The Last Exile Read Online Free Page B

threats, he was more attuned to detail, to things not being quite right. A quick visual told him that the porch door was locked, the front door closed. All just as he’d left them. Skirting down the side of the building, he checked the back—again, door firmly locked, no telltale footprints in the overgrown borders, no sign of broken glass or break-in. Peering in through the windows, he saw no signs of disturbance in the kitchen, nobodylurking in the bedroom. Bathroom window was shut tight. At least bungalows had some advantage, he thought as he continued his tour of duty. They might be easy to break into but they were also a doddle to check and clear. Feeling the pressure ease, he glanced in through the side window at the doll-sized sitting room, and tensed. The image seemed to dance before his eyes so that he had to blink twice to take it in: an immaculately dressed blonde, classy looking, hair swept back in a ponytail, long tanned legs, sitting on his sofa, as cool as you like. To add insult to injury, she was flicking through his brand-new copy of
Loaded
.

CHAPTER THREE
    “W HO the bloody hell are you?”
    The woman glanced up as if he were an unreasonable husband demanding to know why his dinner wasn’t on the table. “You normally greet people like this?”
    “Only when they break into my house.”
    She arched an imperious eyebrow and transferred her gaze to the walls. Tallis felt his jaw tighten. “How
did
you get in?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “Yes.”
    She smiled—nice set of white teeth—and leant towards him. “Aren’t you a tiny bit intrigued to know why I’m here?”
    She sat back again, uncrossed her legs, re-crossed them. She was wearing a dark brown linen dress with a plain square neck and three-quarter-length sleeves. Her arms were slender, fingers long. Apart from a thin gold necklace, she wore no other jewellery. He estimated her as being the same age as him, possibly a little older. She was actually very beautiful, he thought, and she knew it. She had soft brown eyes displaying vulnerability she didn’t possess, small breasts, about which he had a theory. Women with small breasts were dangerous. You only hadto look at Lucrezia Borgia, the illegitimate daughter of a Spanish pope with whom it was rumoured she’d had an incestuous relationship. Even by sixteenth-century standards, Lucrezia was judged to have been cruel and avaricious.
    “Who are you?”
    “My name’s Sonia Cavall.” She extended a hand. He didn’t take it. She let it drop. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
    “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing,” Tallis said, ignoring the invitation.
    “I’d have thought that was obvious.” She put the magazine away, slowly, carefully, met and held his gaze.
    He blinked. This was barmy. She was so composed, so in control. Was he going mad? Or was he missing something? Horrible questions hurtled through his brain. Had they met before? Had he been drunk? Had they slept together? Christ on a crutch, was she pregnant with his child? No. He gave himself a mental shake. He was always very, very careful about stuff like that and he hadn’t slept with a woman for God knew how long. “Explain or I’ll call the police.”
    Again the astringent smile. “Oh, I don’t think so.” Confident. Authoritative. He immediately thought
spook
. “Consider me your fairy godmother.”
    Playing games, are we? Tallis thought. All right, baby, let’s play. He donned a smile. “I never read the Brothers Grimm.”
    “Should have. They’re quite instructive. Full of moral fervour.”
    “Can we cut the crap now?” He was still smiling but he felt fury. Whoever this woman was, she was too smart for her own good.
    “What if I said you’ve been selected for a job?”
    “What job?” Suspicion etched his voice.
    “Finding people.”
    He burst out laughing. “Come to the wrong house. It’s not what I do.”
    “What
do
you do?” There was a scathing intonation in her voice.
    He