Boji Stones

by Sandra Cox

  “That would have been a shame,” Hank murmured.

  She grinned. “Damn right, sugar.” Then looked around the table at each one in turn, no longer smiling, her expression sharp-edged and knowledgeable, “Now what do you know about this man?”

  Jack spoke up his expression grim. “His name is Victor Price. He’s very intelligent so he wouldn’t need the knowledge amulet. I’m assuming he’s going for the brass ring. He has two. He won’t be satisfied until he has them all. He’ll go for power. Maybe wealth but if he has power, he can get the wealth. So power is where we’ll need to concentrate.”

  Bella looked at Maureen. “How’d he get yours?”

  Maureen told Bella her story.

  “Tasered and drugged with chloroform? The man’s a maniac!” Bella explained.

  Just then Wolf barked.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Who the hell?” Jack muttered under his breath.

  “I’ll get it.” The kitchen chair scraped across the floor as Hank got up.

  He came back in with two suits behind him that had police written all over them, their faces expressionless, their gazes moving about the room. One was younger, one older and more seasoned.

  They both looked at Maureen. The older one spoke, “Miss Sinclair?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you remember me?”

  She blinked uncertain.

  “We were there the night you were run off the road.”

  She rose and held out her hand. “Of course, Detective Russo. I’ve got a feeling you saved my life.”

  “I’m just glad we were there. I must say you are looking amazingly well. We went back to the hospital and you’d already checked yourself out.” The older man’s eyes were narrowed, speculative.

  The younger man hung in the background.

  She shrugged and tipped her head. “I’ve had a phobia of hospitals ever since my mother passed away.”

  The detective nodded, his expression sympathetic, though his eyes remained watchful. “I can certainly understand that. They’re not my favorite spots either.” He glanced at the table. “I’ve interrupted your breakfast.”

  “We were just finishing up.”

  “The coffee sure smells good.”

  Maureen pointed at the table. “Why how remiss of me, please sit down and have a cup.”

  She got up and pulled two cups out of the cabinet and poured them coffee.

  Detective Russo reached for the coffee cup. “You told me that night you were going to a new horse rescue society meeting, on…” He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and glanced at his notes, though Maureen had the distinct feeling he knew exactly what he’d written down.

  “August third at seven p.m. on 1003 Brovard Street. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you heard any more from the society?”

  The younger officer watched her.

  Not so much by a blink did Maureen show the tension that filled her as her heart thumped against her breast in rapid fire beats. She could only hope these two astute professionals that studied human nature would not notice the rapid rise and fall of her tee shirt or the accelerated pulse beating against her neck.

  “No, I’m afraid it’s been about the last thing on my mind. I suppose I should call.”

  He looked her dead in the eye. “The society doesn’t exist.”

  Maureen put her hand to her throat. “What are you saying? How can that be?”

  “I was hoping you’d tell us.”

  He leaned back in the chair and tapped his fingers on the table watching her.

  “No, I really don’t know what to say.”

  He continued, his eyes locked with hers. “Not only doesn’t the society exist, the address is bogus. You were set up Miss Sinclair.”

  “Set up!”

  He looked at her his eyes probing. “That’s right. I was hoping you could tell me why. Do you have any enemies?”

  “None that I’m aware of.”

  “Obviously you made a bad one. I think someone was trying to kill you.”

  “Detective, you’re scaring me.”

  “Sometimes being scared isn’t a bad thing, it keeps you smart. Can you tell me about any enemies you’ve made in the past?”

  She shrugged her expression as bewildered as she could make it. “I have no idea.”

  “I see you have guests.” He looked around the table waiting.

  She introduced him pointing to each person in turn. “This is Professor Jack Wolfe. My foreman and right-hand man Hank McHenry. And Miss Isabella Tremaine.”

  “Miss Tremaine.” For a moment the detective’s eyes warmed.

  Maureen bit back a smile. That woman certainly did have an effect on a man.

  He turned toward Jack. “Is this business or pleasure, Professor Wolfe?”

  “Business for me, sir. I’d heard of Miss Sinclair’s ability to heal horses and I brought mine down. Thank God I did. She saved his life. I’m staying around for a few days to help out and work off my debt.”

  “Your face looks familiar.”

  “I write.”

  The detective gave a short nod then turned to Bella. “Miss Tremaine.”

  Bella winced as Maureen kicked her in the ankle under the table. “Strictly pleasure. I mean business. I’m here to buy one of Miss Sinclair’s lovely Arabians, which is a pleasure for me.” She gave the detective her hundred-watt smile.

  For a moment he seemed dazzled but recovered quickly. He cleared his throat and continued. “I see. You look familiar too. “

  “I paint.”

  “Ah, an artist.”

  She nodded.

  He glanced at her left arm then his eyes narrowed as his gaze slid to Maureen’s arm. “Is this a new trend?”

  Maureen lifted her eyebrows, tipped her head and shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve had my jewelry about two years. I like it so I wear it quite a bit.” She fought back the urge to rub her bare forearm and turned to Bella. “You, Bella?”

  “Longer.” Bella smiled but didn’t elaborate.

