Page 21 of Trusting Laurence
Stopping outside her door, he knocked.
“Just a second, Mrs. Wilson.”
He heard her moving around inside and wondered what she was doing. No sooner had he thought it, she was opening the door. A look of surprise crossed her face before she gave him a nervous smile.
“Laurence. I wasn’t expecting you quite so soon.”
“Sorry, I should have thought to call.”
“It’s no problem. I just know you’re busy. Please, come in.”
He stepped past her, taking in the room beyond. Feminine in its color and décor, it suited her. His mind automatically took in the number of windows, internal doors, the layout of the small space.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Tahlia asked.
“I’ll take a soda, if you’ve got any. Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back. Have a seat.”
Instead of following her suggestion, he wandered over to the nearest window and inspected the street below. From this part of the house, he could see the section where he’d parked, but the car he’d spotted was just out of sight. Were they still there? What were they doing on this street? The agent in him was concerned about a vehicle so clearly out of place being parked so closely to the house Tahlia lived in.
“Here you go.” Tahlia stood beside a sofa, a glass of soda in her hand.
“Thanks.” Taking the glass, Laurence sat on the chair closest to him.
She remained standing, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. Clearly, she had something on her mind and didn’t know how or where to start. His eyes on hers, Laurence waited. When she started chewing on a thumb nail, he couldn’t hold his silence. He knew the gesture well. When Tahlia was stressed, something big was worrying her, she chewed her nail.
“All right, Lia, out with it. What’s got you so rattled?” In a bid to put her a little more at ease, he resorted to his nickname for her.
Tears gathered in her eyes, but before he could do or say anything, she turned and walked to the kitchen. With her back to him, she reached for her cell phone. She fiddled with it for a moment, came back, and handed it to him.
He dropped his gaze to the phone, taking it from her. When he saw the message displayed on the screen, his blood froze.
Unknown number: Know what we do to snitches, bitch? Stay out of shit that don’t concern you none, or you gonna find out.
“Talk to me.” The words came out harsh, his tone uncompromising. He hadn’t intended it to sound that way, but he was worried he knew what the message meant, and that was nothing good.
Tahlia’s body jerked in surprise at the hard sound of his voice. The tears that’d gathered when he’d spoken gently to her moments earlier spilled over. “I don’t know who sent it or what they mean. I don’t even know how they got my number.” Her voiced cracked. For a moment, she was silent as she gathered her composure. She continued, “There’s more. It’s in the kitchen. I don’t want to touch it again.”
He followed her into the kitchen where he noticed a white flower box lying on the counter. As he drew closer, he noticed the stench of decaying flowers.
“This arrived not long after the first message and then, not long after that, I received the second text. I didn’t know who else to call, Laurence. I don’t know what to do.” Tahlia couldn’t quite contain the sob that escaped.
Without thinking, Laurence reached out and gently wrapped his arms around her. He felt her body shake with fear, and, in an instant, he was transported back to years gone past. A time when he’d held her like this as she’d cried in pain and distress after yet another beating.
“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m always here. I’ve always been here.”
“Youwerealways there. But then you weren’t. And I had to learn how to get by on my own.”
Guilt of old sliced through him, leaving him a bloody mess in its wake. Tightening his embrace, he replied, “Ah hell, Lia. I couldn’t stay. You knew that. You weren’t willing to leave Marcus, and I couldn’t stand by watching helplessly from the sidelines. If I hadn’t left, I would probably have wound up in jail for murder.”
There was so much that needed to be said, on both parts. Now just wasn’t the time. The message and dead flower were the first phase of intimidation techniques he knew the underworld used. Which meant somehow Tahlia had landed on the wrong person’s radar. The question was, why? Did it have something to do with the accounting records she’d given him? Or was it something else, something he didn’t know about? And if it was the former, how had they found out?
There were only a handful of people who knew he had them and even fewer knew where he’d gotten them from. Had someone been talking out of turn? Had Marcus been talking out of turn? Did they have a leak somewhere? Neither of those thoughts gave him the warm and fuzzies.
Suddenly, he remembered the vehicle he’d seen down the street. He’d known something was off. Now, the question was, if he looked into the vehicle’s ownership, would he be alerting the mole?
“Lia, do you have anyone you can call to come be with you, sweetheart?”
