I moved to the windows, staring down at the view in awe. I’d never stayed anywhere so fancy in my life.
But then I remembered why I was here and started searching for a room phone. I found it, but somehow Kate had already removed the cord connecting it to the wall.
I could leave the room, but I wouldn’t be able to get back in since Kate had taken the keycards into the bedroom with her. As soon as the shower turned on in the connected bathroom, I did a quick check of the doorknob, but it proved to be locked.
The only thing I could do was wait, which made me feel like a traitor to everyone back home. I flopped down on the sofa, taking in the view while I mulled over everything I’d discovered this morning.
It hadn’t surprised me to learn Skeeter had jumped at the chance to get in thick with a Dallas crime syndicate. I knew he was ambitious—look at the lengths he’d gone to when he found out about Rose’s abilities—but I suspected his involvement wasn’t limited to prescription drugs. How deep did it go?
My thoughts jumped to Carly. I was sure she was in even more danger than we’d realized. Why hadn’t I remembered to warn Jed during our call?
The water in the bathroom stopped and my stomach suddenly flopped around like a carp lying out in the sun on the bank of Shute Creek.
The door to the bedroom opened and she appeared, her head wrapped in a towel and another towel wrapped around her body. “We need to chat about this morning,” she said. “Come sit on the bed while I get ready.”
“Okay.”
She’d dumped the contents of her bag onto the bed—jeans, T-shirts, a couple of dresses, three-inch brown ankle boots, some sexy lingerie, a pair of tan dress pants, and a cream-colored sweater that looked like it cost more than my old car. I pushed a pair of jeans toward the center so I could take a seat and watched while she quickly applied makeup. She was going for the Texas sorority look again based on the pink and soft brown palette she had out.
“I need to call Jed,” I said. “I have to warn him about Carly.”
“Carly’s fine,” she said, patting foundation onto her face with a makeup sponge.
“You don’t know that,” I insisted. “You don’t know which way the wind’s blowin’. She needs to be ready to run.” Which killed me, but I had no idea how Jed could fix this mess. Not without taking Hardshaw down.
Could we take Hardshaw down?
Kate glanced at my reflection in the mirror. “I can see the wheels spinning in your head, sister mine,” she said with a grin. “What are you thinking about?”
“Jed,” I said, not entirely a lie.
“And?” she prompted. When I didn’t answer, she added, “It had something to do with Caroline Blakely.” And she didn’t sound happy about it.
“You have no reason to feel threatened by Carly,” I said. “She’s more Rose’s friend than mine. She lives with her and helped take care of Rose’s dyin’ sister until the end.”
The dark scowl on her face reminded me that she hated Rose even more than the threat of Carly.
“You have to promise not to hurt my friends, Kate,” I said. “I need to be here because I want to be, not because I’m worried about the consequences if I leave.”
“You say fear isn’t your motivation for being here, but I think I’ll keep Rose Petal and her sidekick in my back pocket just in case.”
“You don’t need them,” I said, then stood and walked up to her, catching her gaze in the mirror. “You’re enough, Kate. Just you.”
She looked momentarily startled—and then she snapped on me like a mousetrap. “I don’t need self-help motivational speeches from you, Neely Kate. You’re nothing but a broken piece of trailer trash that I’ve deigned to show an interest in.”
Her words hurt, but I knew what she was doing. I continued to hold her gaze, my voice soft and even as I said, “You’re right. I’ve spent most of my life worryin’ about money. And the first half of my life was spent in a trailer, but I’m not worthless, and neither are you.”
Her eyes turned glassy, then her gaze darted to her makeup bag. “You need to stay here while I go meet Tara.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” I asked. I’d hoped to be privy to their conversation.
“I can’t risk you being seen with me. Tara doesn’t know shit, and her loyalty lies with me, but for all I know, Paula’s figured out that I’ve bought out her assistant. And if Paula’s interested in Fenton County and her stepson’s death, I’m sure as hell not offering you up on a silver platter.”
There was a protectiveness in her voice that caught me by surprise. Equally shocking was how much it warmed my heart. “So you trust me to stay here and wait for you?”
“You could have run a number of times this morning, but you didn’t.” She started swiping on eyeshadow, then met my gaze in the mirror. “So maybe you really do want to be here.”
“I need something to do,” I said. “Leave your laptop and give me something to research.”
“I don’t have my laptop and I’m not giving you access to the internet or a phone,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I trust you but not that much.”
“Kate.”
“No,” she said in a harsh tone. “And we’re not discussing it anymore or I’ll have to tie you up when I leave.”
So much for progress.
I turned my back to her and walked out into the living room, my mind racing. I sure as Pete wasn’t going to stay here and wait for her to come back. I’d done enough waiting and seeing lately to last a lifetime, and I was plum sick of it. I had to do something.
I was on the sofa, channel surfing on the TV when she emerged in the tan slacks, sweater, and ankle boots. She’d blow-dried her long blond hair into waves and with her makeup, she looked like she belonged at a country club sipping cocktails. But I couldn’t get over how much she looked like me.
