Death Surge by Pauline Rowson Read Free Book Online Page B

hadn’t met Cantelli. He saw a flicker of surprise in her blue eyes at the sharpness of his tone.
    ‘Scott told me why you were at the marina, and then I ran into Sarah. She said a good-looking detective had wanted a photograph of Johnnie Oslow. I called the police station and got the details. I thought you and Sergeant Cantelli had left the Island, but the Commodore of the yacht club told me that he’d given the police berth to a Detective Inspector Horton.’
    And why did he tell you that?
How had his name come up in conversation? And if Agent Harriet Eames knew he was here then her rich daddy certainly knew too.
    She said, ‘I’ve come to see if I can help.’
    Did he believe her? He recalled the scene in the yacht club earlier that morning when she’d stumbled on him and her father in a heated exchange. Maybe she did want to help in the search for Cantelli’s nephew, but he also knew there was another reason why she was here.
    He said, ‘And you’re curious to know what my argument with your father was about.’
    She eyed him coolly. ‘Yes, but I don’t expect you’ll tell me any more than he did when I asked him, so I’m not even going to waste my breath. I’d like to help you find Johnnie Oslow.’
    ‘Why? You don’t even know Cantelli,’ he said with a touch of scorn. He was cross with her for making him so hostile.
    ‘That doesn’t stop me caring or being a police officer,’ she sharply rejoined. ‘And don’t say that because I’m at Europol I’m just pen pusher. I’m not, and you know it. So, do you want my help or not?’
    ‘What about Rupert?’ Horton sneered.
    ‘What about him?’
    Horton held her angry eyes. Did she mean it? Could he trust her? God, he wanted to, and badly. But trust was something he found so very hard to give. The small voice inside him warned caution. She could be here under daddy’s instructions to wheedle her way into his affections (which wouldn’t be difficult) in order to discover what he would do next in his search for his mother. But would Lord Eames use his daughter in that way? The answer came back almost immediately: you bet he would. Whether Harriet Eames would allow herself to be used though was another matter. He didn’t know the intricacies of her relationship with her father, only that he remembered her telling him the first time they’d met in June that her family hadn’t approved of her choice of career. With that thought came the memory of a fleeting expression of sadness crossing her face when they’d been on-board the ferry together, sailing to the Island from Portsmouth while on duty, and she’d told him her father owned a house there. But whatever his feelings for her and her father, they were nothing compared to his concern for Cantelli and his family over Johnnie’s disappearance. That took priority. He needed all the help he could get, whatever form it came in. And the form couldn’t get better than Harriet Eames.
    His phone rang. ‘It’s Cantelli,’ he said, quickly answering it.
    ‘There’s no one on duty who was working on Wednesday,’ Cantelli said dejectedly. ‘The guard on that train from London Waterloo will be on duty tomorrow. I got his home address and telephone number but there’s no answer. I’m outside his house now in Portsmouth. He’s not in. I’ll try tomorrow.’
    And tomorrow meant another night of not knowing, just like the many nights Horton had experienced throughout the years of not knowing, maybe never knowing. No, he didn’t even want to consider Cantelli and his family experiencing that.
    Cantelli continued: ‘The security manager said that they’d be able to tell if Johnnie’s ticket had gone through the automatic barriers on leaving the station because of the bar code on it. If we can get hold of the ticket booking reference number then it would speed things up, otherwise they can conduct a computer search if the ticket was booked in his name or if we give the name of the person booking