Christina Freeburn - Faith Hunter 03 - Embellished to Death

by Christina Freeburn

  Unfortunately, my well-thought out plan was short lived as most of the cars weren’t parked in clusters of three, and people continued driving into the lot. I did my best to act like taking photos in a parking lot was normal.

  Scrambling around, I snapped some more pictures of the license. My eye was drawn to an out of state plate. Florida. Long way to come for a crop. I knelt down and focused my cell on the plate.

  A throat cleared behind me. “What are you doing?”

  I glanced up. A woman wearing oversized sunglasses, jeans, and a purple t-shirt stared at me. Her hair was hidden underneath a baseball cap though a few blonde wisps dangled at her cheek.

  “Looking for my room key. I dropped it out here.” I pretended to pick something up. “Here it is.”

  “Why do you need your cell phone?”

  “I was updating my Facebook status. I know I should turn my phone off for the weekend but I can’t manage without it.” I hung my head down and continued rambling. “I told myself it’s only so I can accept credit cards and here I am hiding out in the parking lot so my boyfriend doesn’t know I can’t handle staying away from social media longer than fifteen minutes.”

  “I recommend you don’t hide out here, you can get hit by a car that way. People should pay attention to their surroundings at all times.” The woman walked over to a large sedan a few cars over.

  I shoved my phone back into my pocket then jogged over to our trailer. It had been awhile since Steve went up the room and I wanted to check on him. After making sure Morgan wasn’t around, I collected my purse and Steve’s bag from the cab of the truck.

  I hustled my way into the building and headed for the elevator. My shoulder ached from the weight of the straps tugging on it. Steve’s bag was a lot heavier than it looked. Or maybe it was all the electronic gadgets I “needed” to bring to the scrapbooking retreat that were in my tote: my reading Kindle, my watch-movies-and—get-on-the-Internet Kindle, a paperback book in case I grew tired of looking at a screen, my iPod as I didn’t want to drain the battery of my cell phone listening to music, and of course all the chargers.

  The only item I’d probably take out of the bag this weekend was my phone, which I now carried in my back pocket, but I hadn’t wanted to leave one of my devices behind and then find I had time to use it. I pressed the elevator button and the door immediately opened. Someone pushed their way past me, knocking me forward.

  I tumbled into the elevator, the extra weight on my shoulders bringing me to my knees. I shot my hands out to keep my face from meeting the floor. “Hey!”

  “What were you doing?” Morgan grabbed my arm and yanked me up.

  Get out! The voice of reason screamed in my head. Morgan was a volatile situation in the making, and I had no idea why.

  He hit the door closed button, and placed his hand over the keypad. The other hand yanked at my arm.

  “Hold up.” I slipped the straps of the bags off and pulled away from him. “What is with all the pushing and shoving all the time? Just because you work for the government doesn’t mean you get to be grabby.” Or say you do.

  “Were you out there planting evidence? Trying to find the next victim to blame your crime on?”

  “The car that killed her almost ran me over. There’s no way I drove a car that almost hit me.”

  “Victimhood. The story of your life.” Morgan pressed his hand into my shoulder, pinning me to the back of the elevator. His other hand stayed over the door close button. “Make this easy on yourself and fess up.”

  I shoved Morgan’s hand away from me. “I have nothing to fess up to.”

  He reached out and twisted a strand of my hair around his finger. “You think I’m the only one who has connected your past to your present crime solving activities. I’ve been keeping track of you for a while now. And I’m not the only one.”

  Tears clogged my throat. I blinked a few times, swallowing hard to get rid of the building pressure. Who else knew, and planned on using it against me? No. Stay focused. People like Morgan thrived on fear. The only way out of this situation was being strong. There was no reason to trust anything the man said.

  My silence encouraged Morgan. He grinned at me, relaxing his hold. His hand moved from my shoulder down my arm. “Some physical affection might change my mind also.”

