by Tracy Ellen
“I love Christmastime, and this is no pout. It’s a distasteful moue.” I pushed my hair back behind my shoulders. “It means I’m questioning what your employee is so busy doing that you’re constantly trying to make me into your secretary lately.”
Luke flashed me a grin as he pushed the sunglasses up that boldly arrogant nose. “Anabel, I’m beginning to question if you’re satisfied being my girlfriend. You sound awfully jealous of my employee.”
“Ha!” I didn’t have on my jacket, but followed him outside into the nippy, bright morning. “And here I am beginning to question if there’s a difference between being your girlfriend and being your employee.”
Even with the sunglasses on, I could tell his eyes had narrowed by his silky, challenging tone. “If you can’t tell the difference, it must be true I’m slacking off as a boyfriend.”
“You can always try harder when you get back.” I grinned cheerfully at the shaking head of the man I loved more than Bel’s Bookstore. “Hey, haven’t you ever heard the proof is in the pudding?”
Luke’s crack of laughter was carried away on a gust of strong wind while he walked to his truck.
Some people get gooey and swear their eternal love when departing, but nothing made me happier than sending my beloved on his way with a big smile on that deliciously cruel mouth.
So I called out, “Listen, Buster. If I find out BJ’s title is in your company’s name, I’m going to start calling myself your employee with benefits, instead of your girlfriend!”
Still shaking his head, Luke grinned and waved as I blew kisses until our truck was out of sight.
Later that night, after another busy day in the bookstore, I hosted a dinner party for my staff. Thank God I had splurged to have the meal catered. Each Christmas, I give tins of the homemade decorated sugar cookies to all my employees, along with a gift card. When passing out their loot this year, I only hoped the staff didn’t look too closely at the decorating after the heated arguing at Friday night’s cookie party.
On Christmas Eve, Bel’s closed at 6:00 PM. Anna, Reg, Jazy, and Crookie came over for a relaxing night of movies and popcorn. They were all sleeping over, since our family Christmas began in the morning. Again I was thwarted from talking with Jazy about the horse rescue operation when Kenna and Mustang arrived at the last minute to hang with us, too.
Tre J was off with her family. She and Crookie had decided their relationship was too new and it was too soon following his wife’s death to bring him home with her. Crookie couldn’t hide his nervous relief. He was in particularly good spirits to have escaped the dreaded “meet the parents.”
Stella had joined Eric George’s family this year while Mac and Diego spent the evening with his family in Faribault.
Chief Jack would have normally come over, but he had a big Canadian fishing trip planned that took him out of town for the holidays. He’d already taken off for up north, but not before stopping by the bookstore to pick up his cookie tin and wish me a Merry Christmas. At least that was the excuse Jack used. It was soon clear he wanted to lecture me about staying out of trouble while he was gone. When I interrupted his pacing tirade to innocently mention I was setting him up on a blind date with Luke’s neighbor lady, Jack couldn’t get out of the bookstore fast enough.
Jack’s fishing trip was preventing him from joining us in Las Vegas, a fact I was rather relieved over when I heard the news. I loved the big guy, but I didn’t need Jack Banner breathing down my neck and warning Luke he was jumping through my hoops all the way to Vegas and back. Jack had already done plenty of that when he found out about my birthdays presents from Luke.
Throughout the busy week, I tried to keep a close eye on Stella. There didn’t seem to be extra time for personal conversations, as we were always surrounded by people at the bookstore or at the various parties. Besides, anytime in the past when Stella had a serious problem, she’d always found time to come to me, usually sooner rather than later. In spite of my nagging anxiety, I was left with the conclusion she was simply tired and nothing was wrong. I had to laugh and wonder when I had turned into such a handwringing mother. I should be happy Stella wasn’t complaining to me night and day, I got enough of that from Anna.
