Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (31 page)

T
he Loveless books are here, but I can’t allow you to see them without Mr. Hampton’s approval.” Ms. Carter wasn’t the dragon today, more like a little Chihuahua that had lost its bark, but still guarding the home front.

“I suggest you get in touch with him and do it now.” Jason’s hard stance made the woman squirm.

The legal assistant puffed up her shoulders and pursed her lips. “I am under strict orders not to disturb him on his much needed vacation.”

“My clients have the right to see the books; they are legally theirs.” Mr. Larry Thompson, Jason’s attorney, fifty pounds overweight, puffy cheeks and balding, had the demeanor of a bulldog and wasn’t backing down. “Call your boss immediately. Tell him we are here to collect the books. Otherwise … I’ll leave here and come back with a court order.”

Ms. Carter looked nervously about then back at Mr. Thompson. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll see if I can reach Mr. Hampton.” She turned, entered a room, shutting the door behind her.

“If Hampton doesn’t give her permission, I’ll go see Judge Henley. He owes me a few favors.” Mr. Thompson moved to one of the leather chairs and sat down.

Jason followed his example, but BJ wandered over to Ms. Carter’s desk, her eyes searching the surface, looking for what, she wasn’t sure. She saw it … a folder labeled travel itinerary. Opening the file she saw Horace T.’s name. She didn’t hesitate. Her hand snatched the folder.

BJ rushed down the hall, lifted the lid to the copier, and slapped the first sheet down on the glass, shooting a nervous glance over her shoulder, her finger depressing the button. BJ knew this might be the only way to locate Horace T. She exchanged the sheet on the glass, shut the lid and pressed copy again.

She hurried back to Ms. Carter’s desk, slipped the folder back in place, moving over by Jason as the door opened and Dragon Lady came back into the room. BJ’s heart tapped triple time as she crammed the copies into her purse before turning and facing the secretary.

Both men rose from their chairs. Mr. Thompson’s attention on Ms. Carter, Jason’s on BJ before she pivoted in the direction of the secretary.

  “I couldn’t reach Mr. Hampton, and I will not release the books without his approval.” The starch was back in her manner.

Mr. Thompson turned toward the door and shot over his shoulder. “Then I’ll see you later with a court order.”

Outside, all three stopped near Mr. Thompson’s Cadillac.

“What did you find?” The lawyer’s eyes nailed BJ.

Mr. Thompson would be a hard adversary to come up against in court. His eyes didn’t miss a thing. She dug out the crumpled sheets, smoothing them. “Just Horace T.’s travel plans. And he didn’t go to Missouri as Ms. Carter said.” She handed them to the attorney. “Try Morocco.”

“Humph!” His eyes sparkled as he chuckled. “You’ve got yourself quite a little woman here, Jason.” He scanned the sheets. “Have you ever thought about going into the PI business? I could use someone with your skills.”

“No thanks. I’ve had enough of covert operations to last me a lifetime. I figure I would be caught by the dragon.”

“This changes things.” Mr. Thompson looked over the itinerary. “If my memory serves me right, Morocco doesn’t look kindly on extradition to the US. But before we jump to conclusions, we need to take a look at those books.”

“Will the itinerary help?” BJ didn’t like the sound of this.

He folded the papers, sliding them into his coat pocket. “Oh, these will go a long way in getting Elliott—Judge Henley—to sign the order. And we need those books. A man doesn’t go to Morocco on short notice unless he’s trying to hide something. I’m afraid this doesn’t look good.”

True to his word, court order in hand, at two o’clock Mr. Thompson met BJ and Jason at Hampton’s office.

A flustered Ms. Carter read the order before she moved to the wall behind her desk to depress the paneling. The oak wall opened and revealed recessed shelves from top to bottom, filled with ledgers and files.

“Mr. Hampton will not be pleased at all that you are here demanding to see the estate books.” The woman gave a huff, then handed several ledgers to Jason.

“How many books are there?” Jason allowed Ms. Carter to pile a few more journals into his open arms.

