Chapter 333 The Recording
For a long moment neither of us said anything.
‘It’s getting late. I need to go into the studio tomorrow,’ I said flatly.
Ashton frowned. ‘You’re not well enough.’
‘I’m fine,’ I insisted. ‘The studio’s reputation isn’t great at the moment. Landing a new client is rare, and I don’t want to lose this one. The fever’s gone. A proper night’s sleep is all I need, and I’ll be fit for work in the morning. It’ll be fine.’
I slid under the duvet and turned my back to him.
It was a long moment before Ashton finally said, ‘Alright.’
The next day, I turned down Ashton’s offer to drive me and went to work on my own.
When lunchtime came, I had no appetite, but Priya dragged me out anyway. ‘You need to eat to keep your strength up,’ she insisted. ‘You’re still recovering. You need proper nourishment.’
We’d just reached the front door when I saw Rhys waiting outside.
Remembering the last time Rhys had caused a scene, Priya immediately eyed him with suspicion.
‘Let’s have lunch,’ Rhys got straight to the point.
‘I’m having lunch with my colleague,’ I refused outright.
‘I have news about your father. Don’t you want to hear it?’
Priya leaned in and whispered, ‘Do you want me to call the police?’
I shook my head.
Taking the hint, Priya said, ‘I’ll be right over there,’ and shot a warning look at Rhys before stepping away.
I turned to Rhys. ‘You’d better not be lying to me.’
‘I’m not.’ A slight smile touched his lips now that I’d agreed, and he led me to a nearby restaurant.
‘Well? You can talk now,’ I said the moment we sat down.
Rhys looked at me, a pained expression on his face. ‘Are you really that uncomfortable just being near me?’
‘I told you, my husband gets jealous.’
‘Don’t give me that. If you’re going to make excuses, at least make them convincing. I know a thing or two about what’s going on between you two.’
‘That’s between my husband and me. It’s none of your business. I don’t care what you think you know, I don’t want to hear it.’ I fixed him with a cold stare. ‘Are you going to tell me about Frank or not?’
‘I know where he is. Or, was.’ Rhys took out his phone and played a recording.
I recognised Clive Granger’s voice immediately. It was muffled, as if coming from behind a closed door.
Rhys explained, ‘I recorded this when the old man was in his study.’
The recording continued. Clive was talking to someone, his voice rising in anger. ‘...no! That’s not my problem... I can’t... it’s too much... don’t you dare!...’
I frowned, concentrating, trying to piece it together.
Then the second man’s voice came through, and I froze completely.
Hearing Rhys tell me my father was alive was one thing. Hearing his voice, even just on a recording, was something else entirely.
Frank Vance’s voice was just as I remembered, though maybe a little raspier, like he’d taken up smoking. Unlike Clive’s shouting, he spoke in a calmer, more measured tone, but his lower volume made some words hard to catch.
I managed to pick out snippets: ‘...rely on you... nowhere else... old friends... I’ll have to do it, though I’d prefer we don’t come to that...’
Clive shouted something angrily, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps, like he was pacing.
Then: ‘How much?’
Frank said something I couldn’t make out.
The recording cut off abruptly.
I looked at Rhys.
He said, ‘I was standing outside the old man’s study. Daniel showed up, so I had to leave.’
‘My father went to see your father,’ I said aloud, trying to process what I’d just heard.
Rhys nodded. ‘They were friends. Well, they used to be. They had a lot of business dealings together back in the day.’
I remembered. The Vances and the Grangers had always been close. Rhys had spent so much time at our house as a kid; it was a big part of why he’d fallen for Catherine.
Rhys continued, ‘I suppose Frank was asking for help. He needed money.’
I nodded. That much had been clear from the recording. It also sounded like Frank had some kind of leverage over Clive.
‘Did your father end up giving him the money?’ I asked.
‘No idea,’ Rhys said. ‘But my guess would be no, because the old man skipped town the day after this conversation. Probably trying to dodge Frank.’
Before he went to prison, my father had lived a very comfortable life. He had a taste for nice things: big houses, luxury goods. It made sense he’d need money now that he was out.
I wondered if he’d already tried contacting my mother, but I doubted she’d take him in. They were still husband and wife, and she’d always shared his appetite for the good life. Now that Frank was broke, would she even want him around?
Was that why he’d gone to Clive?
And now that Clive had also run off, who would Frank turn to next?
‘You,’ Rhys said, as if he’d read my mind. ‘I’m worried Frank will come after you next.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘I’ve changed my number, and he doesn’t know where I live.’
He did know where Ashton’s house was, though. He’d been there before.
But would Frank be bold enough, or stupid enough, to try and squeeze money out of Ashton?
I wouldn’t bet on it.
He was always the type to bully the weak and fear the strong. If he thought there was someone he could push around for cash, it would be me, or Caroline, or Catherine.
Never Ashton.
‘I’ll find a technician to clean up the recording. We might be able to hear more,’ Rhys said. ‘I think I vaguely heard Frank mention an address. Could be where he’s staying, or at least it’s a clue.’
It was a sensible idea. ‘I can handle that. Can you send me a copy?’
Rhys took his phone back and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Not so fast.’