  I averted my eyes, not wanting to look into his lustful gaze.

  “Good girl. Behave yourself and you’ll stay safe.”

  He was lying. I knew it. If I didn’t show some fire and spunk, he’d steamroll right over me. My biggest fear was Steve and my grandmothers finding out about my past. About Adam. It was time I snatched the power away from those who wanted to hurt me.

  I slapped Morgan’s hand off of me. “There’s nothing to connect between me and any murders. If you want to tell Steve and my friends about my past, go right ahead. Maybe I’ll tell them myself.”

  “Maybe I should make sure you are who you say you are.” Morgan shoved his hand into my purse and yanked out my wallet. “It’s not like you haven’t rewritten your past already.”

  “Who else would I be?” I tried keeping my gaze from the free keypad. Would I have time to get the door open and get out?

  Morgan looked at my driver’s license then dropped my wallet back into my purse. “An identity thief.”

  He was also looking for the identity thief, and thought he’d find her by threatening me. Play it cool. Get out and find Bob. “So either I’m this murderer, or I’m someone else. You can’t have it both ways. Either I’m Faith Hunter or I’m not.”

  “Faith Hunter can be murderer and a liar at the same time. She’s done it before.” Morgan sneered.

  Stress and fear pushed in on me, but instead of tears I laughed. It started out as a small bubble of merriment and then grew into a fit of giggles.

  Morgan slammed his hand onto the button for the fourth floor, the highest number for the building. It would be vacant. The elevator chugged up.

  The humor rolling through me evaporated as quickly as it arrived.

  “Think I’m playing a game all you want. It’ll make it easier for me.”

  The elevator jerked to a halt. The sudden stop threw me off balance. I tumbled into Morgan’s arms.

  He cupped the back of my neck and forced me to look into his eyes. “I know you’re involved in this up to your pretty neck. Maybe that hit-and-run was an accident for the woman lying in the hospital, but was meant to be a deliberate action against you. Even the score for all of the lives you’ve taken.”

  I struggled against his grip.

  He roamed his hand from my neck, down my back and then withdrew his touch when the doors slid open. “I think you should tell Steve your secret. Maybe the killer will be satisfied with Steve sacrificing himself for you. Wouldn’t be the first time you let a man take the fall.” Morgan stepped out in the hallway.

  “You’re a creep.” I slammed my palm onto the elevator keypad. The doors closed. The accident played through my mind.

  If it wasn’t for Steve, I’d be the one injured in the hospital right now—or dead. My legs trembled. I leaned against the back of the elevator. Somehow, I remained standing as the elevator made its way down one floor.

  I drew in deep breaths and started designing layouts in my head. I needed something to focus on besides Morgan’s words. What kind of Federal agent threatened a woman? If he suspected someone was after me, why wasn’t he trying to protect me rather than bullying me into a confession?

  Because he’s a liar. The thought drifted into my head. What proof did I have that Morgan was who he said he was?

  The elevator jolted to a stop. My heart hammered. I grabbed the strap of my purse and Steve’s bag and hoisted them onto my shoulder. If Steve noticed something off in my behavior and expression, I’d blame carrying the weight of these bags f
rom the truck as my troubles rather than the possibility of being on a hit list.

  Drawing in deep breaths, I settled my emotions and slowly opened the door. Steve was sleeping on the bed closest to the window. I deposited the bags in the open closet area and tiptoed my way to Steve. He was lying on his side, facing the window. His body moved with each soft breath.

  I didn’t want to wake him, but also knew I needed to make sure he’d respond to an attempt at being woken up. Not wanting to startle him, I made slow and steady movements. I placed one knee on the mattress, braced my hands on the bed, and leaned over to peer into his face.

  He opened one eye and smiled at me. “Hi. How’s the setup going?”

  “Good.” I sat on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Restless.” He flipped over, facing me. He frowned, running a finger under my chin. “What’s wrong?”