“Depends on how far you want to go back. These journals date back to Seth Loveless.”

Jason displayed a puzzled frown. “Aren’t any of the accounts on computer?”

“No. Mr. Hampton didn’t like computers. He said he’d rather continue as his father, everything in writing and at his fingertips. I’ve tried to persuade him, but he was adamant.” She huffed again pulling more ledgers off the shelf. “I have given you the most recent years. Will that do?”

“All the journals during Madelyne’s time will do for now.” Jason shifted the load in his arms.

“By the way, where did you say Mr. Hampton went?” BJ grabbed the last batch the assistant had pulled, watching the woman closely.

“I didn’t. But if you must know, he’s vacationing in the Bahamas.” A smug expression rode her face.

“Alone?” BJ cocked her brow.

Ms. Carter’s arrogance dissolved like a puff of smoke in the wind. “Yes.” Her reply not convincing.

“Have you made plans to take a vacation?” Mr. Thompson rounded on the woman, getting up close.

BJ watched the color drain from Ms. Carter’s face.

“No. No plans at all.”

J
ason.” Breathless, BJ entered the library. The object of her search looked up from the scattered papers on the library desk.

“Hi.” Jason rose and met her halfway, enclosing her in his arms, dipping his hair toward hers.

BJ leaned into his embrace, raising her chin for the anticipated kiss. She melted, almost forgetting why she had sought out Jason in the first place. She pulled back. “That isn’t why I came searching for you.” She gave him an impish grin and another quick kiss to soften the blow to his ego.

She pulled away out of his reach before she completely forgot why she had come, then moved to the wingback and sat down.

“I’m hurt.” He feigned a wounded look. “Didn’t know I had lost my appeal so soon.” He moved back to the chair he had vacated. “All right, spill.”

 “Well, you’ll never guess who took a vacation the same day Horace T. did but no one knows where.”

“I’m all ears.” He leaned in, sitting his elbows on the desktop.

“Ms. Blackthorn.”

“The headmistress at Heritage?”

“One and the same. I have it on good authority. It’s here in this vacation schedule she left behind.” BJ held out a folded sheet of paper toward Jason. When she saw his raised brow, she continued. “She called her assistant the very same day Mr. Hampton mysteriously flew out of town, and said she would be taking leave for a few weeks and to give this to me the next time I came in, which was today.”

“That’s strange. Nothing more?”

BJ shook her head.

Jason’s face puzzled. “Didn’t happen to mention anything to her assistant like why or where?”

 “Afraid not. In fact, Mary, the second in command, said this was quite unusual for Ms. Blackthorn. Her vacations are always well planned months in advance.”

“Doesn’t sound good. Surely you don’t think they had something going on between them, do you?”

BJ gave it some thought. “From the way Ms. Carter looked and acted, I thought Horace T. and his assistant were having a fling, and he had just upped and left her behind. Maybe she suspected something.”

Jason’s brows furrowed in thought. He gathered the scattered papers on the desk rather roughly before moving to where BJ sat. “Speaking of Horace T.” He held the stack out to her.

By his hardened features, BJ knew the matter was serious. She looked at the papers. “What am I looking at?”

Jason leaned against the edge of the desk, his arms across his chest. “Financials. I just received them, and it isn’t a pretty picture.” He paused. “The report shows over one hundred million missing from the estate. Pretty much drained all the money from the banks.”

Her throat constricted as she tried to make sense of it all. “No! You’ve got to be kidding.” She knew he wasn’t. Cradling the papers in her lap, her eyes scanned the report. The money wasn’t important to her except for what it could accomplish. She had found what she was looking for ... Jason.

Her heart plummeted. “The Heritage account also?’

“Afraid so.” Jason’s hand went to his back, kneading his shoulders and neck just above the spine. He grimaced. At first he wouldn’t look at her. When he did, she knew he wanted to shield her. “I don’t want you to worry, but you have the right to know.”

“How bad is it … really?”

