I Told You to Be Careful (Gold Streaks Book 2) Read online

  The soft track of starlight marks time as they lie there sated in each other's arms. The cool silver picks out the gentle motion of breathing stilled with sleep; the rise and fall of two connected heartbeats. All is at peace.

  Chapter 7

  “...and can you get me those documents? I'll need a copy for archive.” Lisa calls it out to their secretary in passing.

  “Yes, Ms Marsden.” The secretary calls out as she rushes past, hurried.

  Lisa sits back for a moment; leaning into the red upholstery of her chair. The firm is thriving, with cases pouring in; and the case she will be defending in two day's time is turning out to be high-profile. She had a call from the newspapers the other day; but declined to comment. Another newspaper called this morning, offering her a deal, for the story. She refused – client confidentiality is something she respects; something their firm is well-thought of for maintaining.

  “L? I'm off for the Weyrich case in about five minutes?” Titus puts his head in round the door; his black suit fresh-laundered, his tie slightly skew. Lisa grins.

  “Sure, T. Good luck with that. Do you think you have time for lunch?”

  “We'll probably be finished around two...”

  “Good. I can wait.” Lisa smiles.

  “Chilli-curried chicken and fried rice?” Titus asks; brows raised.

  Lisa laughs. “If you like.” The Vietnamese restaurant that has opened up around the corner has proved a favourite with Titus, who is in there often for lunch. They do takeaway meals, and are close enough for anyone to slip out for ten minutes to fetch a hearty lunch.

  “This case should be concluded quite fast.” Titus grins.

  “I'm sure it will be.” Lisa smiles. “I'll fetch the lunch round two.”

  Titus grins; retracts his head from the doorway and walks off, whistling; on his way to court.

  Lisa smiles.

  The firm has become so popular in the last months that they have had to hire a new junior member to handle some of the less high-profile work. And with three bar students, the practice is thriving. Their accountant, Rochelle, has had positive reports, and the budget is looking better than it has in years. They might even, Lisa smiles, have enough to re-paint the buildings. Get the place looking truly stylish. Their building should reflect their increasingly-prominent client list. Lisa grins. In front of her on the desk is a pile of papers to work through – reports to read, documents to sign. She lifts her pen; ready to start in earnest.

  “Ms Marsden?”

  An earnest, freckled face appears in the doorway. One of the students; Ben Greenberg.

  “Yes, Ben? I'm kind of busy right now...”

  “Only two minutes?”

  Lisa sighs. “Very well. I thought Anthea was supposed to help you with queries?”

  “Anthea's...busy right now.”

  “Anyone else, who isn't busy?”

  “No.”

  Lisa grins. He is probably right. The place is so busy she can barely breathe without a new job appearing on her desk. Everyone is feeling it, so help for students is fairly thin on the ground now.

  “Alright, then. What's the matter?”

  “It's like this...”

  Ten minutes later, the student has left, looking relieved.

  Lisa leans back, breathes deeply. The first uninterrupted breath in what feels like hours. Silence. The rest of the firm is either working silently, at the court or out to lunch. Lisa smiles. Looks down at her desk. A pile of papers waits for her to sign; there are accounts to read through, updates to make note of; thanks from clients to reply to; reports to read. So much to do. She bends over the desk and gets to work. Lunchtime is the perfect time to do it; when the building is silent and still.

  The phone on her desk rings.

  “Lisa Marsden, Naidu and Marsden law firm. Can I help you?”

  “Lisa.” The voice on the other side is deep; rich. Disconcerting.

  “Yes?” Lisa asks, unsurely.

  “It's Cedric. Brinkman. We met at the Gold Ridge event?”

  “Yes...is this involving something you want to discuss about the case?” Lisa enquires.

  “Yes...yes it is. Do you have time to meet today? Or perhaps tomorrow evening? I have a meeting with shareholders the entire day then.”

  “Well...today is full. Tomorrow – I'm full all day tomorrow.” Sue has asked her to leave the evening free as there is a possibility of dinner with new work partners, and she wants Lisa to attend.

  “Okay. Thursday? How about dinner?”

  “Thursday..? Yes. I can make it.”

  “Good.”

  “Seven thirty?”

  “Yes.”

  They say goodbyes; hang up.

  Once he has gone, Lisa leans back in her chair; disconcerted. Something disturbs her about Cedric.

  Nothing she could point out; but he makes her feel uncomfortable. And she doesn't trust him. He seems like someone it would be unsafe to trust.

  She sighs, shakes her head. Too much work to stop and think about it. She bends over her desk again and returns to work. While there is still some silence to concentrate in.

  An hour later, she looks at the clock. One thirty. She had better fetch lunch, if she and Titus are going to eat before three.

  She fetches her handbag, car-keys, tweed jacket. Waves to Mrs. Henderson at the front desk, and leaves.

  There is a queue at the restaurant, and it is almost two by the time she drives back to the law firm. She stops the car; rushes to open the door; slams it; two stryrofoam boxes of curry balanced in the one hand; precarious. Rushes across the tarmac, high heels clicking. Past the green Volkswagen at the centre of the carpark. Stops. Turns back.

