Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (13 page)

F
rom the dark shadows, he cursed O’Connell’s appearance and his impromptu interference in the little game he wanted to play with Goldilocks. Oh, yes, he knew the name of the man who was bound to interfere with his plans for the little lady.

 Leaning against the same tree O’Connell had recently vacated, he pulled out a cigarette and watched them stroll up the small knoll to the patio. The handoff of the tripod from O’Connell to BJ took place. He anticipated more, but when O’Connell headed off to his end of the mansion and BJ through the patio door, he felt just a little better than before. Only then did he light a match and set it next to the tip of his cigarette allowing the flame to catch with a deep indrawn breath.

He released a large bellow of smoke and squinted through the haze into the darkness toward the windows of the mansion. He knew she’d head straight to her office, but didn’t know if she’d stay there or go to her bedroom suite.

He took a drag on his cigarette, pulling it deep into his lungs, allowing the fire to dissipate before releasing the smoke.

A good thing O’Connell showed up when he did. Otherwise the guy would have caught him with Goldilocks in his arms, pulling her up close, smelling her perfume, her warm body, before scarring her within an inch of her life.

More expletives filled the night air. If he wasn’t careful, this woman could become an obsession. He didn’t dare give vent to his wants. This was a job, nothing more.

Careful to stay in the black shadows and picking the well-known path parallel to the house, he headed toward the side gate of the estate. His eyes darted back and forth to the house and around the grounds.

Nah, that wouldn’t have been good if O’Connell caught me … not good for any of them. Would’ve caused more problems than bargained for. BJ … a pleasure. O’Connell … trouble.

Sloppy work tonight. And that wasn’t like him. But he knew why. Goldilocks. She was definitely a distraction. Otherwise, O’Connell couldn’t have slipped up on him so easily.

This won’t happen again. His attraction to the woman wouldn’t divert him from his purpose. She’d be alone next time. He’d make for certain. Couldn’t afford his cover blown. Just a little more time watching her, toying with her, then he’d get it over with.

One quick glance around, he slid through the gate where he’d removed the lock. The gate closed without a sound. When he knew no one could hear him, he whistled a tune. The walk down the hill didn’t take any time before he angled off the road onto the dirt path. Hidden behind tall shrubs and trees he climbed into his truck.

When the engine purred to life, he thought of his prey and smiled.

M
artha, thanks for the breakfast.”

The housekeeper and Sidney stopped talking and turned to look at BJ as she entered the kitchen.

“You’re welcome. Is there something special you’d like for lunch?”

“No. You won’t need to fix lunch or supper for me tonight. I won’t be back until quite late.”

 “Would you like to take a lunch with you? I have a cooler and ice packs. I could send along some cold drinks and water too.” Martha looked at her expectantly.

“That would be nice, but don’t make a big fuss. I’ll gather my things then pick up the cooler before I leave. Can you have it ready in about fifteen minutes?”

“Certainly.” Martha began bustling around the kitchen, gathering things together.

Sidney set down his cup on the breakfast bar and moved off the stool. “I’ll pull your car around front.” He retrieved the extra set of keys from the drawer. “May I help you carry out your equipment?”

“That would be great. Meet me in my studio … say five minutes?”

“Will do.”

BJ rushed upstairs filled her backpack with what she needed.  When she reached her studio, Sidney was there waiting.

“Oh, sorry to keep you. It won’t take me long to gather my equipment.”

“Don’t rush on my account. May I?” Sidney gestured at her photos and paintings on the walls and tables.

“Help yourself.”

“You do very nice work.”

“Thank you. Some of those photos you might recognize. I took them the first day I moved into The Rose. And those just last night.” She pointed over at the table.

“Yes, I do recognize this one of the lake. And this is off the path a bit by the weeping willow. I go there often.” He continued his perusal of her photos and the studio.

“The grounds are a great place to photograph. Especially when you get off the manicured trails.” BJ shoved her camera in the case. “But today I’m going to branch out a bit. Check out the countryside and see what I can find of interest.”

 She grabbed extra batteries and memory chips, stuffed them into the side pockets of her camera bag before looking about the room for anything she might have missed.

Sidney stood by her desk, his fingers trailing over the top of her wooden music box, sliding over the smoother lacquered surface.

“Unusual, isn’t it? I’ve always loved the color. So different.”

Sidney flushed, dropped his hand to his side, then stepped away as though he’d been caught. “I’m sorry. I—”

“That’s all right. I don’t mind.” BJ moved over by him.

“It’s unusual. I don’t mean to be impertinent, but do you mind if I ask you where you got the box?”

“The box, along with this locket—” Her fingers pulled out the gold chain hanging around her neck from beneath her shirt. “—were left on the orphanage steps, along with me. Probably came from a relative, or at least that’s what I was told by the ones at Heritage House.” BJ shrugged, tucking heart-shaped necklace back inside her shirt, then reached past Sidney to open the lid.

Music filled the room with
To Dream the Impossible Dream
. “The tune is an old one, but it’s one of my favorites.” She smiled up at Sidney and found an odd, almost painful expression, very near one of shock.

“Is there something wrong? Are you feeling ill?” BJ touched his arm. The tune continued to play in the background but began to wind down, getting slower and slower.

Sidney, in a stupor, shook his head. When he glanced at her, he smiled and looked normal again. “No. I’m quite well. Thank you.”

“Why don’t you sit down for a moment? I can take these things to the car.” BJ motioned to the overstuffed chair in the corner by the window, the one she liked to curl up in when she got tired or needed to step back from her work.

