Sins of the Father Read online

  Brad relaxed again, now that the storm had passed. “Good to meet you. I’m being paid to protect one of the stars of this gig, so if you need me I’ll be right over there.” He was rewarded by her appealing giggle.

  “You’ve just redeemed yourself, shadow man.” She looked over her shoulder when she heard someone call her name. “I’d better get back.”

  Brad watched her walk away. He had known coming into the assignment that the rules were different, that it would require a certain amount of flexibility when it came to Alicia. He was fine with that. What he wasn’t comfortable with was the alarming desire to kiss that pretty mouth, especially when she was ranting at him – eyes flashing and lips moving in almost hypnotic suggestion.

  He’d enjoyed her comment about the stereotype, she was refreshingly sharp. It amused him all the more because he was doing what any typecast fledgling would do – falling for the actress.

  ***

  After a long morning on set, the whole crew were starting to feel the pressure. The sun beat down, as relentless as a burning ball of rage. Brad felt their mood, but it had nothing to do with the climate. He barely even noticed the temperature or the orange ball in the sky. He’d suffered through the foulest of weather in Iraq, and nothing compared to the tightening in his chest whenever he looked at Alicia Gladstone.

  He contemplated backing out as lead on the case and praying on his partner’s better side. He’d promised Kelvin he would face his demons head on, but every part of him screamed to walk away. He was accustomed to controlling his emotions, or curbing impulses, but he hadn’t been prepared for their first meeting. It wasn’t just his unexpected attraction to her – he just hadn’t expected her to look so much like Helen. The photograph hid some of the subtleties he could see in her face.

  “Can I get you anything, Brad?”

  Brad turned towards Tim Johnson with an easy smile. “I’m fine, but thanks.”

  He watched Johnson walk across to the refreshments cab where everyone now congregated. He knew Alicia was among them, of that he was acutely aware. Not because of his training, but because he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He’d tried.

  Johnson was having the same reaction, he was practically drooling when she threw the poor man a bone and stopped to chat.

  He observed her body language, saw that she was relaxed and holding up a lot better than most of her co-stars. She’d pulled her hair back into a loose tail, and changed into a vest top that hugged close to her small waist. Even restrained, her glossy black hair looked inviting – almost every man in the country longed to run his fingers through it. He was no exception.

  It was a welcome relief when his mobile vibrated silently in his pocket. “Morgan,” he spoke through his hands free device.

  “Hey, sugar,” Susannah drawled.

  Brad relaxed a little at hearing her voice. “Suez, just the person I wanted to speak to.”

  “All right, what do you want looking up?”

  He laughed. It was not difficult to imagine her scowl. “I need you to get me everything you can on Jack Murphy; a full background.” Something told him there was a reason Jack was targeted.

  “Sure, consider it done. How’s it going? Are you having fun, brushing shoulders with the rich and famous?”

  “Why, do you want to trade?”

  “Oh, no… you’re not getting out of it that easily. Suck it up, big man. I’ll call you when I’ve got something.”

  “Thanks.”

  He sought Alicia out again as he terminated the call. She was still talking to Johnson, and appeared thoroughly entertained. He was starting to suspect his initial view of her was a little off the mark. He hadn’t seen any indication that she was the Prima Donna people reported her to be. She didn’t have an army of people taking care of her every whim. That aspect of her life, if nothing else, was inaccurate.

  As though conscious of his attention Alicia glanced across. She turned briefly to respond to someone over her shoulder. When he could see her face again, he was surprised by the goofy expression. He’d never seen that look on Helen’s face. There were other subtle differences too. Helen radiated the kind of chill that could freeze a man mid-stride, whereas Alicia seemed to glow with the kind of warmth that shone from the inside out. It was probably why, in terms of beauty, Helen didn’t hold a candle.

  He watched as she accepted two cups from a member of the crew and started walking in his direction. “I know Tim already asked, but I thought you might like a coffee.” She held out her offering.

  He took it with a smile. “Thanks.”

  She reached into her back pocket with the free hand and brought out a scrunched piece of paper. “This is my schedule for the next few days.”

  “I appreciate that.” Brad’s eyebrows rose when he saw the list penned in italic script.

  “It doesn’t look like I do an awful lot, does it?” She smiled self-consciously, catching him off guard.

  “I imagine this takes up most of your time.”

  “I cancelled some of my engagements. I can’t get out of the photo shoot, or the interview I’m doing for local radio. Its part of the promotion for a short I did last year.”

  Brad folded the paper and placed it in his own pocket. “I’m not here to interfere with your plans, just to make sure you’re not in danger.”

  “Speaking of which, Stuart organised a dressing room for you in the main building. I’d like to stay in the trailer unless it’s going to be a problem.”

  “That’s fine. A member of my team will be taking the night shift – it doesn’t matter where you’re located as long as they can protect you.” He wanted to ask about her choice of accommodation but he didn’t.

  Alicia frowned; she didn’t see why it was necessary to have a guard posted throughout the night. “What about site security? I believe they patrol the area.”