Christmas day was fun and hectic. The family all gathered for presents in the late morning followed by brunch. It was our first Christmas without NanaBel, but we all took turns talking to her on the phone. With Chief Jack gone too, the festive atmosphere almost felt like we were getting to have a wild party without the grownups around, except for Mac and Diego, of course.
Friends came and went all day. I ate too much, laughed too much, and missed Luke way too much.
Even though I was occupied every moment since he’d left, Luke was never far from my thoughts as I celebrated Christmas with my family. I must have been on his mind as well because we texted frequently throughout the days apart and talked on the phone each night before going to sleep. It wasn’t the same as being together. My bed was vast and lonely. However, it sure beat not hearing from him for a week or two.
On Wednesday, Luke surprised me in my office at Bel’s hours before I expected him. Some people subconsciously physically react when they are being covertly watched. Their hearts beat faster, they get tingles up their spine, or the little hairs rise on their arms. When it’s Luke watching me, my nipples stand at attention long before my conscious brain catches up that he’s in the vicinity.
After kissing him like crazy on my green velvet office sofa, I insisted any other reunions had to wait because I had a surprise for him. Taking a late lunch break from the bookstore, we drove out to the farm. I was so excited I could hardly stand the time it took to drive there. I made Luke guess what his Christmas presents could be all the way there. He got a little worried when I pretended to be flustered when he guessed a herd of randy Billy goats.
Inside the barn, my brother and Hood had just completed the installation of the enormous mandelier above the seating area in the bar. They had griped it was too girly a touch, but they still followed my instructions to festoon the huge metal piece with garlands of colorful Christmas lights, bows, and ribbons. But I know my tough war-god secretly loves presents and all the wrappings, and was tickled to receive them. He could admire the sculpture as a cool piece of art after I had fun presenting it with all the bells and whistles.
I blindfolded Luke with a scarf and led him into the barn by his hand. When I whipped the scarf off, Luke stared up at the gaudily decorated mandelier for a long moment before he met my anxiously awaiting eyes. He didn’t attempt to hide the softening in his gaze as his smile grew.
Luke loved my surprise present.
After introductions were made, the men brought over two ladders and took off the Christmas lights and ribbons. With Hood on one ladder, Luke kicked Reg off the other to climb up. He inspected the light sculpture and all the individual metal figures, complete with a commentary from the artist. That done, the men bellied up to the bar and talked more about the mandelier, welding, the barn, Luke’s plans for the farm, Hood’s business, Reg’s business, and of course, how those damn Democrats were ruining the country’s businesses.
At Luke’s subtle urging, Hood also shared the story of how we became childhood friends. He told Luke how I dogged his ass home from school for weeks and bugged him relentlessly until he agreed to teach me how to pick pockets.
Luke grinned at the story, but I received one of those unreadable, appraising glances. I couldn’t help but wonder if my boyfriend was once again thanking God I didn’t want to procreate.
Finally, Reg and Hood left and I was able to give Luke his second gift.
It was a tank top emblazoned with, “I flexed and the sleeves fell off.”
I insisted he try it on. And then, I had to insist he allow me to worship at the Altar of Biceps. Luke insisted I get naked. He chased me around the barn while I girlishly screamed. I tried real hard to escape him, as I took my clothes off, piece by piece, and threw them in his face.
I think Luke loved that tank top, too.
Chapter XI
“Viva Las Vegas” by Elvis Presley
Sunday, 12/30
1:30 PM
In all my travels, I have never been to Las Vegas. Maybe I was subconsciously waiting for Anna’s big day, since Vegas was her dream wedding destination all of our lives. Luke has been there more times than he can count.
The bookstore parking lot was the meeting ground for both wedding parties to converge. Two stretch limousines were waiting, provided by James Byrd, his generous wedding present to the bridal couples.
Mac and Diego took charge to get everyone sorted. Mac had a carefully contrived seating list. The main purpose was keeping the bridal parties together within each group of friends, and separating Crazy and Pam. Since that also meant separating me from the ex-cousin, I was all for being careful.
