Invisibility Cloak

by Jill Elaine Prim

“How about I start with you, asshole?” Ryder grabbed him by the collar and pushed his fist into his pansy-ass expression. “What did you do?”

  “I don’t have the vaguest idea what you are talking about.” Smeth waved him off with the only hand not pinned against the wall. “Now shoo. Go find your own date.”

  “Where’s Amanda?” Ryder snarled a second time.

  “Ryder.” Sophia came up behind him and placed her hand on the arm that gripped Smeth by the neck. “What are you two doing? This is a country club.” She leaned in closer to Ryder’s ear. “If you want to get rough, we can leave right now.” She smiled. “And go back to my place.”

  No way. Shuddering at the thought, he eased his grip up on Smeth.

  Jeffrey frowned at him as he tucked his shirt and suit back in place. “I do need to go find Amanda, because she did say she wasn’t feeling well. Did you see her in the ladies lounge, Sophia?”

  She licked her lips. “No. I was just in there too. It was empty except for Mimi and me, that is.”

  Smeth adjusted his suit cuffs. “Well, I’ll have to look around for her then.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Ryder walked up beside Jeffrey.

  Jeffrey stopped and put his hand up. “I’ll go find my date, myself.” Pointing his finger at Ryder, he ordered, “You go with your own date.”

  “Come on, Ryder.” Sophia looped her arm around his. “I need a drink.”

  He grudgingly nodded; he could use a drink as well. But damn it, he was worried about Amanda.

  “Look, Ryder.” Sophia pointed to a cluster of people milling around the dining tables with drinks in their hands. “There’s Mimi and Roger. They said they’d save a seat for us.” She pulled him in their direction. Roger’s head was turned as he spoke to someone on his left, but his arm encircled his wife with his other hand.

  Ryder had to admit, Mimi Carlyle was a looker, but definitely not his type. Hell, she looked like she was ready to walk 22nd Street after the dinner dance. Her dress looked painted on, with the halter front dipping down to her navel and only glittery laces bringing the left and right side of the dress together. She was in a deep conversation with General Holmes. The short, gray-haired man looked intense as he spoke and Mimi nodded every so often.

  When Sophia finally dragged him to the table, she draped her purse over an empty seat, and exclaimed, “There you are, Roger! Have you seen Jeffrey and Amanda?”

  “Yes.” Roger pointed to his index finger in to the hallway that led to the restrooms. “But, Amanda doesn’t look so good.”

  Ryder’s gaze followed where Roger indicated and he jumped out of his seat. Amanda’s face was pasty white.

  “Ryder, where are you going?” Sophia asked as he walked away from the table.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ryder said over his shoulder. Amanda leaned back against the wall while Jeffrey hovered over her. They appeared to be discussing something, but he couldn’t hear their low murmurings. As he approached, all he could see was Amanda, and she had wrapped both arms around her stomach with her head bowed down.

  “Amanda, are you okay?” He barked out as he came up next to her.

  She pulled her pale face up and stammered, “I, I think I’m coming down with something, Ryder. I’m going to have Jeffrey take me back home.”

  Smeth’s chin jumped in the air and his eyes narrowed. Ryder wanted to punch the asshole for giving him that See, I told you so look.

  “Amanda, let me take you home.” Ryder reached out to her.

  “No, please stay, Ryder.” Her green eyes met his. “I’m just going home to sleep, anyway. I don’t want to spoil your evening as well.”

  “Amanda . . .” Hell, he didn’t even want to be here. And if she was going, he wanted to get out of here, too.

  “I’m taking her home, Stevenson. She’s my date!” Jeffrey pulled Amanda away and walked to the front of the club.

  There was nothing Ryder could do, so he watched Smeth navigate her to the front door. He stalked behind them until he saw the valet bring Smeth’s car around. Satisfied she was on her way home to sleep off whatever bug she had, he turned back to the dining area.