Jason moved the footstool over in front of her, sat down, then leaned his elbows on his knees, taking her hands in his. They both glanced down at their entwined fingers. He lifted hers, placed a light kiss on the tips, before lowering her hand

He breathed in deeply before looking her in the eyes. “All the money has been carefully moved to offshore banks over the past ten years. One thing that can be said about Hampton, he was thorough but careful. He worked diligently to avoid suspicion. His devious plan only worked because Aunt Maddy trusted the man implicitly.”

“But Jace, remember what Ms. Carter said. She did the books. Wouldn’t she know something about moving funds—maybe where the money can be found?”

 “It sure seems so. But again, maybe not. If Hampton truly wanted to hide money, the fewer to know about where, the better. But it might be worth a try to have Robbie question her. With his interrogation skills, she just might let something slip. I’ll mention it to him.”

“So where does that leave the estate in the way of money or assets?” BJ didn’t want to think about how this might affect Heritage or her after-school program.

“Not as good as it could be. But I’m sure Hampton didn’t want to arouse suspicion by selling off stocks and bonds, or other assets. At present time—” Jason reached over, turning pages in the report until he found a page then pointed. “—we have considerably less than what was originally thought. We can liquidate some of the stocks, sell some of the holdings, and we’ll still be in good shape, but just half the original size we thought the estate would be.”

BJ considered everything she knew and some of what she surmised. “I think Ms. Carter knows more than she’s letting on. The way she acted when I asked her about any trip she might be taking, she almost looked dejected. Do you think she had a thing for Horace T. and he threw her over for Ms. Blackthorn?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an affair took place between the boss and the assistant. It could be how Hampton got her to look the other way.”

B
J stood at her studio window. The descending darkness caused a glare on the glass and mirrored her image. To see what might have made the noise seconds ago—impossible. Rational thought told her the sound was nothing more than the crepe myrtle’s branches scraping against the house. Her irrational side conjured up a madman standing outside watching, waiting.

 She strained to listen again, but heard nothing. Apprehensive, she drew the curtains and returned to the book she’d left on the love seat.

Jumping at shadows and noises, plain foolishness. Allowing the experience of the crypt to taint reason and dictate fear would achieve nothing. She had to stop imagining spooks around every corner, behind every bush. If not, she’d become a basket case in short order.

The quiet of the house brought about more unease. Thinking work might drive away the spooks, she moved to her art table. Dipping the watercolor brush first in water than cobalt blue, she swept the brush across the canvas of the Texas sunset of her little pond. Just because Jason had to attend a meeting tonight didn’t mean she wasn’t safe or that she couldn’t get along without him for a couple of hours. But telling and believing wasn’t quite the same thing. If only she could command her mind as easily as her brush.

A noise in the hall drew her attention, relieving her fears that she wasn’t alone.

“Sidney, is that you?” For once, glad he picked tonight to hover as he was prone to do when Jason was out of the house, she rushed to open the door.

Ms. Carter, standing in the hall and holding a purse tightly to her bosom, stepped back. The woman who stood before her was disheveled and harried looking, not at all in keeping with the fictitious, not-a-hair-out-of-place Ms. Carter. Her wild, almost calculating gaze combed over BJ, then swept the room. Seemingly satisfied, she narrowed her eyes penning BJ with her stare.

 “Ms. Carter?” BJ gave a glance past the woman for Sidney but didn’t see him. “Come in, please.”

Horace T.’s assistant gave BJ a vacant stare, the smile on her face made her look unhinged. She moved stiffly past BJ. She stopped in the middle of the room, turned, giving BJ a crazed look.

Instead of closing the door, BJ left it ajar hoping Sidney would be close on the woman’s heels. She motioned Ms. Carter toward a chair. “Please be seated.”

Face enraged, eyes bulging, Ms. Carter pulled her hand out of the handbag. Clutched tightly in her shaky grip a gun waved and bobbed in BJ’s direction.

BJ stepped back, her art table stopping her retreat. The watercolor brush fell from her hand as she stood frozen in place, her heart pounding violently in her chest.