In order for everybody to be assigned first class seats, the baron had arranged two flights for the twenty five wedding attendees from Minnesota. The news kept getting better when I heard the two planes were with separate airlines departing from two different airports.
The thirteen people traveling in Stella and Eric George’s wedding party piled into one limo to be whisked to the Charles Lindberg International Airport.
Luke and I were in the second limo with the remaining ten. Our flight was on Sun Country departing from Hubert H. Humphrey Airport.
I was the last one out to the parking lot, in time to wave off the first limo. I grinned extra wide at Crazy’s sullen glare from under the floppy brim of a large white hat decorated with trailing orange ribbons and several straw sunflowers. This was the first time I’d seen the ex-cousin since Hood had delivered the goods.
As Jazy was ducking into our ride, she glanced over to where I was looking. She did a double take, saying over her shoulder to me as she entered, “My God! Does Candy think we’re going to a polo match with the fucking Queen of England?”
Pam leaned forward and said sotto voice to Jazy, “Oh good. So it’s not just me who thinks Candy’s dressed up like an Alice in Wonderland who came out of the wrong end of the looking glass?”
“More like the wrong end of the rabbit’s hole,” Jazy smirked, as the two grinned and bumped fists.
Smiling, I glanced up at Luke waiting patiently beside me to get into the limo.
Luke eyes gleamed. “Women.”
“Scary, aren’t we?” I agreed happily.
We were the last two in the parking lot. I was wearing skinny jeans, black heels, a pink blouse, and a raspberry wool silk blazer that doubled as my coat. I touched my ear. I also wore the new diamond studs that were Luke’s Christmas present. Princess cut and set in platinum, the carat size would make a professional basketball player proud. I made Luke promise that he would pay the plastic surgeon’s bill if they were ripped off my ears in Las Vegas.
“I hope you’re not too disappointed you won’t be able to do any work with your employee on our flight.” As I bent to climb in the limo after that little sally, Luke smacked me lightly on the ass.
Startled, I whirled around to give him an offended look.
Luke grinned as he guided me into the limo with hands on my hips. “You know my disappointments and my pleasures rest entirely in your little hands.”
I giggled. “Are you working me, Drake?”
“Only if it’s working.” He arched a brow. “Is it, Axelrod?”
A mysterious smile was my reply, as I took a sip of the champagne Reg’s friend, Henry passed to me before I was even fully seated.
Nothing could put a dent in my good spirits. I was embarking on my first mini vacay with my boyfriend. Love was in the air, the champagne was flowing, and Crazy was out of my sight.
But not out of mind. I won’t lie, my present fantastic mood was due also in part to the fun I was having sizing up different ways to torture the ex-cousin. The little something Hood said was my birthday present in the manila envelope proved to be a veritable gold mine of disgusting treasure.
Luke may believe I had little patience because of my enthusiastic willingness to jump his bones--anytime and anywhere--and sadly, he was correct on that issue. But where the rest of my life was concerned, I had no problem taking my time before jumping. Jiang Qing, better known as the “white boned demon” and one of the most evil women in modern history, had nothing on me when it came to calculated revenge.
I trusted Hood’s judgment that he’d destroyed all of Candy’s proof. As a control enthusiast, things still weren’t necessarily as they seemed until I confirmed them with my own baby blues.
Five out of the seventeen enlarged photographs Hood had delivered in the manila envelope were of the entrance lane to the farm where we had rescued the abused horse.
Those five pictures were time and date stamped, verifying they were sequential snapshots. A mailbox was positioned on the far right of each photo. Situated as the mailbox was, under the bright circle of a yard light, the pictures clearly showed the farmer’s name “Gus Johnson” on the side.
Four pictures were photographs of the girls’s truck and horse trailer being driven onto the property, Tre J at the wheel. You could see another person in the front passenger seat, and maybe even agree it was Jazy, if you knew what you were looking at. Since I was sitting slumped down on the far side behind Jazy, I wasn’t visible in the back seat.
