Page 24 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

I hear Sophie’s voice now, getting louder as she protests.

“I’m not going anywhere, this house is safer than anywhere else plus you just said so yourself, someone was taken from one of your so-called safe houses,” she says loudly, practically shouting and I know it’s so I can hear her.

“Your dad told me as much himself,” Partridge mutters.

Taking a chance, I open the door a little so I can hear them a little better.

“Needless to say, Sophie. Your dad wasn’t too impressed either that we roped you in on the whole maid for the informant job either,” Partridge sighs.

I’m glad they did.

“He’s heading back to town as we speak, he’ll be on the next flight so I guess you staying here until then isn’t such a crazy idea.”

Fuck!

“I’ll leave the two men here to watch the house until your dad gets home. You’re right, safer here as anywhere else.”

Double fuck!Chapter ThirteenSophie“Something the matter?” Partridge asks, that sly look coming into his eyes. The same look I saw him give Ben at the safe house.

I don’t say a word, just shake my head as I start to clear up our breakfast leftovers.

Bad move.

I know I have to clear it away before dad gets back, he’s so anal about everything to do with food and cleanliness, but Partridge isn’t all that stupid either.

There’s two of everything.

“Big breakfast,” he says, almost under his breath as his head cocks, like he’s suddenly on the alert.

I feel a stab of panic but hold my own. Putting my hand on my hip, I turn and give him a sassy look.

“All this, it doesn’t just happen by itself,” I tell him with melodrama, motioning a hand over my hips and thighs which I’m sure he can see the outline of through my silk robe.

He thinks for a second, then chuckles quietly to himself.

“Sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

But I know he did, and he’s not buying the Sophie always eats two breakfasts from two sets of plates story either.

“So? You took your dad’s car from your apartment and came straight here last night?” he asks me, sounding more like his job description than he ever has.

I shrug, trying to prove my own lie by helping myself to a leftover piece of bagel from Ben’s plate.

“I guess,” I say vaguely, almost grabbing him when he moves past me.

“Where are you going?” I ask, my urgency betraying me. Giving Partridge all the ammo he needs.

“Just looking around,” he says coolly, moving slowly from one room to the next, opening a door here and pulling back a curtain there.

He knows.

I have no idea where Ben is in the house, but I’m pretty sure he must’ve ducked into the bathroom nearest us both otherwise he would’ve been spotted by now.

I almost scream when Partridge suddenly makes for the bathroom, calling out for him not to go in there.

“Why not?” he asks dryly, “I need to use the bathroom, that alright?”

I make a face, saying something about me being the last to use it, how he’d be better using the one upstairs.

“I’ll take a chance,” he retorts and pushes the door open suddenly, looking inside.

I’m sure that’s it for Ben. He may as well come out and we can stop playing this game, but Partridge suddenly doesn’t need to go anymore, only smiles at me before closing the door and walking back past me, up towards the stairs.

Now I am confused.

Where the hell are you Ben?

“False alarm,” he says softly, changing his mind about upstairs and deciding to hang nearer the kitchen, so he can keep quizzing me.

“You know, Sophie? If you have seen or heard from Ben Slade, even if it was last night, you’re not in any trouble. We just need to find out exactly what happened.”

“And what did exactly happen?” I ask. “And why should he try and contact me? Didn’t you just say he was snatched by the mob?” I ask, reversing his line of questioning right back at him, making him grimace and sigh loudly again.

“I’ll be honest with you, Sophie. We don’t know exactly what happened. But whoever went in that room tore the place to shreds and left the guard in such a bad way I don’t know if we’ll get much out of him any time soon, if ever again,” he adds with calculated drama.

I bite my lip, suddenly more worried than ever for Ben.

It dawns on me, he’s not playing a game at all. This really is life or death stuff. These mobsters, they’ll stop at nothing.

“Can you really protect him?” I hear myself asking, knowing I may as well be pointing upstairs or somewhere in the house shouting, ‘he’s in there, in there!’

But I don’t care anymore, the thought of Ben in danger makes me so scared all I want is to know he’ll be safe.

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