Getting Lost Page 19

  “I’m sorry. The entire building has had a surge. Our generator has only just kicked in. I apologise. Is anyone hurt?”

  Stella looked around. Simon or anyone thug-like was nowhere to be seen. She and Phoebe looked at each other. Stella approached the man.

  “So it was just an accident?”

  “Yes. I’m so sorry. I’ll arrange for your group to have a free game.”

  Stella wasn’t worried about that. “And no one switched off the lights or anything like that?”

  The man stared at her. “No, ma’am. I’ve just come from the control panel. I can assure you a surge tripped the system. It’s happened before. It’s an old building with old wiring on some floors.”

  Phoebe held the broken bottle aloft. “This must have fallen or something,” she lied. “I picked it up so no one would get hurt.” She handed the bottle to the grateful man.

  Stella’s heart raced, and by the look on Phoebe’s face, hers did too. The rest of the group, in contrast, found the whole episode hilarious and had righted the tables and stools and was going about their business carefree.

  “We jumped to conclusions, right?” Stella and Phoebe sat at the nearest vacant table.

  “No, we had every right to be cautious.”

  “Cautious? I was on the verge of heart failure.” Stella leaned in to whisper. “I had Simon in night vision glasses hunting you down, that’s how far I let my imagination go. Jesus, and all because the bloody power surged.”

  Phoebe smiled.

  “What?”

  “You watch too many movies, Stella.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks to television and movies, I’m handy with duct tape and I’m pretty sure I can defuse a bomb in less than a minute.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. It’s always the red wire.” Stella thought for a moment. “Or is it the blue?”

  Phoebe leaned in and her smile faded. “I want to take you back to the hotel.”

  “Why, Miss Lancaster, I do believe you’ve made me blush.”

  Phoebe ran a finger up Stella’s inner thigh and winked. “I can make you do more than that.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Day twenty-one was typically an emotional seesaw. Visiting Mauthausen, a Nazi labour concentration camp, was undoubtedly confronting. Usually, until this point, the crew would have been riding high, but with the ups and down of the last three weeks, this group had already had their fair share of demanding experiences. Stella was dismayed at how this tour could be the best and the worst, all rolled into one.

  The incident with Pippy and Stella’s two hospital visits, all faded into insignificance next to the atrocities that occurred in concentration camps during World War II. Mauthausen acted as a not-so-subtle reminder to everyone just how lucky they all were.

  The majority of the group had coped amazingly well with the tour’s little hiccups, but there were some hard nuts to crack. There were always going to be those clients who were never happy, and it was around this time when sleep deprivation and the long succession of hangovers took their toll; tolerance began to wane and tensions were high. Without fail, Mauthausen provided the behavioural readjustment many needed.

  The camp was an emotional experience for everyone, but especially for those who were Jewish or who had direct links to World War II. The apprehension was palpable as they neared the site. Stella gave a brief talk on how visiting the camp was emotionally challenging and draining.

  Returning to the coach after the tour of the camp was always a sombre affair, but Stella had a job to do. Rightly or wrongly, after some quiet time for reflection, it was her job to rev the troops back up for the tradition of the Munich beer halls.

  The hotel in Munich was smack bang in the middle of town, and after leaving her group to shop in Marienplatz, Stella headed to the most expensive Internet café she could find in the hope that her movements would remain undetected. She settled at a computer in the far corner, and opened her newly purchased notepad. Phoebe Lancaster wasn’t as smart as she made out if she thought Stella was going to sit idly by while she risked her life. Stella began work.

  Her first search was on Oscar Dean. Born in 1953, Oscar continued to disappoint her. Short, with a full head of stark white hair, the formidable man was far from spectacular. Stella sent picture after picture to the colour printer.

  Secondly, she researched Simon Threadbody. It was the most thorough search she had undertaken on this man, and she was surprised to find little information about him other than his impressive business and financial credentials. Not surprisingly, there was nothing to suggest he was a thug or a criminal.

