The Unquiet Dead Read online

  Rachel’s sudden smile was unguarded. She looked up to find Nathan’s attention upon her. “Wearing the scarf is an art, I’m told.”

  He responded in kind. “The art Audrey favors most is drama. It’s there in everything she does, even her choice of profession.”

  “You’re an actor?” Rachel asked.

  There was another delighted spurt of laughter.

  “Nate loves to tease. No, I run a small NGO working with women. I went to university and then I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t possibly live up to Nathan’s prestige but I thought, here’s something I can do. I embroil him in it constantly but I secretly think he uses it as material for his books.”

  “Then he’s overdue,” Rachel said, feeling her way. “It’s been some time since Apologia was published. Have you been working on something new?”

  It was an innocuous question. There was no reason why it should have sent the conversation crashing to the ground. She looked from one face to another, puzzled. Khattak’s gaze found the window. Audrey bit her lip. Nathan cleared his throat, searching for words.

  “I’ve—not been writing much lately. It seems I can’t find anything else to say.”

  It was clear that he addressed these words to Khattak. They were met with silence.

  “Writer’s block?” Rachel ventured, though common sense told her to drop the subject. “It’s sort of an occupational hazard, isn’t it?”

  “Like drunken domestics for police officers,” he agreed.

  Rachel stiffened. His guileless eyes—lovely eyes, really, flecked with bits of bronze and green—indicated it was a random hit.

  “All in a day’s work,” she repeated.

  “I hear you’re investigating Chris Drayton’s fall.” It was meant by Audrey as a change of subject. Khattak took it as such.

  “There are some leads we’re following up,” he said to Nate. “Some unresolved questions as to background and finances. I’ve been wondering about that dinner you mentioned—the one you arranged for Drayton to speak about the museum.”

  “I’ve seen your car at Mink’s house a few times this week. So it’s the museum that interests you.”

  This was news to Rachel. Khattak hadn’t mentioned it to her, and she wondered why. He was often reticent at the beginning of an investigation but seldom secretive.

  “She’s an interesting woman,” he said without emphasis.

  Nate stared across the table at him, a sudden glint of discovery in his eyes.

  “Fascinating is how I would put it. If she’s with a potential donor for less than half an hour, she doesn’t leave empty-handed.”

  “You set up the dinner specifically for the museum, then.”

  “Not exactly. It was Chris who asked me to arrange it. He was adamant about getting on the board of the museum. He thought of it as a prestige project, something that a man at his stage of life should attach himself to. He was willing to pay his way in. Mink was somewhat resistant to the idea, so Chris thought a dinner might soften her up.”

  “I’d have thought she’d welcome an influx of money,” said Rachel. “The upkeep on that place can’t be cheap.”

  “It’s not. The house is worth upwards of a million dollars. Most of the exhibits were already in Mink’s possession, but if she wanted to expand, Drayton’s investment certainly wouldn’t have hurt. And from his perspective, gaining a reputation as patron of the arts was essential to his sense of himself.”

  “How long has Ringsong been here? Inspector Khattak said he hadn’t seen it before. In the past, I mean. Whenever you saw each other last.”

  She stumbled over the words, aware that she’d inadvertently trespassed.

  Nate rescued her. “It’s been about two years. A year to build and a year for Mink to get the museum on its feet. It’s due to open very soon, so I know this phase of things is critical.”

  “Do you expect it to open on time?” Rachel asked. Probably Khattak had asked Mink the same questions. She still wanted to hear. “Would there be any reason for Drayton’s death to delay it?”

  “I can’t think of any. Mink is very capable. I’ve never known her to run overbudget or behind schedule.”

  “And did you make a contribution, sir?”

  “Please. At least call me Nathan. Or Nate if you like, all my friends do. It was Andalusia,” he said with a fond glance at Khattak. “The golden age. How could I not?”

  “You sound as though you and Ms. Norman are quite close.”

  It was a question pertinent to the investigation. Somehow it came out sounding as if Rachel were jealous. She found herself blushing. Khattak, too, appeared oddly interested in the answer.

