lining up for the past half an hour.

‘Remind me, where did you say you were between four and six-thirty on Wednesday evening, Eleanor?’

The question did nothing to help her growing impatience.

‘I told you. I was at home. All night.’

‘Really? That’s funny.’