“No, he had an early tee time. If you’d called, we could have made sure he skipped his golf game.”
They walked through a well-appointed hall filled with traditional furniture that matched the style of home. The walls had several large photographs of both AJ and Amelia in their earlier years. No Norman Rockwell family photographs. At least not in the hall.
AJ helped Sasha with her coat once they were in the family room.
“We were planning on staying in town for a couple of days. Thought I’d take you and Dad out for dinner or something.”
Marjorie turned to see Sasha’s coat in AJ’s arms. “Let me help you with that.”
AJ waved her off. “I got it, point out the closet.”
“It’s in the hall.” She motioned back to where they’d just walked through. “I hope you’ll stay here. We have room.”
AJ walked away with the coats.
Sasha jumped in, all smiles. “We booked a hotel. I told AJ it was rude to show up unannounced, but he thought a surprise was a good idea.”
AJ’s mother had a genuinely kind smile. There was a strong family resemblance between Amelia and her mother. Similar height, same eyes . . . full-figured curves.
“Hopefully you can teach him a few manners that I somehow failed to,” Marjorie said with a bashful grin.
“Oh, he’s incredibly polite. You didn’t fail, trust me.” Sasha sat on the edge of the sofa, hands in her lap.
She seemed to like that.
AJ walked back into the room. “My ears were ringing.”
Sasha patted the space beside her. “That’s because we were talking about you.”
“What’s this about a hotel? We have plenty of room.”
She jumped in before AJ could contradict her statement. “I told your mother that you suggested it but that I thought it was rude to show up expecting a bed.”
Marjorie scowled. “It’s never rude for my son to stay with us. But I appreciate your thought.”
“Maybe next time.” Sasha leaned her head on AJ’s shoulder. “I hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”
“Nothing that can’t be moved to next week. I can’t believe you’re here. I’d call Alex, but he doesn’t have his cell phone on while he’s on the golf course.”
AJ leaned back on the couch, pulled Sasha with him. “It’s okay. We don’t have to run off.”
“Have you had breakfast?”
Sasha nodded. “We ate.”
“But I could use some coffee,” AJ said.
She nudged his ribs with her elbow. “Honey, that’s rude.”
He smiled down at her. “It’s my mom, it’s not rude.”
Marjorie turned to leave. “Not rude at all. I’ll start a pot.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Claire was working on five hours of sleep. She’d stayed up while Cooper downloaded the last of Sasha’s files. They had a full day planned, but it was starting with breakfast with Lilly. The girl was too stinkin’ cute, even when she squeezed her eyes while dropping a stink bomb.
“Are you going to have more kids?” Claire asked Trina while she spooned another mouthful of mush into Lilly’s face.
“I’d be pregnant right now if Wade had his way. I just lost the baby weight and want to give Lilly more time with just the two of us.” Trina sat across the table, drinking coffee and watching.
“I want a big family.” The conclusion had come to her the moment she fell in love with Lilly. “Lots of kids who all have each other to go to when things are hard.”
Trina considered her over the brim of her cup. “I hope it happens for you. Just try and remember that sometimes family are the people you invite into your life, not just those born to you.”
“You mean like you and Sasha?”
She nodded. “I’m blessed with people like Sasha. Several others that I know I can count on, day or night.”
Claire spooned another scoop into Lilly’s greedy mouth. She made open and closed lip motions and giggled around the food. “Growing up in a boarding school doesn’t give you a lot of outside friendships.”
“Weren’t you close to anyone there?”
“Yeah. One of my roommates. But it isn’t like I can reach out to her from here, even if I wasn’t hiding.” She’d thought about Jax more than once since leaving Richter. All she left was a note saying she’d contact her after graduation. Jax wasn’t the kind of student Creepazoid recruited. Claire took comfort in that.
“You have a whole new set of friends now. You’ve spiked the protective bone in Neil, and I know AJ and Sasha aren’t going to let you down.”
Claire wiped slobber off of Lilly’s face. “What about you, Lilly . . . are you gonna be around, too?”
“She’s going to need an older cousin to teach her all about boys.”
“I’m going to have to date before I can do that.” Dating consisted of making out in dark corners of Richter with the intention of getting naked. For Claire, there weren’t any naked worthy guys her age. The college age boys weren’t interested in her.
“I didn’t even consider that.”
Claire hadn’t either . . . until she sat next to Cooper and teased him about his lack of language skills. The man was waaay too hot for his own boots.
“Hmmm, I know that look,” Trina hummed.
Heavy footfalls came from the hallway. Jeb walked in the room, a large box in his hands. “This was just delivered,” he said, setting it on the table.
Trina looked over the box before attempting to pierce the tape holding it together with her fingernail.
Jeb remove a knife from his back pocket and helped her open the package.
In it was a bouquet of white lilies.
A confused look crossed Trina’s face. “Wade?”
“Your husband sends you flowers instead of handing them to you?” Claire asked.
Trina shook her head, grabbed the card. “Not usually.” She read the card, turned it over, and read it again. “I don’t get it.”
Jeb hesitated.
“Not from Wade?” Claire asked.
