Unintended Detour: A Christian Suspense Novel (The Unintended Series Book 3)

by D. L. Wood

  “You’re still here,” Jack said, whispering in her ear.

  She gasped and jumped, turning to find him right behind her. She had been so immersed in smoothing the housemaid’s uniform on the mannequin that she hadn’t heard him. “You scared me,” she said, chuckling, a little embarrassed.

  “You need to be more aware, Chlo. I could’ve been—”

  “I know, I know. I just got so caught up in it. How’s Riley?”

  “Good. Or as good as can be, I guess. He’s improving steadily. They’re fairly confident they’ll be able to remove the tube tomorrow.”

  Chloe hugged Jack. “I’m so glad. But he’s tough. I never expected anything else.”

  “Yeah, well now I’ll never be able to complain about my leg again. Ever. Getting gutted in the chest trumps getting shot in the leg.”

  “I’d say it’s a draw.”

  “Well, you’re not a SEAL. But”—he spun in a circle, taking the entire space in—“you’re nearly as tenacious as one. How can you still be here?”

  “I wanted it to be right.”

  “It’s incredible. And now,” he took her hand and swung it in his, “it’s time for you to walk away. It’s our anniversary, and the celebration officially starts now. The ball starts at seven thirty, which is”—he checked his watch—“a little less than three hours from now. It’s time for a little you-and-me time.”

  Chloe took a deep breath and looked around. She’d done all she could. “You know, if we hustle, we’ve probably got about fifteen minutes before the last of the sunset disappears. You game?”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the exit. “Always.”

  They made it to the pergola in time to see the last sunset of the year. Another couple sat on a bench opposite them but kept to themselves as much as was possible in the ten-foot space. Once again, God’s end-of-day show did not disappoint, with orange, pinks, and purples blazing across the horizon till the western shore was nothing more than a black shadow of outlines and pinpoints of lights flickering in the darkness.

  “Gorgeous,” Chloe said.

  “It really is.”

  They leaned against each other, taking it all in. But in the quiet, Chloe’s mind began to churn, her thoughts turning to Riley.

  What had he seen? Or who had he seen?

  Riley had a nose for trouble, and she didn’t doubt he’d been poking into something he was suspicious about and stumbled onto something dangerous. But what?

  And when will Jack or I do the same thing? She didn’t want to think about Jack being in danger. But they both knew the culprit was still around. If the resort truly wasn’t safe, after so many bad events, maybe the company should consider closing up until the police got it all straight and the real culprit was outed. Then again, that would mean the loss of so many jobs. And likely doom the resort. It was an inescapable conclusion, though, that given the circumstances and the access the culprit would have needed, it had to be someone who worked there. The resort had a lot of staff. A lot of people who could benefit from an extra monthly payday from Kingsford, or whoever, for throwing a wrench—or wrenches—into Bartholomew Hotels, Inc.’s plans.

  But murder? Who would be willing to do that?

  The attack on Riley was obviously intentional. But what if Nate’s murder hadn’t been planned. Maybe it had been an accident of sorts, an argument that got out of control. Blows exchanged—

  Or what if Nate was involved? What if he hadn’t been the innocent victim they’d all believed him to be?

  That realization struck her like lightning, sending vibrations all the way to her toes. Surely the police had considered that already.

  “It’s getting dark,” Jack said, interrupting her before she could explore that thought trail. “We should probably head in.” It had started snowing again.

  “Can we stay a little longer? Maybe walk toward the woods?” she asked, inclining her head toward the woods on the southern side of the property behind the pergola. She needed time to work things out, and a walk seemed the best way to clear a path through her muddled brain. “Deidre said the owls start talking once the sun goes down. I’d love to hear them.”

  Jack stood and extended his hand. “Well, come on then. If my wife wants owls, then she’s gonna get owls.”

  They made their way to the first trail head they spotted, marked with a small red square nailed into a tree. Clasping Jack’s hand, she stepped beyond the tree line into the woods. It was dark, the lights from the house and garden lampposts the only illumination, essentially just backlighting their passage. Jack pulled out his phone, switched on the flashlight, and held it up. “Wow, it gets dark in here quickly once the sun goes down.”

  She drove a shoulder into his playfully and felt the beginning of a grin on her face. “You scared? You worried about the ghost of Lily Stone coming to get you?”

  “No, but I am worried about getting lost. Or stumbling across the maniac who stabbed Riley.”

  A whoosh of concern flooded her, and she cut her eyes at him.

  He brought the flashlight up, casting a glow on her face. “I didn’t mean that. I don’t think we’ll see anything more from that person now that they think they’ve gotten away with it.”

  She nodded. “We’ll just walk a little bit. There’s a stone bench a little further in that I saw on one of the trail maps.”

  They continued, their boots crunching in the snow until they came to the bench. They sat down, huddling against one another.

  “Jack, let me ask you something.” She shared her theory about Nate.

  “I don’t know. He would have had access to everything necessary to plant the evidence framing Deidre, but there isn’t anything linking him to it. Plus, he was dead when Riley was stabbed.”

  “I thought of that, but what if it wasn’t just him? What if he had an accomplice and they had a falling out?”

