Dead Man Switch by Tara Moss

Author:Tara Moss [Moss, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2019-09-10T16:00:00+00:00

‘Your flat is real beaut,’ Sam remarked, standing like a soldier at the window of Billie’s living room and looking down over the Moreton Bay fig trees towards the water. The sun was setting, and it gave him a soft golden halo and illuminated his silhouette down to his waist. They had reached Billie’s place without anyone else trying to kill them or warn them off, but the adrenaline from their encounter in the alley had not yet subsided.

‘I’ve not seen that kind of excitement since . . .’ Sam’s voice trailed off.

‘Tobruk?’ Billie suggested.

Sam nodded. ‘Yes. And they didn’t have anyone like you there.’

The encounter seemed to have affected them in a similar way: their faces were flushed, their cheeks glowing, their eyes alight with excitement. Billie felt acutely alive as she walked over to her walnut Art Deco bar cabinet and cast a look back at her assistant’s haloed form. Her breath caught in her throat. Sam had been very impressive in that alley. Very bloody impressive. He’d suggested that he should be the one to get the drinks for them, as seemed to be his way, but he was a guest and she couldn’t have that. This wasn’t the office. Sam had done quite enough already in the service of their professional work, and his day was not yet over. It was quite possible the worst was yet to come. The state of Con Zervos’s remains would not have improved over the last few hours.

A day of bad luck.

‘What would you like?’ she asked her assistant and bent to open the cabinet’s lower set of doors, one of which was sticking slightly. Yes, her ribs were going to bruise, she could feel it. Masking a wince, she saw that she still had some port, a good scotch whisky, her mother’s favourite sherry, and a couple of bottles of wine.

‘Whatever you’re having,’ Sam said cautiously, still at the window. ‘Perhaps just one drink . . .’

‘Yes, you have a big night ahead. This will ease the way. Scotch on the rocks? I have a good Dewar’s White Label.’

‘On the rocks? Certainly.’ Sam thanked her, seeming impressed. He waited uncomfortably, looking at the glowing treetops, his large, scarred hands clasped behind his back. How bad was his left hand beneath that glove? Billie wondered. Even with prosthetic fingers, he’d managed those two men exceedingly well. She hoped the effort hadn’t damaged his hand further.

‘Are you injured?’ she inquired. He might have been masking discomfort even more than she was. ‘That kidney punch looked ugly. And your hand . . .’

He shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Good. We’re both fine then,’ she declared, pulling the bottle of scotch up on to the bar. ‘My stocking was the only real casualty,’ she added with a light-hearted smile, but when she looked down at her legs she frowned. She hadn’t the energy to take them off yet, nor her torn dress, and being thrust into this close proximity with Sam in her own place suddenly struck her as more intimate than intended.

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