‘Well, now you’ve had your fun, let me show you out, Mr Crawley,’ Caitlin said tightly, opening the door and stepping aside to let him make his exit. ‘You’re not welcome here.’
‘Why don’t you come and work for me now you’re out of a job? We could make music together.’
‘Get knotted,’ she said as curtly as she could.
He laughed patronisingly.
The urge to lose her temper was well nigh irresistible. The urge to assault him physically was well nigh irresistible. Caitlin fought the urges down. Both would be mistakes. Her attempts to hurt him would simply amplify his pleasure.
Where was Michael Crawley vulnerable? The answer came to her immediately. His overwhelming ego.
‘You’ve been very clever, Mr Crawley.’
‘Indeed, I have.’ He was supremely confident. ‘A good hand played with masterful strokes.’
Caitlin felt the bile in her stomach churning.
‘Tell me how you found out about David and me, when no one else knew?’
‘I think not.’
‘Impress me, Mr Crawley. Or was it just a fluke?’
That stung his pride. ‘Of course not.’
‘How, then?’
‘I’ve had you both under surveillance.’
So simple, so obvious, once one thought of it.
‘I don’t believe you.’ She was grasping at straws.
He smirked. ‘Please yourself.’
‘If you had us under surveillance, you would know David’s habits.’
The smirk widened. ‘Oh, I do.’
‘What time did he leave my apartment?’
‘Six forty-five. Every time he laid you.’
The thought that Crawley knew every time they had loved each other—it was so sick—Caitlin gagged. She quickly forced out some words to cover her reaction. ‘And what did David do with his schedule after that?’ Caitlin didn’t know herself, and it didn’t matter.
Michael Crawley began to laugh, a raucous belly-filled laugh of absolute delight. ‘He went to have breakfast with his mother.’ The merriment shook his frame until tears of glee rolled down his eyes. He m
anaged to contain himself. ‘You see, Caitlin, it’s that piece of knowledge I’ll use to destroy David Hartley psychologically. Isn’t that funny? Aren’t you amused? Are you impressed?’
Caitlin was going to be sick. She needed more words. Fast. ‘You’re a sadist, Mr Crawley.’
‘Indeed I am, Caitlin.’
She swallowed hard and gestured to the open doorway. ‘Goodbye, Mr Crawley.’
He strolled to the door and paused, his eyes glittering exultantly into hers. ‘Think about it, Caitlin. Hartley didn’t trust you. Give me a call if you want a job. I’ll pay you more than he did. And revenge is sweet.’
‘Yes,’ she forced out. ‘Yes, it is.’ Somehow, some way, she would bring Michael Crawley down for what he’d done tonight.