Friends and Lovers Trilogy 03 - Seduced (29 page)

“Any further signs that those cowboys are tracking her?”

“No.” Joe rolled back tense shoulders. “If it weren’t for that bloody shoe and Sofia’s conviction, I’d have to wonder if they weren’t a figment of her imagination. I know Creed’s wondering. We’ve got an honest to God mystery on our hands, Murph.”

“Got one of those here ourselves.”

Steering one handed, Joe shifted and accelerated onto the highway while Murphy explained how he and Jake had spent the afternoon inspecting the bed and breakfast property.

“Someone tampered with this place. The wiring. The plumbing. There’s a storm door on the back side of the house, a passageway leading down to the basement. No lock. They might be getting in that way. Last night they mangled a gutter while vandalizing the satellite dish.”

“They who?”

“I have no idea. But someone’s messing with Gallow’s head. He thinks Hollyberry Inn’s haunted.”

Joe grunted. “It has to be someone with a personal grudge. Maybe the neighbors aren’t thrilled about having a gay B&B owner in their backyard.”

Murphy chuckled. “Most of his neighbors
are
gay.”

“Hmm. Okay. Business grudge, maybe? Someone trying to run off the competition?”

“Maybe. The thought did cross my mind. Jake and I are heading over to a tavern down the road to pick up some wine for dinner. We’ll ask around. See what we can find out.”

“What’s Gallow got to say about the rigged wiring?”

“He doesn’t know yet. He took Legrand and the women into town to do some shopping. They should be back shortly.”

“Does Lulu know anything about the mess her sister’s in?”

Murphy cleared his throat. “No. I was holding out until we knew more.”

“Creed issued an APB on Cavendish. It’s only a matter of time before this case busts wide open and leaks to the press.”

“I’ll have a talk with Lulu tonight. Bernard Cavendish. Christ. I hope Sofia’s prepared.”

“A scandal. I know.” Exactly what she didn’t want. She was in for a rough few weeks. Maybe months. Depending on how this all affected her work. “Listen, Murph, that job you mentioned, is it still open?”

“Absolutely. You want it?”

“Thinking about it. Just so you know, I might be relocating to LA.”

“Huh.”

Joe raised a brow. “You’re smiling, aren’t you?”

“Hell, yeah. Welcome back to the living, bro.”

“This is crazy.” Rudy checked his watch. “It’s been twenty minutes. JP said ten minutes, no more.”

Afia shifted in her seat, wiped beads of sweat from her pert, little nose. “Maybe the checkout line is long.”

“There is no checkout line. You pay the individual vendor.”

She shifted again, rubbed her stomach.

Rudy angled his head. “Are you sure you feel okay?”

“I’m fine. Just uncomfortable. You’d be uncomfortable, too, if you had someone inside of you squirming and kicking.”

Images from the movie
Alien
flashed through his mind. He shuddered. “I can’t imagine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Men.”

“Speaking of, if I don’t get you home soon, Jake’s going to call, again. He’s already checked in twice.” He opened his car door. “I’m going to go find JP and Lulu.”

“I’ll come with you. Maybe if I stretch …” She shoved open her door, winced.

Rudy blanched. “What’s wrong?’

“Nothing. Just a cramp. Will you stop? You’re as bad as Jake.”

“No one’s as bad as Jake,” he mumbled as he circled the car and helped Afia to her feet. He took it slow and they moved back into to the main hub of activity.

“I don’t see them,” she said, sounding worried.

Neither did Rudy. Concern twisted his gut when he noticed an excited cluster of people hovering near the table where he’d last seen Jean-Pierre. Someone shouted for a doctor. He put his arm around Afia and practically carried her toward the ruckus. He elbowed his way in, swearing when he saw Jean-Pierre sitting on the ground, pale as a sheet, face covered with sweat. “What happened?”

“Someone broke his arm,” the lady behind him said. “I think someone already called for help.”

“I did,” another man said. “Paramedics are on their way.”

Rudy shifted so that he was sitting behind Jean-Pierre and holding him steady, while trying to keep an eye on Afia who also looked as though she were in pain. Although, maybe, hopefully, she was just upset. “Someone broke your arm on purpose?” he asked Jean-Pierre.

The man weakly nodded. “It happened so fast. I decided I wanted the salt and pepper set, so I came back here while Lulu made her purchases. It was so crowded. I did not think anything of it when someone pressed up against me from behind. But then he whispered in my ear, ‘
This is for my brother
.’ He grabbed my arm, twisted. Snap. Crunch. The pain was excruciating. I think I blacked out.”

Rudy scanned the surrounding people. “Did anyone see this happen?”

Everyone shook their heads no.

“I’m calling Jake.” Afia pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “Where’s Lulu?”

Jean-Pierre cradled his arm, licked dry lips. “Four rows over.”

Afia whirled. “I don’t see her. I don’t see her anywhere!”

Rudy was torn between comforting his partner and best friend. “Afia, honey, don’t get upset.”

“I can’t get a signal.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t …” She dropped the phone and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Oh, God.”

She doubled over just as the paramedics pushed though. Their gazes bounced from Afia to Jean-Pierre. “Who are we here for?”

“Both of them,” Rudy said as he scrambled for his own cell phone.

Sofia folded her arms across her chest and tucked her hands beneath her pits so as not to gnaw her fingernails. Nervous energy had her pacing back and forth across the small motel room. At this rate, she’d soon wear a visible path in the dingy brown Berber carpet. She glanced toward the pressed-wood desk and eyed her phone. She’d plugged it in to recharge, but she hadn’t turned it on. She didn’t have the energy to endure her publicist’s media updates or her agent’s insistence that she make a decision on the “Spy Girl” contract.