  Sophia waved at him as he entered the dining hall. “Ryder, I ordered you a beer.”

  “Thank you, Sophia.” He needed a drink. Or two.

  Along with the Carlyles, there were two other couples seated at their table.

  “Ryder, you already know Mimi and Roger.” Sophia motioned with her hand to the Carlyles as they glibly raised their hands in greeting. “This is Ramone and Selena Perez.” Gesturing to another couple he’d never met before.

  Ryder reached across the table and shook their hands.

  “And this is Eduardo and Camila Garcia. All dear friends of mine.”

  He extended his arm. “Nice to meet you folks.”

  Mimi stood. “Sophia, will you come to the woman’s lounge with me?”

  “Of course.” Edgington stood up and touched Ryder’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Order me a Fuzzy Navel Martini will you?”

  “Sure,” he said and studied the other couples at the table with him. They looked vaguely familiar. All very attractive in a designer labels way.

  “So how do you all know Sophia?” Ryder asked to make casual conversation.

  “Oh, we go way back.” Camila Perez flipped her dark silky hair over one shoulder.

  “Oh? Know her from high school?” He took a deep drink of his beer.

  “Yes, actually,” Camila said.

  Intrigued now, Ryder’s mind thought on where in Arizona they all attended school. “Whereabouts?” He shifted in his seat. “Phoenix? Tucson? Or around there?”

  “Ha,” Selena Perez’s eyebrows jumped up, her expression sardonic. “We all attended Santa Maria Catholic School in Mexico City.”

  “What? I thought Sophia grew up in Arizona.”

  “We met at primaria, became very close friends in secundaria and inseparable in prepratoria,” Selena Perez explained.

  “I am surprised she was allowed to come so far north,” Ramone Perez said quietly, almost underneath his breath.

  Ryder pulled his brows down. This conversation was turning out to be far more interesting that he thought it would be.

  Roger Carlyle helped himself to a roll from the basket in the middle of the table. “And just why would you say that, Ramone?”

  Ramone looked over at Roger. “Because the children are so far away.”

  “Far away?” Ryder asked. “Just what are Sophia’s kids far away from?”

  “Their padre.” Ramone lifted his wine glass to his lips.

  Ryder processed the words being spoken. “Isn’t Parker Edgington the father of her two kids?”

  “Have you seen Parker Edgington?” Eduardo Garcia chimed in.

  “No. Why?”

  “He’s as lily white as they come,” Garcia said.

  “So?”

  “That’s why she came up here. To raise her children in more positive lifestyle,” Camilla piped in and narrowed her eyes at her husband. “There is nothing wrong with trying for a better way of life. Especially for your children.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, my love.” Her husband, Eduardo picked up his wife’s left hand and kissed her knuckles.

  Chapter 16

  Just what in hell was going on? It seemed like everyone but him knew some key information about Sophia Edgington.

  “Yes, but it didn’t last long, did it?” Ramone said as if he just discovered the most profound question at the table and pointedly looked at the other three men. The two women at the table were ignored at that moment.

  Ryder realized he needed to go meet Parker Edgington and ask him a few questions ASAP.

  A hand slid along his nape and he flinche
d, hunching his shoulders. Sophia was back.

  “Where’s my drink, Ryder?”

  He swore under his breath. It totally slipped his mind and he stood up. “I’ll get you one right now.” Uneasiness slid through his body. He had to get up and walk around; get away from the table. Sophia’s forgotten drink was the perfect excuse for a breather.

  “Thank you. Don’t forget it’s a Fuzzy Navel Martini.”

  “Got it.” He strode to the large bar by the front door. Christ, just thinking about a fuzzy navel gave him the creeps. But if that was what the lady wanted . . .

  As he approached the bar, he took in the black marbled bar top and sleek teak glassed cabinets. Nice. Everything in this damn country club was perfect. Of course that shouldn’t be a bad thing. Ryder always did like nice stuff. But all the perfection started to get to him. Maybe it was because Amanda wasn’t here to smart-off to him and have fun with.