“No it’s . . .” She handed the card to Jeb.
“‘Miss Scarlet, Dining Room, Revolver. Yours Faithfully, Charles.’” Jeb looked up. “Who the hell is Charles?”
A deep chill ran down Claire’s spine. “Let me see that.” She read the note, looked at the flowers.
“Isn’t that from the board game? Miss Scarlet in the dining room with the revolver?” Trina asked.
“Clue,” Jeb said.
Claire remembered the game vaguely, or the reference to it.
“I get Scarlet . . . but who is Charles? Shouldn’t it be Professor Plum or Colonel Mustard?” Trina asked.
“I don’t like this,” Jeb said, reaching for the box holding the flowers.
“This isn’t a clue, it’s a warning,” Claire stated.
“I’m really not much of a cook, I’m sorry to say,” Sasha told Marjorie as they stood in the kitchen over what would become their dinner. Throughout the late morning and early afternoon, AJ had kept most of the conversation going. He’d played the part of doting boyfriend a little too well. They’d agreed to stay for dinner, and now Sasha was standing over the sink with a potato peeler in her hands.
AJ was gathering wood by a shed in the back of the yard and bringing it closer to the house. At least that was the excuse he used to give Sasha time alone with his mother. Alex Senior was due home anytime, a meeting Sasha was hoping would shed light on the Hofmann parents’ dynamics.
“I wasn’t either at your age. It wasn’t until after AJ was born that I had to learn my way around the kitchen.”
Sasha started the task of peeling the skin off the potato. “You didn’t cook for Mr. Hofmann?” she asked.
“Not much in the beginning. We dined out a lot before the kids showed up.” Marjorie’s voice softened. “AJ would eat just about anything. Amelia was the picky one.”
They hadn’t talked much about her throughout the day. Only to say that t
hey’d gone to her place and grabbed her mail and would return to do the rest at a later date.
“AJ’s been pretty torn up about your daughter,” Sasha told her.
“We all are.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Have the police come up with anything?” Sasha watched Marjorie from the corner of her eye.
“No. I don’t think we’ll ever know who did this or why.” She stopped spreading seasoning over the roast she was preparing long enough to look up at Sasha. “Losing a child is the worst possible pain. Maybe when I’ve processed the fact that she’s gone I can spend my time trying to find out who did it. Right now I’m still numb.”
Emotion welled behind Marjorie’s eyes.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Sasha told her.
“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re there for my son. I know he’s been hard on himself since her death.”
Sasha looked down at the sink, slowly worked the potato. “I don’t really understand why. It’s not like he could have stopped it from happening.”
Marjorie started working on cutting an onion. “He wishes he’d had more time. They weren’t close when Alex took the job in Germany. I think AJ wishes he’d gone to school with his sister. At least that’s what he told us after her funeral.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Sasha played dumb. “He told me something about a boarding school.”
“A normal occurrence in Europe. People in the States don’t understand the concept.”
“Sounds strange to me.”
She chopped the onion with a heavy hand. “If you ever visit Europe, you might understand.”
Sasha finished one potato, picked up another. “AJ said he wanted to take me.”
“Is that right?”
She shrugged, pushed some of the blonde wig out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I told him we were moving too fast, but he said that life was short and sometimes you just need to live it like tomorrow isn’t going to happen.” Where had that come from? The words left her lips and then registered in her head.
“He just lost his sister. I suppose his actions are normal.”
Sasha felt herself going down that rabbit hole. “Rebound relationship.”
The noise from the cutting board stopped and Sasha stood with water rushing down the sink stuck in the thought of AJ holding her tight. She’d felt his pain when he spoke of his sister. It wasn’t until that moment that Sasha realized that he was reaching out to ease his loss.
“Oh, honey. I’m sure AJ sees you as more than a crutch after Amelia.”
Sasha shook away her thoughts.
Marjorie had moved to her side, laid a hand on her shoulder. “I see the way my son looks at you. And maybe you don’t know this, but he hasn’t brought a girl home since he was in high school. The fact that you’re here speaks volumes.”
Sasha unclenched her hands, relaxed her shoulders, and took a deep breath. “I know,” she lied. “For both our sakes, I’ll stop him from dragging me to a chapel in Vegas.”
AJ’s mother blinked several times.
“I mean . . . not that he did that.” Sasha went back to work, doubling her efforts with the potatoes. “He hinted. I said no way. Next thing I know we’re on our way here to visit you.”
“Isn’t that interesting.”
“I’m sorry. That was probably too much information. It isn’t like he’s asked me to marry him. There was a lot of tequila that night.”
“Yet here you are.”
Sasha offered the most innocent smile she could muster. “Crazy, right?”
The back door to the kitchen opened and AJ stood shaking out his coat. “I think I have enough firewood brought in for the night.”
“Thank you, honey. Your father hates that chore.”
The door from the front of the house closed as if AJ had timed it.
“Marjorie? Whose car is in the driveway?”
Sasha turned off the water and dried her hands on a kitchen towel. Time for round two.
“We’re in the kitchen, Alex,” AJ’s mom called out.
Footfalls moved closer. “Who are we?”