  Consequently, she trawled through hundreds of photos, searching for any that included brutish looking bodyguards. There was no guarantee the same men would escort Oscar or Simon on overseas jaunts, but Stella was thorough. She needed to cover all bases.

  Finally, she searched for pictures of Sebastian, a rather difficult task. It seemed Oscar went to great lengths to protect him from the public eye. After searching fruitlessly for over half an hour, Stella eventually struck gold. Oscar had paraded Sebastian in front of some photographers at a fundraising function for the Sydney Children’s Hospital. Not only did Stella now know what Phoebe’s little boy looked like, she also had a picture of a woman, possibly his nanny—Phoebe’s inside contact.

  Three hours and fifty euros later, Stella packed pages of printed photos and information in her satchel and headed to Café Universe, her favourite café in all of Germany. She ordered food and coffee and began piecing together the information, preferring to write down, in her own words, the bios she had printed. In no time, she had filled pages of written scribble with information about Oscar, Simon, Sebastian, and their bodyguards. Age, height, pastimes, etc. Everything she thought she should know. She noted Oscar’s and Simon’s keen interest in hunting, fishing, and how, even though Oscar was nearly sixty, he still enjoyed keeping fit, probably something to do with Sebastian.

  Stella’s phone beeped and she checked a message from Phoebe: Where are you? Fancy a lay down? Stella smiled. She had almost finished, and although she had been concentrating on building a portfolio of Oscar’s entourage, she had developed a niggling throb in certain parts of her anatomy, desperate for that sated feeling only Phoebe could provide.

  So now, with the prospect of a matinee session, Stella’s spirits lifted dramatically. She flicked through her notepad one last time. Satisfied with the information it contained, she hid it away and responded to Phoebe, agreeing to meet her at the hotel at four o’clock.

  *

  “Where did you disappear to this afternoon?” Phoebe rushed through the door only seconds after Stella, laden with shopping bags.

  Stella began a rehearsed lie about meeting up with an old colleague for coffee, before Phoebe interrupted. “Shh, I don’t really care.” She threw her bags on the tiny sofa. “I’ve been shopping.”

  Stella raised her eyebrows at the quantity of bags. “So I see.”

  “But I can’t concentrate on that right now,” continued Phoebe, desire in her eyes.

  “Want me to give you something to focus your full attention on?”

  Stella stood firm as Phoebe came to her, cupping her face before kissing her longingly.

  A deep, sexy sigh escaped Stella as her tongue parted Phoebe’s lips, forcing her to grip on tightly.

  Phoebe slipped a hand beneath Stella’s top, roughly pushing her bra aside before urgently fondling Stella’s breasts.

  “I thought we were going to lie down for a while?” Stella enjoyed Phoebe’s hands all over her, undressing her now.

  “We will. Soon.” Phoebe struggled with the buttons of Stella’s shorts. “Jesus, get these off, will you?”

  “Are you always so demanding?” Stella stepped out of her shorts.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t wear underwear tomorrow. I think I like the idea of you naked under your clothes, just for me.” Phoebe tugged at Stella’s knickers and quickly dipped a finger be
tween her legs.

  “That,” Stella said, indicating the moisture on Phoebe’s finger, “is the reason I have to wear underwear.”

  “Have you been wet all day?”

  “Haven’t you?”

  “I have, actually. I’ve thought of nothing but fucking you since this morning.” Phoebe stopped as she threw her own bra across the room. “I’m sorry. I meant making love to you.”

  “It’s okay.” Stella squeezed Phoebe. “I like that you want to fuck me, and I like that you use the word. Just make sure you make love to me sometimes, too.”

  “I promise. But for now I want to make you weak at the knees.”

  “I’m already weak at the knees.”

  They kissed and groped each other until they were both highly aroused. Phoebe gently asked, “Tell me what you want?”

  “I want you.” Stella suckled Phoebe’s nipples.

  “Then tell me how.”

  “Really?” Stella was hesitant.

  “I mean it. Tell me what you want before I take you any way I like.”