  “They do, but we provide a personal protection service that’s around the clock. We’ll be coordinating with the main team - I’ve known Donovan for years so don’t worry, I won’t rock the boat.”

  Brad looked over her shoulder when he caught sight of a harassed deliveryman hurrying their way. He stepped forward, relieving the man of the package and setting it on the ground.

  “This was delivered for you, Miss Gladstone,” he said, looking from one to the other in obvious confusion.

  “Thanks, Tom.”

  “Who’s it from?” Brad asked, seeing no identifying label on the box.

  “I don’t know. Sid, at the gate, signed for it. I think he said UPS delivered.”

  Alicia smiled. “That’s great, thanks for bringing it.”

  “Sure.” Tom’s eyes darted to Brad before he hurried off, relief flooding his face.

  “What’s wrong?” she turned to him.

  “I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. Are you expecting a delivery?”

  “Not that I know of, but people send me things all the time. They usually go through Sarah. She’ll be by later so I can ask her about it.”

  “How often do you deal with items personally?”

  Alicia thought for a moment. He was scaring her a little, especially since she couldn’t remember an occasion that she had. Everything went through the production office. “I don’t. Not on set anyway.”

  “If that’s the case I’ll ask a member of my team to stop by with some equipment. I’d like to scan it over just to be sure.”

  “You’re thinking it’s from my admirer.”

  Brad grinned at her choice of words. “I’m thinking it’s a possibility. Someone out there wants to play with your head. This could be the next step.”

  “Okay, as much as I like surprises, I’ll leave it with you.” She waited for that terrific smile again, but his head was in a different place.

  “Al, have you got a minute?” Stuart called to her from behind one of the monitors. It looked serious, judging from his expression.

  “Sorry, I’d better get back.”

  “Okay. When you’r
e ready I’ll accompany you to the hospital.” It was the first thing on her list; Jack Murphy’s name appeared several times.

  “Thanks.”

  He waited until she’d joined Stuart Mansfield before grabbing one of the chairs he’d adopted. With one eye on the action in front of him, he used the other to rig up his laptop and put a call through to his partner.

  “How’s it going, big man?” Kelvin asked. His face almost filled the screen.

  “Alicia received a package and I’d like someone to check it over. How’re you fixed?”

  “What no preamble? We’re cutting out the pleasantries completely?”

  Brad ignored him. “I have a hunch this is the next stage in his plan.”

  He heard the bounce of keys, and saw that Kelvin was reading something from a different screen. After a moment, he turned back to the camera. “Okay, I’ll bring the equipment over as soon as. How’s it going so far?”

  “Not great.”

  “Better than I expected.” Kelvin grinned – his image spiked for a moment when he turned to respond to someone in the background.

  “And the jokes just keep coming. See you soon.”

  “Later.”

  Brad closed his system and sat back to drink cold coffee. His observations so far told him the crew were harmless enough. The only person he hadn’t decided about was the dialect coach, a man named Thomas Morley. There was something about the man he didn’t like; something felt off about the way his eyes darted around. He avoided eye contact in a way that said to Brad he had something to hide.

  He searched the lot, trying to locate him. It was possible he was working with a member of the cast; he’d seen him talking to the script supervisor. The mental to do list in his head was getting longer, but he made catching up with Thomas Morley a priority.

  Chapter 7

  Alicia stood under the cold spray, revelling in the way it cooled her skin. She was on a deadline so she didn’t have time to waste languishing in the shower. First on her list was a visit to her brother, but she’d already convinced herself a few extra minutes wouldn’t hurt.

  The fact that Brad was out there somewhere, made her stomach flutter nervously. She could see him standing to attention like a sentry on guard; he had a quiet strength about him that she admired.

  When she was tempted to stretch her few minutes into several more, she turned off the shower and reached for a towel. Without the sound of running water to mask the sound, she could hear her mobile chirping away in the other room. It was her private line, so her mind automatically jumped to Jack and had her rushing through to pick it up.

  She didn’t even look at the display. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Alicia.”

  Her heart rammed hard against her chest. The voice was artificial, a synthesised replica of the real thing. It didn’t take a genius to guess who it was. “What do you want?” She was surprised at how level her voice sounded.

  “So much for the Gladstone charm I’ve read so much about. Did you like your gift? I put a lot of thought into it.”

  Her heart kicked up a notch – Brad had been right about the parcel. She dug deep to find the anger disguising itself as a hard ball in her stomach. It wouldn’t do to give the sick son of a bitch a platform for his dramatics.

  “Got to hell.” She slammed the phone shut, feeling good about regaining some of the control. ‘See how you like this,’ she muttered and ripped the battery out. It was satisfying to imagine his frustration when he called back. The annoyingly pithy tone informing him she was unreachable had to hurt a little.

  With forced calm, she walked to the bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt. The adrenaline was starting to work its way through her system. It made her hands unsteady, so instead of pulling her hair back she ran a comb through it as she headed for the door.

  As she pulled it towards her, Brad was on the other side about to rap his knuckles on the smooth surface. It caught them both by surprise - Alicia with one foot posed to exit and Brad’s fist suspended in mid-air.

