I was shaken, and I wasn’t ready to have a deep conversation with Dana about his denial—which I found still hurt my feelings. I needed to focus on who the heck had shot Lida and tried to take me out, too. Who knew we were going to meet besides maybe Lurch?
Had he seen Lida pass me that note at the Endicotts’ before he’d virtually carried me to the front door? Why would he care if she met me anyway? Would Harris or Rosemary care, either?
I mean, surely Rosemary and Harris weren’t out running around in the woods trying to take out their maid, were they? Sure, Harris was a hunter, but he was the kind of hunter who sat in a hut and waited for his prey to come to him while he drank expensive booze and yucked it up with his hunting buddies. I had to doubt he was out crawling through the woods in the pouring rain.
When I finished explaining to Dana what happened, I was about to ask him if I could go when he flipped his trusty pad shut and eyed me closer, pressing his fingertips to my cheekbone.
“You’re all scratched up, Stevie. Let’s get you to the hospital, too, and they can clean you up.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “I broke my butt, remember? I don’t need to go to the hospital for some scratches. I’m going because I want to see to Lida, and I’m also going to call Kirkland. He’d want to know she’s been injured.”
Dana stood up, leaning his arm on my door as rain continued to slide over his slicker. “Are they close?”
Using the back of my hand, I pushed my wet hair out of my face. “I don’t know. I got the impression she’s more a mother figure to him than a maid because his parents are so horrible, and she’s so sweet and considerate. I don’t know if it’s a case of she did most of the raising while his rich parents jet-set about the country and ignored him, or if she’s just that way to begin with. I don’t know how long she’s been with the Endicotts.
“I do know, they stink as parents. They don’t approve of his lifestyle, and they approved even less of him marrying Wade. And they’re mean, shallow people. I know that, too. Now, I have a hospital to get to. So if we’re done here, remove your Hulk-like frame from my door so I can go, please.”
He gave me one last look, his eyes softer than they’d been in a long time—since before we’d told him about us. “Stevie—”
“Not today, Satan.” I gave him a small shove with my hand to his waist. “Not today.”
“Yeah! What she said. Bye, Dana!” Bel squeaked with a giggle as I closed the door.
“Bel, we need to knock it off right now,” I ordered, preparing to back out of the parking lot, now filled with police. “Both of us. I was wrong for goading him, too.”
“Oh, bananas! Dana can go kick rocks. Tell me I don’t exist…” Belfry murmured. “I showed him, didn’t I?”
I ignored Bel’s petty retort and focused on getting to the hospital.
As I was about to put my foot on the gas, something scraped along the floor of my car. I shook my foot and realized something was stuck to the bottom of my boot.
Leaning forward, I felt along the sole of my boot until I touched something wet and soggy. I peeled it off and was about to throw it in the small bag I kept for garbage in my car…when the color of the paper caught my eye.
It was red. It was a red business card.
And the card read, Divinia.
“Stephania! Dove, are you all right?” Win asked as he rushed toward me from the emergency room doors, his face full of concern.
I jumped up, running a hand through my filthy hair, and let him pull me into his strong embrace. Hunkering down against his chest, I nodded, not even thinking about the mess I was going to leave on his sweater, simply grateful to still be alive.
“I’m fine,” I whispered. “Hardly a scratch.”
He tipped my chin up and assessed my face. “Dove, that’s not ‘hardly a scratch.’” He trailed his fingertips over my skin. “You’ve really done it to your face. Let’s get it cleaned up, shall we?”
But I shook my head. “It really isn’t a big deal. It looks worse than it is. I washed up and put on some antiseptic cream I had in my purse.”
Win reached up and plucked something from my hair then showed me a small clump of dried dirt. “I’m afraid no amount of antiseptic will help your hair. Let’s get you home so you can bathe and I’ll properly address those scratches.”
I shook my head again. “Nope. I go nowhere until I hear an update on Lida. I need to know what’s happening. I heard lots of muttering about her heart and surgery, but no one will tell me what’s going on because I’m not a relative. Now, what are you doing here?”
He brushed his hands free of the dirt from my hair. “Belfry called to tell me you were coming here after your disastrous meeting with Lida. The moment I heard, I called an Uber and headed here. Bel said she’d been shot? How is she?”
“I haven’t heard a word from anyone since the ambulance brought her in. I did call Kirkland, who’s on his way, and of course, those awful Endicotts, but truthfully, they sounded angrier that I’d awakened them than concerned about Lida.”
Gosh, I despised those two. I didn’t feel this kind of disgust often, but Harris and Rosemary were making up for it in spades.
“Bloody hell, Stephania, what happened, and why didn’t you wake me so I could accompany you to this meeting?”
I leaned back in his arms and explained the note from Lida, what happened at Kirkland’s nursery, and the red business card.
Frowning, he took the water-stained business card from me and gave it a scowl. “More of this Divinia, eh?”
“Uh-huh. But I have no idea what it means. Still, now I know it’s significant to Wade’s death. I mean, why would Wade have the card tucked away with a flogger, and why would I find the card where Lida was shot if it wasn’t somehow all connected?”
