“Use your imagination. I don’t care.”
“Why should I do anything for you?”
Rocky reached out, cupped her face, tilted it up towards his, holding it firmly.
“Because you want to,” he said. “Because you have a hell of a lot to make up for. Because underneath all the queen-bitch attitude, I know there’s a worthwhile person.”
“You don’t.” His last words cut her to the quick. She needed to prove herself to him. “Okay,” she said quietly, and he let go of her.
Five minutes later, Laura was haring through the open waiting area with the police officer in hot pursuit, roaring at her to give his hat back.
Meanwhile Rocky, dressed and ready for action despite his sore and bandaged head, took advantage of the chaos and the perennial staff shortages to sneak off out of an alternative exit, reaching for his phone and calling Flipp’s number.
The desk sergeant frowned at the buzzing phone in front of him.
“Yours?” he asked Flipp, who stood miserably cuffed on the other side, beside an eye-rolling Rhodes and the officer in charge of the armed operation.
“Yeah. Can I answer it?”
“Well, you do have the right to one call.” The sergeant shrugged.
“Who is it from?” Flipp asked, grabbing at the air with anxious fingers. “What does the display say?”
The sergeant picked it up. “Rocky.”
Hyperventilating, Flipp jerked her head to indicate that she wanted to take the call.
“Switch it off,” snapped Rhodes.
“She does have the right,” the sergeant reminded him. He put the phone against Flipp’s ear and switched it on.
“You’re alive,” she blurted, her throat jumping with sobs.
“Flipp, where are you?”
“Police station…please come…he’s got me…need you.”
“I’m on my way.”
Rhodes snatched the mobile from the sergeant’s hand and ended the call before pocketing the troublesome item.
“Ahem, is that your property?” the sergeant enquired, with a hint of iron behind the politeness.
“It is now,” Rhodes snarled. “This is my body. I have to take her back to London today. Fill in whatever forms you need to process her and then we’re off.”
“One moment, Chief Super
intendent Rhodes,” said the officer in charge. “Name?”
Flipp looked up boldly. “Philippa Jane Rhodes.”
The two local officers looked at each other, eyebrows high, then looked at Rhodes.
“No relation?” the sergeant asked mildly.
“No,” said Rhodes, at the same moment Flipp answered in the affirmative.
The officers exchanged a further bemused look.