  “We…”

  “I…”

  The laugh escaped her before she could stop it; she was feeling a little giddy. “You first.”

  It took him a moment to form a coherent sentence. He was mesmerised by the way she looked, it never stopped taking him by surprise. Her hair was damp and hung around her shoulders in silky waves. The image of her in the shower was as distracting as hell.

  “We scanned the parcel. I thought you’d like to know.”

  “It’s from him, or at least I think it’s a him...the voice was disguised. It sounded like a man.” Alicia was embarrassed to find herself babbling.

  She watched the storm play across his face, fascinated by the speed in which he controlled it. “He called you?”

  “Yes, he rang to brag about the gift, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction. Hang on.” She ducked back inside to retrieve her phone. “It’s my private line, so I have no idea how he got his hands on the number.” She passed him the phone.

  “There’s a model of some kind inside the box. We detected a toy car, and judging from the dimensions it’s probably a replica of your own. There are no electrical components or hazardous materials, so it’s safe to open.” He waited for her to secure the lock, a recent precaution, before leading her across set. “I have a make-shift office set up if you want to take a look. My partner, Kelvin Fairchild, has given the all clear.”

  “I’m tempted to destroy it, but I have to admit I’m curious.”

  His responding grin was infectious; it gave her a feeling of alliance. She watched with interest when he replaced the battery in her phone and began punching numbers; his long fingers gliding with a familiar ease over the keypad. After a brief scan of the screen, he dismantled it again and dropped it into his pocket before retrieving his own.

  “Hello, Cherie. I need a favour. Yes, I know. All in good time, learn a little patience.”

  Alicia surmised he was talking to a member of his team. He was actually using a hands free device she hadn’t noticed. His hair fell over his ears, cleverly disguising the equipment - to an observer it would appear that he was talking to her. She listened as he read out her mobile number.

  “I need you to put a trace on a call. Yes, it just came in. Okay, sure, thanks.” He looked across at Alicia. “Susannah will inform Abe about the breach in protocol. There has to be some reason the package made its way to you without going through normal channels.”

  She could only nod; she was already writing how the scene would play out. It was a habit.

  They had arrived at the building which housed the dressing rooms. She allowed Brad to lead her to his own section of the premises. The closer they got the more her nerves kicked in; she had to quiet the voice that told her to dispose of the package without opening it.

  All thoughts went out of her head as soon as she spotted the man sitting in one of the easy chairs. The legs that were stretched out in front of him looked like the branches of a great tree. His hair was cut close to his head, military style; it suited him. A pair of light brown eyes, the colour of honey, stared back at her with some amusement.

  “Wow, do they keep all marines in grow bags?” she said, as he got lazily to his feet and stood towering above her.

  “No, we just eat our enemies!”

  Alicia laughed, liking him instantly. “You must be Kelvin.”

  His lips curved to display a row of pearly white teeth. “And you, Miss Gladstone, are lovelier in real life.” He sounded genuine, and she was oddly touched.

  “See I was just thinking how much I liked you and you’ve just sealed the deal.”

  Kelvin threw his head back and whooped with delight. She was his kind of woman. “I like your style.” He took her hand so he could plant a kiss on her knuckles. “I’m enchanted.”

  Brad stepped forward, and immediately the space got smaller. “Alicia just got a phone call from her number one fan, or maybe her number two judging by the expressi
on on your face.”

  “Easy there, big guy.” Kelvin threw his friend an impish grin.

  Alicia couldn’t stop the giggle. It was harder when she saw the muscle work in Brad’s jaw, betraying his irritation.

  Kelvin continued regardless of his friend’s sour expression. “I presume you ordered a trace?”

  “Yes. It’s worth a shot.”

  “I agree. But right now we have other things to deal with. Why don’t we look in box number one to see what kind of sicko we’re dealing with?”

  Alicia stepped towards the desk where the package loomed ominously in the centre. The way they all focused on it acted like a kind of spotlight. The drum roll she heard in her head was probably overkill.

  “Here, let me help.” Brad appeared beside her. He’d caught the slight tremor as she picked at the sellotape. In one swift motion, he dragged a knife down the centre and pulled back the tabs.

  “Thanks.” Alicia dug into the packaging and lifted the model out before she could change her mind. It resembled an A-level art project – one that didn’t make the grade. She placed it on the desk so they could all take a better look.

  She tried to look at the board objectively; the sculptor had created a street scene with a Mini Coupe at the centre of it. The toy car had lost a fight with some heavy-handed equipment, and judging from the smashed, half-missing windscreen it had to be a hammer.

  The really sickening part was the small figure lying face down in front of the car. Whoever created the macabre set piece had clearly wanted to work to scale, using improvisation to create the illusion. The figure had hair the colour and style of Alicia’s; she had to swallow a lump in her throat when she realised the hair was real.

  “This is one sick son of a…” Kelvin started to say.

  “He’s just playing at this point.” Brad interrupted. “This is part of the entertainment. I don’t think he’s got any intention of recreating the scene.”

  “Yeah, if we’re talking box of tricks he’s already used that one.” Alicia tried to cover the quiver in her voice and failed miserably.