Torch Read Free Page B

reasons.’
    ‘Well now’s
your chance to tell them directly to Dr MacLeod.’
    The woman
coming towards him was exactly what Sev didn’t want. Sexy, her
intelligent eyes examining him.
     
    Rhona sat at a
table while MacRae went to get some coffee. Even the furniture in
the café smelt deep fried. She concentrated on breathing as
shallowly as possible. The toilets were right behind her. Close
enough for an emergency.
    When MacRae
came back he was carrying a tray with two cups, a pot of coffee and
the full works; bacon, sausage, black pudding, fried bread and a
double portion of eggs. He laid the tray on the table and made a
big show of splashing tomato sauce over everything.
    ‘Sure you don’t
want some?’
    Rhona shook her
head. ‘No thanks I’ve eaten.’
    ‘It didn’t stay
down long.’ He forked a sausage. ‘You going to do that when we get
inside the building?’ He wagged the burnt sausage in her face then
plunged it in the tomato sauce.
    Rhona ignored
the jibe.
    ‘So. How long
have you been doing this job?’
    ‘I’ve been in
Glasgow three years...’ She began the usual answer but he didn’t
give her a chance to finish.
    ‘Three years.
Wow. Long time.’
    She ignored the
sarcasm and continued. ‘I was seven years at the Forensic Lab in
Birmingham before that.’
    He took another
bite of the sausage. ‘You married?’
    She hadn’t been
expecting that one.
    ‘Thought not,’
he said when she didn’t answer.
    ‘What’s that
supposed to mean?’
    ‘No time?’ he
suggested, the sarcasm back.
    ‘No
inclination,’ Rhona said firmly.
    He laid down
the knife and fork and reached for her hand catching her completely
off guard. The hand that held hers was warm and dry, the grasp firm
but not tight. He pulled it towards the coffee pot and held it
there for a moment.
    ‘Ever been
burned?’
    She pulled her
hand free.
    ‘Yes... no...
not really.’
    ‘What does that
mean, not really?’
    ‘It means
nothing serious,’ she said firmly.
    He shook his
head. ‘You don’t know fire until you’ve been burned.’
    ‘I
disagree.’
    ‘Gallagher had
ten years’ experience in this game.’
    ‘And he’s a
man.’
    He didn’t miss
the icy sarcasm.
    ‘With a strong
stomach.’
    If she hadn’t
been so angry, Rhona would have laughed. ‘I wasn’t sick because of
the body.’
    ‘This isn’t a
job for a pregnant woman. There are fumes, asbestos dust... ’
    He was
unbelievable. Rhona lifted her coat from the back of the chair.
    ‘Where are you
going?’
    This time she
had caught him off guard.
    ‘I’m going to
do what I came to do. My job.’
    MacRae wasn’t
defeated, yet. ‘No assistant of mine goes into that building until
it’s structurally safe.’
    Rhona was aware
that at least half the café was listening to their argument. She
raised her voice for the benefit of the other half.
    ‘You’d better
find your assistant and tell them that, then.’
    ‘Look,
lady...’
    ‘No, you look
Mr MacRae. I am not your ‘lady’ assistant. I am a Forensic
Scientist. You, I believe, are a fire investigator. Together we can
find out why and how this fire happened or I can catch the next
train to Glasgow. Either way I’m happy, although I think your
superiors may not be pleased if I choose the second option.’
    MacRae’s
expression didn’t change. He stood up and looked at his watch.
    ‘I have an
appointment to keep,’ he said. ‘No one goes into the building until
I get back.’
    Rhona watched
him leave, irritated with herself for handling the meeting badly.
MacRae didn’t want her there, that was obvious. Exactly why, she
wasn’t so sure.
     
    Sev got to the
Family Reconciliation Office at 11.35am. It wasn’t soon enough for
Gillian. The meeting had started badly and was deteriorating every
time he opened his mouth. The counsellor was doing her best but
what a sixty-year-old woman with hair like the Queen could tell him
about marriage wasn’t what he wanted to know. He wanted to see
Gillian