  “Would you mind showing them to me? I’m curious, never seen a bracelet worn on the forearm before,” the detective asked.

  “I misplaced mine,” Maureen said feeling panic rise in her throat. Why was he asking about the amulets?

  “Mine’s here in my purse if you’d like to see it,” Bella offered.

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all, sugar.”

  She dug it out and handed it to him.

  He turned it back and forth examining it. “I don’t recognize the stones.”

  Maureen stared at the amulet. Bella was right, it was just a plain piece of costume jewelry nothing more. But with the exception of the stones, the style was similar enough to hers to take her breath away.

  “Rose quartz and tourmaline,” Bella said.

  “Expensive?” The detective asked staring at it from one side then another.

  “Not really. You could probably pick up something like this for a couple of hundred.”

  “And where would I pick something like this up at?”

  She gave a tinkling laugh. “Probably QVD. I got mine in some quaint little craft shop in Charleston, South Carolina.”

  “Can you tell me the name of the shop?” he asked, his pencil posed over his notepad.

  Bella gave him a pretty smile and hunched her shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t remember the name of the store. It was several years ago. Why the interest in the jewelry, detective?”

  “Guess I’m just a curious kinda guy. I see two women both with an unusual tan mark on their left arm, I got to wonder why.” He handed it back and stood up looking from one to the other.

  His partner rose.

  “Coincidence?” Maureen volunteered.

  “That must be it,” the detective said his voice dry.

  He pulled a card out of his jacket pocket and tossed it on the table. “If any of you think of anything th
at might be relevant to the case, I’d appreciate it if you give me a call.”

  “Of course,” Maureen nodded.

  “Good day to you then, we’ll be in touch.”

  Hanks showed them to the door then immediately returned. He crossed his legs and leaned against the kitchen cabinet.

  “What’d you kick me for?” Bella demanded.

  “Do you think they’d buy into magic amulet theories?”

  “Do you take me for an idiot?” she retorted. She tapped her chin. “Both of us having amulets might be more believable if he thought they were worth something. Maybe I should have said a thousand but that ole boy is shrewd. He’s going to check it out.”

  “He’ll probably call QVD.”

  Bella shrugged. “Probably. Where do we go from here?”

  “We get back the amulets.” Maureen could feel fire shooting behind her eyes. The amulet was no longer there to keep her hot Irish temper under control. Actually it felt good to be able to let it go.

  Red silk strained across Bella’s breast as she locked her hands behind her head stretched and yawned. “Sorry, it was a long trip.”

  Hank’s eyes crossed.

  Jack blinked but catching Maureen’s gaze on him looked quickly away.

  Maureen managed not to roll her eyes, barely.

  Bella sipped the coffee and shuddered. “Cold.” Before she could ask for a refill Hank jumped up, grabbed her cup, hurried to the counter and brought her back a fresh cup.

  Bella smiled up at him. “Thanks, sugar.”

  He nodded, still mute.

  Maureen could only shake her head. Hank was taciturn by nature but the woman had struck him dumb. Dumb? Hm yes, a pretty fair analogy.

  Bella looked at Maureen. “I believe you said something about getting the amulet back. How?”

  Maureen shrugged, frustration boiling right below the surface. “Hire a detective.”

  Bella tilted her head and raised her eyebrows in a maybe gesture. “It’s a thought. Anyone have any ideas where this guy…”

  “Victor Price,” Jack put in.

  At least he can still talk. Maureen hid a catty smile behind her coffee cup.

  “Victor Price,” Bella nodded her thanks, “is?”

  “If we did, we wouldn’t be sitting around this table like we’re at a Sunday social,” Maureen snapped, feeling taut as the proverbial wire.

  “Oh, that’s helpful, honey.”

  Maureen jumped to her feet, her fists clenched, “Don’t you honey me,” she warned.

  Bella got to her feet, her eyes gleaming. “Think you can take me, shug?”

  Before Maureen could do more than snarl, she found herself shoved back in the chair, wincing as her bottom made solid contact with the hard wood seat.

  On his feet, Jack kept a restraining hand on Maureen’s shoulder.

  Hank walked round the table with unhurried steps. He held his arm out in a courtly gesture, pointing to the chair, “Ms. Tremaine, please won’t you sit down and finish your coffee.”

  Bella laughed and shook her head. “I must be more tired than I realized,” she said letting Hank settle her back in the chair then push her up to the table.

  “She’s Irish,” Hank explained sitting down. “And when she’s not wearing the amulet has the temper to match.”

  The blonde looked directly at Maureen. “Sugar, where I come from, nationality does not excuse bad manners.”

  “Sorry,” Maureen ground out knowing she sounded like a sulky teenager.

  Bella raised her eyebrows but didn’t belabor the point. “As I was saying, do we know where this guy is? Let me rephrase that. Any ideas?”

  Hank ran his fingers through his hair in a restless gesture, leaving tufts of silvered copper hair standing up in all directions. “We thought at first somewhere in Madison since that’s where the wreck took place and the emails came from, at least so we thought, right Marnie?”

  Her fingers splayed across her chin, Maureen squeezed her upper lip with her thumb and forefinger, staring out the kitchen window.

  “Right, Marnie?”