  Nathan’s glance traveled between them, a suspicion of mirth in it.

  “I wouldn’t say I’ve spent as much time at Ringsong in one week as Esa has but yes, we’re friends. I find the project mesmerizing: Mink’s passion for it is contagious. And it’s been good for the girls too—Hadley and Cass. It’s saved them from being used as ammunition between their parents and it’s given them a sense of purpose. Mink knows how to make people feel valued. It’s certainly given Marco more freedom to hang about.”

  “Riv,” Audrey corrected.

  “I refuse to call a seventeen-year-old boy Riv when he has a perfectly acceptable first name.”

  Audrey punched him good-naturedly in the arm. She opened her mouth to respond when the door to the pub gave way, divulging a new group of patrons. Her face froze in an expression of dismay. In a swift gesture under the table, she pressed her brother’s hand.

  Rachel swiveled in her seat. The new arrivals were a group of cops, mostly in uniform. They laughed and talked easily, stopping at the bar to give their order. In their midst was an extraordinarily beautiful woman whose dazzling features and wickedly curved body drew the eye of every man in the room. She was dramatically dark-eyed and dark-lashed, raindrops clinging to her hair and gliding down the silky skin of her cheek. She wore a skin-tight dress made of some metallic material that gathered the light inward and clung to every curve. With a sexy pout, she bent before the fire to warm her hands.

  It was like a bomb had gone off, sucking all the air from the room.

  Conversations were suddenly louder, her companions jostled each other to get close to her. Her smile beguiled: her movements were sinfully lithe as she touched one man’s cheek, ruffled another’s hair, squeezed the elbow of a third.

  Was Rachel imagining it or were there sparks of electricity in the waves of her jet-black hair?

  The woman looked over and caught them watching her. She checked mid-movement, disentangled herself from her companions, and made her way to their table, where she dismissed Rachel and Audrey without a second glance.

  “Look who’s here!” Of course her voice would be low and throaty. She leaned over the table, enveloping them in the musk of her perfume. Her smile glittered between the heavy wings of her hair.

  “Nathan, darling! More devastating than ever!”

  She turned the other way, saw Khattak, widened her black eyes fractionally and sailed on. “The old gang, together again. How perfectly wonderful! You’ve brought along a plaything, I see.” Her sleek white hand pointed at Rachel, the dark eyes sweeping over her and away. “Not up to your usual standard, Esa.” She dragged the name out, catching her tongue between her teeth. “I hope you boys aren’t fighting over her the way you fought over me.”

  Her laugh was a sexy growl in her throat. She accompanied it with a pivot of her hip, thrusting her décolletage at Nate. “Have you missed me? You never have me anymore.” She brought her hand to her lush mouth, miming dismay. “I meant, you never have me over anymore. Surely my portrait doesn’t warm your bed?”

  Rachel choked on the heady scent that clung to the woman, just able to discern the contempt on Audrey’s face through the cloud of fragrance around her.

  “You’re drunk, Laine,” Nathan said with disgust. “Go back to your friends.”

  “I thought I
was among friends,” she purred in return. “Don’t you remember how to be friendly, darling? Don’t you remember lying on your back and begging me not to stop? Or was that you?” Whiplash quick, she turned to Esa. “Men! So easily interchangeable, so easy to forget.” Before Esa could object, she leaned down and kissed him full on the lips. “There! I thought I remembered you. As decadent as ever.”

  Khattak got to his feet, politely shouldered Rachel aside.

  “If this performance is for my benefit, I’ll put an end to it by leaving. Rachel, I’ll call you tomorrow. Thank you for coming out.”

  “Rachel?” Laine crowed. “As gloriously humdrum as the rest of you! Audrey darling, don’t tell me you’ve become so petty that you haven’t thought to give Little Miss Dreary the makeover she’s gasping for. She’ll need it to stoke that libido, am I right?” She stood chest-to-chest with Khattak.

  “Shut up, Laine,” he said brutally. He signaled one of the men behind her shoulder, offloading Laine into his arms. “Your friend is drunk. Kindly take her with you.”

