“How about we get to work?” he asked. “We have that tour tonight, and I was thinking about giving Beckett and Claire a night off to chill out. We’re going to need his gift, and I don’t want to burn him out.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yes.”
That sounded like a really good plan.
To say that Beckett was nervous as hell would be an understatement.
A huge one.
When he pulled out of the driveway, in his mind, he practiced what he was going to say to the woman when he called. Unfortunately, now that he was dialing, he was pretty freaked out.
On the second ring, a voice came over the phone.
“Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want it.”
Then the language changed to something Native and unrecognizable, and Beckett got nervous.
“Understand?” she stated.
“Um, is this Mrs. Clarissa Littlemoon?” he asked, hesitantly, pushing on despite the nerves.
“Yes, and I’m not interested in whatever it is that you’re trying to hock.”
He took a deep breath. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Julian was right. The gatekeeper was intimidating.
“I’m not selling anything, Mrs. Littlemoon. My name is Beckett Rand.”
She immediately recognized the name. “Oh, you work for my son. Hello, Beckett. I’m sorry, but I keep getting people trying to sell me things that I don’t need. What’s wrong? If you’re looking for Julian, that rotten boy hasn’t come to see me in a while. When I see him, I’m going to tan his hide.”
Shit!
She was tough, and he wasn’t good with parents. Look at his life.
“Actually, ma’am, I need to talk to you.”
That had her pausing. “Is he hurt? Is my Victoria okay?” Then she thought about it. “Has something happened to the baby?”
Beckett saw where Claire got her persistent curiosity from. It was definitely from her mother. She fired questions at him one after another.
“Ma’am, I’m calling to tell you that I’m having a relationship with Claire. We’re involved, and I wanted to discuss it with you.”
She was caught off guard.
This was a first.
Her kids all did what they wanted, and then let her in on it after the fact.
“You’re sleeping with my girl?” she asked.
Beckett pushed on. “Yes, and I’m calling to ask your permission to marry her.”
There was silence.
He actually looked down at his phone to see if she hung up on him. “Ma’am? Are you still there?”
“You’re asking my permission? Is this some joke? Did my sons put you up to this? Julian and Justin like a good prank and this sounds like something they’d do to me.”
“No, Mrs. Littlemoon. I want to marry Claire. I’m crazy about her.”
“Where is she? Put her on the phone.”
“Well, I didn't ask her yet. You’re the first to know my intentions.”
Again, there was more silence.
“So, you’re asking my permission, BEFORE asking my daughter.”
“I know it’s old fashioned, but I really wanted to talk to you first. I figured that since her father isn't with us anymore, you were the next person in line.”
“If I say no?” she tested, wanting to see what the man was made out of.
“Well, I’m still going to ask her, but I thought that her mother, who she loves a great deal, should be involved in this.”
“Will you get married on the Rez?”?
“Sure. Do you have a place in mind?” he asked.
Clarissa was in disbelief. If this was a joke, someone was going to get hurt. “I do. How do you feel about Native food for the reception?”
“I’ve never had it, but I’m sure that if it’s important to your family, then it’s fine with me. I just want Claire to be happy.”
“Are you Native?” she asked.
“I’m told I appear to have some Native blood, but that’s all I know.”
That didn't matter to her at all. The rest of her children all picked outsiders. What was one more?
She was willing to overlook that, ESPECIALLY since he was the one who called and asked permission first. “You may marry her, but I warn you, Roger has to have the final say.”
He was confused.
“Who’s that?”
“Our guard dog. When you’re done there, you bring my Claire and come see me. If you pass, you can marry her.”
“And if he hates me?”
She laughed. “You asked permission. It doesn’t matter what he says. I love you already. Finally! There is a child in this family with manners.”
Beckett laughed. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She immediately chided him. “Mom. If you don’t call me Mom, you don’t get to marry my child. It’s a rule in this family. Ask Victoria.”
He started laughing. “I think I can do that, Mom.”
“I can’t wait to tell everyone.”
“Uh, I haven’t asked Claire yet. Can you give me head start?” Beckett asked.
The woman laughed. “Yes, I can. Thank you for calling and thinking to include me in your family. Your parents must be proud of the way they raised you. I’m happy to have you in our tribe.”
He didn't say a word.
Beckett only wished what she had said about his parents was true. Instead, it was the exact opposite.
They disowned him. His lies had driven his mother to leave and made his father a cold and bitter old man.
He tried to cover, hoping the woman didn't suspect anything.
“Does this make me your favorite?” he teased.
The woman heard the angst in his voice, and she made a note to talk to her son. He would fill her in. In fact, she was going to call him immediately.
“Nice try, but Tori will always be my favorite.”
He laughed. “Well, I had to give it a shot.”
~ Chapter Twenty ~
Tuesday Afternoon
He watched them with intense interest.