“I can’t see you randomly stepping on a business card so unique—one Wade also had in his possession—if it isn’t connected. But I don’t understand it any better than you.” He paused a moment and ran a hand over his stubbled chin. “Wait, as you’ll recall, Wade’s spirit did mention a club, correct? In that gobbledygook of words, he mentioned a club, which we thought might have to do with horses because of the riding crop, which was possibly meant to represent a flogger… Maybe the club he was talking about has something to do with Divinia? A club would have a business card, wouldn’t it?”
“But it’s such a vague card. It has no information on it at all…” And then a thought hit me. “The card is sort of a sexy red, don’t you think? Or maybe seductive is more the word. And it’s elusive, with nothing more than a name on it, which could suggest exclusivity, right? Maybe like an exclusive club? Now—seductive, mysterious card in sexy red with an even sexier name on it, a potential club, plus a flogger equals what?”
There was that tingle, slithering right up and down my spine.
Win looked at me, baffled. “Lida has an interesting personal life?”
I made a face at him and rolled my eyes. “There’s a reason she had this card, Win. I know there is. Why else would a woman like Lida, a woman who works as a maid—granted, for a heathen, but still a maid—have a card like this? What did she plan to tell me tonight? She said it was urgent, Win.”
Win popped his lips and rocked back on his heels. “You do realize all manner of people, from all walks of life, have, how shall I say this…intimate inclinations we’d never suspect. It’s the age-old story, Dove. Quiet, meek man who appears harmless goes on a killing spree. Soft-spoken, bookish woman owns a brothel. Simply because Lida appears quite average, doesn’t mean her private life is.”
Okay, that was fair, but it still didn’t feel right, and I said as much. “That all makes sense, but it doesn’t feel right. Because that would mean the urgent thing she wanted to tell me had to do with her private adventures. I doubt that was the intent. Maybe she knew Wade was into something Kirkland wasn’t aware of, and she was trying to give us a head’s up before he found out? I don’t know.” Squeezing my temples, I winced.
“I really don’t know. I think I’m going to go to the bathroom, and at the very least run a brush through my hair while I gather my thoughts. Text me if a doctor comes looking for me, would you, please?”
“Of course, Dove.”
I looked around to see where a sign for the bathroom was and headed that way, leaving a trail of dirt as I went. Pushing the door open, I caught a glimpse of myself in the long set of vertical mirrors under the bright fluorescent lights, and I almost laughed.
I was filthy from head to toe. Streaks of dried mud clung to my chin and forehead, where I hadn’t swiped at them with a tissue and some antiseptic when I’d arrived at the ER. My hands were smeared with brown dirt made worse by my hasty attempts to clean up a bit with a wet wipe.
My red windbreaker had crumpled bits of mudballs on it, too, but the worst of it was probably my hair. It stuck up in odd places and was matted in others with a crust of dirt. I looked like I’d wrestled pigs.
Setting the business card down on the sink’s countertop, I reached inside my purse, my hand brushing a sleeping Belfry’s back as I searched for my comb…when something caught my eye.
Scooping up the card, I turned it upward toward the light so it shone through the back of the paper—and blinked.
Then I blinked again and squinted.
Holy secret club! Apparently, the rain had washed some of the color from the card.
Revealing an address.
In Seattle…
Chapter 13
“I don’t know how I feel about this, Stephania. It’s dicey at best.”
I looked out the window at the trees whizzing by us as we zipped along the highway toward Seattle. “Well, we could ignore the only clue we’ve got and wait until Lida wakes up to ask her why she had this card with her. There’s always that. Or we could take the bull by the horns and be proactive.”
Win gripped the steering wheel tighter, his jaw tightening. “I’m still gobsmacked by Lida’s shooting.”
Nodding, I bit the inside of my cheek to avoid breaking into another round of tears. Last night in the ER, I’d been pretty pragmatic, but I have to think it’s because I was in the height of an emergency and I’m usually able to keep it together during times of crisis.
However, once we returned home, and I had time to think about the major surgery Lida had to endure due to the bullet nicking her heart, and how the doctors weren’t sure when she’d wake up or even if she’d wake up, I rather fell apart.
I hated the idea she might be alone, and I couldn’t allow that. For now, she was unconscious, but resting comfortably—which was the only way I was able to gather myself enough to make this outing.
But as soon as we finished this fishing expedition, I was going back to the hospital to sit with her, even if I had to Jell-O wrestle her doctor to get in the door because I’m not family.
Win, Bel, and Arkady were there to pick up the pieces, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that Lida’s life hung in the balance and there didn’t appear to be too many people from the Endicott family who cared one way or the other if she pulled through.
Except Kirkland. He’d sobbed as hard as the day we’d found Wade. Loretta had certainly appeared remorseful, but not quite the way Kirkland had, and I’m not sure if I can chalk it up to his emotional state already being quite fragile or a possible bond between them he hasn’t mentioned.
I intended to ask when he wasn’t so sick with grief. But only after we did this one little thing.
