‘No, you don’t understand, about Tanya …’ Luke began, hoping if he could just get Nathan to hear him out he would understand the situation and maybe talk Cat into coming back from wherever she was.
‘Forget it, I’m not interested. What’s done is done,’ Nathan said with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘Just leave, will you? Before I call security and have you escorted off the premises.’
Luke watched his long strides back towards his office and saw the door close. He left the hotel, stepping out into the grey morning. Yes, he would get on with his life, he told himself, but there was no way he would forget Cat. Not now. Not ever. She would come back eventually and when she did he would be waiting.
Leaving Tarwin House, Luke’s next destination was Arcadia Motors. He was back and ready to work. He’d expected Gareth to be in touch to talk about his return but maybe he’d been busy.
As soon as he stepped through the main doors and walked past the vehicles on display he sensed something was wrong. Serious faces looked up at his approach, giving him a nod of recognition before promptly returning to their work. Reaching Gareth’s door, he knocked and entered. The man behind the desk was nothing like the smart-suited individual who normally occupied this office. He looked world-weary and hung over, his clothes crumpled; a swathe of stubble graced his chin as he stared into a large glass of whisky on the desk in front of him.
‘Gareth? Whatever’s happened?’
‘They’ve arrested Evie for Marika’s murder,’ he said in a tired voice, his gaze still fixed on the amber liquid in his glass.
Luke released a heavy breath as he moved into the room and closed the door. So much had been going on in his own life during the last twenty-four hours he had lost touch with the real world. He’d assumed his release meant they were back to square one with the investigation, but an arrest so soon? And Evie of all people? As he had been stepping away from his nightmare his uncle had been walking into one of his own.
‘I don’t understand. Why Evie?’
‘They found her bracelet on the beach near to where the body was discovered. I told her to wait for a lawyer but she wouldn’t. She went ahead and admitted being there and attacking Marika. Stupid, stupid woman,’ Gareth growled into his glass before taking another slug of whisky and fixing bloodshot eyes on Luke. ‘Anyway, what brings you here?’
‘A return to work. I thought I’d call in to see you first though.’
‘I don’t think so, Luke. At the moment I don’t want you here. My wife’s in custody, my shit of a son’s gone AWOL. It’s a total bloody mess and the last thing I want is seeing you every day as a reminder of how this all started. Don’t worry, you’re still on payroll. So why don’t you bugger off for a while? Take a holiday? You must need it after what you’ve been through. Maybe in a few weeks I’ll feel more like seeing your ugly face, but for now you’re on gardening leave. Isn’t that the politically correct phrase they use for people who’ve been suspended?’ He gave a mirthless laugh as he slugged back another mouthful of whisky. ‘Gardening leave. Who thought that one up, eh?’
Luke shook his head. He owed Gareth big time and wasn’t about to give up on a man struggling to cope, even if he was currently pushing him away.
‘Okay, but you know where I am if you need me,’ he said quietly.
Gareth was silent. As Luke reached the door he turned back to look at him. Lost in his misery, he grabbed the whisky bottle and poured himself another large shot. ‘Go on, get out of here,’ he said waving him away.
Jordan sat in a dark corner of The Smugglers nursing a half empty bottle of lager. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here or how much he had consumed, his intention was to get thoroughly smashed. Only then could he have some peace, drift awayinto darkness and free himself from the day from hell he had just experienced. His mother had been charged with Marika’s murder. Locked away in Truro Police Station’s custody suite, she was currently awaiting her first court appearance
In a daze after seeing her being driven away and hearing the news, he’d found himself the subject of his father’s ferocious anger. Gareth had paced up and down throwing accusations at him. He was useless, over-indulged, irresponsible and totally to blame for everything that had happened that day. This tirade ended with him being told to pack and leave. Apparently his father couldn’t bear the sight of him any longer. He was on his own. He shrugged off the insults. His father was always having a rant about something or other. He’d pack a bag and get Ed, Spence or Daniel to put him up until his father’s anger had eventually burnt out and it was safe to return. Unfortunately what he didn’t anticipate was the Carrenporth grapevine, which had overnight turned him from rich waster into a social pariah of the first order. As a result his friends refused to talk to him and Chantelle had booted him out of her life with a short sharp text message.
His situation was dire. His father hated him, his friends and his girlfriend had abandoned him; there was nowhere he could go. Well there was one place. The Smugglers. Which is where he was now, tucked in a shadowy corner away from the other customers, numbing the pain by drinking himself into oblivion. He raised the bottle to his lips and drank back the last of his beer, then pushing himself unsteadily to his feet, he headed to the bar for another.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The sound of hammering brought Luke back to consciousness. He rubbed a hand across his eyes, struggling to sit up in bed as he tried to clear the fog from his brain. Like Gareth, he had opted for alcohol to obliterate the events of the last twenty-four hours: the loss of Cat who was now God knows where, and being suspended on full pay by an uncle who currently didn’t want him around. Now he was fully awake the banging continued. It meant the noise wasn’t alcohol induced; someone was trying to batter down his front door.
He dragged on his jeans and went downstairs. Before he left the bedroom he shot a quick look at the radio alarm: eleven thirty. Who the hell could it be at this time of night? He hesitated as he reached the door, which appeared to shudder under the constant pounding on the other side. Concerned at what trouble he might be letting into the house, he called out.
‘Will you stop trying to break my door down, whoever you are?’
‘It’s Jed from The Smugglers,’ came the muffled reply on the other side. ‘I need you to come straight away.’
Luke shot back the bolts and swung open the door.
‘Jed?’ He peered at the thickset man, the yellow glow from the street light wrapping an eerie halo around him. ‘Have you any idea of the time?’
The publican nodded. ‘Sorry to wake you, Luke, I couldn’t think of anyone else.’
‘Why, what’s wrong?’
‘Your cousin. He’s dead drunk and in my pub.’
Luke stepped back, feeling irritation begin to bubble. Why was Jordan Hunter suddenly his responsibility? ‘Sorry, Jed, not my problem. Get those so-called mates of his to take him home.’He started to close the door but the publican put a beefy arm out to stop him.
‘The thing is, Luke, they’re not there any more. Since Evie’s arrest they all seem to have done a runner.’
