Floored by Ainslie Paton Read Free Book Online Page A

about it. But after Perth, whatever happens, you’re coming in.”
    After Perth more of whatever this was would’ve played out, they’d have as much as information possible to start making and sticking arrests. It’d be over and she’d be safe. “I’d be delighted.”
    “You do know kidnapping is an offense.” So Stud wasn’t buying.
    “Who said anything about snatching her?”
    “So what, you’re going to sweep her off her feet?”
    “No, I’m going to appeal to her commercial sensibilities.”
    “Her what?”
    “Her greed. She needs the cash. It’s the only reason she’s toting me around.”
    Stud moaned. “Christ. I don’t want the details. Just bring me the receipts.”

7: Get Out
    You could feel spring in the air. Caitlyn leaned against the bonnet of the Statesman and turned her face to the sun. Mr Pariah was a long time in this house. Mr Pariah was definitely some kind of bad guy. He didn’t live at 32 MacIntosh Street. She hadn’t needed to see him limp around the corner to know that. The game was pretty much up when she saw the dad at thirty-two hustle his two kids into their Honda and drive away.
    She probably should’ve driven off then. Gone back home and found something productive to do, like reading up on the best steps to take when your ex-fiancé is a tax cheat, or phone number blocking. The only problem with that was after Justin’s call she didn’t feel safe at the flat anymore. Driving for Mr Criminal Element was a promised pay-off which meant if she had to move again, she was at least cashed up to do it.
    Then there were those blue eyes. God, they were blue. Paul Newman blue. Black Irish blue, like in the photos of Dad before he got sick. And they did twinkle, though that sounded ridiculous. It was a storybook word. Maybe it was a trick of the light. Maybe it was because they were surrounded by all that dark hair. Maybe it was because she was scared and lonely, and the owner of those eyes had been nice to her. He’d seen her. Despite her deliberate attempt to blend in with the job, he’d looked at her as if he wanted to work her out. That was unexpected in any man. In a man like him, undoubtedly used to wild women and song—it was astonishing.
    So here she was, feeling nervous for no good reason that he was still in the house. He was definitely up to no good, what did it matter how long it took him? That list he’d given her this morning, there was nothing random about it. It was specific and detailed, from the driving route he was obviously supposed to take to the timing of each appointment. And the way that bag never left his side. Yesterday the bag had gotten lighter as they’d made the stops. Yesterday he was making deliveries. Today, the bag got fuller, heavier. He was picking up today. You didn’t need to be a genius to speculate it was money. Funny money.
    She snuck a look at the man on the bike. This guy pulled up after her bikie had gone in the house. She’d expected him to go inside as well, but he stayed out here. He’d kept the bike’s engine on, breaking up the quiet of the afternoon for a good five minutes. When he finally shut it down he looked annoyed. He kept checking his watch. She ignored him, till he spoke.
    “You waitin’ on Fetch?” he called.
    Was that her bikie’s name? “I’m waiting on a client. He shouldn’t be long.”
    He got off the bike and walked over. “Long hair,” he said, indicating his own shoulders. “He got anything in the car?” He cupped his hand against his eyes and peered in the back window. She’d have moved to stop him but he was enormous, bigger than her bikie, and he wasn’t small.
    Her guy had left something. Oddly enough an old-fashioned orange aluminium cake tin. He’d pushed it under the passenger seat when he didn’t think she was looking. “Please step away from the car.”
    This new guy put his hand on the roof. His jacket had red sleeves. “Pop the boot, woman.”
    It was the word ‘woman’ that did