Page 14 of Innocent Salvation

“Are you saying you don’t like Mrs Lewis’s cooking?”

He was teasing her now, trying to get a reaction to make her smile at him like she’d had when she spoke of Fleur.

“No, God no. Don’t say that. She’d be devastated and she’s a wonderful cook. I just don’t want to be beholden to you or anyone else.”

“Even for food?”

Her reaction wasn’t what he expected and made him want to know more about her and why she was so independent. “It’s no trouble and if you like, I can add it to the employment package instead of a bonus.”

He had no intention of doing that but if it made her feel better, he had no issue with telling a white lie.

Snow bit her lip before nodding. “Okay. That’s acceptable.”

“Good.”

“Well, I’m going to take this and head up. I’ll see you in the morning I expect.”

Was that a question or a statement? He wasn’t sure but he hoped it was a question, and that she was as eager to see him as he was her. Which was damn stupid on his part and would only lead to trouble.

He didn’t reply, just nodded, and once again turned away, knowing that watching her walk away in those tiny shorts would be his undoing. He was a man, not a fucking saint, and she was temptation in a perfect package. She was also the first nanny that Fleur seemed to really like and therefore he couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Then he realised he hadn’t offered his condolences on her father’s death and felt like a heel. It seemed he was determined to make a bad impression with this woman.

Chapter 6

Two mornings later and Sebastian was feeling good about his decision to employ Snow. They’d both kept their distance since the night he’d found her in his kitchen in barely anything, the memory still etched on the insides of his eyelids. Any interaction they had was mostly over the phone and regarding Fleur.

A smile creased his lips as his driver pulled up to the courtroom and his offices at seven am. His niece was happier than he could remember seeing her since her mother had died. More than that, she seemed to be thriving, her thirst for life not subdued by sadness and loss and he had no doubt that was because of Snow.

Shouldering the door open, he nodded to Dereck the night guard, who was well overdue for retirement but said he liked to keep busy, lest the loss of his wife took over completely. Sebastian couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose someone you had forty years with but then he’d never met anyone he wished to spend more than a few weeks with. A sudden image of him and Snow came to mind, laughing over the heads of three dark-haired children and he stopped short, almost spilling the coffee down his Tom Ford suit.

He shook off the ridiculous notion. It was clearly time he called someone from his list of suitable partners and got laid. A lack of sexual release and not enough sleep was clearly sending him crazy.

Stopping short as he stepped through the outer office door, he glanced around at the disarray. Papers were strewn everywhere; the desk top computer was broken on the floor and the vase of flowers Margaret kept refreshed every week was smashed on the ground beside her desk.

Dumping everything in his arms on the chair, he raced toward his office, his foot slipping on something as he rushed through the door. Looking down he saw blood smeared over his shoe and horror filled him as he followed the line of it and saw a foot he recognised sticking out from behind his desk.

“Margaret!”

Rounding the desk, he knew the second he laid eyes on her that she was dead. There was too much blood for anyone to survive an attack like that. Still, he crouched to check her pulse, finding her body cold to the touch and her pulse nowhere to be found.

Standing with a heavy heart, he ran back to the main entryway and yelled for Dereck to call the police and an ambulance. He didn’t know why he asked for the last, but he wanted to make sure that Margaret was given the best chance, even though he knew in his heart she was already long dead.

As he waited outside his office for the police to arrive, he went through every moment since he’d walked in this morning. Had he passed the attacker? How had Dereck not seen him, and why Margaret? Deep down though he knew this wasn’t about her. He’d seen the state of her office and then his. Whoever killed her hadn’t been aiming for his long-suffering secretary—no, he would’ve been the target; he just knew it in a way he couldn’t explain.

As the police arrived and sealed off the scene, he was led through to a room beside his as the courthouse was closed down for the day so the crime scene could be preserved, and investigators could do what was needed.

He knew the drill better than most and he still found the entire thing tiresome and frustrating. He answered question after question from the detectives, all of whom he knew on a first-name basis.

‘Did anyone have a grudge against him’ made him laugh. He was a high court judge, of course they did. Practically every person he’d locked away hated him, but he hadn’t had any threats, at least not of late, and those he’d received had been sent to the police and logged as was the procedure.

“Mr Alexander, are you working on anything right now that might make you or your staff a target?”

Detective Chief Inspector Peter Randall was a good man and a thorough and methodical copper who got the job done. He also wasn’t afraid to ask questions that could make you feel awkward, and Sebastian respected that.

“I’m in charge of a highly classified report on corruption, but I can’t say more without permission from the Home Secretary.”

Randall raised a bushy eyebrow and made a note in his burgundy notebook. “I see. Well, we’ll contact her office.”

He cocked his head and Sebastian braced for the personal questions, but he had nothing to hide.