Secrets Remembered by Raven McAllen Page A

driveway bordered by rhododendron bushes. “Bit bumpy here, too much rain and it’s washed the gravel into humps and lumps that I’ve not had time to smooth out. Hold on tight.” The bike lurched from one dip to the next and waves of dirty water washed out of the puddles. Ailsa was glad she wasn’t walking through them.
    “What the…?” Aidan swore, as he stopped the bike next to a large four-by-four. Ailsa watched with interest as a swarthy overweight man got out of one side, and a slimmer clone from the other.
    “My father and goodness knows who. It’s gonna be nasty.” Aidan got off the bike and stood between Ailsa and the men. “Can you get off and, er, adjust your skirt? Christ I’m so sorry. If I’d have known the arsehole was going to appear, I’d not have brought you.”
    “Don’t worry.” Ailsa slid off the bike and pulled her skirt down in one swift movement. “And I’m glad he’s here. I’m going to put the fear of God in him.” She waited until Aidan lifted both their helmets off and ran her fingers through her hair. Luckily, as it was short and curly, she knew from experience it wouldn’t look too messy.
    “Do you want me to see what’s going on, Sir?” She used the title deliberately, and some of the bleakness that had shown in Aidan’s eyes disappeared. “Or shall we give him enough rope to hang himself?”
    Aidan smiled. “Oh, definitely the latter. Can we?”
    “Oh, I think so. I’ll let you start, Sir.”
    He winked. “Thank you for that, pet. Let’s get shot of him as soon as possible. I have a bed, a blindfold, some beautifully soft handcuffs and a nice teasing flogger with your name on waiting inside.”
    For once the thought of being unsighted and bound didn’t worry her. Instead it set off ripples of arousal and tingles deep inside. Ailsa tamped down the sensations and watched as Aidan approached his father.
    “Father.”
    “This is Sergeant Franklin.” The older man didn’t bother with platitudes or greetings. “He wants to ask a few questions about your lifestyle. If you promise to give it up and sign this”—Murison Jefferies waved a paper in front of him—“he’ll keep you out of it. You can have your old job back then.”
    Ailsa kept her face straight with difficulty. Really the man had been watching too many old ’70s cop show reruns. It was obvious Aidan thought so too, because he laughed.
    “Pull the other one. He’s about as much a policeman as I am.” He turned to the slimmer man. “Show me your warrant card.”
    The man jutted his chin out. “You don’t make the demands, mate.”
    Ailsa decided it was time to intervene. She took three steps forward, and saw Aidan grin. “Over to you, pet,” he said under his breath. “He’s no policeman, is he?”
    Ailsa shook his head. If he were, then she’d turn her warrant card in as soon as she could. He was the type who’d give the force a bad name.
    “Maybe he doesn’t make the demands, mate, but I do.” She stood square on to the man. “Show me your warrant card.”
    “Ha, some alleged Dom you are. Hiding behind a woman. Or is she the Domme, eh?” Murison Jefferies sneered the words. “Some women want a prick.”
    “Well they’d get one if they were with you, wouldn’t they? And not in the ‘nice big cock and know what to do with it’ way.” Ailsa wondered where that crudity had come from. However, she didn’t give him a chance to interrupt. “Mind you, I suppose in one way I am in charge. I’m the policewoman.” Ailsa took her warrant card from her bag. “Inspector McLagan. I’m so pleased to meet you, Mr Jefferies. Some of my colleagues want a chat with you. And if this is Ronald Franklin, they’d like to chat to him as well.”

Chapter Nine
     
     
     
    If looks could kill, Aidan reckoned he’d be ten feet under and someone would be praying for his soul. He’d bet his new violet wand it wouldn’t be his father. That man stared at them both and turned back to his