His unsteady hand shut the lid with care, cutting off the tune in midstream. Again, his fingers moved gently, almost caressingly, across the lid. Lowering his hand, he stepped back, embarrassed.

“It’s lovely. Did they tell you who left the music box?” He didn’t look at BJ, but moved to her bag and gripped the handle.

“The box was with me when I arrived at the orphanage. Probably from a relative, maybe an aunt or cousin, could have even been my mother, I can’t be sure.” BJ didn’t want to believe a mother could leave something so lovely while deserting her baby. “I’m very fond of the box, though. In fact, when I left Serenity, way back when, this was one of the few things I took with me. Sentimental probably.”

“I see.” He nodded his head, moving toward the door.

“I have fond memories as a little girl, winding the key, dancing around my room, playing make-believe. Sometimes I’d pretend I was a ballerina, other times a fairy princess and nothing could …” She stopped. Talking so candidly to a man she barely knew just wasn’t like her. “Oh, forgive me. I’m ready.”

BJ hurriedly gathered her things. Sidney followed her out the door. When she got to her car, she found the lunch cooler already sitting in the front on the floor, her county map on the passenger seat beside her, and a frosted water bottle in her cup holder. And Sidney stood by ready to shut her door.

“Thanks for your help.” She slid inside the Jeep.

“You’re welcome.” He returned the smile, but something still seemed odd about how he stared at her. “Have a safe trip.”

After making the half-circle drive, she glanced back. Sidney stood, unmoving, just watching.
Odd.

With no particular destination in mind, BJ drove out of the estate grounds and hooked a right wanting to explore the country around Serenity. Who was she kidding? Her system couldn’t withstand another encounter with Jason like last night.

With the move and all, she had cleared her calendar. Next week was a different story. She’d be back on a schedule with very little time to spare for which she’d be thankful.

The decision to go to Fielder’s Pond where she, Jace, and their friends used to go swimming seemed a likely choice to take pictures. She wondered if she could find her way out to the old watering hole.

A couple of wrong roads, a U-turn or two, and one dead-end had her GPS practically calling her stupid. These were roads she should have known without difficulty, but they were challenging her patience. She topped a hill and found the spot she was looking for … Fielder’s Pond.

Smaller than she remembered, but still just as beautiful, the limestone cliff with its natural spring spilling over the rocks and falling to the water below, produced a smile and many fond memories. She marveled that as a teen she’d had the nerve to climb to the top of the cliff and jump into the spring fed water fifteen feet below. One rare occasion she managed to sink her feet into the soft sandy bottom in the depths of the small pond.

 Looking at the deserted spot, she wondered if kids came here to swim. Did they sit on the ledge or venture into the shallow cave behind the veil of water? Were hers and Jason’s names still scratched into the rock wall of the cave?

Turning off the road onto another, the caliche dust kicked up a plume of white soft powder that trailed behind her Jeep. She slowed down when she saw a five foot pipe gate closing off the entrance to Fielder’s Pond.

“This is new, or at least not here fourteen years ago. Now what do I do?”

Stopping her car a few feet short of the gate, she turned the motor off and waited for the dust to settle. The fine white powder showered her car, making the black color turn a dusty grey. When the air finally cleared, BJ climbed out of the Jeep. She took special care as she stepped on the pipes of the cattle guard. Weak in the knees and a wobbly feeling in her stomach, BJ almost reconsidered her choice. Even as a teen she had never liked walking over cattle guards. The two-foot crevice below the steel pipes looked more like a deep canyon.

Lifting the heavy-duty padlock, she tested to see if it was truly locked. It was. She could understand why when she climbed the bottom pipe of the gate and got a better look. A herd of regal Texas longhorns stood grazing on the tall green grass several hundred feet away. Among the cattle were the cutest baby calves next to their mothers. Their modeled coloration of browns and blacks with patches of white had BJ itching for her camera.

Determined not to be denied, she retrieved her equipment from the back of the car. She gingerly stepped on the pipes of the cattle guard again before painstakingly shoving her equipment through the bars onto the ground. Next, she crawled through the two-foot span of pipes.

Picking up her tripod, her camera around her neck, BJ climbed the small knoll, careful not to disturb the cattle. She found a spot beneath a shady gnarled oak tree a little ways from the beautiful animals. With stealth movements, she arranged her tripod and camera then stepped behind, her eye searching through the viewfinder for the perfect angle.

The majestic longhorns cooperated. They ignored her, though she stood within easy charging distance. With each click, her Nikon captured the pastoral scene. Several young calves suckled from their mothers. The herd grazed as one lone bull stood off to the side giving BJ a hard stare. Slowly the cattle moved changing positions.

BJ took several shots from different angles, moving about cautiously, getting closer to the grand sire of the herd. His regal longhorns spanned three feet on each side of his head, curling up and out perfectly. His coloration was magnificent with patches of dark reddish-brown, tans, and white. One of the most beautiful specimens of longhorns BJ had ever encountered … obliviously painted by a master.

She angled around to the side, as the old fellow followed her movements with his head. She continued to shift around until she had a side rear view of the handsome Casanova. The herd grazing on rolling hills behind the regal stud, the background of white clouds in the cobalt sky gave the photo the look of tranquility she had longed for.

The bull turned toward her and pawed the ground once, let out a bellow.

BJ had second thoughts of being in his direct path. Hoping and praying the bull wouldn’t take it upon himself to chase her out of the pasture. She took a few more shots before capping the lens, not wanting to anger the big fellow.

Doing her best to calm her anxious heartbeats, BJ muttered under her breath. “Just stand there, old boy. I’m outta here. You can turn your attention to your lady friends.”