  She feels a sweat break out on her back; fear suddenly flowing through her. She is rooted to the spot for a minute; then feels herself moving to the office.

  She puts the boxes on the desk, find her chair. Collapses into it. Her hand, when she lifts the telephone, has a tremble. She grits her teeth; holds it still. Come on, Lisa. Be strong. You're overreacting. She takes a deep breath. Dials Sue's number. Waits for her to reply.

  “Sue?”

  “Hi, Lisa! I'm...I'm about to go to a meeting. Are you alright? What is it? You sound worried.”

  “I am. I wouldn't disturb you at work for something less. It's that man, again. In the carpark. The same as on Monday.”

  “Lisa? Are you safe there?” Sue sounds concerned.

  “Well, the door downstairs is guarded; and there are lots of people around. And Titus can walk with me to the car.”

  “L? I think you should call someone. The police. They can at least post someone at the car-park; see if they can catch this man.”

  “They could...but with this case...It's so high-profile. I don't want more press attention than we've already got.”

  Sue sighs. “I understand. But...stay safe, will you?”

  “I will.”

  Three minutes later, and Titus is back from the case; glowing with triumph. It has been a good day. He and Lisa have their lunch; discuss the case, the work, the day. Lisa mentions her worry. Titus frowns.

  “L? You think someone's going to try and take you out?”

  “It had crossed my mind.” Lisa, wryly. She smiles at his honesty. “Do you think it might happen?”

  “It could.” He frowns again. Thinks a bit. Then,

  “I'll tell you what we can do. You leave your car here; I'll drive you home. Nothing like confusing these people a bit.” He grins. “You can get a lift in to work tomorrow. Then, you're going to have to decide what to do. The police?”

  “Maybe.” Lisa sounds reluctant.

  “Good.”

  They sit for a moment, silent.

  Chapter 8

  Sue's office is warmly-lit with pale sunshine through the high windows. She and Lisa are at the long table on the one side of the office; which lies under the full glare of the windows. The gauze curtains mute the light, making it warm but not too bright; shining pale silve
r on Sue's hair and haloing Lisa with ginger-red where her curls have escaped the confining French braid. The air-conditioning is on, making a barely-audible hiss and keeping the room pleasant and cool.

  “So...gentlemen...If we could just look over the contract?” Sue spreads her hands, indicating the document on the desk before her.

  Lisa has read and worked on the contract; although she is not Sue's lawyer anymore. She is here in her capacity as a legal witness; along with Sue's new lawyer, seated now on the left.

  The three men around the table each read their copy. Someone has a query. The lawyer answers. Sue smiles. Each of the men come forward to sign. Sue signs, and then the witnesses.

  Everyone shakes hands.

  The new prospecting on the northern slope has shown a possible mineral deposit. Not gold, but bismuth. Sue is excited to broaden the company, and has invited new expert engineers on board to help dig the minerals. The company, Norton Engineering, has just signed a five-year contract with Gold Ridge. It should, in everyone's opinion, be profitable for all concerned. The room is filled with a sense of promise, interest and excitement.

  “So, gentlemen. I propose a dinner, at Casini's?”

  “Very good.” The CEO of Norton, an older man, smiles approvingly.

  The whole room has a good atmosphere, of mutual contentment. Lisa smiles. It has been a good day.

  They spend a few minutes in discussion. Lisa talks to the other lawyer; complimenting him on his work. He blushes. Then everyone is shaking hands, and the engineers and lawyer take their leave.

  Sue turns to Lisa, smiles.

  “Two hours more of meetings, then I'll see you at home?”

  “Yes.”

  They kiss and Lisa leaves, taking a taxi from Sue's work to the law firm on the other side of the city.

  At five, Sue leaves work. By six, she and Lisa are at home.

  “Can you help me with this dress?” Lisa and Sue are in Sue's room, dressing.

  A rack and some shelves in Sue's vast wardrobe contain Lisa's few clothes; a collection that has grown slightly since moving in with Sue and the increased demand of social events.

  Now, Lisa is in a bronze dress; not too fussy, but well-cut and draped. The bronze exactly sets off the ginger warmth of her hair, and glows with her red-brown eyes and freckled skin.

  Sue grins at her, from where she has been putting on foundation in the mirror; her hair just set in its classic style, pale wisps loose at her ears, curling onto her cheek.

  She helps to fasten the zipper; both of them chuckling as it sticks somewhere around the back as it fastens across her bosom. Their warm laughter fills the room; dancing with the pale sunlight that floods the room from the sunset on the hills across the town.

  Half an hour later, and they are in Sue's car. She has asked for a driver, so that they can travel safely home again.

  The restaurant is crowded, even in the middle of the week. Two of the engineers are already at the table reserved; waiting politely with a drink. Lisa and Sue join them. Soon all four are laughing; talking; discussing. Having a good time. Ten minutes later, the CEO from Norton engineering arrives; apologizing for being stuck in traffic. They smile, forgive him graciously.

  Everyone sits and orders dinner.

