I dropped the used towel into the laundry bin provided and returned Simone’s cool appraisal, probably still too unsettled to be as diplomatic as I might otherwise have been. “And you don’t look like a millionairess.”
She froze, her eyes widening. But just when I’d braced myself for an outburst, she smiled, a genuine show of amusement.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Charlie, but everybody’s been acting so timid around me lately,” she said with a bubble of laughter rising through her voice. “They all want to tell me how to live my life, but you’re a breath of fresh air after all these stuffed shirts.”
If that’s how you think of Sean, lady, then you’re not looking nearly deep enough.…
“I’m sure they only have your best interests at heart,” I said neutrally.
She gave a snort of derision. “Oh, sure,” she said, cynicism making her face suddenly hard. “Either that or their best interest rates-one or the other. Everybody seems to want a piece of me.”
“Including Matt.”
She shot me a quick warning glance, then shrugged. “Matt’s trouble was that he’s a man,” she said, abrupt. “He didn’t always think with his head-if you know what I mean.” Her eyes slid to the closed cubicle door, but her free hand gestured expressively to the front of her cargo trousers.
“Even after you won the money?”
Simone’s smile twisted. “No, he lucked out there,” she said with a hint of bitter sadness. “I knew he was fooling around with some of the girls at the place he works. Oh, he always denied it, but sometimes you just know, don’t you? Then one night I caught him coming in late with some lame excuse and I–I just totally lost my temper with him. I just went postal,” she admitted, flushing. “He didn’t say anything, which was as bad as an outright admission, right? He just went upstairs, packed a bag of his stuff and walked out. I thought he’d come back the next day, but he didn’t-how’s that for guilty conscience? And then a week later my numbers came up and now everything’s a whole lot more complicated.”
There was something in her face. I paused, tilted my head on one side in a way I knew I’d picked up from Sean. “You still love him,” I said, that part of it a statement. “So why not take him back-forgive and forget?”
She gave a restless twitch. “It’s not that simple anymore, is it? Why did he wait until after he found out about my win before he came back? How can I ever be sure …?”
“That he came back for you or for the money,” I finished for her.
Simone nodded unhappily. ‘And as for the way he’s behaving over trying to stop me looking for my dad, well, that’s just unbalanced,” she said in a low voice, breaking off and shaking her head. She gave a slow, weary smile. “Sometimes I wish I’d never bought that goddamn ticket.”
“Language, Mummy,” Ella’s voice drifted over the cubicle door, making both of us start. Simone colored again, as though she’d forgotten her daughter’s eavesdropping presence.
“Four going on forty,” Simone muttered, and, louder: “Sorry, sweetie.”
“That’s all right, Mummy,” Ella said in a patient tone that suggested she knew adults couldn’t really be held responsible for their actions. “I’m all finished,” she added.
Simone let go of the top of the door and pushed it open for Ella to come out. She’d tucked most of the back of her skirt into her tights, but apart from that she seemed to have managed to re-dress herself just fine. I waited until Simone had helped her daughter to wash and dry her hands, then held the door for them.
It was for that reason I was behind the pair as they made their way back to our table. Harrington and Sean were still deep in conversation, but I saw Sean’s head lift as soon as we appeared in his line of sight. Sean’s eyes met mine for a moment, then slid across my left shoulder and narrowed.
I saw him tense instantly, start to come out of his seat. Then I was twisting to the side, keeping my knees soft as I started to turn. I had no idea at that point what I was going to see.
A young, bearded man with a gaunt, intense face, wearing jeans and a baggy military-style jacket, had entered the restaurant and stepped into view only a couple of meters behind us. With surprising agility he’d shrugged away the hand of the maitre d’ who had tried to detain him, and his whole being was now focused on Simone and the child. His jacket was open and he had his right hand inside it, holding something concealed tight against his body.
Behind me, I sensed Sean was already going for the principals. There was no further need for communication between us. I knew instinctively that he’d selected his role based purely on cold logistics, leaving the threat for me because I was nearer, because it made more sense.
I saw the man’s arm flex as he began to withdraw his hand and I took a fast stride sideways, moving to intercept. I grabbed his right forearm just below his elbow and dug my left thumb hard into one of the main pressure points located there.
With my right hand I reached for his throat, using my own forward momentum to force him over backwards with that hold, hooking my leg around his calf to unbalance him and take him down. At the last moment I jerked my hand up slightly, enough to protect his head but not enough to stop him winding himself.
He landed with a sharp explosive whump of sound, the air gushing out of his lungs. His breath in my face smelt of peppermint. His right hand had drooped where I’d dead-armed him, letting whatever it was he’d been hiding slip to the floor.
I took a fraction of a second to scan it, just in case. It was a pink soft toy, a rabbit with long silky ears. I found myself kneeling partly on the toy animal’s body as the man who’d been carrying it struggled against my restraint.
A pink rabbit?
Suddenly, Ella’s voice was a piercing wail in my ear, accompanied by the stab of two tiny fists beating at my upper arm. Damn, she had a healthy punch for a four-year-old.
“Don’t you hurt my daddy!”
Daddy?
My grip on the man’s throat slackened just a fraction and he didn’t need a second invitation. In a flash he had levered his body half off the floor, shoving me backwards. I fought for balance and lunged for him again, seizing his jacket at the shoulder. He gave a kind of jerking twitch, as though to jettison the coat. I yanked the back of his collar down and twisted a great handful to form makeshift handcuffs around his lower arms. Then I piled onto his back, forcing him face-first into the carpet.
When I looked up I found the entire restaurant had frozen and were staring down at us. Harrington was on his feet, gaping at the tableau we presented in openmouthed horror.
Sean had his body between where I had the man pinned and Simone, his eyes scouring the rest of the crowd in case this was a diversion rather than the main event.
Simone had swept a loudly weeping Ella up into her arms. She was cradling the little girl on her hip and glaring ferociously at the man on the floor. His head was turned towards her, his nose mashed into the carpet by the pressure of my knee on the back of his neck. That might have been what had brought the tears to his eyes, or it might not.
“Simone, baby, please listen to me,” he managed in a muffled voice, scratchy with stress. “Don’t go to America. Don’t take Ella away from me. Please-”
“For God’s sake, Matt!” Simone snapped, and any trace of affection she’d shown for her ex when she’d spoken of him in the ladies’ room only a few minutes before had vanished, flattened out by anger and embarrassment. She leaned down towards him. “Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
“Baby, please, don’t go. You don’t need him. I love you. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please.” He was almost gabbling, his voice wavering between a whine and a plea. “I’m begging here.”