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Who Needs Enemies (Harri Phillecki, PI #1) - Page 40/52

She snorted, then jumped down the stairs and raced across to the small rockery near the back fence. I went down at a somewhat slower pace then headed right.

Goliath saw me. He growled low in his throat, then grabbed a fistful of Guy’s shirt, thrust upwards with his legs, and flipped the ogre over his head. Guy hit the turf head first and slid hard into the fence. Wood splintered. He didn’t move.

Goliath jumped to his feet. Blood poured from his nose, staining yellowed teeth when he smiled.

“Just you and me now,” he said.

“Not quite,” Ceri said, and threw the rock she was holding.

The troll spun then ducked, the speed of the movement belying his bulk. The rock sailed over his head and barely missed my toes as I swung the shovel with all my might. He ducked again and the shovel sailed over his head. The force I’d put behind the blow unbalanced me, and I staggered sideways for several steps before I could catch my balance.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the troll’s fist go back. I swore again and threw myself out of the way, hitting the ground with enough force that my breath whooshed from my lungs and the shovel went flying. As I scrambled desperately after it, a boot bigger than the sky came at my head. I wrapped a hand around the shovel’s grip then rolled out of the way. The ground trembled as the troll’s booted foot hit the space where my head had been only inches before.

Another rock sailed through the darkness and crashed into Goliath’s shoulders. He roared, spun around, and charged. Ceri yelped, but before she could run, Guy came out of nowhere and hit the troll side on, sending him flying towards the fence. He hit with enough force to splinter wood, but before he could react, a shadow appeared over the top of him and held a knife that gleamed with soft blue fire against the troll’s neck.

“Please,” a soft, all-too-familiar voice said. “Just give me one reason to use this blade.”

The troll wasn’t stupid. He froze.

I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddery breath.

Kaij.

Talk about an opportune moment to arrive.

“Everyone okay?” His gaze was on me as he said it, a heat I felt rather than saw, and one that pooled somewhere deep in my stomach.

But I didn’t look up, didn’t respond. Now that it was all over, pain and shock had leapt into focus, and it was all I could do not to throw up.

“No, my good tie has grass stains all over it,” Guy growled. “Not to mention the fact I had to smash an entire slab of beer over that idiot’s head, and that was a damn waste of good alcohol.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive the loss.” There was a dry edge in Kaij’s voice. “Ceri, you want to find something to tie this bastard up with? Harri, are you okay?”

“Fine,” I muttered. “Just don’t ask me to move for the next year and everything will be okay.”

Guy walked over and squatted beside me. “You want me to carry you inside?”

“That,” I said heavily. “Sounds like a fucking good idea.”

He slipped his arms around me, lifted me as easily as a feather, and gently carried me into the house. Moe and Curly were picking up the last of the cans, but from the look of it, had only managed to salvage a half dozen.

Guy deposited me onto a chair, then studied the remaining cans with a woebegone expression. “Is that all you could save?”

Moe nodded. His face was a swollen, bloody mess. Curly had faired a little better—he had a bald spot where Goliath had ripped out his hair, and one side of his jaw was bruised and swollen, but other than that, he seemed okay.

“Man,” Guy said, “The bastard has to pay.”

“I’m sure he will.” I hesitated, suddenly remembering the car that had followed me. I might have lost it, but the last thing I needed right now was another surprise visitor. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure—what?”

“Take a walk around the block, and see if there’s a white Holden with rear right panel damage parked anywhere nearby.”

Guy frowned. “Sure, but why?”

“Because I spotted someone following me when I was coming home, and I doubt it was Goliath.” He was already familiar with where I lived, after all.

“And if we find said car?”

“If the driver is there, maybe you could question him? Gently.”

Guy grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Gentle is my middle name. Come on boys, we have work to do and beer to replace.”

As they walked out, Kaij came in. His gaze met mine and, just for an instant, fury glittered in the green depths. But then, he’d never condoned violence of any sort against women. He and my father had that in common, if nothing else.

“Where are the ogres going?”

“To get more beer.” My reply was a short and sharp as his. “You know where Guy lives if you want to talk to them.”