From the shadows, he saw everything they did. The best part was that they didn't see him. He blended in, morphing into the landscape around ‘The Killing House’.
While they walked around, past the windows and down the halls, he was able to track them.
There was no way to hide from him.
He’d done his research and found that they were going to be taking a tour. Elianna would be keeping them busy, and that gave him the perfect opportunity to dig around.
He needed to be sure that they were on track.
If they deviated, he wouldn’t be happy. He had tried to find the items, but failed. These four were very good at their jobs, and he needed them.
It was a lucky day when that twit Chester Lamont hired them. Little did that man know that he would be handing him the gold on a silver platter.
A lifelong dream would be achieved.
His father, if he was alive, would have been pleased. Finally, the treasure that was theirs was within their grasp.
He couldn’t wait.
Ducking, he made sure he wasn’t seen. When the sheriff had left, he was sure that his chances were shot, but instead, it was looking just as good as before.
As soon as they left for the night, he’d sneak in and check out the notes and information they found. That way, he’d be in the thick of it, without them even knowing.
It was perfect.
He was genius.
If they stayed on track, they would live until the end.
If they didn't…
They had to die.
* * *
Once returning from his supply trip, Beckett rushed through putting all the groceries away. When he’d been out shopping, he’d picked up a few things that he was familiar with when it came to cooking.
He hoped he’d get to show Claire his kitchen skills.
He’d really never wanted to cook for anyone before her. She made him want to do crazy thing
s, like propose this early in their relationship, run away with her, and face down her mother.
It was crazy.
It was out of control.
It was perfect…
After finishing up, he found the trio in the living room pulling the contents of the metal box apart. He didn't need them to tell him what was happening.
They were searching for another clue.
“Any luck?” he asked, sitting beside Claire on the couch.
Julian sighed exasperatedly. “No. Maybe you can see what you feel?” he offered hopefully.
The man touched the paper, cradling in his hands. As he waited for the rush of visions, there was barely anything.
It was a dud.
“Nothing. Sorry.”
Tori tried to rationalize it. “The clue has always been with the object. The key had it inscribed and the wine had it on the label, so it has to be in this box.”
Julian agreed. “We have to be missing it.”
Pulling out the letters, they went back to work. They worked in silence, saying nothing, until something caught Beckett’s attention. As he read over Claire’s shoulder, his trained eye picked it up.
“That’s wrong.”
They all looked over.
“What?” Julian asked curiously.
Without touching the letter, he pointed at the script. “If you check out the handwriting, you’ll notice that it’s slightly different from the other letters. Plus, I don’t see a signature.”
Claire flipped it over in her hands. “Do you want to hold it?” she asked, hoping that it wouldn’t put him into some sort of catatonic state.
He didn't want to, but what choice did he have?
“Sure.”
Julian watched as his sister handed Beckett the ancient letter. Within seconds, the man was, for a lack of better words, gone.
Claire watched carefully, making sure that no more tension filled his face. When he had held it for almost a minute, she took it from his fingers.
“Well?” Tori asked.
“There was no violence. I just kept seeing a woman’s face. She was young, then older, and then finally dead.”
“Please don’t tell me she’s buried here too,” Julian stated. “We don’t need to keep digging up bodies.”
He shook his head.
“No, she didn't feel like she was murdered here. She felt like she was attached to this letter. It was the same face, only different expressions.”
Claire was curious. “What did she look like, Beck?”
He thought about it. “She was average looking with jet black hair. The only way I knew it was her was the prominent eyebrow.”
Julian lifted his. “Explain?”
“She only had one, and it was straight across her forehead. I guess they didn't have tweezers.”
There was that wave of awareness.
Claire sat up and grinned. “I’ve seen her before. I bet that’s Christabel.”
That had Julian’s attention. “Where did you see her? There were no photos in the books or journals.”
She was well aware. “When we were digging in the wine cellar for the bottle of wine, I saw an old crate. I was curious, so I peeked inside. There are pictures in there. They must have belonged to the family at some point. They’re ancient.”
“How do you know it was her?”
Claire laughed. “She had a unibrow and was dressed like a pirate. I’m just taking a wild guess here, but that might be why.”
Tori picked up the letter and read it. “Are you sure? This is just a plain old letter from Cristabel’s father to the captain.”
Beckett shook his head. “I’m telling you. I don’t see a sea captain when I touch that. I see her. Could she have written it to hide it in plain sight?”
Anything was possible.
“Tori, translate it,” Julian stated.
She read it over.
‘My dear friend,
I hope this sees you well. If you’re receiving this, the gold has arrived and I have hidden it like you suggested. If you want to find it, seek out my daughter’s smiling face. She’ll hold the key.
Sending my regards.’
Beckett was convinced. “If you read all the letters, they are from the captain to the father. Here, you have the only letter that is from the ‘father’ to the captain. Why would it be here? Why didn't he have it delivered?”
