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He picked up his cup and drained the remnants of tea. He stared up at the man and smiled when he broke away first. Sir Hugo Hollandrake shook his head and walked for the door.

“Amanda, you can come with me and feedback to the PM,” he said sharply. He looked back at Amherst. “I mean it. Reassigned. At best.”

 Amanda Cunningham stood up. “I’m sorry, Alex. Truly I am, but it had to be said. People have died, more will die until these terrorists are caught. It’s nothing personal, it just needs real investigators and detectives on this case,” she paused, swung her satchel over her shoulder and walked between Amherst’s desk and the line of three coffee tables. She stopped in front of Caroline. “I’m sorry about your cottage, really I am. It was such a shame, such a beautiful part of the country.”

Caroline smiled, but it was emotionless. “Thank you.”

“I liked it,” Amanda said, slipping her document folder into her satchel. “The barbecue area was lovely. I bet you’ve had a great many romantic meals together there as well.” She followed the Home Secretary out, nodding to Director Amherst as she left.

Amherst waited for the door to close. He looked at Caroline, who in turn had flushed red and was staring at the floor. “Would you two like a moment, before we commence? I think it may be a good idea.”

King shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

Amherst nodded. “Well then?”

“Actually, Sir,” Caroline said quietly, still staring at the floor. “A minute or two would be helpful.”

“Of course. Use the briefing room,” he said, without looking up.

Caroline stood up and walked ahead of King to the door. King followed. He was embarrassed at the scene, angered at Amanda Cunningham’s broadside, but most of all, he could see that her comments had hurt Caroline. They had been calculated, delivered to hurt Caroline as much as himself. King could not forgive that.

The briefing room was half the size of Amherst’s office. It was dark and empty, but the room was motion sensitive and the light came on when they entered. Caroline stood with her back to him, her hands on her shapely hips.

“That fucking bitch!” she said contemptuously.

King was shocked. Caroline seldom cursed, but he could see just how angry she was. It was a side to her he had never seen before. “Caroline, I…”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“Of course not!”

“Kiss?”

“No!”

“Then what?”

King perched on the edge of a table. He looked at her back, wished he could see her face, but he knew her well, knew he couldn’t rush her. “I wanted to talk to her about her findings. It wasn’t the sort of talk for a hotel bar.”

“Of course not,” she said sharply. “So why not at Sir Ian Snell’s house?”

King shrugged. “It kind of snowballed. She suggested her hotel bar. She said she was staying in Truro, I had to pass through Truro to get back to the cottage. I didn’t think it would be very private. I suggested a coffee at the cottage, she said she was starving, so I offered to cook something. I hadn’t eaten all day either,” he paused. “It was dumb, but innocent. At least on my part.”

Caroline turned around. Her eyes were moist. “She’s very pretty,” she said. “And young. And it wasn’t just dumb, it was bloody stupid of you.”

“I know,” he said solemnly. And then he smiled. “For goodness sake, love. I’ve never felt the same way about someone as I do with you.”

“Apart from with Jane,” she corrected him.

King shook his head. “I loved my wife,” he said. “And I was heartbroken when she died. For years. But then I met you. I’ve never been happier. I’m sorry I invited her, but I knew it was a mistake pretty soon after she arrived.”

“Why?”

King smiled wryly. “Because she had been drinking, carried on drinking, then lost it when I suggested she had drunk too much. Especially, to drive back to her hotel in Truro,” he said.

“But you both stayed at the St. Michaels, in Falmouth,” she said suspiciously.

“I know. She definitely told me that she was staying in Truro. I drove all over the bloody place looking for her car,” he paused. “Then all hell broke loose at the cottage and after Randal left with the body, I checked a few places for vacancies and nipped down to Falmouth. That’s when I saw her again, at breakfast.”

“And you shared a table, naturally?” she said quietly.

He shrugged. “Yes. I guess I just wanted to see what she was doing there. I can’t work her out. She’s heading the forensics on this, but she seems too much of a loose cannon, too erratic.”

Caroline looked at him, then cast her eyes down. “This isn’t working, is it?”

“What?”

“You, MI5, us working together.”

King frowned at her. “What makes you say that?”

“Alex, you turned up to a top tier meeting wearing what most men would dress to go drinking in on a Friday night,” she paused. “At a meeting with the Home Secretary, no less. You even knocked the meeting back an hour. Who does that? You don’t want this anymore. You want to hide in the shadows, hunt down terrorists and put a bullet in them. That bitch, Amanda Cunningham, had it right; this isn’t your line of expertise. You’re not an investigator. But it’s more than that, I just don’t think you want to be told what to do anymore. You need something else. A new challenge.”

“The yacht?” he said. “We could go around the world together. I’ve thought about that a lot lately. The Greek islands, or just circumnavigate the Med.”

“We don’t even know how to sail!” She shook her head in bewilderment. “I’m thirty-seven. I don’t think I’m there yet. I could go further in MI5,

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