“I hardly need to question him at home when he still spends the majority of his time here.”

I raised an eyebrow at his tone and leaned back in the chair—a bad move, given my stomach muscles were as bruised and sore as my side. What I needed was a long soak in a hot bath, but given the current rate of house invasions, that probably wasn’t a wise move right now.

“Which is just as well given the police are apparently incapable of keeping Goliath locked up.”

“Breaking and entering is not the sort of crime that warrants immediate locking up. He was charged then bailed.”

He dragged out a chair and sat down opposite me. His expression gave little away, but the anger I’d glimpsed so very briefly simmered not far below the surface. The force of it burned through me.

“He actually did a little more than break and enter. He also assaulted—I still have the damn bruises to show for it.”

“Trust me, he will not be released a second time. Not until this whole fucking mess is sorted out.”

I snorted softly. “I’m beginning to think you lot have as little clue as to what is happening as me.”

“That I seriously doubt.” He eyed me for a moment, and again I sensed the anger that burned just below the cool exterior. “What the hell is going on, Harri? Why is your father so determined to come after you? What do you know that we don’t?”

“Given I don’t know what you know, I can’t honestly say.” I glanced past him as Ceri came through the door. She raised an eyebrow, her expression challenging. She wanted me to be honest with him, and while that might be the totally sensible option, it wasn’t one I was willing to take just yet. Not until I was absolutely, totally sure Lyle was behind it all. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—give him up to Kaij otherwise.

“So you think Goliath is here again thanks to my father?”

“He says he’s here for a little payback, but trolls don’t resort to violence unless they’re paid for it. If it wasn’t your father who sent him here, then it was your brother or one of the other Elven bastards you’re related to.”

Which maybe included the only Elven relative I’d trusted up until now. I shoved the thought aside, not wanting to give Kiaj any hint of my suspicions. He’d always been able to read the source behind emotions better than me.

Which was what had made his walking away all that much harder to accept. He’d known what I was going through, and he’d left regardless.

Something flickered in his eyes—an emotion that moved too fast to define. I would have liked to think it was regret, but too much time had passed to honestly believe it.

I reached for one of the remaining beers and popped it open. It probably wasn’t the brightest thing to do right now, but screw it. Between the aches in my body and the force that was my ex sitting opposite me, I need the additional courage boost.

I drank some beer, then said, “The only thing I know that you probably don’t is the fact that Mona was keeping a little black book of all her clients. Only instead of names and numbers, she had pictures. Lots of pictures. Some of them very compromising.”

“And where did you find this little black book given her apartment is a crime scene and you shouldn’t have entered?”

“It wasn’t a crime scene when I went there. She was missing at that stage, not dead. Lyle gave me the key.”

His look suggested he didn’t entirely believe me, but all he said was, “Where is the book now?”

“Upstairs.” I glanced at Ceri. “It’s in the floor safe, if you wouldn’t mind getting it.”

She nodded and walked out. Kaij studied me for a moment, then said, “You told your father about the book, didn’t you?”

I grimaced. “Stupid, I know, but I thought Gilroy deserved the right of reply before I made the book’s existence public knowledge.”

“But in delaying informing us, you’ve perhaps let a killer go free. Didn’t it occur to you that any of them men in that book could have murdered her?”

“It occurred.”

He snorted and shook his head, his expression one of disgust. “And you don’t care.”

“It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I don’t believe-” I stopped, and his gaze narrowed.

“You don’t believe what?”

That someone else in that book did it. But I was saved from answering by Ceri’s return. She handed him the book then glanced at me and said, “Pain killer?”

“Yeah.” Though mixing alcohol and medicine was probably an even less than bright idea. I met Kaij’s gaze again. “Did you ask about Keale’s blood tests?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Answer my question, and I might just answer yours.”

Frustration swirled through me, but I guess fair was fair. Which still didn’t mean I was about to be totally honest. “All I was going to say was that I don’t believe she was murdered by someone in that book.”

“Is Gilroy in that book? Was James Logan?”

“Yes.”

He frowned. “So you think her murder was a random event?”



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