  “What can I get you, sir?” A bartender asked as Ryder slid into the barstool.

  “I need a martini please.” Ryder snapped his fingers and held up his right hand. “No. Ah, make that a Fuzzy Navel Martini.”

  “You betcha, sir.”

  Who in the hell would drink anything fuzzy? “I need a beer.” He smiled. “Got a Bud?”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  “Good man.” The angle that Ryder sat on the stool at the bar, gave him the opportunity to enjoy the fading pink and violet Arizona twilight. Did any other state have such a striking nightfall? Could any other state―especially with the Sierra Estrella Mountain range as a backdrop even compare? He was a tad bit prejudiced, being that he was born and raised around this area.

  “Here ya go, sir.” The bartender slid his Budweiser and the Martini down the bar at him.

  “Thanks.” Ryder reached for his wallet. “What do I owe you?”

  The bartender, a young red-haired man with freckles held up his hand. “Ah no, sir. Everything is included with your Harbor Falls Country Club Dinner Dance ticket.”

  Whoa, not bad. “Here you go, then.” Ryder handed him a five-dollar bill.

  “Thank you, sir!” The kid gave him a toothy smile then waited on someone else.

  Feeling good, he sipped his beer and again looked out at the impressive sunset. It couldn’t get much better than this. But he wasn’t on his own hanging out at a really nice place. Reality punched him in the gut. Awe shit, he had to take Sophia back her martini.

  A Fuzzy one at that. He eyed the oversized martini glass with the orange wedge stuck on the side of it. Running his right hand over the top of his head, he looked around. A reluctance tugged at him and he glanced out the main entrance to the Country Club one last time before he had to go back to his table.

  With his left leg on the floor readying to stand, he turned to admire the last shred of sunlight before it disappeared behind the mountains, when a sparkle caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes, he realized it was a silvery strand spread out on the parquet lobby flooring reflecting the sun’s rays. Gulping the rest of the beer, Ryder stood and set the empty glass down on the counter right next to Sophia’s Fuzzy Martini. The whole time his gaze was transfixed to the item on the floor and he walked over and picked it up. He rubbed his thumb over the glittery circles and the back of his neck prickled. It was Amanda’s bracelet or one that looked just like it.

  Amanda.

  Closing his fist around the bracelet, he shoved it into his front pant pocket. Something wasn’t right. Ryder felt it in his bones. He walked out the front door of the country club and put his vehicle ticket in the valet’s hands. Four minutes later, he gunned it down Harbor Falls Country Club Drive and jumped on I-89 southbound for Amanda’s place. Reaching under his car seat, he pulled out his Glock and rubbed his thumb over the black ribbed handle assuredly. He may not even need it, but he liked knowing he had it. This puppy was his best friend in many tight situations; like now. You never knew when you’d need the reliable back-up of seventeen continuous rounds. His Glock’s accuracy was uncanny and it never jammed.

  The fact that his black handled baby took standard ammo was another plus, making it more desirable than a . . . a . . . woman?

  Well almost, he chuckled to himself before Amanda’s pretty face and soft blond hair floated through his brain.

  Nah. A woman could do a few more things than his Glock he snickered to himself. Sticking the pistol in the back of his suit pants waistband, he grinned. Who knows if they added some lips and a mouth . . . Nah, a woman was still better.

  Her head banged and her vision was still blurry, but Amanda sat calmly in Jeffrey’s car with her hands clasped in her lap. They were almost home. Thank the Lord! All she wanted was to go to sleep and not remember anything about this night, except that it was a bad dream. Jeffrey’s BMW headlight’s swiped across the front of her house as he pulled into the driveway. Home, at last. Relief washed over her.

  “You don’t need to walk me up,” she slurred as she yanked at the door handle. Her hand slipped on the lever and she clenched her teeth together to concentrate as she lifted her hand again to open the door.

