by D. L. Wood
From Greg’s left, a figure shot out of the darkness, colliding with him with a grunt and knocking him to the ground. Greg lay on his back, lashing out with his one free hand, but his punches fell short of their target. The figure, straddling Greg’s torso, grabbed Greg’s wrists, twisted them out and down, causing Greg to drop the laptop which slid off his chest and into the snow just as the detectives caught up to them.
Detective Riggs grabbed the laptop and dusted it off while Detective Yarbrough whipped out a pair of handcuffs. He read Greg his rights as Jack jumped off him, pulled Greg to his feet and turned him around for the detective.
Because she and Jack had gone straight from the ball to the hospital, Jack still wore his tuxedo. The result was that he pulled off the entire stunt looking every bit the part of James Bond. He grinned as he swiveled toward the cottage, his gaze meeting Chloe’s.
Jack Bartholomew for another save, she thought, pride blossoming in her chest.
42
Chloe and Jack slept until almost noon on New Year’s Day, having not gotten back to their room until nearly four in the morning. For lunch, they skipped the enormous hotel buffet celebrating the holiday and instead ordered room service. They didn’t even consider leaving until the early afternoon, when they decided they had better go visit Riley before the entire day disappeared.
They were halfway down the gravel drive, passing the first reflective pool, when Chloe looked back and saw the stable in the distance. A sinking feeling took hold of her, and she laid a hand on Jack’s.
“I think I should go visit Vanessa,” she said. “I can’t imagine what she’s feeling.”
Detective Yarbrough had interviewed Vanessa first thing after arresting her husband, and the general consensus, backed up by Greg Prater, no less, was that Vanessa had known nothing about what he’d done and wasn’t involved in any way. Of course, the police would need the evidence to bear that out, but at the moment, it seemed to be the truth.
“I don’t know,” Jack said, his tone uncertain.
“It’ll be fine. And I want to see Molly and Ben and make sure they’re okay. Maybe I can take them for a little while and give Vanessa a break. She might need one. I doubt she’s had a moment to herself. I can catch up with you at the hospital later.”
Finally nodding, he executed a three-point turn and headed back toward the groundskeeper’s cottage.
Vanessa sat on the couch, her head in her hands. “I just don’t understand,” she said, her voice warbling. She looked up, her eyes red and bleary, then reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table. She blew into it and crumpled it in her hands as her gaze found Chloe’s. They sat beside one another on the couch, Vanessa with a fleece blanket pulled around her. “How could he have done this? All of it? Nate?” she cried, tears dripping again, which she wiped away with the same tissue. “And your friend?”
“Riley’s going to be okay,” Chloe said, trying to offer comfort. But she knew what it felt like to be betrayed by someone you trusted. By the person you trusted most in the world. Her twin brother, Tate, had done that to her, and it wasn’t something you ever truly got over. You learned to live with it. To move on. But the sting never really went away.
“They’ve taken everything—his laptop, our desktop, his cell phone, some files he had stashed in the back, and a bunch of his clothing. They even pulled out something from under the house and wouldn’t tell me what it was. They made me sit here while they went through everything we own.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Vanessa.”
Vanessa shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize to me. He did this to your family’s business. I can’t even believe you’re here.”
“I just thought you might need a friend right now. Or a sounding board. Someone to vent to, at the very least.”
“I feel like such an idiot. I had no idea. Not about any of it. Detective Yarbrough said he thinks Greg is the one behind the sabotage? How could I not have realized that?”
“We don’t always know the people we love as well as we think we do,” Chloe answered, sad that she knew the truth of that more than most.
“When we came here, he never said a word about having a connection to the place, but Detective Yarbrough said that might be true? That you’d been looking into it?”
“I have.” She explained why she’d decided to look into Will Rader’s classmates. “Greg’s name came up as one of the living descendants of Jonas Flint. Did he ever mention that name to you?”
Vanessa shook her head. “But you think that’s why he brought us here? Because he knows something about the treasure? That maybe his great-grandfather, or whatever, was this accomplice? Because you know, we’ve been here nearly two and a half years now, and he hasn’t found it.” Her eyes widened, and her body tensed. “Or…as far as I know…You don’t think he found it and didn’t tell me, do you?”
Chloe shook her head. “He wouldn’t still be here if he had. Has Detective Yarbrough said anything to you about it?”
“No,” Vanessa said, sniffling. “I haven’t heard anything. I know Greg asked for a lawyer, so hopefully I’ll hear something from him soon. They said I can’t visit him yet. I’m not even sure I want to after what he’s putting me and the kids through.”
“How are the kids?” Chloe asked, her heart melting at the thought of what it must be like for them, having their father carted away by the police. She hoped they had slept through it all.
“They’re okay. I’ve told them that Daddy may have made some mistakes and that he’s talking to the police and trying to make everything right. They wanted to ask more questions, but I just couldn’t decide how to tell them more without worrying them. They’re in their rooms. I told them to stay there for the day. Just for today. Just to give me time to figure out what to do.”