  “I’m not drunk, sexy,” she called over her shoulder, as she was guided to the fire. “I miss you, Esa, I miss your bed.”

  Khattak muttered an imprecation under his breath and an apology aloud to Rachel.

  “Why did you ask her here?” he said to Nathan. “You’ve learned nothing, have you?”

  Nate scrambled to his feet. “Esa, wait—I didn’t call her. This was an accident, you have to believe me.”

  “Like you believed me?” He didn’t wait for an answer.

  * * *

  Defeated, Nate sank back into his seat. “Goddamn her.”

  “Who was that?” Rachel breathed. The woman had descended on them like a tornado, leaving just as much destruction in her wake.

  “That was Laine Stoicheva, total and utter bitch,” Audrey said. “Pay no attention to anything she says. She lives for trouble. Eats and drinks it too, I think.”

  Laine Stoicheva. The last partner Khattak had worked with before Rachel herself. She’d heard the stories. Heard the truth from Khattak himself, yet the woman in person was like an undefused bomb. She oozed sex. And as Rachel could see from the lapdog expression of every man around them, she wasn’t accustomed to rejection.

  Khattak’s account of Laine Stoicheva’s demotion had included no mention of Nathan Clare. Laine had divided her attention between both men.

  “I should get home,” Rachel said to the others. “It’s a long drive.”

  “I didn’t know she’d be here,” Nate said to his sister. “How could I have known?”

  “He’ll calm down. He’ll realize that’s the case.”

  “He won’t,” Nate said bitterly. “That’s only the second time in two years that he’s spoken to me.”

  Rachel looked from brother to sister, feeling decidedly de trop. She murmured a good night and slipped away to her car, caught by an icy blast of rain.

  It was a relief to breathe the rain-drenched air, to feel its spiraling wetness against her cheeks. She slid into the driver’s side and started the engine.

  It choked.

  She tried again, her eyes searching for Khattak’s BMW.

  It was gone. Why did the man have to appear and disappear so quickly? She’d have sworn he was a magician. She let loose a fluent string of curses. Now, she’d have to call in a tow truck for a boost, and she’d still be sitting here when Laine Stoicheva and the Clares eventually found their way to the lot. They’d see her because she’d been stupid enough to park near the door with plenty of lighting. Rain had been her only worry then. Balanced against potential humiliation, it seemed a small price to pay.

  She scrabbled in her purse for her phone. Maybe her Da would come.

  She choked back a laugh. Not tonight or any night. Her Da wasn’t in the business of rescuing damsels in distress. Just like with Zach. Dead or alive, it was the same thing. Why worry about Rachel driving home at midnight? She was a police officer, not a teenage girl. Except that when she’d been a teenage girl, no one had worried either.

  Keep the boat afloat. Keep everything the same. Nobody speak. Everyone survives.

  There was sharp knock at her window.

  She rolled it down: Nathan Clare stood there, dripping with rain. Like her, he hadn’t had the sense to bring an umbrella. “Let me give you a lift.”

  “I can’t leave my car here overnight.”

  “You can. I’ll settle it so that it’s ready for you in the morning. Now, where can I drop you?”

  “What about Audrey?” she asked him, not seeing his sister.

  “She’s met a friend who will drop her. Get your things while I call.”

  Common sense told her to refuse. Her personal sense of awkwardness insisted on it.

  But there was Nathan Clare, soaking wet and miserable, not budging from her window as he made his calls.

  “You’ll catch cold,” she said ungraciously. “Let me get my bag from the trunk.”

  The thought of someone else driving through the city to Etobicoke in the rain imbued her with bliss. Not having to worry about her car or fix the problem herself—well, this was the first time someone had stepped in for her. The first time anyone had seemed anxious about her feelings.

  The scene in the pub had been insulting and confusing, but Rachel was used to both. What she wasn’t used to was the generous offer of help and comfort. She found herself stretching out her legs in the luxurious interior of an Aston Martin, watching traffic lights swing past rain-darkened streets in long green streaks.

  Nate glanced over at her, his hands tight on the steering wheel. “I think I owe you an explanation.”