  “No, no, no.” He jumped out of the car and opened her door in a flash. Tugging on her hand, he pulled her out of the seat and guided her up to the front entrance.

  She shook her head and stared bleakly at her front door. How am I going to find my keys to open the door?

  “Jeffrey, I made need some help . . .” She lowered her head and fumbled for her keys in her bag.

  Jeffrey reached his hand out and turned the doorknob. “Ah ha! Mr. Angry Army Man must have forgotten to lock the damn door!” After he pushed open the door, he leaned in to turn on the foyer light. “This is just too rich!”

  “Ooooookayyyyyy.” Amanda looked around. Ryder forgot to lock her door? She stumbled to the stairs because she was ready to lie down, but then stopped short and turned around almost falling over in the process. “Thank you for tonight, Jeffrey.” Hoping he got the message, she lightly pushed him back out the front door and reached out to pull the door closed.

  Jeffrey sidestepped the wood door closing in on him. “Wait right there, Amanda.” He gave her a toothy grin. “How about just one glass of wine or sherry before I head out?”

  Amanda groaned. “Jeffrey, I puked earlier.” Her head started to pound again. Irritability crashed over her and she mumbled, “Do you want to chance me getting sick again?” She crossed her arms and pinched her mouth together, trying valiantly to not lean too far over on her left side. She just wanted him to go.

  “Amanda.” He stepped so close to her she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Don’t you want to see if this chemistry between us. . .” Jeffrey rubbed his index finger up and down her jaw. “. . . Extends to the bedroom?”

  Squinting her eyes at the three wavering outlines of the man in front of her, she inhaled and mumbled, “Jeffrey my head feels like a garbage disposal and my mouth tastes like one.” She clutched her stomach as bile pushed its way up her throat.

  His face fuzzily came into view. There was that toothy smile again. Kinda like a shark. But not a Great White, he seemed more like a lemon shark or another bottom feeder.

  Tired now, she rushed her words. “I am so sorry, Jeffrey, I―”

  Thud.

  She stopped instantly and listened.

  Thud.

  Tilting her chin, she was positive the sound came from upstairs. Like something dropped on the ceiling above her.

  She widened her eyes and whispered, “Jeffrey? I think someone’s upstairs.” Why did her tongue feel so thick? “I have to call the police.” She reached for her purse.

  “Amanda,” he whispered. “I think you’re imaging things, love.” Grabbing her by the waist, he planted wet kisses along her neck.

  “No! What are you doing?” she slurred harshly. Amanda brought
both of her hands up to his chest and attempted to push him away. “Stop it.”

  “Oh come on, Amanda.” He grabbed her roughly by her biceps and pushed her backward until they were in the living room.

  Even though she was still foggy, she knew something was terribly wrong. Wiggling, she tried to get out of his grasp, but still kept quiet because of the intruder up on the second floor. His eyes narrowed as he pinned her down. Huge danger signs roiled in her gut. Jeffrey’s whole demeanor had changed. Now, he even looked scary.

  All three of him.

  Squeezing her arms, he forced her down on the couch.

  “Do―” He said in a low voice. “You―” Huffing a few times as he held her arms down, he said darkly. “Know where the letter is?”

  She twisted on the couch and finally out of his grasp.

  He gritted his teeth together. “The letter. Where is it?” His arms shot out again and he threw her back on the couch.

  “What?” She flopped back down. The three visions of Jeffrey morphed into only two now and she focused on the left one.

  “Your husband . . . Did he mail anything to you before he died?”

  “I don’t understand. Why are you asking me about this?” she asked in a garbled voice. The intruder’s face that broke into her house a few nights earlier flew through her mind. Did he come back? She braced her hands on either side of her legs to hoist herself back up so she could stand.

  “Oh no you don’t.” He nuzzled his face into her chest.

  “Would you stop it, Jeffrey!” she slurred, attempting to push up off the sofa. What was wrong with him? He acted like a different person.