“I could take them for a little while—an hour or two, or however long—to help you? Give you a moment—”
“No. Thank you, though.” She pressed a hand to Chloe’s arm before pulling it back quickly. “I need them close to me.”
“I understand. But let me know if that changes, okay? Or if there’s anything else I can do?”
“You coming by has helped. I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Chloe said. “Jack talked to his father and he said that there’s no problem with the kids being seen on the property, especially outdoors. I don’t know who told you they had to stay hidden, but you don’t need to worry about that anymore.”
Vanessa sniffed. “Oh, wow. Okay. That’s great. Thanks.”
“I’ll be praying for you. All of you,” Chloe said as she stood to leave.
“You think it’ll make a difference?” Vanessa asked, dabbing at her eye as she rose too.
“I do. I really do.” Chloe heaved a breath. “I don’t always understand the answers—I can’t say I always like them—but I’m always more at peace knowing I’ve turned the outcome over to God. It lifts a lot of the weight off my shoulders when the burden is heavy.”
Vanessa smiled weakly. “Maybe that’s what I need to do, then.”
“Don’t hesitate to call if I can do anything, okay?” Chloe urged. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
43
RILEY
The pain in Riley’s chest burned. He depressed the button on the self-administering pain medication pump, releasing another dose of morphine into his system. He wasn’t a huge fan of pain medication in general, and tried to use it sparingly, but even he had given in on this one. Besides, Deidre was there, and he didn’t want to have to fight through the pain to give her his full attention.
How she could look so good after spending two days in jail was a mystery, but there she was, looking as if she’d just walked off a model runway. She had told him that Prater was talking, and the first thing her lawyer had done was secure her release. And she had come to see him straightaway.
Hadn’t even gone home first.
The thought mad
e the corners of his mouth shoot up. She wasn’t just gorgeous. She was kind and thoughtful and for some reason beyond reason, seemed to care about him.
“What are you grinning at?” she asked from the chair beside his bed.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Riley smoothed the thin sheet around him. “Just happy to be alive.”
“Happy to be alive, huh?” Jack asked. “I don’t remember you grinning like that when Chloe and I showed up last night.” He stood in the doorway wearing a wry smirk. Riley quickly recognized it as the one Jack used when he knew he had Riley right where he wanted him.
“Don’t know what to tell you, brother,” Riley said, wishing he was a little closer so he could slap that smirk right off.
“Mm-hmm,” Jack mumbled skeptically.
Riley suppressed his own smile because the last thing he wanted was to give Jack the satisfaction. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and go find us some coffee, Bartholomew?”
Jack pointed at his chest. “You mean make myself useful like I did last night when I took out the guy who stabbed you?” A look of mock-realization creased Jack’s features. “Wait—does that mean I bested the guy who got the best of you?”
“Best of me? I was operating at three percent when he managed to stick me.”
“You were at three percent because he rang your bell twice before that.”
Jack had him, and Riley knew it. He’d been arrogant that night. He hadn’t asked for help and hadn’t watched his six, and he’d paid the price. Jack wasn’t going to let him forget it. Just like he never would have let Jack forget it if the situation had been reversed. But that didn’t mean he was going to admit it.
“Go. Find. Coffee,” Riley grumbled, his voice low.
Jack sighed victoriously, then gave Riley a two-fingered salute before disappearing out the door.
“Good riddance,” Riley groused.
“He loves you like a brother. From what I hear, he’s been here every day.”
“Yeah, he’s hard to get rid of.”
“So,” Deidre said, leaning an elbow on Riley’s bed to prop up her chin. “When are they letting you out of here?”
“A week, the doc says. If all looks good.”
“And then what? Back to Miami?”
Riley shrugged. “Suppose so. I should probably check in at work, and my dog-sitter won’t want to keep Charlie indefinitely.” The truth was that he rarely worked at the high-end garage he owned. He had done well enough to hire staff to handle it all. He could probably camp out in New York for a month without any problem. Charlie, his beagle, on the other hand, was a different matter. The sitter might not mind, but Riley already missed his four-legged buddy too much. An extended vacation could work though. Especially if that meant seeing more of Deidre.
“I might see my way to sticking around a little longer. I couldn’t keep the room at Stonehall, though. It’s a bit rich for my blood when it’s not on Jack’s dime.”
“I’ve already been informed by the head of the company—”
“That would be Jack’s dad?”
“—who would be Mr. Bartholomew, Jack’s dad, yes, that you’ve got a room for as long as you want it. There’s a spare suite on the employee’s residence floor that we haven’t assigned yet. It’s yours.”
“I couldn’t take that for free. A couple of days is one thing, but—”
“Don’t think of it as taking it for free. Think of it as taking it as payment for getting stabbed on the property while you were trying to ensure there wasn’t an intentional gas leak responsible for injuring or killing our guests.”
“Well…” He shrugged. “When you put it that way…”
“And hey, in all seriousness, my lawyer told me that Mr. Bartholomew mentioned having you come on board as head of security.”
