Chapter 164: THE FOURTEENTH
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle in a way that they haven’t since that fateful night with Hannah. I look around me but all I see is what I should; a café and bakery full of smiling, happy patrons. Again there is the sense of being watched, something I just can’t shake off even as I tell myself sternly to pull myself together.
I ask Trina, the girl serving at the bakery counter for a couple of the sun-dried tomato focaccia rolls as I know they are my mum’s favourite and she said she would be dropping by today to go over a few of the details for Taylor’s party. She gives me a wide smile and asks how I’m getting on and we chat for a couple more minutes about how she is enjoying the job since she started a few weeks ago. Yet even as I stand there, I can’t shake the feeling that someone is scrutinising my every move.
Turning around I scan the crowd once again and then something catches my eye, a movement that I don’t quite understand until Adam appears out of nowhere and plucks a pale man out of his seat with a growl. I didn’t even realise that Adam was part of my security detail today which is a testament to how well he is able to do his job.
A moment later someone else materialises and between them, they quickly escort the man through to the corridor that runs past the kitchen and out to the back. I follow the group of men quickly, determined to get to the bottom of whatever is going on. When I emerge from the door, I find Adam efficiently patting the man down while the other holds him pinned to the wall.
“What on earth?” I ask shocked at the scene unfolding in front of me.
“Just give us a moment, Abby,” Adam says.
“Adam, what’s going on?” I ask once again.
“Abby, please. Just leave and I will come and explain in a moment,” Adam requests politely.
“I’m not going anywhere, Adam, until you tell me what the hell is going on. Why on earth have you dragged one of my customers out here and proceeded to search him?”
“Got it!” Adam’s companion says triumphantly. I vaguely recognise the man and scroll through my mental rolodex for his name. It’s just on the tip of my tongue as I curse my damn baby-brain and then suddenly it strikes me, “Kieran!”
Kieran gives me a startled look but quickly returns to his task in hand which I soon realise is scrolling through the man’s phone. In all this time, the man has not said a word. He hasn’t even objected to Adam’s manhandling of him which I find surprising; surely if he were some innocent bystander he would be protesting his blamelessness?
The man looks me up and down, much like a scientist would scrutinise a specimen and once again the hairs on the back of my neck tingle; this is definitely the source of my agitation.
“Who are you?” I ask the man seriously, needing some answers.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he mutters. “I just came in for a cup of coffee.”
“Yeah, like three hours ago,” growls a furious Adam, who fishes around in the guy’s pockets until he comes across a wallet. Rifling through it, he pulls out the guy’s driver’s licence. “Sam Delevitt,” he says. “So which media agency do you work for, Sam?”
“Media agency?” I squeak now feeling somewhat confused.
Sam is refusing to speak so Adam continues, “Or are you just paparazzi scum? What kind of story do you think you are going to get here? Café sells coffee?” Adam’s voice is snide and I can tell he’s really pissed off.
The question running through my head is why the hell would there be paparazzi here? Just then Adam pulls out a business card and waves it in front of Sam’s face. Despite Sam’s bravado, there is something very wrong; I swear the man just went pale underneath his suntan.
“Kieran, put a call into Henry and Detective Stanton, please. It looks like Sam here is a private investigator. I’m betting there is only one reason he’s here.” Adam shoves Sam against the wall with force but Sam just smiles at him with a sick little grin. Kieran quickly moves out the door to place his calls.
My mind is whirring and I don’t like the conclusions I’m coming to. “Do you think Richard has hired him to follow me? Seriously, do you think that could be a possibility?”
Adam sighs, “I don’t know, Abby. What I do know is that this guy has been coming in here for coffee every day for the last month, sitting around for hours nursing the same cup. Until today, he’s not done anything we could confront him on. That is until we caught him filming you on his phone.”
I feel the blood drain out of my face. “If he has been coming in here for the last month, then Richard set this all in place before he escaped custody at the funeral.” I suddenly feel like crying out of sheer frustration but then fierce anger takes over and I want to smack the smug little man standing opposite me.
Kieran walks back in with grim determination on his face. “Local CID is sending a squad car over to pick up this piece of work and take him up to London. They’ll be here in about ten minutes.” Turning to Sam, he looks at him levelly for a moment before saying quietly, “Our friends are very much looking forward to having a word with you. Apparently, you have a number of outstanding warrants with your name on them.” Kieran gives him a smirk and finally, Sam seems to be losing some of his cool as beads of sweat break out on his forehead. Yet he remains silent.
“Adam,” I murmur. “We need to talk after they pick this guy up.”
Adam gives me a look as if weighing up his options and then gives me a brief nod. “Go wait in the café, Abby, and I’ll come through when this piece of shit is gone.”
“Okay,” I agree and walk back through to the café. I snag a seat on one of the sofas suddenly feeling weary as the adrenaline drains from my system. Alison gives me a curious glance and I can only imagine what everyone thought at the sight of a man being dragged out by two tall guys.
I place my head in my hands trying to breathe as a Braxton Hicks contraction suddenly shoots across my belly. They have been coming more and more frequently these days and even though I think I should be used to them these days, they never fail to take my breath away.
“Are you okay, Abs?” Alison asks with concern as she sets down a cup of steaming peppermint tea.
“Argh. It’s just these damn contractions,” I say. “They always get me when I least expect them.”
Alison lowers her voice, “What was all the commotion about, Abs?”
“I really don’t know, Ali,” I say. “Adam thought he was paparazzi or something but I don’t know why they would be here.” I’m reluctant to say too much until I have an idea of what the hell is going on.
At the word ‘paparazzi’, something flits across Alison’s face that piques my curiosity. “Alison?” I say questioningly.
Alison takes a deep breath, pausing a moment before speaking, “I just thought you would know, Abs.”
“Know what?” I respond feeling more confused than ever.
“Here, it’s probably easier if I show you,” Alison says digging her phone out of her pocket. She taps on it, waits for something to load and then passes it over to me with a guilty look on her face.
I take the phone and, even though I should know better, I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. It is a photograph of me looking like I’m about to stuff an enormous cupcake into my mouth. The headline above it reads ‘Cupcake Queen Binges! Is she putting her baby at risk?’ As I read the article, my stomach drops and my heart begins to pound. Everything in it is speculation yet the way the article is written implies that I’m stuffing myself full of cake every day and my child is at risk of diabetes. What. The. Fuck?