I swung my feet to the floor and leaned forward. “Let me come with you as your sister. Just like you told the waitress this morning.”
“That waitress was no one. Tara is Paula’s assistant. You’re not going anywhere near her.”
I gave her an exaggerated pout. “Where are you goin’? How long do you plan to be gone?”
She released a short laugh. “Not as long as you think, I’m meeting her for coffee at the coffee shop next door. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She picked up her fancy purse from the entry table and took a quick glance inside, then lifted her gaze to me. “Did you look inside it?
“I’m not stupid enough to think you’d leave something of interest in it,” I said. “So I didn’t waste my time.”
She didn’t look convinced—with good reason—but she slipped the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know it, then we’ll continue on to the next leg of our journey. This detour will be a dot in our rearview mirror.”
Why was she rambling? Then it hit me. “You’re nervous,” I said, the thought making me nervous. Kate never seemed fazed.
“I’m not nervous,” she scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’re talking in clichés and you’re not doing it ironically. You’re nervous.”
She sucked in a breath then walked toward the door, pulling a tape dispenser out of her purse. Holding it up, she said, “I can’t lock you in, so this is the next best thing.” She opened the door and hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the hallway doorknob. “I’m putting tape on the door. If I find it disturbed, not only will I march you over to Paula Manchester, I’ll kill that Carly bitch too.”
Then she slammed the door shut.
So much for progress.
Chapter 19
I waited several minutes to make sure she was really gone, then headed into the bedroom to search her bag. She’d repacked it—probably in a specific order to determine if I’d snooped—but I didn’t hold back. When I didn’t find any secret pockets in the bag, I searched the pockets of her clothes. I found a big fat nothing, then I saw the closed door of the safe. She’d locked something insid
e. My phone was in there, of course, but what else? Try as I might, I couldn’t figure out her password. I found her black wig on the counter, so I put my hair into a bun, then pulled the wig over my head, wondering how she’d stuffed her extensions up inside. After I got the wig settled, I took a glance at myself in the mirror. For some reason, it shocked me to see the resemblance went both ways—I looked a lot like Kate. Anyone who knew us would realize the mistake right away, but a stranger might fall for it.
Could I use that to my advantage? Could it also bite me in the butt?
I put the wig back where I found it, filing the information away for later.
With nothing better to do, I kept searching the bedroom and bathroom to see if she’d hidden anything that wouldn’t fit in the safe. I was still going through her cosmetics bag when I caught her reflection in the mirror.
“Snooping?” she asked in a half-amused/half-annoyed tone.
“I got tired of waiting for you and decided to put on some of your makeup. Trailer trash like me doesn’t have the expensive stuff.” I squirted some foundation onto my fingertips and flashed her a smile. “Have a good meetin’?”
“As well as can be expected.” She shook her head in disgust. “You can’t apply that with your fingertips like a savage. You need to use a sponge.” She walked over and picked up a teardrop-shaped sponge, applied a drop of foundation and started to pat it on my face. “Find anything in your search?” Her eyes lit up in amusement.
I could deny looking, but I didn’t see the point. “Nothing interesting.”
Pride filled her eyes. “Are you hungry?”
“I considered ordering room service, but I worried you’d drag me off to that psychopath’s mother if the room service employee didn’t get the tape back on right.”
“At least you were smart enough to realize it. I thought we could eat lunch here before we go. Did you look at the room service menu?”
“Not really. I was too busy going through your stuff.”
She laughed. “You’re a breath of fresh air.”
“That’s right,” I said, closing my eyes as she swiped primer on my eyelids. “Just like the cloud of stench that hangs over the farm after my cousin Alan Jackson overturns the mud in the pig sty.”
She laughed again. “I wouldn’t call that fresh.”
“To each his own.” I could feel her swiping my eyelids with her makeup brush. For all I knew, she was making me look like a clown, then would threaten to cut off my toes if I wiped it off. “What did you find out from your meeting with Tara?”
“I’m not going to tell you that,” she said, still applying eyeshadow.
“I thought we were besties now. I thought I was helpin’ you.”
“I’m helping you,” she said as I felt her brushing my cheek with a brush. “And you’re safer not knowing. I’m doing it to protect you.”
I opened my eyes. “I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child who needs to be protected from the big bad wolf. I need to take charge of my own life.”
“This is about my life, Neely Kate,” she snapped. “Not yours.”
“That’s malarkey and you know it. It has everything to do with me. You made it about me when you dug up the skeletons of my past last year.”
She shot me a glare but remained silent as she finished applying my makeup. Finally, she set down her brushes and took a long look at me, then removed the pins holding up my loose bun. As my hair fell down my back, she turned me to face the mirror.
“We really do look like sisters,” she said softly.
I didn’t answer, because she was right, and I wasn’t sure how to process that. While Joe and I bore a slight resemblance, Kate and I were unmistakably related.
“Are you in trouble with Hardshaw, Kate?” I asked in a whisper.
Her eyes met mine and I saw a flash of genuine worry before the sarcastic woman I knew returned. “I’m fine, sister mine. I always land on my feet. This trip is to make sure you land on yours.”