  “Can you save taking me any way you like for later? I kind of like the sound of that.”

  “Of course. Now tell me what you want.”

  “Okay.” Stella went to the bed and lay on her back. “Straddle me.”

  Phoebe grinned and rested her knees either side of Stella’s hips. She played with Stella’s nipples, squeezing and massaging them.

  “That’s enough. Keep your hands to yourself.”

  Phoebe cocked her head. “Are you delusional as to the position I’m in as opposed to the rather vulnerable position you’re in?”

  “Don’t test me, Phoebe. Now move up.”

  Stella felt the thin film of moisture from Phoebe’s desire cover her stomach as Phoebe edged upward. Her ability to make Phoebe so wet astounded her.

  “Higher,” said Stella.

  Phoebe moved upward.

  “Higher.”

  Phoebe moved over her chest.

  “Come on, Phoebe. Don’t make me keep asking.”

  Phoebe manoeuvred into position, grinning and bracing herself against the wall as Stella’s tongue entered her.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Having been on this tour far too many times to recall, it was no surprise to Stella that the next few days passed by in a blissful blur. Stella was falling in love. Their night in the Munich beer hall was unremarkable. The only thing Stella remembered was that she and Phoebe had made love before they went, and then again upon their return. Almost everyone on board had become aware that they were sharing a room, but no one really commented or seemed to care—so much for Janet’s rules. It would become apparent when the hat went around for tips if any clients had been bothered by the fact that Stella was off limits. Such was the hectic nature of this particular tour, Stella wasn’t even sure she should ask for tips. Not for herself anyway. Russo, on the other hand, deserved a medal.

  A hot summer’s day saw nearly all the group participate in rafting, cycling, swimming, or fishing as they relaxed in Hopfgarten, a quaint Austrian village in the Tyrol. But beyond her official duties, Stella preferred the sanctuary of her hotel room. So, it seems, did Phoebe, testing Stella and her time management skills. Stella utilised every spare minute to her advantage, notching up valuable hours of study time, including taking a crash course in spying and sleuth work via the Internet, paying special attention to the art of following someone. In direct contrast, she found gathering information from Phoebe a difficult task. It was like drawing blood from a stone.

  “So, you’re awfully calm, given what your plans are in Lucerne tomorrow.” Stella mixed a drink for them both.

  The icy glare from Phoebe was a clear warning.

  “Come on.” Stella threw on a T-shirt—this wasn’t a conversation to be had naked. “Cut me some slack here. I’m going out of my mind with worry.”

  “And I thought I was doing such a good job of distracting you.”

  “The distraction is wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but I’m on the verge of making you my prisoner for the next two days simply to keep you safe.”

  “Well.” Phoebe grinned. “Under any other circumstance that would be welcome.”

  “Let me help. Give me something useful to do.”

  “The most useful thing you can do is stay out of it so I don’t have to worry about you.”

  “I won’t be leaving your side in Lucerne,” said Stella.

  “You will because you have a tour to look after. Look, honey, leave it to me, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.” Phoebe patted the bed next to her, summoning Stella, who refused to budge.

  Where the tears came from, Stella didn’t know, but they came on strong, and they worked a treat. “I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you,” she blubbered. “Every second of our time in Lucerne, I’ll be beside myself with dread.”

  Phoebe’s harshness softened. She pulled Stella onto the bed, engulfing her in a strong embrace. Stella’s body shook under the weight of her fear. She couldn’t stop crying.

  “Look,” Phoebe said. “I can tell you nothing is happening tomorrow. The entire meeting will be done and dusted by lunchtime the following day, okay? So please, stop worrying.” Phoebe squeezed tightly. “I promise to call you immediately after it’s all over. All going well, you can buy me lunch.”

  Bingo! Stella at least had a time frame. She needed to push for a location now. Her mind raced through some of Lucerne’s most exclusive residential areas. With a few possibilities, she wondered about their proximity to any public places. Surely Phoebe wouldn’t be stupid enough to meet too close to where Sebastian lived.

