Katy Snyder listened intently and interjected herself into the conversation. “You would think that someone who designs lingerie would be a little wilder,” she suggested.
Okay, this could get ugly.
Tori simply shrugged. “I am, but flashy in the bedroom isn't necessarily appropriate in public. I want to look elegant enough to attract my husband, and then when he undresses me, that’s when he gets the big surprise. Lingerie should be the icing on the cake, not the calling card that gets you attention. If you reverse that order, you look cheap. Trust me, Mrs. Snyder, I’m far from that.”
The woman looked irritated when Lorelei laughed.
Beverly Curry was now moving in on the conversation too. “I agree. Today’s women show too much of the stuff that’s for husband’s eyes only.”
Since Lorelei and Tori were about the same age, their hostess rolled her eyes for only Tori to see. It spoke volumes.
“Victoria, would you like to go riding with me tomorrow?” she inquired. “Maybe we can race again.”
“Will your cousin be joining us?” she asked.
“Why?” she replied.
Tori opted to be honest. “He’s a letch, and I want to watch my husband kick his ass. Think of it as my post breakfast entertainment.”
Lorelei burst into laughter. “You are priceless.”
It wasn’t hard to notice that the women around them weren’t smiling. Apparently, the green eyed monster had arrived.
“I would love to ride with you. What time?”
“How about we say nine?”
Tori was good with that. When Lorelei walked away, she could overhear the two women, specifically Bev, commenting on their hostess playing favorites. She wasn’t about to let that bother her. There was a job to be done, and she was going to make sure it was taken care of. Since Katy Snyder was so interested in her, she was going to turn it around.
“So, where are you from, ladies?” she asked.
Beverly wasn’t shy in the least. “We’re from this area. I was born and raised here. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. The derby is like a siren’s song, calling me home.”
Katy was incredibly quiet.
“I’m from out west,” Tori offered. “I love it, except for the heavy snow. How about you, Katy?” she asked, putting her on the spot.
“We don’t get snow in Georgia.”
“Oh, then you don’t know what you’re missing,” Tori said, trying to be friendly. She could tell the woman didn't like having her life pried into. Tori felt the same way, and turnabout was fair play in her book.
Pulling out her cell, she sent Christina a text. They were all here, and it was safe. This was going to take some time. The milliner was still working on Candy West’s hat.
Bev continued the chitchat, mostly discussing the upcoming derby and festivities on Friday night. Tori was good with the distraction. As long as the older woman kept talking, they were all going to be stuck there for a while. When she glanced over at Katy, she was sticking close and watching Tori suspiciously.
It was like she was instructed to stay nearby.
Something wasn’t right. Her sixth sense was going off in her head. Maybe now was her chance to get in some equal observation time.
Two can play at this game.
Whatever the hell it was.
* * *
When she got the text, she nodded to her fiancé. It was time to move. They had previously heard from Julian and now Tori. All the players in the game were occupied, and the last people to avoid were just the house staff.
Waiting until the housekeeper, Sharla Wheaton, left the Snyder’s room, they quietly snuck in behind her. Using a credit card, Kane slipped it down the crack and popped the lock. These old doors were nothing to break into.
Inside, they noticed that the room was set up similarly to theirs. While Christina kept the door open a tiny crack to watch the hallway and stairs, he began digging around cautiously in their still packed bags. It was like they were waiting to escape on a minute’s notice.
That seemed weird.
Who went to a two week long derby, only to keep their things ready for a night escape?
Flipping through a binder, he found the rental receipt for their car, and he snapped a picture of it with his phone. This might help them. It seemed to be a fairly local address.
The Snyder’s didn't live far away.
Then, that puzzled him.
“What did you find?” she asked from across the room when he stopped moving.
“Car rental paperwork, but it seems off.”
Christina glanced over. “Why?”
“They live forty minutes from here, but they have a rental car,” he stated.
“Maybe they had an accident recently and needed to rent one,” she offered, handing out the most logical reason that she could come up with in a moment’s notice.
Christina was always the voice of reason when they worked.
Kane considered it. Digging further into his bag, he found something that made his stomach churn. “I found a Glock.”
Christina stared over wide eyed. “Only one?”
He glanced at the flight tag on the bag. It was registered to Stephen Snyder. “Yeah, it’s in the husband’s.”
“Keep searching,” she urged.
When Kane came up empty, he put everything back where he found it. Then he saw the piece of tape on the corner of the bag. “Shit, they had this marked.”
Carefully, he put it back in its exact place.
Christina rested her hand over her precious cargo.
“We need to get out of here and regroup. Just because they’re carrying a weapon doesn’t make them guilty. This is the south. More people tote concealed firearms than not, but what concerns me most is how they were marking their things. The average person doesn’t do that.”
Christina was beginning to get worried.
“Still think the rental car is a coincidence?” he asked.
Christina shook her head.
“No, there’s something definitely up. It looks like the boss man and Tori’s suspicions were right.”
