Free The Sholes Key (An Evans & Blackwell Mystery #1) by Clarissa Draper Page B

fading in and out of view within. She wouldn’t sleep, not for another hour or so. He knew she wouldn’t. He could watch her; imagine what she was doing inside. If only she knew how much he cared for her, for her career.
    Someday, she would know. Someday, she would thank him.

Chapter 8

    Liam Foxton walked into Sophia’s building, stood at the intercom system and looked up at the CCTV camera. He knew this one action would cause him grief, but he had to appear to live there. He punched in a five-digit code, and when he heard the door buzz, entered the lobby.
    Although he had wished to visit Sophia’s flat, this was his first time—Sophia hadn’t wanted him there. Ever. He had rung his team to confirm Marc was at home and, to be on the safe side, he drove around her block of flats three times. Marc’s car wasn’t parked anywhere within walking distance. That should count for something.
    It didn’t. Sophia didn’t even smile when she opened the door. Or say hello.
    “You better have a good reason to be here,” she said between her teeth.
    “I thought you might like to know how I got on today.”
    That didn’t appease her.
    “Can I come in?” he said, looking behind her into the flat. She might have slammed the door in his face if it hadn’t been for the neighbor returning home that very minute. Instead, she stomped off into her kitchen.
    He entered and shut the door behind him.
    Her house was immaculate and modern in a sixties sort of way.
    “I love the yellow and brown design scheme you have here,” he said and followed her into the kitchen.
    “It has its problems.” She reached under the sink for an almost full bucket of water and dumped it into the sink. “What have you come to tell me?” she asked. She poured herself a cup of coffee then lifted the pot to him. He nodded. She poured him a cup. Even when she was mad and standing there in her lilac linen pajamas, she looked gorgeous.
    Best get to the point, he thought. “Do you have sugar?”
    Sophia reached into a top cupboard and pulled down a tin and from a drawer, a spoon.
    “How was your day?” he asked her.
    “Do you know why I don’t want you coming here?”
    “Because you hate me?” he said.
    “Because you have put my family, my mother and my father, at risk. Your job may be a game to you, but it’s not a game for me. It’s not a farce. It’s not lackadaisical. It’s dangerous. It’s—”
    “I won’t stay long. I just wanted to tell you what happened today.”
    “You couldn’t have done that by email or phone or mobile or text?” Sophia looked like she was on the verge of punching him in the face. She took a deep breath and said, “All right.” She led him to her sofa and they sat down. Crossing her hands in front of her on her lap, she smiled. “Tell me about your day, Liam.”
    “Our team had a busy day trying to gather information about Lorna McCauley. We bugged her flat, followed a DI Blackwell and his sidekick, He-Man, throughout London. Almost got discovered at an Italian restaurant but managed to get away in time.”
    “And?”
    “They still view it as a missing person’s case, not a murder.”
    “What did they say when you showed them the photo?” Her soft brown eyes examined his. He could hide nothing from her. “You didn’t tell them?”
    “We wanted to gather more information first.” He placed his hot mug down on her coffee table. She handed him a coaster.
    “Who? Who needed more information? We need to work with the police. How are they supposed to find a murderer if they don’t even know that’s what they’re faced with? When do you plan to show them what we have?”
    “Soon.”
    “When?”
    “Soon. As soon as I get permission to involve them, we’ll join forces.”
    “What have you found out about the men who chased me though the forest? They were men from your McFee case, weren’t they?” She stopped and stared at him. “You’re a bloody idiot. You invited me for lunch at the Moran last