  “It’s an argument. We’ll pass it along to Li, see if he can make anything out of it.”

  “Okay, good.”

  The snow was really coming down now. She took a deep breath, then exhaled, counting to five as her breath appeared as a stream of white in the light cast by Jack’s phone. Somewhere above them, a bird cawed. It didn’t sound quite like an owl, but she looked up, trying to find it but seeing nothing.

  “You’re a good sport,” she told him. “If we don’t hear any owls in fifteen minutes, we can head back to the house with plenty of time to get ready.”

  “You looking forward to the ball tonight?”

  She shrugged. “I am. And the unveiling of the exhibit. But it’s a little weird trying to enjoy it with Riley in the hospital. Knowing he’s going to be okay helps.”

  “He would want us to go and have a great time and tell him all about it. Riley would never want to be someone’s excuse for spoiling a good time.”

  “Yeah. He would hate that more than getting stabbed.”

  “No doubt,” Jack answered.

  A crack sounded behind them, its echo seeming to bounce off the trees. Chloe’s head snapped around.

  Was that a branch falling? Or some wild animal stepping on one as it moved through the woods?

  Jack shone the light in that direction. “What was that?” he whispered.

  “No idea,” she whispered back, clutching his arm. “What do you think?”

  “Animal maybe?” Jack asked.

  “Maybe a branch fell?”

  He heaved a breath. “I don’t think so. Too loud. And the crack was too low to the ground.”

  Crack!

  The sound came from behind them again, and this time they both shot up off the bench and turned, Jack swinging the light in the direction of the noise.

  The wind was picking up, the snow blowing almost horizontally, causing the ends of Chloe’s hair protruding from her hat to blow across her face. She pulled the strands back, spying a flash of movement through the trees of something short and white.

  Jack grabbed her hand, and they took off running, the
light from his phone bouncing unhelpfully as they left the path. They were making so much noise themselves that it was impossible to hear whatever they were chasing. But Jack’s beam continued to illuminate blips of a form between the trees, and he turned on the speed, her hand slipping from his.

  “Jack!” she shouted, pulling her own phone out, its light bursting in front of her. That brief pause caused her to lose him, though she could see some of his footprints in the snow, interrupted by logs or the zig-zag pattern he’d taken between the trees and thick brush.

  “Jack!”

  She heard a faint, “Here!” and thought it sounded like he wasn’t too far ahead. Suddenly, the woods opened before her into a small clearing where Jack stood between Molly and Ben Prater, one of his gloved hands clapped on each of the children’s shoulders.

  37

  Chloe crouched in front of the kids. “What are you doing out here, guys?” Again she pulled her hair back, keeping it from whipping her in the face.

  The children stared at her mutely, offering nothing but worried eyes and dour expressions. They matched each other in their white coats and hats, their gloved hands holding onto one another tightly.

  They’re scared.

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” she said. “It’s okay. We just want to know what you’re doing out here in the dark in this weather. Your parents will be worried sick.”

  “They said the police took Deidre away.” Molly’s mumbled words were barely audible in the howling wind. Chloe didn’t fail to notice that she had used the familiar “Deidre” rather than “Ms. Nolan.”

  “Were you friends with Deidre?” she asked.

  Molly nodded. Ben’s fingers flexed, squeezing Molly’s harder.

  “It’s okay,” Chloe said. “We’re friends with her too. Are you worried about her?”

  “She’s nice to Molly and me,” Ben said, his voice an empty monotone.

  He doesn’t want to share anything.

  “She’s nice to us too,” Chloe replied. “You know what, I don’t think you’ve met my husband. This is Jack.”

  He came around to face the children, also squatting at their level. “Hi, guys. Sorry if I scared you.”

  “Jack, this is Molly and Ben Prater.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ben,” Jack said, first extending a hand to the boy, who eyed it suspiciously before shaking it. “And you, Molly.” The little girl stuck her hand out at the same time Jack did, and with a muffled chuckle, he shook hers. The children immediately clasped hands again.

  “So,” Jack said, “you want to tell us why you’re out here?” When they didn’t say anything, he directed his next words to Ben. “You know, I don’t like talking to people I don’t know well either. And you’re pretty smart, not wanting to talk to strangers. After all, you barely know Chloe and you just met me. That’s a good decision.” Ben’s posture straightened a bit, his shoulders dropping. Jack’s praise had hit its target. “I can see you’re serious about taking care of your sister.”

  “I am,” Ben replied. “I had to come out here after her.”

  “Well,” Jack said, “right now, the best way you can take care of her is to get her out of this storm and back inside where it’s warm. And then we need to figure out why she came out here in the first place so it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Deidre’s a nice lady,” Molly said quickly. “She always gives me chocolate when I visit the big house, and I know she’s a good person, and Mommy and Daddy said the police took her to jail. They said it has something to do with the treasure.” The words poured out of the little girl in a torrent as she ignored Ben’s sharp looks and jerking on her hand, clearly meant to silence her.

  “She is a nice lady,” Jack said. “And your parents are right. But we hope the police will decide that Deidre didn’t do anything wrong and send her back. Right now, we just have to wait and see.”

