Dead Heat by Nick Oldham Page B

evil, especially if you’re learning to ride.’
    Tara Wickson’s nice smile continued unabated. She looked into his eyes. He gulped and glanced quickly down at his hands and coughed uncomfortably. He checked the time. Twenty minutes to go. Then he thought that maybe he was being stupid and arrogant. Just because a woman looked directly at him did not mean she was gagging to go to bed with him. You arrogant bastard, he thought about himself and raised his eyes. She was far too young for him anyway.
    She was sipping her coffee, her eyes still on him over the rim of her mug. Nice eyes.
    â€˜You’re a policeman, aren’t you? Charlotte said Leanne had told her. A detective? Am I right?’
    â€˜Sort of.’ He suddenly felt quite awkward. What else had Leanne told Charlotte?
    â€˜Are you on special leave, or something?’
    Henry guffawed. ‘Or something,’ he confirmed coldly.
    â€˜Oh sorry, I’m treading on thin ice here, aren’t I?’
    Henry opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, shut it and grinned.
    â€˜Leanne hasn’t actually said very much, in case you’re worrying and planning to beat her soundly later.’
    â€˜Kids talk,’ he said philosophically. ‘I wouldn’t want to gag her.’ Then he made a snap decision and didn’t know why. He said, ‘Yes, I am a policeman. I am a detective, but it’s not special leave. I’m suspended from duty. I’m being investigated, you might say.’
    Tara leaned back and eyed him thoughtfully. ‘For dishonesty?’ she asked bluntly.
    He shook his head. ‘Stupidity . . . lack of judgement . . . disobeying a lawful order.’ Then he quickly clammed up. Why was he telling her this crap?
    â€˜To be honest, I already know,’ she said.
    â€˜Oh.’ He put his mug to his mouth and swigged from what was an empty receptacle. ‘Mm,’ he murmured, glaring into the mug.
    â€˜You’re very prickly about it. I can understand that. It can’t be an easy time for you.’
    â€˜No, but I’ve had lots of holidays out of it.’
    â€˜So Leanne said.’
    â€˜I will beat her soundly after all,’ Henry decided.
    â€˜Are you bored?’
    â€˜What? Here and now? Or with the situation I’m in?’
    â€˜Bored by the amount of time you now have to kill.’
    â€˜It is getting to me. Good at first, all that time to loll about, then it begins to pall somewhat. A bit like retirement, I would think.’
    â€˜How do you fill your time?’
    Henry looked at her square on. His expression told her that enough was enough. Even he wasn’t sure how they had got here, but he felt it was time to call a halt to the conversation. He had said enough to someone who was just a stranger. ‘How do you fill yours?’ he asked.
    She blinked and said openly, ‘Shopping. Dining out. Sex. The usual, you know? When you’re rich, that is. Oh, horses, too.’
    â€˜You’re rich then? You wanna tell me?’
    â€˜Not really.’ Her voice was suddenly as tight as a closed drawbridge.
    â€˜Shall we talk about the kids?’ Henry suggested, picking up on her vibes.
    â€˜No,’ she snapped, then relaxed. ‘Look . . . time to come clean, Mr Christie. I’m actually not just here for personal chit-chat, as pleasant as that may be. I’ll tell you my problem and I wonder if you could help me.’
    â€˜Tell you what, let’s do it over a new cup of coffee each. I’m old-fashioned like that.’ He picked up the mugs and bought two new brews.
    â€˜Thanks.’ She curled her fingers around the mug again like it was a comfort blanket. Henry noticed her nails were beautifully manicured and wondered if caring for her body was in her list of activities. She looked exceptionally well groomed. ‘I’ll be honest, I have asked around a bit about you before coming to see you. You come