Turning to face Win, admiring his handsome profile in the dark of night with only the passing headlights of other cars to illuminate it, I wondered out loud, “I have no idea who would want to shoot Lida, but then, I’m still stumped about who’d want to strangle Wade, too. The only thing I have is, it has to be someone who might know whatever Lida knows and doesn’t want anyone else to know. Who else could that be other than that hunchback of a butler, or whatever he is, or Harris and Rosemary? And of those people, I have to wonder who of them would go out into the woods in the pouring rain to take shots at her? They don’t look like they even lift their own forks let alone go on a shooting spree.”
My Spy Guy’s shoulders lifted, making the material of his immaculate dark suit rustle. “Might I remind you, Harris hunts. That can be a physical sport, Stephania.”
I’d already thought of that earlier. “It can, but Harris hunts with his equally misogynistic friends in one of those cushy huts while they drink and take an occasional shot at anything that moves. I’d almost bet none of those kills he has hanging on his wall were even his. Whoever was shooting at us last night put some effort in.”
“Maybe there are other players we don’t yet know about. Maybe someone else who works for the Endicotts knows something, or has a secret they don’t want shared. I don’t think we have the full picture here, Dove.”
I snorted. “That’s definitely more likely than Harris or Rosemary going out of their way to trudge through the woods and shoot at their maid, wouldn’t you say?”
My intense dislike of those two managed to seep its way into every conversation we had about them, and I couldn’t help it.
Win nodded his dark head, his hair slicked back from his face in GQ fashion for our next avenue of investigation. “I would say, and they both claimed they were in bed when it happened. So they did have alibis—even if it’s only each other. Loretta was with Kirkland, both of them watching a movie. You’re correct in saying the suspect pool is quite shallow.”
Sighing, I pulled the reddest lipstick I owned (not normally my color) from my purse and reapplied it as Win took the exit into Seattle. “Are you nervous?”
He gave me a quick glance and a brief smile. “Not at all, Dove. You?”
Like a hen in a foxhole.
Smoothing my hands over my slinky Lycra red dress, I nodded. There was no point in lying. “Terrified. How often do I dress up like this and wear heels as high as the Empire State Building and a dress tighter than sausage casing just to ask people some questions while I pretend to be something I’m not?”
“This was your idea, Stephania. Surely, we could have found a way around it.”
My lips thinned. I’d heard all the reasons why we shouldn’t do this. “There’s no better way to get the answer to your questions than going straight to the source, and you know it. We just need to blend is all. I can blend. I’m sure I can blend…”
Dear Heaven, please help me blend.
Win reached over and took my hand. “Then it’s a good thing this is right up my alley. I promise you, all you have to do is follow my lead, Dove.”
“You mean the one that leads into the dungeon?”
Win barked a laugh. “If that’s where this clue is leading us, yes. You have nothing to be afraid of. If this place is what we think it is, and it’s legitimately an underground club, consent is always the priority, which removes all fear. Of that, I assure you.”
Win sure knew an awful lot about this variety of club, but that didn’t worry me. What worried me was pretending I knew anything about what we were potentially heading into.
I swallowed hard and wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs. “Arkady? Have you been to a place like this before?”
He grumbled a question for an answer. “Why do you ask, lemon chiffon?”
I almost giggled, because I was certain he likely had been to a place like the one we were visiting, and I’d appreciate some help with the bigger picture, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to give it to me unless it became absolutely necessary.
“Because I could use some tips on how not to blow my cover.”
“You just stay beside Zero, malutka. He will not let you blow cover.”
“And you keep avoiding my question, pal,” I said on a laugh. Folding my hands in my lap, I sighed, still not sure if we were chasing the right bone. “We don’t even know if we’re right about this being that kind of club, though. We only know what Kirkland said about the area it’s located in—which he seemed to know a fair bit abo
ut, by the way.”
“Firstly, Dove, I can’t be sure, but I believe Divinia is either a BDSM club or a swingers’ club. That’s what they’re called, and if I’ve learned anything over my years as a spy, we must respect their appropriate labels. Secondly, Kirkland knows Seattle well, and he said the address on the Divinia card was an area quite popular for underground clubs. When one puts two and two together, they typically get four. Either way, it’s worth some investigation merely due to the fact that both Wade and Lida had this alleged club’s business card.”
As we traveled through the streets of downtown Seattle, going deeper into the belly of the bustling city, and the scenery began to change to darker back alleys and warehouses, my heart began to pound again.
I attempted a deep breath in my too tight dress. “If nothing else, they clearly want to stay hidden. I mean, who creates a business card that you have to get wet to reveal the address of the business? I guess it only stands to reason it’s a private club. But I’m telling you now, I’m almost afraid of what we’ll find. And I don’t mean because Wade might have had less than vanilla tendencies before he met Kirkland. I don’t care at all about that. I care about why this club is so secretive and what kind of secrets it holds. They can’t be good.”
“I can tell you from experience, malutka, many rich, powerful men—and women, too—do not wish to have their intimate preferences revealed and they will go to large extremes to keep the secrets,” Arkady reminded me.
Witch Perfect (Witchless in Seattle Mysteries Book 11) Page 13