  “But what if they don’t?” Molly whined, tears starting to form in her eyes. “What if they decide to come after other nice people that live here that have been looking for the treasure.” Molly’s eyes found Chloe’s and held her gaze, her lip trembling.

  Chloe broke the connection and looked at Ben. For once, his posture wasn’t defensive. Instead he had angled his body toward Chloe, hovering. Waiting.

  Oh.

  “Are you scared the police might come looking for other…nice children who might have been doing that?” Chloe asked.

  The brows of both children rose simultaneously.

  Bingo.

  Jack patted Chloe’s back, which she took to mean he understood what was going on here.

  “Guys, they won’t do that,” Chloe said. “I promise.”

  “She’s right,” Jack said, locking eyes with Ben. “You and your sister are not in any danger from the police. No one is coming after you for looking for the treasure. And that isn’t why Deidre’s with the police anyway.”

  “It’s not?” Ben asked, his stance relaxing slightly.

  Jack shook his head.

  “Molly thought the police would take us. She ran away, and I came after her.”

  Jack put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. Chloe wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the boy’s eyes glisten.

  “Ben, you’re very brave. Molly is blessed to have a brother like you, one who takes care of her.”

  “He’s only four minutes older,” Molly mumbled.

  Chloe said, “I’m sure you take care of Ben, too. Right, Molly?”

  She nodded. “I make his cereal all the time.”

  “Exactly,” Chloe said.

  “So what do you guys think we should do right now?” Jack asked.

  Fleeting surprise passed across Ben’s visage. An adult asking for his opinion was apparently unusual.

  Smart move, Jack. Way to win him over.

  After a few moments, Ben said, “We should get back home.”

  Jack nodded. “I agree. What about you, Chloe?”

  “Yep, I’m with Ben. Do you know where your parents are?”

  “They’re at the stable, getting ready for the ball tonight. They’ve got some horse-drawn sleighs to set up.”

  “All right, then—”

  “But we’re supposed to be in the house,” Ben said. “Can we go back there?”

  Jack looked at Chloe. She shrugged. At the moment the important thing was getting them out of the cold.

  “Home it is then, Ben,” Jack said.

  A hint of a cautious smile appeared on Ben’s face, but he tugged on Molly’s hand. “Come on,” he said, then turned and started back in the direction of the marked path.

  Chloe and Jack delivered the children to their cottage without incident but stopped by the stable to speak to the Praters, who were busy hitching horses to two sleighs. They were made of wood, painted black with gold curlicues on the sides, adorned with bells and a brass railing along the front.

  “These are beautiful,” Chloe said as they approached the Praters. “You’re taking guests out in these tonight?”

  Greg nodded. “I am. Vanessa’s off soon.” He grinned. “You want to be the first? Give it a trial run?”

  But Greg’s smile quickly disappeared, he and Vanessa donning matching frowns as Jack and Chloe related what had just happened with the kids. Jack responded to their gushing apologies by holding a hand up.

  “Please stop. It’s fine.”

  “It’s just,” Vanessa started, “with the cottage being so close to the stables, we recently thought we’d try letting them stay there instead of having to hole up in the stable office when we’re both on duty. But obviously that’s not going to work.”

  After another round of hearty thanks from both parents, Vanessa headed to the cottage to collect the kids, promising they would be staying in the stable office until she was done for the night. Jack and Chloe left Greg to his work, the sleigh bells jangling in the background as they headed out into the snow.

  Once back inside the mansion, a magnet-like pull drew Chloe to the exhibit w
hen they reached the top of the grand staircase. She turned to Jack, who was already eyeing her skeptically. “I just want to glance at the exhibit one more time.”

  “Chloe, it’s ready. I saw it. It’s perfect.”

  “Yeah…but, I’ll just feel better.”

  “All right, come on,” Jack said, taking her hand, leading her to the curtains. “But you’re not going alone.” He parted the curtains around the exhibit. “I know I’m probably being overcautious—”

  His last words were choked off. Standing beside one of the glass cases was the footman, Martin. Directly in front of him, atop the case, was the chess board and pieces once kept in Harold Stone’s study. Martin spun toward them, guilt splashed across his face. Chloe’s eyes went to the glass dome that covered the board, currently in Martin’s hands. Without a word, he returned it to its spot over the board.

  “Martin?” Chloe asked. “What are you doing? No one’s supposed to be in here until the unveiling tonight.”

  “Just…curious. Everyone’s talking about it.” His face was stony.

  She cocked her head. “You shouldn’t be touching that.”

  “Sorry. I’m a game person. I just wanted to touch some of the pieces, you know? It’s just so cool that the people that used to live here actually played with it.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jack said, not an ounce of belief in his tone.

  Martin slipped past them, moving toward the exit. “I’ll, uh, get back to it then.”

  “Why don’t you do that,” Jack quipped, stepping into the entryway after Martin went through it, holding his position for several seconds. Finally he turned back to Chloe. “He’s gone.”

  “You think he was telling the truth?”

  Jack shrugged. “I can’t imagine he was planning on anything nefarious this time of day.”