  “Honestly, you don’t. Inspector Khattak told me about the charges Laine manufactured against him, I’d just never met her. I can see why she was a problem.”

  “That’s all he told you?”

  “That’s all that mattered to our job. He doesn’t owe me anything else.”

  Nate brushed his gold hair to one side. His fingers came away damp. “I wonder why you think that, Rachel. Esa speaks very highly of you to Ruksh. It sounds to me as though he considers you a friend.”

  Rachel flushed with embarrassment at the thought of herself as the subject of such personal discussion. The suggestion that Khattak might share the quiet regard she felt for him was unsettling. She cleared her throat. “He’s also my boss. And I want to do well with him.”

  “I think you have done. Audrey tells me as much. He has a strong sense of what’s right.”

  And though she hadn’t wanted to be drawn into this conversation, Rachel asked, “Then why haven’t you spoken in two years?”

  Nate kept his attention firmly on the road. “It doesn’t mean he’s not stubborn. He’s stubborn and judgmental as hell. If he thinks his trust has been betrayed, there’s no convincing him otherwise. When he brought you to Winterglass, I thought he might be thawing. He wouldn’t have brought you, I thought, if he didn’t want me to meet you. To let him know what I thought of this woman who figures so largely in his life.”

  Rachel flushed red. “I’m not—we’re not—we work together. We came here because of Christopher Drayton.”

  “I think that was an excuse for Esa to reach out. You must have seen that he’s asked me hardly anything about Drayton. Or Mink, for that matter. When Esa is interested in a woman, he tends to go quiet.”

  Rachel wanted to ask if there had been many—there had to be something behind the reputation he sustained at work, even if she hadn’t seen it herself—but it didn’t seem appropriate. And she wondered if Nate was right. Had Khattak wanted to reach out to a friend he had somehow lost along the way? Had he needed her presence as a shield? All the things they should have been doing to confirm Drayton’s identity had been delayed. He hadn’t called her for a week, and then only to visit an imam unconnected with the case.

  “Were you both in love with her?”

  Drayton, she cursed herself. You should be asking about Drayton.

  �
��No.” His sudden awkwardness appealed to Rachel, if only because she identified with it so thoroughly. “Audrey said she would tell you, but she tends to dramatize things. The truth is theatrical enough.”

  “Two friends fighting over a woman who plays them off against each other?”

  A faint color rose in Nathan’s face, softening its incipient lines. “I—these are good guesses but they’re off the mark. Esa was never interested in Laine. She was his colleague at INSET. She may not seem like it, but she has an excellent brain and a knack for intelligence work. It was a good partnership, but she wanted more, which was something I didn’t know. He should have told me about the trouble she was causing him, but he’s somewhat conservative in these matters. I suppose he thought he was being gentlemanly. I’d come by several times to meet Esa after work, and I noticed Laine.” He shrugged helplessly. “Who wouldn’t? What stunned me was that a woman like that noticed me. She was interested in me. She didn’t have to try all that hard. One look at her and I was besotted.” He smiled at the old-fashioned word. “I planned to marry her, and then she brought her claim against Esa.”

  “That must have been the end of things,” Rachel said, in as neutral a tone as she could manage.

  “You would think so. You would think I’d know Esa better than anyone—or that I’d learned to trust him in thirty years.” He glanced over at her. “Laine was an obsession with me. I couldn’t think or sleep for wanting her. I would have done anything she asked. In the end, I did.”

  “I don’t understand.” From the wretched expression on his face, she had the feeling that she didn’t really want to know.

  “Laine asked me to testify on her behalf at a closed hearing. Against Esa. And I did. That’s why he hasn’t seen me in two years. That’s why I wrote Apologia.”

  Rachel clasped her hands together. Her fingers felt numb.

  “He was cleared,” she said weakly. “And you never married Laine. He must have forgiven you.”

  “When he brought you to meet me, I hoped as much. He tried to warn me once, but when I wouldn’t hear it, he didn’t say another word against her. In your case, there’s no reticence. When he brought you to Winterglass, I knew something had changed. And then Laine tonight—let’s just say, she destroys everything she touches.”