“Porsche Panamera,” she said. “Black, naturally.”
“That seems a little fast and loose for Buckingham.” I had to admit I was impressed. The Porsche wasn’t just another armored vehicle. It had some style to it, as well as three millimeters of ballistic steel on its roof and floor board in addition to its bulletproof exterior. It was a good choice for someone who drove around the Queen, but not the safest on the market.
“He tried to get me in a Mulsanne, but I told him I wasn’t on my way to the Care Home yet, so he had to budge.”
“The Mulsanne is safer,” I said with a shrug. “It would have been my choice.”
Georgia whipped around to stare at me, her dark eyes, rimmed in coal-black liner, narrowed like she was dissecting me.
“What?” I shrugged.
“I’m trying to decide if you’ve been replaced by an imposter. The Smith Price I know would never choose that Bentley over a Porsche,” she said.
“I have different priorities now.”
“I guess we all have to grow up someday.” But she sounded less than enthused about my sudden maturity. “Did Belle take your balls as well as the keys to the Bugatti?”
“She wouldn’t let me sell the Bugatti. She’s rather attached to it.” I’d been willing to part with my former daily car, which would have nearly paid for our new home entirely, but my wife wouldn’t hear of it. Given the memories we’d made in it, I couldn’t exactly blame her. But that didn’t mean we’d be bringing our baby home in its boot. “We got a Range Rover. It made sense.”
“If you’re going to keep being so bloody rational, I’m going to need a drink, or at least a good whipping,” she said, but there was an edge of laughter in her voice.
Could it be that Georgia Kincaid found this funny? Maybe even charming?
She really had softened up during her time with Clara.
I raised my hand to call over the waiter, who appeared with the promptness of a man who recognized when alcohol was necessary. I ordered two Macallans and he disappeared to the bar.
“So, what brings you to London?” Georgia asked, leaning back in her seat.
“I can’t visit?”
“I thought your entire plan was to get your wife as far away from this mess as possible before she shot out your progeny. Isn’t she due any minute?”
“The doctor said it’s likely she’ll go past dates since it's our first.” Until my wife had gotten pregnant, I thought I knew everything there was to know about her body, having made an extensive study of it. The past few months had proven me wrong.
“And you were dying to catch up with me?” Georgia enjoyed baiting the hook. If the situation called for it, she could be direct to the point of painfulness. But if you came to her, clearly wanting something, she was going to make you work for it. It was her way.
“I need a favor.” There was no point in continuing with the pleasantries. We were both busy people, and while she might be considered my oldest friend, we’d never exactly confided in one another.
“A favor? I’m shocked.” She smiled up at the waiter as he dropped off the Scotch, and the poor man nearly tripped over his own feet. I could never tell if the way men reacted to her was out of lust or survival instinct—or some primitive combination of the two.
“They found something at my house.”
“Sounds ominous,” she admitted.
“Bones.”
Her glass paused mid-way to her mouth, an eyebrow arching. “Bones?”
“Of the human variety,” I answered her unspoken question. “The local police don’t think anything of it.”
“Isn’t it like a million years-old? There’s bound to be a few bodies in the basement.” Her slender shoulder lifted and I was reminded of a time when I could have been so nonchalant about a discovery of this nature.
“I would have said the same thing, but the Detective said something that made me wonder if they left something out of the real estate listing.” I recounted my conversation with Longborn to her.
“It sounds like country superstitions, Sterling,” she said when I finished.
She had a point. I’d been telling myself the same thing all day. “It probably is, but I suppose I’d rather know what I’m dealing with than listen to rumors.”
“Are you asking me to find out if your house is haunted?” There was the bluntness I knew her for.
“I’m asking you to find out about its history,” I clarified. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“If you don’t believe in ghosts, then just see it for what it is: a pile of bones in an old house.” She sipped her drink, her eyes shutting as realization dawned on her. “It scared her, didn’t it?”
“A little.” It felt like a betrayal to reveal that Belle had been upset by the discovery. She wouldn’t want Georgia to see any weakness in her. “She’s uncertain about the move. I’d rather not have any more surprises. If we know exactly what we’re dealing with, we can avoid that.”
“I’ll look into it.” Georgia placed her glass on the table and folded her hands, taking a deep breath. “There’s something else I should tell you.”
I braced myself for whatever bomb she was going to drop. With Georgia, I never knew what to expect, only that there would be fallout.
“I’m not sure you’re going to be happy about this…”
“What?” I growled.
“Just, remember not to shoot the messenger. It’s about your place in Holland Park.”
“What about it?” I asked slowly. Belle had met up with Edward as soon as we arrived, and I’d been focused on tying up loose ends in the city. We hadn’t been to our townhouse yet, but given that Thornham would be uninhabitable for days if not weeks, we’d planned to meet there this evening.
“You should see for yourself,” Georgia warned me, “and, Price, you probably want your wife to see it, too.”
6
Belle
It’s never reassuring to get a phone call from your husband telling you he’ll be picking you up in five minutes. I had no idea how Smith knew I was at CoCo’s with Edward. I told myself he’d simply remembered that I used to frequent the Notting Hill restaurant with my friends back in the day. But Smith and I had barely known each other then, and try as I might to dismiss his brusque demand, I suspected he was tracking my phone. After what had happened to Clara, I understood his paranoia. Truth be told, I almost appreciated it. But we weren’t high-value public figures. People didn’t know who we were and our enemies were dead. At times, I had to remind myself that old habits die hard. The longer we continued living in peace, the more it would soothe my husband. I just had to put up with a little over-protectiveness until then.
“Come with us,” I urged Edward as we stepped onto the sidewalk outside. I flipped the collar of my coat up against the light drizzle that had started while we were inside gorging on fettuccine.
Edward paused, as though he was honestly considering it, before shaking his head. “I’m not sure being around a happily married couple is the best idea for me right now. No matter how much I love you.”