  “Will your friend be there? The nanny?”

  “Stella! Just let it go.”

  “What? I’m only asking.”

  Phoebe’s frustration was beginning to boil over. “Look, there’s nothing to it. I’ll meet them somewhere. It will be out in the open, all rather innocent. It won’t be a deviation from their normal routine. I’ll spend some time with Sebastian, and I’ll leave. Simple.”

  “Simple?” Stella sat up, suspiciously eyeing Phoebe. “What about the bodyguards?”

  “What bodyguards? Who said anything about bodyguards?”

  Shit! Stella wanted to kick herself. She wasn’t cut out for a career in intelligence; that was becoming clear. She quickly recovered. “The ones you said beat you up after you hung about the school.” It was a long shot. Phoebe never mentioned they were bodyguards. Stella held her breath.

  “Oh, no. It was the school that reported me. He was only a hired thug. Oscar has many of those floating around.”

  “So, Sebastian only has the nanny to look after him?”

  “As far as I know, most of the time it’s just his nanny. She has a black belt in karate or something like that. She’s no pushover.”

  Stella wasn’t sold. “I find it hard to believe, with all his money, the boy doesn’t have a bodyguard.”

  “He does. She’s his nanny.” Phoebe laughed. “He’s not in line for the throne, you know? Yes, Oscar is a powerful man. Yes, he’s well protected, but anyone who’s anyone out there knows that to harm Sebastian would be a call to arms. Oscar Dean isn’t to be messed with like that. Sebastian has all the protection he needs, I’m sure.”

  Stella’s eyes widened. “See? You just said it yourself. Oscar Dean isn’t to be messed with. Phoebe, you have to call this off.”

  “Calm down. I’ve no intention of kidnapping him or extorting money. I’m no threat. I only want to meet the boy. That’s all.”

  Stella was far from convinced. She left Phoebe in the bath and made an excuse to leave the room, her satchel slung casually over her shoulder, concealing her precious notepad. She settled in a beautiful beer garden, ordered a refreshing cranberry juice, and jotted down the information Phoebe had disclosed.

  Next on the list was an attempt at successfully following someone. She’d downloaded the key steps involved and was keen to put them to the test. The prob
lem she faced was that she wasn’t a stranger to Phoebe. The Internet gave endless examples on how to tag someone you didn’t know, but this was a unique scenario. Phoebe knew her and probably knew how to detect being followed. For today, however, Stella would practice on a stranger.

  Hopfgarten was small, and she might have been overly cautious, but all three targets appeared to remain oblivious to Stella’s tailing. She was tested on occasion; one target frequently stopping while Stella continued on, finding a hiding place and then picking the target up later. She pretended to be on a call once or twice and rushed past her target, again conveniently picking them up shortly afterward. It was a good result, and the experience yielded valuable lessons, all aiding her master plan. Yes, additional concentration was required, but she returned to the hotel satisfied with her progress.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Stella struggled to keep her eyes open as the coach sped along the autobahn toward Lucerne. Last night she had intended to snuggle up to Phoebe and rest, desperate for a full night’s sleep before rising early to study her notes. Phoebe, it seemed, had other plans.

  Their lovemaking had been intense, experimental, and had lasted for hours. Phoebe had made it count, exploring Stella’s body entirely. It fleetingly crossed Stella’s mind that Phoebe could have lied, that today was the day, but there was nothing she could do about that now. Please let it be tomorrow.

  On the outskirts of the picturesque city of Lucerne, Stella handed out her city map, spoke about Lucerne itself, and arranged to meet the group at a coach park late that afternoon. A trip up Mt. Pilatus was planned for the evening, arriving at the summit via cog rail, dining in the famous restaurant with stunning views, before descending via cable cars as the sun slowly set. With the amazing weather they were experiencing, it would be a memorable sight.

  The best way Stella knew to describe Lucerne, was crisp and fresh. It would often seem like all the beautiful people lived in this city—even Stella could feel a little intimidated in Switzerland.