Threemonthslater,HelenHobbs pushed through the doors of Bristol City’s law court offices and squinted against the bright, crisp December afternoon sky.
“You should consider a career in the police force,” DC Nazir said as she came up beside Helen, zipping up her coat. “The cyberunit could always use someone with your skills on their team full-time.”
The cyberunit had employed Helen to continue coding the software trap, and it eventually caught the criminals Jaxon Bates had been working for. Today, Helen had come to the law courts to go through the evidence with the prosecution team compiling the case. As for Jaxon, he’d pleaded guilty for a number of cybercrimes, as well as grievous bodily harm toward Helen and Divyesh Karsan and was sentenced to three years in prison.
The investigation into how Jaxon had given the police the slip that day had confirmed the police had done everything correctly—Jaxon had simply outsmarted them—but Nazir had personally apologized to Helen for failing to protect her. She’d later put Helen forward for the job with the cyberunit, which had really helped Helen’s finances—and given her kudos in the world of cybersecurity.
“If there’s ever more work coming up, I’ll let you know,” Nazir continued as they headed down the steps to the car waiting to take Nazir back to the police station. “I’ll put in a good word.”
“Thank you, and thanks for the testimonial, too.” Helen handed Nazir one of her shiny new Pendlebury Cybersecurity business cards. “I signed my first client yesterday.”
“Well done, Helen. That’s great news.”
“They’re just a tiny databank company based in Scotland, but it’s a start.”
“A very good start.”
“I hope so.”
Helen still needed all the money she could get. The sale for Pendlebury Manor was going through, but Mr. Roberts—that sweet, wonderful man—had managed to extended her lease for a further two years.
The new owners had agreed that it would take that long for planning permissions and refurbishments to be completed—but the best part? The buyers had changed their minds about building a new road next to her cottage. When Mr. Roberts had emailed her with the news, Helen burst into tears of joy—and had cried again when she’d told Tom and Emma.
Now, Helen had more time to gather the funds for her deposit and prove her earnings for a mortgage. Her income had been regular, increasing each month, and now that she’d signed her first official client, she was working hard to ensure more would follow.
Success isn’t randomwas now her new motto, which certainly had a more positive ring to it thanconfidence is the key to faking anything.
As Helen and Nazir reached the awaiting car, the driver—a man Helen immediately recognized—stepped out.
“Gary Grice. I wondered if I’d ever be seeing you again!”
“Likewise. I heard you were working with the cyberunit—and it’s Taylor. DI Paul Taylor.” He shook her hand as if meeting for the first time. “How you doing, Helen? Your bruises have healed.”
The external ones at least.
Helen was still having trouble sleeping. Alone in bed at night, sometimes all she could hear were Jaxon’s pounding footsteps and his heavy breathing as he came after her—until the memory of Sebastian punching him to the ground settled her heart rate.
Tom and Emma said it was posttraumatic stress, and yes, Helen was a lot jumpier and more cautious than she used to be, but truth was, her sleepless nights were due to missing Sebastian. The bruise left from his absence never seemed to get any less sore.
But she and Sebastian had done the right thing in agreeing to remain friends. They texted often, almost daily, but lying next to her phone at night wasn’t the same as being wrapped up in Sebastian’s hot body—not that they ever talked about being wrapped up in each other’s bodies anymore. They were friends, very good friends, but that was all.
Helen looked Grice—Paul Taylor—up and down, taking in his suit and neatly cut hair. “So were the wife and kids and growing up in South London all made up?”
“’Fraid so.” Taylor grinned sheepishly. “And how is Loverboy?”
Glancing at Nazir then back to Taylor, Helen shrugged. “He’s okay. He’s got some major competition next month so he’s training six days a week.”
“All those muscles.” Taylor shook his head. “But the guy’s just like the rest of us mortals, pouring his heart and soul out over the love of his life.”
“What do you mean?” Helen asked.
“When you were out cold? I’ve never seen anyone look so scared over a concussion and sprained ankle. Confessing his undying love to you when—” Taylor glanced between Helen and Nazir. Helen’s pulse was racing and Nazir was biting at her lip. “What? Why do I get the feeling I’ve put my foot in where it doesn’t belong?”
“Because Helen and Sebastian are no longer together,” Nazir said. Turning to Helen, she added, “Now you know why we chose him to play the irritating journalist.”
Helen tried to laugh, but she was still too stunned.
Sebastian had said he loved her?
