Sweet Seduction Sayonara by Nicola Claire Page B

again, I watch the SUV that follows twenty metres behind me.
    I don’t really take in much detail of Momo’s shop, which is ironic. No, my attention is all on the SUV that follows and the passenger in the front who’s nothing more than a dark shadow, but the flare of light on a camera lens is obvious.
    As he takes pictures of me stalking Momoko Tanaka.
    Well now, that just creeps me the fuck out, doesn’t it.
    Is this her over-protective father? It’s not an ASI SUV, I know their licence plate numbers. And Koki rides a Honda CBR 650. I’m betting Mr Tanaka senior isn’t aware of me yet. Koki hasn’t got that much of a vindictive streak. If he wanted me to back off, he’d say so to my face.
    No, this has to be the Triads. Which makes no fucking sense at all. Because if the Triads are after Momoko, then why aren’t they following her?
    I drive past her shop again and this time flick a glance toward the front window. Flowers of every colour and hue are displayed in stands, but not like any other florist I’ve ever seen. These ones are in wooden barrels with bamboo hoops circled around them at strategic intervals. They’re very Japanese. Rustic looking, but against the plethora of colourful blooms they look striking.
    The entire store looks striking. From the cherry blossom decorations to the shoji style sliding doors, it’s refined and homely all in one.
    And it’s popular. It’s not even nine in the morning and Momoko’s store is busy. Viaduct Basin normally doesn’t get going until coffee hour, but there are a number of office blocks nearby, and those inside Momo’s shop are all in business suits. And they’re buying up large.
    I smile. Momo’s a successful business owner. I’m almost bursting with pride and desperate to pull over and walk inside that shop and watch her work.
    But I eye that damned SUV behind me, the camera still clicking away madly - especially since I’ve slowed down to perve - and scowl instead.
    This will not do. Not do at all.
    I let out a slow breath of air and abandon my surveillance. The experiment worked, insomuch as it showed increased interest from the trailing Triads. They don’t like me being anywhere near Momoko and I can’t work out why that might be.
    Maybe they just want to know if their message left at my house last night has been received. It clearly hasn’t, so they're taking photographic evidence to show their boss, and later today I’m going to find out what that means.
    Not if I can fucking help it.
    I stop circling Momoko’s block and head back out onto Fanshawe Street. The SUV follows. I could try to lose it on the way, but I have no idea how to achieve that. So, I shrug my shoulders and drive as if I haven’t got a care in the world. Then hit the motorway and floor it.
    The Lexus RC 350 F is a performance engineered racing machine. It hugs the corners and flies over the hills. But on the Southern Motorway at nine on a Tuesday morning it is severely hampered. I make it maybe one hundred metres before I hit the early morning rush.
    The SUV lumbers up in my rearview mirror and I feel like a chump.
    There’s nothing for it, they’ll just have to follow. Maybe they won’t think anything of it, if I park around the back of the building and not underneath in the garage. ASI owns their entire building on Broadway, but the carpark out the back runs along behind several others. It could be assumed I’m visiting one of those.
    A long shot, but I don’t know what else to do. I struggle through the morning traffic and take the Gillies Ave offramp. The snarl is just as bad here. Even with spasmodic traffic light changes, the SUV stays on my tail the entire way to Anscombe Securities and Investigations.
    The only time I lose sight of it is as I pull into the rear parking area behind the row of buildings on this side of Broadway. No one else is parked back here, but I’m not worried. Eric and Amber would be well aware that I had arrived and someone would be heading to