  “Hm?”

  “We think that Price fellow is somewhere in Madison.”

  Her gaze unfocused, deep in thought, she turned to Hank. “Do you remember old Mr. Bleaker’s cabin?”

  He moved about on the hard wooden seat. “Yes but what does that have to do with… Good God!”

  Jack leaned forward, his expression alert. “What?”

  Maureen’s eyes locked with Hank’s and she nodded. “It’s worth checking out.”

  Hank scraped back his chair.

  “Where are you going?” Jack asked.

  “Will somebody tell me what’s going on?” Bella pleaded.

  “You all stay here, I’ll check this out.” Hank was already on his feet and heading out the door.

  “It’s my amulet, I’m going.” Maureen notched her chin in the air.

  “Me too.” Bella stood up.

  Jack got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  They all clambered out the door, Jack having the presence of mind to lock it as they left.

  “Honey, we all won’t fit in your pickup,” Bella called as she watched him stride toward his big red Ford.

  “He’s going after his guns.”

  Bella nodded her approval and patted her bag. “I keep my little derringer right here.”

  Maureen rolled her eyes.

  * * * * *

  He straightened and looked in the mirror. Satisfaction gleamed back at him from liquid brown eyes, his features aesthetic and perfect. A quiver running from beneath his eye to his chin pulled his mouth down like a circus clown’s but he knew it was just a matter of time ’til the tremor disappeared.

  Chapter Eight

  Hank retrieved his handgun from the glove compartment and they piled into Jack’s SUV.

  Putting the car into reverse, Jack asked, “Where is this place?”

  “Take a left. It’s about four miles down the road,” Hank directed from the passenger seat.

  Tension flickered up and down Maureen’s backbone as they drove in silence. Too anxious to relax against the backseat’s soft leather interior, she sat rigid and pointed toward a dirt lane on the right. “There, turn in there.”

  Jack stopped the car at the end of the lane. “Why don’t you all hunker down in your seats? If he is there, we don’t want him bolting or giving him time to ditch the amulets.”

  “He might ditch ’em, but I guarantee he’ll tell us where they are,” Hank said, his expression grim as a soldier’s going into battle.

  “And I’ve got no problems with the women hunkering but I want that son of a bitch to see my face.”

  “Suit yourself,” Jack shrugged and started the car back up.

  He drove down the lane then braked in front of a small white cabin. “Looks empty. I’ll go take a look-see.”

  “We’ll go take a look,” Hank corrected.

  “Right,” Jack agreed with a short clip of his chin.

  Maureen opened the door. “We’ll all go.”

  Before Jack could object, Hank volunteered, “No point in arguing with her.”

  “Okay, I’ll go to the front door, Hank take the back. Bella go with Hank. Maureen stay with me.”

  Bending low they ran toward the house.

  Bella and Hank snuck around the back.

  Jack motioned to Maureen. She flattened herself against the wood siding as he knocked on the door. When there was no answer he tried the knob. The door creaked open.

  He stepped inside with Maureen at his heels.

  Glancing around the empty foyer they walked quickly through the rooms.

  Maureen jumped as a door slammed against the wall in the back of the house. “Hank?” she called out, her voice quavering. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hank?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  Her shoulders sagged in relief then tensed as she heard a scream. As she ran into the kitchen Jack caught up with her and shove
d her behind him.

  “What’s wrong? Are you all right,” she gasped out, stepping around him.

  Bella gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, shug, saw a mouse.”

  Maureen clapped her hand over her heart. “Geez, you scared ten years off me.”

  “Scared ten off myself and I can’t afford it.” She looked around. “No one’s here are they?”

  Hank had wandered out of the room. He came back in, his expression grim. “Not now but someone was here.“ He held two canes in his hand.

  Maureen felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s wearing the amulet.”

  Jack standing next to her reached over and squeezed her shoulder. It comforted her but didn’t alleviate the feeling of nausea.

  Bella took control. “It was a long shot anyway. Let’s go back to the house and figure out what we’re going to do.” She looked directly at Maureen and beneath all the feminine fluff and honeyed Southern accent her eyes were like chips of ice. “I’m with you shug, I’m getting my amulet back.”

  She turned on her spiky black heels and headed for the car, the rest of them trailing behind her.

  Maureen studied her fellow passengers as they drove back in silence. Hank she knew and trusted. Bella was on the level, remnants of the amulet’s aura still clung to her. She would be a good ally. Beneath the empty-headed blonde exterior was a shrewd woman. Jack was the wild card. She couldn’t get past the fact that he had shown up unexpectedly the same night she’d been run off the road and that he’d been just a few minutes too late to protect her when Victor had attacked her when she was out riding. And then he’d slept through the final attack when that madman had confiscated her amulet. Even though she’d defended him to Hank, there were still insidious tendrils of doubt that wrapped around her and squeezed.

  She jumped as an elbow planted itself against her ribs.

  “We’re back at the ranch, shug.”

  They opened the doors and trooped back to the kitchen. Seeking comfort she supposed, going to the heart of the home. She walked to the frig and grabbed a bottle of water. “Anyone want one?” When there were no takers she shut the door and turned. “So what are we going to do?”