Masters And Lovers 1-4 novel Chapter 30

James

My phone rings. Richard’s avatar flashes up. Klempner glances at it then passes it to me. “Answer it. Put it on loudspeaker.”

I talk quickly. “Richard, before you say anything, Klempner’s here.”

There’s a silence, then. “James, are you being held hostage? Has he…?”

“I'm not hurt if that's what you're asking, but no, I'm not exactly on top of the situation. He’s listening to what we say.” I cast a glance to Klempner, but he simply raises brows, folding his arms and sitting back.

“Have you spoken to Charlotte?” I ask.

Richard pauses. “No, I've not spoken to her. I got hold of Michael, some while ago, but I couldn’t get through to her. She wasn’t answering her phone.”

So, who…?

“Someone’s warned her. Or so it seems. She’s vanished, along with her mother and Kirstie. Is Beth okay?”

Another short silence. “Yes, Elizabeth is safely out of the way.”

Klempner snorts, then speaking loudly, “I'm not interested in your cringing wife, Haswell.”

Richard’s voice is austere. “You'll forgive me if I err on the side of caution.”

Klempner shrugs and looks away. “Your call.”

“Richard,” I say. “Look for the women. Now ring off.”

And the phone goes dead.

From the front, Baxter says, “Sir, we’re here.” The car crunches onto the parking lot of a closed-down motel.

“Round the back,” says Klempner. The car glides quietly to an area away from the road…

Dark…

Isolated…

No witnesses…

*Breathe*

Baxter parks up, indicating a door. “It’s in there, sir. It’s not overlooked. You can make yourself comfortable.” Pulling a key from his pocket he unlocks it and leads the way in to a small suite of the kind you would find in any motel: somewhere to sleep and wash and eat.

Klempner sits then lays my phone and his on a small table, within easy reach. “Sit down, James, while we wait.”

“There’s beer in the fridge, sir, if you want one.”

“Is there any coffee?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll have that. James?”

“Coffee for me too.”

The coffee arrives in a cheap mug and it’s not so strong as I like it, but I gulp it back. Klempner cocks a brow. “Another?”

“Please.”

He sits back, watching me, eyes half lowered. “James, please try to relax. Perhaps you would like something to eat? I imagine you missed dinner?”

Dinner…

It’s odd how the mind protects itself, distracts us with irrelevancies at stressful moments.

Klempner inclines his head. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“What?” His eyes drill into me.

“Before I came out of the house, I’d just put something in the oven. I can’t remember if I switched off the stove or not.” I shrug, feeling a fool. “Hardly seemed the moment to mention it.”

Baxter interrupts. “I turned off the oven. The roast was done to a turn. Very good too. Great potatoes. Crunchy outside. Nice and squishy inside. And there was just the right amount of thyme on the roast…”

Klempner stares at it him as he rambles on.

So do I. “You stole my dinner?”

He sniffs, shrugs. “No point letting it go to waste. Too much garlic for my taste though.”

“You break into my home, threaten me, abduct me and to crown it, you stole my fucking dinner?”

Muttering something under his breath, Klempner raises eyes to heaven, muttering. “So much for professionalism. Is this relevant?”

Part of me is indignant. Part of me is still scared shitless

But a part of me is doubled over laughing, my fear dissolving.