I decided to quit beating around the bush and took a more direct approach. “Does Paula Manchester think I killed her son?”
Her expression wavered again.
“Kate! I deserve an answer.”
“She’s curious about you but doesn’t know how you fit into all of it.”
“What does that mean?”
She turned and strode from the bedroom. “I’m hungry. Do I want a juicy burger or a salad? My skinny jeans are tight after this morning’s pancake feast.”
I followed her out of the room and found her already looking at the room service menu. “Kate.”
She continued to study the page. “She thinks Stella and Branson killed Pearce Manchester, just like I sold it. But she doesn’t understand why Carson thinks you have the money.”
“And why does Carson think I have the money?”
She paused, then turned the page. “Me.” Standing up straight, she turned to face me. “Salad it is. What about you?”
The head of the Hardshaw Group thought I had his money because of my sister and her masquerade as Andrea. My appetite had fled. “How can you eat right now?”
“What?” she said, looking confused. Then she rolled her eyes and waved a hand. “Oh. That. I have it under control, NK.”
“Why did Paula Manchester meet Carson at the Hardshaw meeting place?”
She pushed out an exaggerated sigh. “She wanted to know what he knew about you.”
“And…?”
“He told her you were nothing important. That the people responsible for her son’s death had been killed.”
“How has he not put two and two together? How can he not know you’re Kate Simmons?”
“Because I told him I’m handling it. It’s my pet project. It’s barely a blip on his radar. He only met her as a courtesy.”
“Yet he couldn’t be bothered to let you know he was meetin’ her,” I said. “And he didn’t send you instead.”
She remained expressionless for several seconds before she walked over to her purse and pulled out the phone cord. “Last call for room service. We won’t find food this good where we’re going next.”
“And where’s that, Kate?”
She laughed. “What would be the fun in telling you now? You’ll find out when it’s time.”
After we ate our room service lunch—I ordered a steak since Kate claimed they were good and she was paying for it—Kate insisted she needed a nap. She closed herself into the bedroom—with the phone cord—leaving me alone in the shared living area. I considered sneaking out and finding a phone to call Jed or Joe, but I didn’t have much new information to give them, and I decided to see this through for now. I was more convinced than ever that Kate was trying to protect me, and I got the feeling that part of this trip really was about sister bonding. I’d already admitted that I wanted that too. Part of me wondered if I could stop her from hurting other people, but my granny had always said you couldn’t keep a pig from playing in the mud. It was foolish of me to think I could change her. If I were smart, I’d turn her in to the police, but then I wouldn’t get my answers.
I’m sure it said something about my character, but so be it.
She emerged from the room around four o’clock and announced we could pack up to go. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa watching a marathon of an HGTV design show, and sat up blinking.
Kate narrowed her eyes as she studied the TV screen. “Is that where you’re getting your inspiration for your little house with Mr. Sexy?”
I hesitated before answering. Usually she asked questions about my personal life as if I were a simpleton she enjoyed ridiculing, but she seemed to be genuinely interested. “It’s a fresh take on farmhouse style,” I said, then added, “I like it.”
“It suits you.” Then she spun around and headed back into the bedroom. “We’re leaving in five minutes.”
I hadn’t unpacked anything so I was ready when she emerged wearing jeans and a T-shirt that said, I don’t give a sh!t. Her eye makeup w
as darker, but she hadn’t put her black wig back on.
“Keepin’ the blonde?” I asked.
She gave me a glare.
“I like it,” I said, flippantly. “I like that we look alike.” Although I couldn’t help wondering again if it would come back to bite me in the butt.
She put her ballcap back on—maybe “Ms. Peabody” hadn’t been a blonde—and we collected our things and left the room. As we stepped into the elevator, Kate pulled out her sunglasses, and she slid them on as we left the lobby.
Kate collected the car from the valet, and we pulled onto the interstate, heading north. “Where are we goin’, Kate?” I asked again. Maybe she’d answer me this time. She was nothing if not fickle.
She turned to glance at me, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I’m going to tell you what’s so important about that money.”
Chapter 20
We headed north, up to Oklahoma. My stomach was a twisted knot as we approached Ardmore soon after crossing the Texas/Oklahoma border, so a wave of relief washed through me when we passed the last Ardmore exit.
Kate turned to me, wearing a serious expression. “You never have to go there again. That storybook is closed.”
I didn’t respond, just turned to look out the passenger window, not even trying to guess our actual destination.
When we reached Oklahoma City, she turned onto Interstate 40, which I knew ran through Little Rock. Was she taking the long way home? But I suspected she had at least one pit stop planned first.
We stopped for gas, then soon turned north toward Tulsa until she turned off into some tiny town I missed the name of.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” Kate said. “Then pick this back up tomorrow.”
I almost questioned her but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. She’d only tell me if she felt like it.
The next morning, Kate seemed in no hurry to leave, instead flipping on Food Network and lying back on the bed, her head elevated with propped-up pillows. They were airing an episode of Chopped.
“What are you waiting for, Kate?” I asked.
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