Page 66 of Read Between The Lines

Helping Etta register new stock took up the next few hours, but I still couldn’t resist checking my phone every five minutes to see if there was any news from Leo. I finally caved mid-afternoon and texted to ask if he was alright, but he left me on read. Logically I knew he was probably too busy to get back to me, but that didn’t stop my mind skipping merrily down the catastrophising rabbit hole, and I started to picture all kinds of terrifying scenarios, ranging from Blake merely confronting him to Leo being pushed in front of a moving car. Eventually I sent an ultimatum.

KAT

Let me know you’re still alive in the next half an hour, otherwise I’ll call the police and get your friend Sid on the case.

A response came back within five minutes.

LEO

Am ok. Talk later.

Fair enough, Mr Chatty, if that’s the way you want to play it, I said to myself, and buried myself in reshelving for the rest of the day.

* * *

‘Gotcha,’ I hissed later that evening, pouncing on Leo where he was lurking behind a large recycling bin at the far end of the Oxford Grand’s car park. Somewhat to my disappointment, he didn’t even bat an eyelid.

‘I heard you coming a mile off,’ he said calmly. ‘Did you realise that those Converse shoes of yours squeak when you’re on tiptoe?’

‘Drat. And here I was thinking I was so much better at engaging stealth mode than you are.’ I gestured at his high visibility waistcoat which was practically glowing in the dark.

‘Au contraire. Hi-vis is a very effective disguise. Everyone assumes you’re a workman with a legitimate reason to be hanging around. And if you’re hanging around by the bins, it’s even better. Nobody in their right minds wants to get too close to the smell.’

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Now you come to mention it, you are rather ripe.’

‘Maybe you can lend me some of whatever shower gel it is that you use. You always smell flowery and fresh,’ he said unexpectedly.

I experienced a definite frisson at his compliment and what it might mean about how he felt towards me, especially as I religiously used unscented products so my sensitive skin didn’t get irritated. Had I been a bolder person, I might have taken the leap and flirtatiously invited him to share a shower with me some time. But it was late, I was tired, and I wasn’t suddenly going to undergo a personality transplant and proposition a man behind the bins, even if he did look exceptionally good in spite of his bright yellow safety gear.

‘I’ll tell you where to find the brand I use,’ was my lame response instead. ‘What have you learnt, Mr Bond, James Bond?’

‘Hmm, that the reality of surveillance work involves a lot fewer martinis of either the shaken or stirred variety. Our quarry seems to be a man of fairly mundane habits. About the most exciting thing he’s done today is buy coffee not once, but twice, and both times he went to chains rather than independents.’

‘Definitely another mark against him.’

‘He also did what he’d probably claim was a workout in the University Parks, but really he was preening and hoping to catch the attention of any passing woman.’

‘Did he have success?’ I asked.

‘None whatsoever,’ said Leo with a grin. ‘I, on the other hand…’

I gave him a shove. ‘I thought you were meant to be concentrating on the task in hand.’

‘I’m only kidding. I was laser-focused on the target the whole way round. A group of dancing girls could have come up to me and I wouldn’t have noticed. Besides, I’m a one-woman kind of man.’

I wanted to ask more when the stage door suddenly opened.

‘Duck down,’ hissed Leo. ‘You need to hide in the shadows; I’ve only got one hi-vis vest on me.’

Blake Jenkins whistled to himself as he walked through the car park and down the street, passing only metres away from us. I held my breath, trying to keep as still as possible in case my unsuitable footwear revealed our position.

‘Interesting, he still hasn’t got back in his car,’ muttered Leo. ‘Maybe that means his digs are nearby. Are you up for some more field practice in surveillance?’

‘What about my squeaky shoes?’ I whispered back.

‘Try walking normally,’ he advised. ‘I think it was probably your tiptoe technique causing the problem.’

He quickly removed his hi-vis and stuffed it into his rucksack.

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