“What?”
“Jack didn’t tell you?”
Riley snorted good-naturedly. “Bet he was saving that for you to share.”
“Well, you should think about it. It’s great pay, board and lodging and”—she grinned, one corner of her mouth going up, her cheeks turning red—“there are other things here.”
Riley’s gut did a little roller-coaster drop. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
“Like what?” he asked, eyeing her skeptically.
“Like maybe…I might be sticking around too.”
“I thought you were only here long enough to get the hotel going. I hear the New Year’s Eve Ball was a hit. I figured you’d be moving on to the next project.”
She nodded. “That was the plan. But I don’t know…I’ve worked so hard on this one. And we lost a lot making it happen. I’m invested here. Thinking about leaving…it doesn’t feel right.”
“So you’re considering staying on as manager? Permanently?”
She slowly nodded. “I think so. I think it’s time I put some roots down.”
“Hmm,” Riley said. It was a crazy notion. Moving up here, to Upstate New York of all places? On a whim no less, just following the suggestion without real thought, like a horse led by a carrot.
A beautiful, vivacious, irresistible carrot.
Although, Deidre wasn’t his only consideration. He couldn’t deny that the idea of change appealed to him immensely. Life had grown stagnant in Miami. He loved challenge and struggle and, frankly, the opportunity to use his military-days skill set. A job in security would provide that.
I can keep the garage. It brings in good money, and it’ll still be there for me, in case things don’t work out.
But looking at the woman in front of him—with her perfect skin and gravity-defying lashes and a heart that seemed to put others before itself—he was betting that wouldn’t be their story. He wasn’t exactly sure how it was going to play out, but the one thing he definitely knew was that he wanted to find out.
“I’d have to say, personally being on the receiving end of its failures, your present security program does stink abysmally.”
“That it does,” Deidre replied, and he could tell she was working very hard to hide a smile.
“It’s gonna need a lot of upgrades.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“But there’s one thing I need to know.” He injected as much gravity into his tone as he could. “It’s a deal-breaker.”
“Salary? I’m sure we can work that out.”
Riley shook his head. “I need to know if Stonehall Estate is going to be okay with having a resident beagle.”
44
CHLOE
Jack returned to Stonehall in the late afternoon, and shortly after that, Chloe found herself in Deidre’s office with Jack and Deidre’s lawyer. This time the mood was infinitely more cheerful. Mr. Li’s update was intended to bring Jack, as representative of Bartholomew Hotels, up to speed on the general progress of the legal matters. Deidre had also instructed Li to educate both Chloe and Jack on the specifics of her case, including everything he had learned from the authorities about the case being made against Greg Prater. Though coffee had been brought by room service, it was growing cooler by the minute as Li rattled away.
Chloe held her room-temperature mug in her hands, reclining into the wingback chair as she tried to digest all the information Li was sharing.
“…wasn’t long before Prater started talking once they got him to the station. The amount of evidence piling up rattled him even before they got into his laptop and cell. If he hadn’t run, if he’d stayed put, I’m not sure they would have had enough to get a warrant for the search, but running like that with the laptop…Greg Prater is no mastermind.”
“He framed Deidre well enough,” Jack retorted.
“True. But he was a little too confident in that. He didn’t even try to hide incriminating files on his computer or texts between him and a cell phone number the police are currently chasing down. Prater says it belongs to Kingsford, or at least, to one of his people. And there was enough on the laptop to prove that the bank accounts and email accounts that look
ed like they belonged to Deidre actually were set up by Prater. He admitted to having access to her computer and was able to plant what he needed.”
“How did he manage that?” Chloe asked.
“We were right about the two-hour window. The settings on both her personal and company laptop were like that so, over time, Greg found opportunities to access them when she walked away or got distracted. He had months to do it and planned on framing her, if the need arose. He wanted a Plan B in place, in case things heated up too much or anyone started pointing a finger at him.”
“And the money? The payments it looked like Deidre had been receiving?”
“Greg was being paid by Kingsford. It started about two months after the renovation began. It was an inside job, just like Nate Lewis thought. Each month Greg transferred a small portion of what he was being paid into the account he ultimately used to frame Deidre, just in case he needed someone else to take the fall.”
“Are they arresting Kingsford?”
“They are. It’ll take a bit of work to trace it all back to him, as he used a middleman for everything. But they’ll get there in the end. Especially with Greg spilling his guts in exchange for a deal.”
“You said he transferred a small portion of what he was being paid? But that was five thousand a month for a year. Sixty grand,” Chloe pointed out.
Li nodded.
“Then what was Prater getting from Kingsford?”
“In exchange for wreaking havoc and delaying the opening as long as possible, Greg says Kingsford was paying him twenty grand a month.”
“That’s…nearly a quarter of a million over the last year?” Chloe said, hearing the disbelief in her own voice. “I don’t get it. The resort would have opened eventually. Was a delay worth that much?”