The fifth shot was stamped ten minutes later. It was the big farmer at the wheel of his truck, bearded chin jutting out angrily and looking as mean as I remembered.
When I called Hood with a couple more questions about Crazy’s camera, he was able to tell me the model and the interesting news the camera was still mounted to a tripod when he found it in Candy’s bedroom closet.
I’d looked up the camera’s capabilities online. A few days ago, I’d taken BJ for a quick morning spin past the horse farm to refresh my memory of the place in the daylight.
Once I determined the farm appeared deserted with no fresh tracks disturbing the deep snow in the long driveway, I parked on the road.
I compared the angle of the photographs to the topography. The yards on either side of the entrance lane were wide open, level areas. The lack of cover caused Candy the same problems for taking photographs, as I had run into when trying to escape the farm undetected while being chased by the farmer with his shotgun.
There were a couple of spindly trees, but nowhere Candy could hide and not take the chance of being spotted. She had to assume Jazy and Tre knew the lay of the land. Also, Candy’s time to concoct her scheme had been limited. She’d overheard Jazy and Tre J talking about their rescue plan while at the airport saying goodbye to NanaBel. The ex-cousin only had a couple of hours to locate the farm, get the farmer’s phone number, and discover his location at the bar in Kenyon. All in all, I was impressed with her due diligence.
It hadn’t taken any special detection to find the exact spot from where the photos were shot. The snow across the yard was pristine except for faint, but still identifiable boot track impressions. The tracks started from the side of the road where I stood. The boot tracks then went down through the shallow ditch and continued to a point fifteen feet into the yard. They ended near a spindly tree. Luckily for me, it was extremely windy out in the open here, so the tracks had not filled in completely with the last snowfall.
I followed the boot tracks to the tree. Using my new emergency fold up shovel, I’d scooped off the top layer of powdery snow and set it aside. Once I dug down and removed the snow to the level of muddy grass, it didn’t take me long to find three holes in a triangular formation where the tripod legs had been dug into the frozen earth for stabilization. I examined the ground area I’d uncovered and received an added bonus. It was a footprint of a small sized boot cast in the mud, complete with an imprint of a wavy pattern of lines from the boot’s treads. I tilted my head in thought, and then carefully cut around the frozen boot print until I could scoop it out intact.
Packing the divot it left with scraped u
p dirt chunks; I also plugged the tripod holes to remove the evidence of their existence. Sweet as it would be to have the police somehow tie the un-cousin to the farm when the farmer’s body was eventually discovered, I couldn’t chance it. To protect Jazy and Tre J, the un-cousin got protected, too. I distributed the piled snow back over the area.
Using a trick learned from my Dark Prince when we had exited his farm down a secret road exit, I walked backwards while using the smooth edge of a wooden broom I’d brought with me from Bel’s. It did a good job to smooth out all the tracks. Stepping onto the road, I was satisfied the tracked area now appeared pristine and undisturbed as the rest of the yard.
I drove away without seeing another person or vehicle until I hit a major road. Thinking over the verification of the tripod camera’s location, I was now pretty positive Candy wasn’t in the vicinity when I was at the farm.
My working hypothesis was Candy set a timer on her camera to start photographing that particular entrance spot around the time Jazy and Tre said they’d be arriving at the farm. Her camera card was capable of storing hundreds of pictures. If the battery was fully charged, she could expect to get some evidence within that certain time span.
It also helped explain why Crazy manipulated the drunken farmer to go home. For the purpose of blackmail, she’d have more physical proof when the camera recorded the farmer arriving at the crime scene within minutes after Jazy and Tre’s truck’s arrival. For the purpose of spiteful malice, it guaranteed the enraged farmer would raise hell in the event her camera didn’t do the trick, or even if it did.