The unbalanced woman advanced closer, the gun pointed straight at BJ’s heart.

She frantically prayed for words to reach and soothe Ms. Carter’s deranged mind.

Neck veins bulging, cheeks aflame, Ms. Carter took a menacing step toward BJ then stopped short of reaching distance. “You’re the cause. You’re the reason he left me.
You!
” Spittle spewed from her lips as her hysterical screaming words filled the room.

BJ knew this wasn’t a game. Her insides quaked, knowing one false move could mean her death, and for why? Doubtful she would be able to get the woman to see reason, BJ, in calm, soothing voice said, “Ms. Carter, please put the gun down. Let’s talk. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m sure I can explain if you’ll give me a chance.”

Her mind worked feverishly, searching for a way to get the gun from Ms. Carter’s hand. BJ moved slowly to her left in the direction of her desk.

“Stand still or I’ll shoot you now."

The cold, unemotional words stopped BJ in her tracks.

The purse Ms. Carter clutched in her hand dropped to the floor. She grasped the gun with both hands. “Why didn’t you die in the crypt? He wouldn’t have left me if you had. And I wouldn’t have to take care of you myself.” She leveled the gun on BJ’s chest.

“Ms. Carter, I’m sorry. But I had nothing to do with whoever you’re talking about.” The woman’s loud, crazy laugh caused a chill to snake around BJ, cloaking her with fear.

“You don’t know.
Ha!
Of course you do. You ruined everything. I love him. I’m the one that helped him move the money offshore, me. I’m the one that exchanged the pills in your mother’s bottle.”

“You killed her?”

She let loose another hideous laugh. “Yes. When she learned what we’d been doing with her money for the last ten years, I had to kill her. It was easy. Just exchanged her pills. She was on borrowed time anyway. I just put her out of her misery.”

Surely, they didn’t.
“You killed my mother?” Would Madelyne have contacted her if she’d lived? BJ would have liked to think so.

Ms. Carter’s cackle drew BJ’s attention back to the immediate danger. “I can see by your face, you didn’t think I knew about your mother’s
little indiscretion
did you? But I did and I kept her secret, afraid you’d find out. I had my suspicions when she funded your college and backed your studio and those nasty street kids you tutor.”

“Madelyne … my benefactor?” BJ’s brain scrambled to make sense of what Ms. Carter was talking about.

 “Who else would have given her bastard child thousands of dollars in support?” A deranged laugh filled the room as the woman sneered, venom in her words. “And you come here all high and mighty. Why didn’t you just leave town and not come back? You don’t deserve all this.”

The gun waved wildly around the room, then swung back to BJ’s chest. “I’m the one that hired the dimwit that couldn’t bring himself to kill you. Me!” She thumped her chest with her finger. Her confident smile sickened BJ.

“The stupid man. Had his head turned by a pretty figure, couldn’t keep his mind on the job of getting rid of you. Men are all alike. Fickle fools all of them.” Her eyes were filled with hate. “The stupid chief couldn’t even be relied on. He gave me Spade’s name and number, said he’d run you out of town but here you are.”

“Please, Ms. Carter—”

“I waited ’til Jason left. I stood outside watching you. You looked straight at me and didn’t see me. I knew tonight I had to finish what that no-good weakling started. That’s the only way Horace will come back … when you’re gone. When you’re out of the way, everything will be as before. You came here and ruined it all.”

A moan came from the hall. Ms. Carter’s head jerked toward the door.

BJ charged the woman, ramming her shoulder full strength into Ms. Carter’s midsection. The force knocked both women to the floor. The gun flew from Ms. Carter’s hand. Her fingers swiped across BJ’s cheek tearing skin, drawing blood.

The woman scampered from beneath BJ, clawing for the gun, latched her hand tightly to the grip, stood, and aimed. BJ lunged again at her assailant. With demented strength, the woman slung BJ off without losing the weapon. BJ came at her, gripping her arm, forcing the gun downward. Wrestling for control of the weapon, they fell to the ground, rolled, and the gun fired.