  “Worried about you.” I smiled, hoping it stopped any further questions. Now wasn’t the time to dump anything on Steve.

  “That’s all?” Steve sat up. “It looks like there’s a little more to it than me.”

  “How come I can’t be worried about you?”

  “Because you can see that I’m fine.” He wrapped his arms around me.

  I leaned into the embrace, drawing every ounce of comfort and love out of Steve.

  I needed to feel protected right now. I needed to know how much Steve loved me just in case the worst possible thing happened—he dumped me once he learned about my past and proved my insecurities right.

  “It’s just been a rough day.” Tears pricked my lashes. “I envisioned a nice weekend. So far you’ve been injured, some woman got killed, and there’s one fiasco after another in the crop room. And you were injured.”

  “You said that already.”

  “It needed a repeat.” I shuddered. “My heart broke when you didn’t move.”

  Steve tipped up my chin. “I’m fine. You’ll do fine. I know you’ve been putting a lot of pressure on yourself about this weekend. This will not break the confidence your grandmothers have in you. They know these retreats can be hit or miss when it comes to sales. And I’ll repeat that I’m fine.”

  Tell him the truth. My heartbeat picked up. I swallowed and stared into the eyes of the man I loved. Could I be brave enough to tell him about Adam?

  “You don’t believe me?” Wickedness lit his deep brown eyes. “Maybe a little show and tell?”

  “I am still kind of doubtful that you’re okay.” I inched closer.

  “Are you?” Steve stared at my mouth, gaze smoldering.

  “I think some show is required.” I placed my hands on his shoulders.

  “Absolutely.” His arms wound around me, drawing me against his chest.

  I linked my arms around his neck, tilted my head back, and looked into his handsome face. “Not sure I’m convinced yet.”

  Steve lowered his lips to mine. The kiss started light and teasing, moved to searching, then shifted into wanton and heated. The intensity shook me to my core. I clung to Steve’s shoulders. I shifted, increasing the pressure of the kiss. Steve pulled me tighter against him. His hands roamed from the small of my back, up my spine, and back down again. I drew as close to his body as humanly possible.

  Heat worked itself through me. I didn’t care about being proper. I didn’t care what anyone would think. All I knew was I didn’t want the kiss, or moment, to end.

  One of Steve’s hands wound through my hair, the other roamed down to my hip and toward my backside. I moved my hand from his shoulder to his waist where it yearned to snake up his stomach to his chest. My whole body vibrated.

  Steve groaned and moved his mouth from mine. “Faith…”

  I placed my hand on his cheek, trying to redirect his mouth back to mine. “Don’t stop.”

  “Someone…”

  I wanted the man to shut up and continue kissing me. “Please.” I planted small kisses on his cheek and near the corner of his mouth.

  “Your behind is ringing.”

  The vibration wasn’t only from my reaction to our kiss. Someone was calling me. Ugh!

  I leaned back and drew in deep breaths. Steve clambered from the bed, choosing to sit on the chair near the window. I retrieved my phone.

  “Hello.”

  “It’s Lydia. Your friend gave me your phone number. Have you seen Marsha? She’s not in her room or in the crop area. I’m worried about her.”

  “No. I’m sure she’s okay.”

  “I could use your help in finding her. You’re the only one I can ask.”

  “There are not too many places she could’ve gone. Have you checked the fitness room or pool?”

  “Marsha does find swimming relaxing. I’ll try there. Can you try the bar?”

  I glanced over at Steve. He motioned for me to go ahead. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay put and resume show and tell. “You can check the bar first. You have to pass right by it to get to the pool.”

  “It’s just…” Lydia’s voice dipped lower. “I can’t go and see if she’s in there. If I find her in the bar, I will lose it. I can’t do that when so many of the croppers are already here,” Lydia said. “It’s not going to look good if we are both flaky and over-emotional. The manager is annoyed enough as it is.”

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes and sent a pout over at Steve. “I’ll go check the bar.”