She was in the middle of a real life crisis.

Bone chilling apprehension had kept her from falling asleep, even though the visit to Cavendish’s house had been emotionally exhausting. After checking them into an inconspicuous motel near the airport, Joe had left to handle business. He’d instructed her to lock the door behind him and not to leave, or to let anyone in the room under any circumstances.

She’d witnessed a crime. She could send those cowboys to prison for life. No wonder they’d tracked her to LA. They wanted to silence her. Permanently. Instead, they’d found Luc.

She shook off the guilt. His death was tragic, but it wasn’t her fault. Put the blame where it belongs, she told herself. On the cowboys. Focus on the cowboys.

Funny, how she still thought of them in that stereotypical category, but a more vivid description eluded her. Everything had happened so fast, and the tussle in the backyard had taken place in complete darkness except for a smattering of moonlight. She’d never gotten a good hard look at either of the men’s faces. Truth told, she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure she could identify them in a line-up. What stuck out in her mind was their attire. Blue jeans. Denim jackets. Cowboy hats.

Still, obviously they thought she could ID them or they wouldn’t be going to so much trouble to track her down. They had to be wondering why she hadn’t gone to the cops with her story. If she had, the Hollywood icon’s death would have been all over the news. Again, she wondered about Cavendish’s body. She wondered about a lot of things. Like, why no one had reported the man missing. And why those cowboys had been in the house to begin with. It could have been an attempted burglary. The house was loaded with artwork, and probably a safe or strongbox containing jewelry and cash. Cavendish had seemed surprised that someone was on property. Maybe he’d interrupted the pair. But then, why wouldn’t they have just tied him up, or otherwise incapacitated him? That way, they could have still burgled the house and gotten away. Why complicate things with murder?

Sofia paused at the window and peeked through the curtain. What was taking Joe so long? What if she’d somehow unwittingly gotten him in trouble with Special Agent Creed? Not that Joe couldn’t handle himself, but she hated to think that she’d complicated his life by making him an accessory to a crime. He’d provided Creed with a gun, a bloodied shoe. Was he breaking the law by not turning an eyewitness over to the authorities?

She worried her bottom lip and searched the moderate traffic for his Jeep. An uglier thought occurred. For the past two days his picture had been splashed all over television, compliments of that damned front desk clerk and her own publicist. She and Joe were a hot item. The fantasy cable spy and a real life government agent. What if the cowboys had been following the gossip shows? What if they’d staked out the Phoenix Field Office? What if they’d followed Joe?

She strode to the desk and powered on her cell. She needed to hear his voice. If anything happened to him she’d never forgive herself. But, her phone chimed before she could punch in his number. She checked the incoming number. Lulu. She was tempted to ignore it, but the need to connect to something good just now was overwhelming. “Hi, squirt. How’s things in boonie-ville?”

“Looking up,” came an unfamiliar male voice. “I’ve been trying to connect with you for a good hour, Sofia.”

“Who is this?”

“You broke my nose.”

“I …”

“And my brother’s hand. We’ve got some unfinished business.”

She detected an accent. Southwestern. Texas.
Cowboy
. Disgust and anger overrode all fear. “You shot Bernard Cavendish in the face and then you tried to shoot me. You broke into my apartment and killed another defenseless man, and you’re whining because of a few busted bones?”

“I left you three messages,” he said, ignoring her question. “Why didn’t you call me back?”

“I haven’t listened to my messages.” Holy hell, what did he want? She balled her free hand into a fist, tamped down the panic. “How did you get my sister’s phone?”

“She threw it at me.” He snorted his amusement. “Luckily for us, she’s not a trained fighter like you. Although if looks could kill, me and Jesse would be pushing up daisies.”

Her blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?” Lulu was in Vermont. He had to be bluffing. How could he possibly know about Rainbow Ridge?

She flashed on the note she’d taped to the fridge for Jean-Pierre.
See you in Vermont
. Her skin prickled with dread.

“That journal of yours, the one you keep hidden in your nightstand? That was some real interesting reading. By the way, we didn’t kill gay-boy. The pansy fainted and hit his head. At first, I thought he was your friend, Jean-Pierre. Course, I noticed the difference right off when we finally met up.”

“If you hurt Jean-Pierre …”

“Oops. Too late.” He laughed. “Squealed like a sissy when I snapped his arm.”

She pressed fingertips to her throbbing temples.
This is real. This is happening. I will annihilate your ass.

“I don’t know why you haven’t gone to the cops, but I appreciate it, sugar. So much so, that I haven’t hurt your little sister. Yet.”

The obvious threat had an adverse effect. Instead of falling apart, Sofia rallied. This was no longer about her. This was about family. “What do you want?”

“For starters, I want you to hop the next plane to Burlington, Vermont. Bring your phone and call me on your sister’s cell when you arrive. Reception sucks up here. If you don’t get me, leave a message. I’ll call you with further instructions. Oh, and Sofia, come alone. I see hide or hair of your fed boyfriend or any other tagalongs, I’m going to go to work on your sister.”

“I want to talk to her, you son of a bitch, or I’m not going anywhere.” But she was already checking her purse for the emergency cash and credit card she’d swiped from her apartment.

“Figured.”

She heard jostling, then a groggy mumble. “Sofie?”

Her heart pounded. “Lulu? Are you all right? You sound funny.”

“Just tired. Can’t focus. Bad men. Don’t come. Don’t …”