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, grabbing her hand. “I don’t want you, or my child, in danger.” Yeah, and it looked like bad things were brewing. Kane was a nervous wreck.
Out in the hall, he casually dropped his arm around her shoulders, as they walked back to their own room.
“I’m safe, big guy. After all, I’m with you.”
Kane only hoped that statement would be one hundred percent accurate.
* * *
Julian received a text stating that they were out of the room and needed a meeting later. That didn't exactly make him nervous, and yet there was this inkling of wariness. The entire time they were walking down to the skeet shooting range, Stephen Snyder openly observed him. You could tell that he didn't miss much, as his eyes remained firmly locked on every one of Julian’s actions.
It made him wary.
His instinct told him that something was going on at the estate, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on it quite yet.
On their expedition to the skeet shoot, they were finally able to meet Jonathan Hesser. He was an incredibly calm and genuinely nice man. In his early sixties, he promptly shook everyone’s hands and apologized for being so busy with the horse duties.
He was more than pleasant, and it made the morning more relaxing and calm. When he started handing out cigars, Julian declined.
“Don’t smoke?” the older man said.
“No, I don’t,” he replied. “My wife doesn’t like the smell of them, and I like cuddling up to her,” he answered. If he was going to pump any of these men for information, he needed to appear to share some details of his personal life.
“Which one is yours?” asked Jonathan, as he loaded his skeet gun.
Fredrick chimed in without hesitation, “He’s bagging the hot redhead with the smoking body.”
Julian blew the comment off, simply
because he was accustomed to men checking out his wife, and because jealousy was a dangerous thing. It almost cost him his wife once before and he wasn’t going there. Julian was secure with his marriage, and in all honestly, Fredrick had accurately described Tori.
“I never remarried after my wife died twenty years ago,” offered Jonathan, as he prepared for his first shot. “Pull!” he yelled.
The man took two shots and the clay disk exploded in the air.
Fredrick lined up and loaded his weapon. “I can’t imagine living a celibate life for that long. It sucks to be you.”
When he took aim, he hit his target on the second shot.
Julian knew it was his turn and loaded his gun. “If you met the woman who was your soul mate, you would know why that sentence is bullshit,” he added. “Pull.”
Julian hit his on the first shot.
“I’d say good shot, but you are Indian. It’s probably genetic," Fredrick stated snidely.
Julian discharged the casings and stepped back. “Yeah, so is scalping loud mouthed white men, who think they’re deserving of self-indulgence, so I’d tread lightly. You never know if I’ll go all Native on you.”
Jonathan laughed. “He’s got a point, Fredrick.”
The rest of the men took their turns and it became crystal clear who could handle a gun and who couldn’t. Richard Curry couldn’t hit the side of a barn if his life depended on it, and Stephen Snyder was an excellent shot.
That caused a little wariness in his gut. Skeet shooting wasn’t easy. Unlike taking out a stationary target, this sport took more skill. Julian had hunted game through the woods, and that helped his eye hand coordination. Now, he wondered what Stephen Snyder hunted.
Hopefully not people.
Before the men could begin to reload and take their second shot, there were angry yells coming from behind them. Everyone turned at the commotion.
It was a little shocking, since some man was screaming obscenities and open threats at the head Hesser. How stupid could one person be? Who threatens a man with a gun?
Yeah, that was smart…
“I need to talk to you!” the small man shouted at Jonathan Hesser.
“Not now, Timmy. We can discuss business later. This is my down time, and you’re ruining it for me. I need a break from work for a while, or I’ll really be cranky.”
Despite the warning, the man didn't give up.
“You promised me practice time on the horse, and now all of the sudden I find that I’m booted from the rotation. Why?”
The man shrugged. “In your contract, you weren’t supposed to exceed the weight limit. You’re over as of your last check in. You know that we get one shot at the derby, and I’m not taking a risk of losing it because the horse has to tote your fat ass around the track.”
Yowza! Jonathan Hesser didn't pull any punches.
Julian was a little surprised at the man’s change in nature. When he told them earlier that he loved his horses, he wasn’t kidding. They seemed to supersede a human being’s feelings.
“I was retaining fluid. If you weighed me now, I’m under by two pounds!”
Jonathan reloaded. “Pull!” he yelled, before hitting his next clay target. “I’m sorry, Timmy, but you’re bumped from the rotation until the next weigh in. You knew that going in, and if it’s water or fat, it doesn’t matter to the horse.”
“But…”
He was cut off. “That’s my baby you’re riding around that track. You’re not borrowing a car for a joy ride. This is more than important and if you can’t get that, then pack your shit and get out of the clubhouse!”
“I’ll sue you!”
The man puffed on his cigar. “Then, I suggest you call a lawyer. If you manage to win, then I’ll gladly write that check out. It’ll be worth it to see you stand in a courtroom in front of all those people and telling them you lost your job because you gained weight. Don’t screw with me, Timmy. You’ll be sorry.”
