Princess: A Private Novel (Private #14)(11)

Chapter 17


THE DRIVE TO Brecon was quiet. They took the Range Rover, Cook behind the wheel with Lewis riding shotgun, where she would be in the best position to react to any attack. In the back seat, Morgan regularly looked over his shoulders, but saw no sign of a tail—the winding roads of the Brecon Beacons, combined with the light traffic, made it difficult terrain to follow and remain inconspicuous. It would be different once they reached the town. That would be where they were at their most vulnerable, but it was where they had to go.

Despite the attack of the previous night, the team would still split into two: Morgan and Lewis to meet Sophie’s parents on the town’s outskirts, and Cook to track down possible friends in the town center. Morgan considered changing the plan and keeping everyone together, but Cook convinced him not to.

“They took a swipe at you in a quiet hotel in the middle of the night,” she explained. “I’m going to be in a town center with witnesses and police around. I served in Afghanistan,” the former soldier reminded him, “I can handle Brecon.”

Morgan relented. The truth was, in a missing-persons case, every second was vital. Keeping the team together meant doubling the time to work the same leads, and that time was a luxury Sophie Edwards may not have.

The Range Rover came to a halt and Morgan took Cook’s place behind the wheel. “You don’t leave the town center,” he repeated to her.

“Think about your own safety, Jack. It wasn’t me who ended up in the ceiling.”

Morgan was thinking of his own safety, fully aware that if Lewis had been the one to shoot up the hotel room, then he could be dead before he ever reached Sophie’s parents’ house. Prepared for such an eventuality, he was ready to hit the brake hard if he saw the officer move to draw her weapon. He hoped that would buy him the split second needed to pull out the steak knife he had liberated from Princess Caroline’s kitchen, and which now resided inside his right boot. It was risky, but it was all he had. That, and putting his trust in Princess Caroline and her appointed officer.

“Have you met Sophie?” he asked Lewis as they drove on.

“I have.”

“Tell me about her.”

“She was the Princess’s friend, not mine.”

“You’re a police officer. You’re observant. What did you observe?”

Lewis held her reply for a long moment, instead turning her eyes to the green hillsides that surrounded the town and the growing clouds above them. “It’s going to rain. So much for the good weather.”

Morgan suppressed his frustration and kept his tone neutral. “Sophie, Lewis. What did you observe about her?”

The police officer shook her head. “That she got what she had coming,” she told him.

“Why do you say that?” he pressed, but Lewis would offer no detail to back up her statement. Instead, the GPS announced their arrival at the home of Sophie’s parents.

Frustrated and more wary of Lewis than ever, Morgan told her to wait in the car while he headed for the front door of a light-brick home set in a quintessential British middle-class estate.

Morgan rang the bell. He saw shapes moving behind the glass, and then the door opened to reveal a short woman with jet-black hair, and large eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“Mrs. Edwards?” Morgan guessed.

“Yes?” she replied, eyebrows raising in wonder at his American accent.

“Is Sophie home?”

“Sophie?” Mrs. Edwards sounded confused by the question. “She hasn’t lived here for years. Can I ask who—”

“My name’s Jack Morgan, Mrs. Edwards. I’m a private investigator.”

The woman in the doorway said nothing, but her face said it all. Morgan saw the first traces of fear and placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

“May I come in?”





Chapter 18


PETER KNIGHT WAS searching for a parking spot on a busy London street when the call came through his car’s system. He saw Morgan’s name and answered.

“Go ahead, Jack.”

“I talked with Sophie’s parents.”

Morgan’s tone suggested that the meeting had not proved fruitful, but Knight asked how it went anyway.

“According to them,” Morgan answered, “Sophie went missing when she left for university. They said that she never got tired of telling them how much she hated it in Brecon.”

“Any suspicion of the parents?” Knight asked.

“No,” Morgan answered, trusting his gut. “They looked worn down by her, but that was about it. Both schoolteachers. Not the kind of people to have the connections to set a shooter loose.”

“So they’re a dead end?”

“They’re a dead end. Have you broken the news to Sir Tony’s daughter yet?” Morgan asked. Knight had forwarded him the contents of the USB stick. “That took some watching,” the American added. “It was hard to hold down my bacon and eggs.”

Knight sighed as he finally found a place to park. “No. I’m just arriving now.”

“I don’t envy you this one, Peter.”

Knight let out a long sigh as he slotted the car into position and pulled on the handbrake. “It won’t be easy. Stay safe, Jack.”