Miss No One, Mark Ayre [romantic love story reading .TXT] 📗

when I came barging in. You certainly wouldn't have seemed so alarmed when I arrived. Even if you were undercover and trying to hide your true identity, which I know will be your next gambit, you would have confessed all to Kilman. That you didn’t tells me you don't want him to know and leaves two possibilities."

Christine drank some more booze, shook her head. Almost two-thirds gone.

"You're wrong," she said. "Kilman knew where I was. It was an authorised operation. When I briefed Kilman this morning, I told him about our meeting. He was intrigued, but I asked him, as a professional courtesy, to hold off questioning you."

"And he said yes?" asked Abbie. She couldn't keep the scepticism from her voice.

"Doesn't seem the sort, does he?" said Christine. "He outranks me and has been known to throw his weight around, but this was my operation, and for once, he agreed to play it my way. Still, if nothing else, you can rely on Kilman to change his mind." Christine pointed to the door. "I wouldn't be surprised to see him burst in any minute, cuffs in hand, ready to haul you back to the station for more questions. This time about Davesh and the dealership."

Abbie followed Christine's finger. Looked to the door. Somehow, she managed to keep the smile from her lips. Christine either really did believe Abbie was an idiot or was kidding herself. Abbie hoped it was the latter.

The plan formed fast enough. Rising, Abbie picked up her drink and drained half of it.

"What are you doing?" said Christine.

"I'm going. Thank you for the lemonade."

Abbie made to turn away, though she had no intention of leaving.

"Where are you going?"

Pausing, Abbie turned back to Christine. She was halfway out the booth.

"It's been a stressful day," said Abbie, "and I could do without the axe hovering over my neck. The anticipation will be too much; I'll be unable to focus knowing Kilman could appear at any moment, so I'm going to face the situation head-on. I'll call my lawyer and ask for a meeting with Kilman. Once the tape's rolling, I'll tell him everything about last night. Get it all in the open. I'll apologise for ruining your operation if that's what I did, but make it clear I had nothing to do with Davesh's murder. I might also declare I saved your life, which is true. You'll remember how you froze." Abbie paused, met Christine's eye. "Anyway."

Abbie turned. Heard Christine rise.

"Wait."

Abbie did but didn't turn back. The large landlady was looking Abbie's way, but Abbie ignored her. Kept her eyes on the door.

"You're trying to play me," said Christine.

"No," said Abbie, although she absolutely was. "I'm not."

"What happens if I call your bluff?"

Slowly turning on her heel, Abbie again met Christine's eye.

"What we're doing here is gambling," said Abbie, gesturing from herself to Christine and back.

“On what?"

"Outcomes," said Abbie. "I already told you why I'm in town. I suspected Isabella was in danger and was determined to save her. Her kidnap confirms my suspicions and bolsters my determination. But I can't do what needs to be done with the fear of arrest overhanging me. I'm betting my chances of saving Isabella improve if I'm honest with the police now, rather than waiting for them to apprehend me at a crucial moment. It's a big bet, with long odds, but it's one I have to take. Meanwhile, you're gambling on whether I'm bluffing, although, spoiler alert, I'm not."

Abbie was. She knew Christine hadn't told Kilman about the dealership. Neither he nor anyone who worked at that station knew what Christine had been up to last night. Abbie would have put money on it. With the suspicion and potential charges already hanging over Abbie, she had no desire to hand the cops any more ammo.

The question was, did Christine know this?

There was a long pause, the two woman looking at each other. Abbie raised her arms.

"Well, can I go?"

Christine wanted to say yes. Abbie could see she was sure Abbie was bluffing. She knew Abbie would never go to the police.

She knew, but still could not take the risk. Abbie saw that in the younger woman's eyes as well.

Stalling, the detective said, "You said once you ruled out an operation authorised by my station, there were only two options that explain why I was at the dealership last night. What were they?"

Pausing, not reclaiming her seat, Abbie made it look like she was considering whether to answer. She glanced back at the door, then to the landlady, who kept looking to her. Probably because Abbie was still standing. Neither of the older gentlemen seemed to have noticed. Weren't old men in pub's supposed to be lecherous perverts? Abbie wondered if she should be offended they weren’t checking her out. More likely, her sloppy stereotyping should offend them.

"Well?" Christine pressed, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Okay," said Abbie, as though, at that moment, she had resolved to answer the question. “Actually, it's three options if you include both.”

"Right," said Christine. She was drinking again; her first pint was almost gone. Abbie had some more lemonade.

"Option one," said Abbie and paused for effect. "Personal vendetta."

Christine nodded but didn't speak. She tried to keep her face expressionless; it was clear she didn't want to give anything away.

"As in," said Abbie, "Davesh is viewed as a kind, innocent car salesman by most, as though such a thing exists. But maybe he sold a dodgy car to someone you love, and that someone died. That would no doubt motivate you to unlawfully pursue Davesh behind your colleagues' backs."

Christine was still trying not to show any emotion. Abbie did her best to read the detective but knew such attempts were never flawless. Christine had seemed to be an emotional open book in the early hours of that morning, but who knew?

"Option two," Abbie continued. "You are undercover, but no one in the local station knows. This would indicate you were sent by another department to this station under false pretences. In such