  Casini's is stylish and modern; the walls deep grey and the décor raspberry and ochre. The lighting is subdued and warm. The room is filled with people talking, laughing; drinking. The air is scented with basil, lemon and the sweet warmth of spice.

  The light glows on Sue's pale skin; offset in the white silk shift that shows her collarbones and the pale soft skin of her chest; stopping discretely just above her cleavage. She has teamed it with discrete pearl earrings and her hair is styled off her face; a stray curl brushing her cheek.

  Dinner arrives; the first of five courses. The champagne is circulating, and Lisa can feel a warmth building up inside her. She smiles at Sue, who smiles back; dazzling.

  “...And I said to him; you can't possibly do a tunnel like that. What about drainage?” The chief engineer is relating some story about a past job.

  “...drainage was a nightmare down there, anyway...” the other engineer adds.

  “Yes, Bert...it was.”

  “So what did you do?” Sue asks it.

  “Well...before anyone could dig for ore; we had to make some kind of channel; divert the water...” the chief engineer has tipped back his chair slightly; contemplating the ceiling as he remembers.

  Sue is smiling; grins across the table at the third man.

  “You've managed digs down across the main ridge?” Sue asks it.

  “Yes. The ground down there is terribly hard...need special drills for that. Imported from Hamburg.”

  “Really?” Lisa asks it. “The ground at Gold Ridge isn't so bad, though, right?” She envisages the expense of having to import drills.

  “No...no. The ground there is great. Beautiful stuff.”

  Lisa smiles back. “Good.”

  The champagne and light and good food combine to soften the atmosphere. Soon they are talking about things further from business: Their careers, their homes, their families. Funny stories from their childhoods, from student days; from their early business experiences.

  The room is warm and fragrant, and the food is exceptional; a five-course tasting menu, cooked by the rising culinary star Sandro Cassini.

  “...and after all that, I found out it wasn't true after all!” The CEO finishes a story from his days studying engineering. Everyone laughs.

  “Well, that's not so bad, actually...I remember a time, when I was resources manager...” Sue starts a story from her early years at the mine, before she had worked her way to CEO. Everyone listens, and soon they are all laughing, smiling, and someone raises their glass in toast, grinning.

  The sound of laughter and clinking glasses slips in with the light and scents and sounds; mingling to create a wonderful atmosphere. Lisa feels completely carefree; smiles warmly at Sue. She grins back, slides her hand across the table and squeezes Lisa's fingers. She returns the clasp. They are both relaxed, enjoying every second. The chief engineer is slightly drunk; but very happy; his colleagues are talking away. One of them is watching Sue with a love-struck mixture of awe and profound tenderness. The other is engaged with Lisa in a complicated discussion about the integrity of construction.

  Everyone is engaged in conversation; smiling; laughing; talking. Sue and Lisa are completely relaxed; having a wonderful time. Any threat seems far distant; forgotten. They are alive, happy; celebrating.

  The party leaves the restaurant at 1 am, laughing and drowsily content.

  Chapter 9

  The day at Naidu and Marsden is as demanding as usual. Lisa feels a little delicate, but does her best to hide it; drinking water and aspirin and keeping cool in the afternoon heat.

  By lunchtime, she is feeling well again. There are minor crises to attend to – Rochelle has come in with a demand from the car-hire firm which needs payment; one of the junior partners is sick and needs replacing; a call comes in with another case from a food-producing corporation. Lisa delegates the case. The afternoon passes; and Lisa is too busy to check if there is anyone watching the carpark.

  Four o' clock, and she is leaning back, considering the route home.

  “Damn!” She swears. “Laura?” The secretary has an office just outside her own.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you check my appointments? I'm supposed to be somewhere tonight, aren't I?”

  'Yes, Ms Marsden. You have a dinner-meeting with Cedric Brinkman?”

  “Don't I just.” Lisa nods at the confirmation. It had almost slipped her mind.

  She groans. Everything about that man makes her uncomfortable. “Oh, well.” She tells herself, once the secretary has gone. “Dinner can't be too bad, right?”

  She sighs; sorts through the papers on her desk again. Two more hours and she should leave.

  At seven-twenty, Lisa drives her Volvo into the carpark;
walks the block to the restaurant. She is wearing a pencil skirt and green blouse; her red hair loosely-styled. Her high-heels click on the tarmac.

  “Ms Marsden?” Cedric Brinkman is already at the restaurant, at a table across the room from the door. He rises when he sees her arrive, comes across to shake her hand.

  “Good evening. Please, call me Lisa.”

  He smiles, the openness of it a surprise on his usually-closed features. “Delighted to. Cedric.”

  Lisa smiles. Sits down.

  They order drinks, and when the waiter has gone, Cedric starts the discussion.

  “I wanted to ask you what you think of this case so far. What line you're taking?”

  “Well...” Lisa begins, hesitantly. “It seems straightforward to me. Either there's proof that your factory issued a damaged car, or there isn't. The fault could have occurred at any time. There's no damage to any other vehicles under issue at the same time. They're going to need some expert witnesses to prove the damage was already extant at the time of sale.”