She was eating it on the timber deck under the umbrella when she heard Mike’s car pull up on the road at the front of the building. Very handy with technical know-how, Mike Moody worked fifteen to twenty hours a week for Gemma, and for other security businesses the rest of the time. She glanced at his figure on the CCTV monitor in the corner of her living room as she went to let him in. Though he and Spinner had keys, they only used them if Gemma wasn’t at home. ‘Hi. How’s it going?’ Gemma asked, opening the grille. Mike nodded in answer and she followed him into the operatives’ office, across the hallway from her own. ‘How about you?’ he asked. The pink shirt he was wearing emphasised his well-built upper body and the light tan on his powerful arms. Gemma shrugged. ‘Been better.’ She was pleased to see him. Mike’s was a comforting presence, especially with the emptiness in her heart. Gemma went into her own office, delicately furnished in soothing light greys and white with a huge recently re-covered club-style armchair under the window.