AJ stiffened beside her, reached for her hand. When Alex Senior turned the corner, he stopped and tracked AJ with his eyes. There was a hesitation in his smile.
“Look who came to visit!”
Both men faced each other. AJ stood a good three inches taller than his father, broader in the shoulders.
Sasha felt the tension rising.
“AJ, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
AJ released Sasha’s hand and moved to his father with his hand out. “Hey, Dad.”
They shook hands and then suffered an awkward half hug.
“Did we know you were coming?”
“No.”
Marjorie moved beside her husband. “AJ wanted us to meet his girlfriend, Jennifer.”
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
Adopting her Jennifer smile, Sasha lifted her hand. “He didn’t until after he met me. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hofmann. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Alex Hofmann grasped her hand to shake and let go as quickly as he could.
He looked down at himself and stepped back. “I’m going to go clean up. I take it you’re staying for dinner.”
“As long as you’re okay with that,” AJ said.
“Of course he’s okay with that. Aren’t you, Alex?” Marjorie asked.
Alex nodded. “Of course.”
Sasha placed a hand on AJ’s waist, gave a little nudge.
“After our last conversation, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted me to leave.”
Alex hesitated and some of the harsh lines in his eyes softened. “We were all emotional that day. I’ve already put it behind me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“It’s a warning.”
Claire stood in the middle of the war room while the card was passed around.
Jeb had taken the flowers outside and determined that they were in fact nothing but lilies. They’d arrived from a UPS truck and not a florist, so the team was working to figure out who had sent them.
“Miss Scarlet is Sasha. Right, everyone can see that.”
Cooper nodded enthusiastically.
“In the dining room with the revolver. Richter’s lower levels were reached through the dining hall. That’s where the indoor range is, the martial arts gym . . . any of the stuff not written on the brochure of academia.”
Trina sat beside Wade. “Who is Charles?”
“Checkpoint Charlie. He’s the gatekeeper. The guy who is always there. The guy who isn’t a teacher or any kind of administration, but who everyone knows.”
“He mans the gates?” Neil asked.
“No. The front door. Kinda like a doorman, only more than that. He always knows what’s going on. We could count on him to have our backs, so long as we weren’t doing anything really stupid. On my birthday this year, he reminded me that the legal drinking age in Germany is eighteen, and that I might find something if I could pick the lock on his locker.”
“I like this guy,” Cooper said.
“Everyone loves Charlie.”
“Like the maid or butler of the house. Knows everything that’s going on,” Wade offered.
“So he sends flowers to me?” Trina asked.
“Not just any flowers. Lilies. A flower associated with funerals.” Claire was beaming now.
“Why does that make you smile?” Trina asked.
“At Richter, if lilies were placed in the vases in the dining hall, it meant all subterranean classes were canceled for the day. It’s a code every student understood. It usually meant someone was visiting the school that had no idea about what we did down there. Any open house or graduation or promotion was littered with lilies.”
“How does Charlie know where Sasha is?” Wade asked.
Claire shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Sasha said something about Trina.”
“Our relationship isn�
��t a secret,” Trina said. “Even though Sasha’s pictures were kept out of the papers at the time of her father’s death, I’m pretty sure her name was linked.”
“Your late mother-in-law was Sasha’s benefactor. The headmistress would have known that. Charlie might have overheard something.” Claire sat on the edge of a sofa.
“Or the headmistress sent the flowers using Charlie’s name because he can be trusted,” Cooper suggested.
“Too dangerous for the head of the school to warn a past student.” Neil took a few steps, turned, and took a few more. “I think you’re right, Claire. The flowers are a warning to Sasha. If the program is being shut down, what do the players that lose the most want?”
“Revenge,” Isaac said from the sidelines.
“Right. And punishment to those responsible.”
“Sasha didn’t do anything,” Claire stated.
“They were grooming you. She helped you escape.” Neil stared at her. “The warning is for both of you. They were sent here, which means someone knows where we are, or at least assumes going through Trina will get to Sasha.”
“I don’t like how that sounds, Neil,” Wade said.
“I like it even less since Sasha’s not here.” Neil looked to Jeb. “No more deliveries. We stop them at the gate.”
Trina moved to sit next to her husband. “I’m not going to be with Lori when she delivers the twins.”
“I’m sure Lori will understand.” Wade hugged his wife.
The room filled with silence as they all took in the weight of the threat.
Neil pointed at Claire. “You!”
She jumped.
“Anything to report on Amelia’s computer files?”
“No . . . I was, uhm—”
He pointed to a vacant computer. “Cooper said they’re in German. That puts them in your inbox.”
She had an inbox? “Okay.”
“Let’s get to work, people. I want answers before the sun sets.”
AJ sat beside Sasha, his arm draped over her shoulders while they finished a cup of coffee by the fireplace. Dinner had included wine and a surprisingly pleasant conversation with his father.
The longer they sat talking, the less he thought it was possible his dad had anything to do with Amelia’s death. Maybe it was Sasha being there, or maybe it was the fact that Amelia no longer could stop in for dinner, but the chill off his dad seemed to have thawed.
Say It Again (First Wives) Page 21