Tori contemplated it. “It fits. Maybe we should head down and find that picture. He may be right.”
Beckett had that feeling.
“Okay,” stated Julian, “but we can’t destroy that painting. No one tears it apart until we find a way to do it carefully. If that’s from this era, it’s going to be worth money. It should belong to the historical society, not be sitting in some dusty old box in a basement.”
They agreed.
Heading down, they all stood anxiously as the picture was pulled out. Julian held it in his hands, and one thing was for certain. Beckett had been right.
Christabel was distinctive.
Before he could suggest the man touch it, Tori’s hand went to his arm.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Music,” she muttered, bracing herself for the onslaught of what was to come.
Immediately, she went under, being pulled into some dark place. When she opened her eyes, everyone around her was gone with the exception of Bethany, and a man she recognized as Jeffery Lamont.
He started wailing with pain.
Tori covered her ears as his shrill voice nearly took her to her knees.
Bethany shushed him. “I’m sorry, Tori. They said they were going to do something big to get your attention. This was the safest way.”
She slowly uncovered her ears, hoping that the man was done. It was weird how she could hear Bethany clear as day, but the other ghosts were garbled.
Slowly, Bethany faded and the man moved closer to Tori. She instinctually stepped back. That might have been out of surprise, or the fact that he looked like hell. His body was bloated, decaying, and bloody.
Someone had knocked the man on the skull.
Well, that mystery was solved.
What also caught her attention was that he was dripping wet and had lily pads all over him.
Yeah, she knew what that meant too--they had a floater.
“What do you want, Jeffery?” Tori asked, hoping Bethany could save her if the man went crazy. This was all too weird for her.
“FIND ME!”
“We’re trying. How about you tell me where you are?” she offered.
“You have to find me!”
He ignored her words. Maybe he couldn’t understand her. Tori knew listening to him was a bitch too.
“Who did this to you?”
“FIND ME!”
Tori focused on Bethany. “Can you please ask him who did this? I don’t think he’s hearing me.”
She waited as the buzzing began.
Bethany got clearer and moved toward her. “He said he only trusted a few. Someone betrayed him.”
Okay, that narrowed it down.
“Does he know who?”
“Trusted! Trusted! Trusted!” he repeated over and over again, as a fat water toad slithered from his mouth.
Tori stepped back, incredibly grossed out. It was reminiscent of something from a horror movie. There was now no doubt in her mind.
He was in the water.
If they were searching for all six victims that meant that someone was going to be taking a swim at some point. It was likely going to be her.
Julian was going to lose his damn mind.
“WHO KILLED YOU!” she shouted, hoping he’d hear her over the buzzing static.
Bethany shook her head. “He doesn’t know. He was hit from behind.”
“Trust killed me. Help. Please.”
With that, he began fading out.
Bethany was now in full form. “I’m sorry. I had to give him some of my energy. He’s new at this dead thing. It’s goin
g to take him a long time to get used to it.”
Tori wished she understood. Then again, no she really didn't.
“Can you find out if any of them know who did this? It would help us wrap this case.”
She nodded. “I’ll try, Tori. Please be careful. I have a bad feeling about this. It’s like the time the man I loved hurt me.”
Tori nodded. “You should have listened to your gut. That’s how you ended up in that damn box.”
Bethany didn't laugh. “I’m well aware.”
With that, Tori started to feel dizzy. The dark was back, and she felt like she was on some twisting ride at an amusement park.
Before breaking through the inkiness, she could hear them talking. When she pulled away, they were all staring at her like she was a ghost herself.
“What?”
Julian took her hand. “The second you went under, the lights began flickering here, and there was this really cold chill.”
“I was hanging out with our victim, Jeffery Lamont. He had something to say.”
Julian got excited. “Please tell me you got something viable. I really want to get the hell out of here.”
He wasn’t the only one.
They were all at their limits.
“Well, he’s definitely dead, covered in lily pads, and very angry.” She told them the rest, especially the part about trusting someone. What she did leave out was that he was in the water. Tori had to find a way to break that to him.
Julian wanted out of there. “Let’s head to the living room and discuss this. I get the willies down here in the basement.”
“It’s just Bethany checking out your ass.”
He was appalled. “I may throw up.”
They all laughed.
At least they could find humor in it.
Upstairs, they all took a seat.
“Okay, so you saw him and the killer was someone he trusted.”
She nodded. “We can break this down. It might help us.”
Claire pulled out her notepad. “Shoot.”
“We have his brother,” stated Julian. “He’s at the top of my list. Who would he trust more than his own flesh and blood?”
Tori agreed.
“He would also trust his business partners,” stated Beckett. “Elianna and Andy Dawkins would be able to sneak up on him. They also know this town, history, and house.”
Unthinkable Games (LIttlemoon Investigations Book 3) Page 33