  “Thanks.” The line went silent.

  Sighing, I swung my legs over and stood. “Sorry.”

  Steve smiled. “There’s always later.”

  “One kiss for the road?” I held up an index finger.

  Steve walked over to me, hooking his hands behind my back. “I think that might be risky. I doubt we can behave ourselves.”

  Right now, I didn’t want to behave myself, but I would. I had a job to do. “Take it easy. Do you want me to order room service for you, or bring you up something later?”

  “I can manage.” Steve placed a delicate pat on my derrière and sent me out the door.

  He was fine. I was fine. Everything would be fine. I continued the mantra as I walked down the hallway toward the elevators. The police or Bob would discover the identity of the woman. Someone knew who she was and would report her missing. The police would probably run the license plates of the cars in the area. They wanted to know who she was just as much as me.

  Voices carried from down the hallway.

  “Stay away,” a woman said.

  A low murmur in a deeper voice responded.

  “You’re not wanted here.” A blonde woman wearing jeans and purple t-shirt walked out of the small alcove housing the vending machine. It was the woman who talked to me in the parking lot.

  An arm shot out, yanking her back. I ran forward.

  “Back off.” The woman stalked back out, lips curled in an angry pout. Dark sunglasses hid the rest of her features. “There’s nothing you can do to me. But plenty I can do to you.”

  Morgan stepped out of the alcove, once again grabbing for her arm. “Don’t count on it.”

  She yanked away and pivoted.

  I skidded to a halt, spun toward the nearest door and pretended to put my key into the slot. With my other hand, I drew my hair over my face. I couldn’t let him spot me. My heart pounded. I fought the urge to get another look at the woman. I didn’t want Morgan knowing I saw the “meeting.” I knew she was blonde, tall, and lithe. Not much to go on. Was she the identity thief? Morgan followed me because he thought I was a criminal, it made sense he’d harass her for the same reason.

  Wait! She had talked to me outside. Was that conversation what set Morgan off? It was after right after the small talk that Morgan cornered me in the elevator. It made sense.

  He headed for the stairs and the woman slipped into the eleva
tor. After a few minutes, I went to the elevator and hit the down button. I needed to focus on one problem at a time. First Morgan, and then the mystery woman.

  What case had brought Morgan to the resort this weekend?

  The identity thief. What were the chances there were two criminals running around the National Scrapbook day crop?

  The second elevator arrived and I got inside. I hit the ground floor. The elevator chugged down. I leaned against the back and pondered the situation. Why was I on this guy’s radar? Did Adam contact him? My body shook. It was the only thing that made sense. Adam somehow found out about the murders I solved and it was his new way to blame me for his crimes.

  I fingered my cell phone. I was willing to take chances with my life, but not my friends and family. If this agent had it in for me, all of those who cared about me were also in danger. The doors opened and I stepped out. I refused to hide. One, he’d catch up with me anyway. Two, I’d be giving control of my life back to Adam. Never again. I had made that promise to myself years ago and it was one I intended to keep.

  I melded myself into the shadows at the juncture of the hallway separating the hotel from the convention center and typed a quick text message, keeping details to the minimum. There was one person who knew about my past and had access to databases and people who would know Morgan’s MO—Detective Ted Roget.

  Suddenly I felt nervous.

  It wasn’t that I was worried about Ted knowing what was going on, I was concerned how Steve would feel knowing I went to Ted for help instead of him. While Ted and Steve weren’t enemies, they did consider the other competition. Ted wasn’t subtle about his interest in me, even after I let it be known that Steve was the guy for me.

  Since I sent Ted those pictures of the license plates, he’d know something was up. Might as well give him the rest of the story. I hit send. The text was now making its way to Ted’s private cell phone. I hoped he wasn’t working. If he was, who knew when he’d read it. I didn’t want to send it to his work phone as I wasn’t sure who else had access. I also didn’t want anyone to overhear, so texting was the safest form of communication.