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‘I thought you said… Wait.’ Two mugs? Glancing around the room, I spotted a box of Christmas trimmings on the sofa. ‘What have you done with Roxy?’ ‘Roxy? Er, she’s popped out for a bit.’ ‘What for? It’s a bit early to fetch the sandwiches, isn’t it?’ ‘Ah, well.’ She sounded rather vague. ‘Not busy, are we? And there were a couple of other things she needed to do, so we thought—you know.’ ‘Right.’ I narrowed my gaze at her, bemused by this ineloquent version of my assistant manager. ‘I kind of thought the whole place would be kitted out like Santa’s Grotto by now.’ ‘Tinsel,’ she announced triumphantly, as though she’d only just remembered what it was called. ‘That’s what she’s gone to get. Not enough—’ she hesitated ‘—purple, apparently. She won’t be long, I’m sure. Deep joy, I thought wryly, wondering what on earth Roxy was planning to do with it before remembering that the new Sam—Samantha—had resolved to wholeheartedly embrace Christmas this year. ‘Okay. Fine.’ ‘Fine?’ Alice fired. ”“Why?”“To get to the Hollister girl.”Tightening my grip, choking him slightly in anger, I asked again, “Why?”“She has information.”“No. She doesn’t,” I informed him. “Who set me up?”“I don’t know. That’s way above my pay grade, Lightfoot.”I could see his lie. Why was he playing for time? A blood soaked smirk emerged. He withdrew his hand from his pants pocket and opened his fist.Shit! A small panic fob rested in his palm.“You’re too late, Lightfoot. They’re on their way. You can’t get away this time. Where’s the Hollister girl?”Infuriated at my lapse - I should have remembered the fob, I slammed my fist into his cheek. Russell’s head snapped back smacking against the wall with a loud thud. The whites of his eyes showed. He slumped. I let him fall limp to the floor and raced out.Running out the front of the building, I turned towards the Peugeot. As I reached it, in the distance, two black Suburban SUVs tore around the corner.“Get your seatbelt on,” I ordered Callie, starting the car..
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