The man flipped him off and stormed away.
Immediately, Jonathan apologized for the outburst. “I’m sorry. I hate to be nasty to people, but jockeys can be like debutants. They have lots of high maintenance demands. You need to shut them down fast, or you have a monster in the making.”
“I wouldn’t stress it, Uncle. We all know the truth. The little man is replaceable.”
Jonathan laughed. “He’ll calm down. We’ll talk it out in the next few days, and Timmy will get over it.”
Julian didn't buy that. He’d just emasculated a man in front of other men, and that, in his book, was an unforgivable thing.
“Now, let’s get back to this shoot. I need to focus on something other than jockeys!” Jonathan demanded.
“Yeah, well, if you weren’t celibate, old man, you’d have other things to think about.”
The rest of Fredrick’s sentence was beyond vulgar, and most of the men laughed. Julian just shook his head and loaded his gun. Sometimes, he just didn't get people.
This was one of those times.
* * *
As soon as possible, she made a break for it. One of the last things that she wanted to do was to sit around and have afternoon cocktails. Yes, they were there to blend in and act a part, but even Tori only had so much patience and ability to not lose her mind.
Besides, the idea of spending the time with William was a far better prospect in her book. At least she could learn something about the case they were working, and find a place to hide from the speculative stares of the women.
Other than Lorelei, she didn't like any of them. That was odd, since Tori generally got along with everyone.
Oh well.
Walking down the street, she took in the beautiful day and was glad to get some sun. While the day had started bad, it was vastly improving. Yeah, picking out a hat was torture, but at least it caused her to focus on something other than her marriage and what had happened between her and Julian.
Part of her wanted to ask her hostess if anything ‘weird’ had ever happened to her personally, but how exactly did you bring up that kind of topic. Yeah, they really would think she was nutty if she asked her about being possessed by the spirit of a dead woman who liked rough sex.
It was all too absurd.
Then again, Tori had seen some crazy shit in her life. It wasn’t like she didn't actually believe in spirits. Being part of the Littlemoon family, she had watched them set a special place for the spirit of their deceased husband, and father, when they had a holiday.
If Julian’s family believed that the dead walked among them, who was she to disparage it? Deep in her heart, she wanted to believe it was some sort of blackout, but as she began recalling parts of the moments before, it was doubtful.
There were the icy cold fingers, and then how they paused at her stomach. Tori immediately placed her hand there, wondering what it all meant. In combination with the words Julian told her that she whispered, it was causing a freak out.
This was the wrong time and place to be worrying or thinking about any of this. If she scared herself, shortly following would be the loss of control and the plunge into the darkness. Since Julian wasn’t here to anchor her, she was going to have to let it go.
No, she needed to stop the insanity.
It was only a dream, and they were fine.
Right?
It didn't matter, because ultimately there was a job to do, and like when she was a soldier, her personal needs had to be put on the back burner.
This was for the good of the whole, not the single person. Wasn’t that something her father had always taught her? In fact, he said it a lot in reference to her mother when she left.
Wow!
Where did that come from?
Obviously, she had motherhood on the brain, since she hadn’t thought about that woman in a long time. It was as if the universe was screwing with her lately.
At this point, all that Tori wanted was to go the hell home. Maybe taking this assignment was a huge mistake. What she want
ed was to find the Bible and get back to Delta Falls. At least there, she would be centered.
There was no place like home.
Walking up to the door, Tori pulled it open and stepped inside. The cheery ringing of bells announced her arrival, and her nerves abated. Inside, she felt the welcoming peace that surrounded William Macavoy.
This was what she needed after being trapped with the catty rich wives.
Glancing over to the reading chair, and the tiny table beside it, she saw a book that wasn’t there the previous day. Well, that had to be what William had been talking about. Tori was a little disappointed since she kind of hoped that she would get to see William and spend some time talking to him about the information. He was just this grandfather-like man who made her feel calm.
What she could really use now was a big dose of that in her life. Calling to him, she hoped that maybe he was just back in his office, buried in a good book.
Tori wondered if she should sneak back and see if he was around. Surely, he wouldn’t be upset, since he never locked his doors.
“William! It’s Tori, are you here?” she called, walking down the barely lit hall. “I saw the book and wanted to thank you,” she said, tucking it in her purse for safe keeping. God forbid she place it down back here, losing it all over again.
“William?” she called again.
As she approached the doorway, she picked up a familiar odor, and it set her heart racing. Being an ex-Fed, the scent of death was something that she would never forget.
How could she?
It was burned into her brain and soul.
Rounding the corner, she saw the toppled mess and the puddling of blood escaping from under the collapsed shelf. Oh no! This was beyond bad!
“William!” she shouted, racing to his side. Trying to not touch anything, she knelt beside the case and reached under to touch his neck.
Yeah, it was too late.
There wasn’t a pulse.
Well shit!
Lost & Broken (LIttlemoon Investigations Book 2) Page 15