Hit by Tara Moss

afternoon.’
    Loulou had asked—no, pleaded—for Mak to see Brenda Bale, a woman who had a few psychological issues she wanted to work through. They had a session for an hour every Friday in Mak’s living room. Loulou had seen Mak at her worst and stood by her as a true friend, and so when Loulou had begged her to talk to this woman as a ‘huge favour’, Mak had caved in, agreeing to a session or two.
    So far it had been every Friday for nine weeks.
    ‘Oh! I can’t thank you enough,’ Loulou squealed again. ‘Brenda says it is sooooo helpful. Really. It’s helping her big-time.’
    ‘I feel like a bit of a fraud, you know. She would probably benefit a lot more from seeing a real therapist.’
    ‘But you are a shrink,’ Loulou said, confused.
    ‘Yes, but I don’t specialise in the right field. She needs a… different kind of psychologist. Trust me.’
    ‘It’s helping her so much, though. She’s really grateful.’
    Mak wasn’t charging Brenda for the weekly sessions, although truthfully she could use every cent she could scrape together.
    The friends downed a few pieces of California roll and fought over the last piece of inari.
    ‘I got a new assignment today. An investigation,’ Mak said with a slight smile. It was exciting—an assignment just big enough to feel like a real job.
    Loulou sat forward, extra-attentive. ‘So what is it? What are you working on?’ She gestured to the file. ‘T-o-b-i-a-s M-u-r-p-h-y’ she read upside down off the folder.
    ‘I just got it today, so I only have the most basic details. It’s confidential, of course, so I can’t say much.’ Mak pulled the folder away from Loulou’s prying eyes.
    Loulou worked away on another California roll and her can of soft drink. ‘Come on. I wouldlove to go on one of your stakeouts. Pleeease? I’m sure I could help!’
    ‘Loulou.’
    ‘Please? I think it is so cool that I have a friend who’s a PI.’
    Mak rolled her eyes.
    ‘Well! What is it? Another bastard cheating on his wife? Are you gonna nail him?’
    Mak smiled. ‘Actually, it’s not a marital case this time at all. It’s a bit more interesting…’

CHAPTER 9
    The phone call came to Jack Cavanagh’s city office just after two.
    Joy Fregon, Jack Cavanagh’s loyal secretary, put the call through. ‘Mr Cavanagh, there is a man on line one who wants to speak to you. He won’t give his name and he says that he doesn’t want an appointment.’ She sounded a touch anxious, which was out of character for her.
    Jack shook his head. ‘Well, tell him to go away,’ he said impatiently.
    ‘Um, Mr Cavanagh, he says he wants to speak to you about Damien. ’ She paused. ‘I wonder what you would like me to do?’
    Jack sat forwards in his leather chair, brow furrowed. What in God’s name has my son done now? A jet drifted through the blue sky outside his window, the city bustling on the streets far below. He shifted, contemplating what to do.
    ‘That’s okay, Joy,’ he finally replied. ‘Put him through.’
    ‘Yes, Mr Cavanagh,’ she said.
    Jack braced himself for some unpleasantness.He picked up the receiver and pressed the flashing line button. ‘This is Jack Cavanagh.’
    ‘We have some business to discuss,’ came a muffled voice down the line.
    ‘To whom am I speaking?’
    ‘I’m the man who is doing a favour for your son,’ came the response.
    ‘Is that so?’
    ‘The favour is that I am coming to you first. I am giving you a chance to make me happy before I go to the press.’
    Jack tensed and sat up in his chair. Go to the press with what?
    ‘Your son has some rather unsavoury private activities. I think you will want these activities of his to remain private.’
    Blackmail. This arsehole thinks he’s going to blackmail me.
    Jack’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t the first time he had been threatened. Men like this made him furious—men who wanted something for nothing because they were too damned lazy to do the work for themselves.
    ‘And what