Stranger's Game

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Stranger's Game Page 13

by Colleen Coble


  “I don’t know what that means,” Hailey said.

  “It’s hard to understand even for adults. But evil things happen to all of us, honey. Hard things, bad things. We don’t understand, and a lot of the time, we can’t understand because we aren’t God. When those times come—and they come to everyone—all we can do is trust that God loves us.”

  Hailey absorbed the words. “Okay.”

  That was it—okay? Oh to be like a child and be able to accept. Torie wasn’t good at it. Maybe she never would be.

  Hailey waved wildly toward a blonde entering the hotel. “Grammy!” She darted off to throw her arms around the woman.

  Joe’s mother’s smile faltered as she came toward them. “Well, hello.” Her gaze took in her son. “I heard the news. You’re okay?”

  He nodded. “I’m fine, Mom. Hailey can’t wait for the sleepover.”

  “Your dad is parked outside.” Her quizzical look landed back on Torie, and she held out her hand. “I’m Joe’s mom, Carol.”

  Torie took her hand. “Torie Berg. I work here at the hotel, and your son has been kind enough to befriend me.”

  The older woman’s smile widened. “Nice to meet you, Torie. I hope we see more of you.” She released Torie’s hand, then turned her granddaughter toward the door. “Let’s go, kiddo. See you tomorrow, Joe. I’ll have her back around noon.”

  Joe grinned as his mother walked away. “See that spring in her step? She’s been nagging me to date for over a year.”

  Torie tucked her hand into the crook of Joe’s arm. “Let’s get some dinner. I’m starved.”

  She should have made it clear she and Joe were just friends.

  Chapter 19

  She didn’t want to go in.

  Torie stared at the door and then at the key in her shaking hand.

  Joe took the key from her. “Let me check it out first.”

  She let him open the door and step inside while she waited in the hall. At dinner she’d gotten a text from her dad that the suite had been cleared by the police and cleaned. She knew he had lit a fire under some people to get it done. She should have known her dad would make sure she wasn’t tempted to stay at the cottage tonight.

  Lights came on in the suite, and she heard Joe opening doors and rummaging through the two rooms before he reappeared in the doorway. “All clear.”

  “Thank you. Want to come in? I can order up dessert.”

  Joe glanced at his feet for a moment. “After the day I had, I’m about asleep on my feet so I’d better get home.”

  The pang of disappointment surprised her. “I understand. We’re still on for diving?”

  “Yeah. I thought we’d go to the HLHA.”

  She’d heard of the artificial reef. It was supposed to be awesome diving. “Sounds great. I’ll see you in the morning.” She gave him a nod good-bye, then slipped into her room.

  She locked the dead bolt and the chain, then checked out the suite for herself. All clear. The scent of new carpet erased the memory of the smell of blood from the night before. She went to the connecting door and opened it, but her dad’s side was closed.

  She tapped on it. “Hello?” When he didn’t answer, she tapped again. Were there voices on the other side? She probably should have texted him first. Maybe Matthew was there, and he was the last person she wanted to talk to again.

  The door swung open, and Torie took a step back when she saw her aunt’s angry face. The voices had been the television. Her dad was nowhere to be found. Had Aunt Genevieve waited for her to show up like a spider lurking in its own web?

  It was all going to come out now. It had to.

  “You’re fired. I suspected it last night after I heard about this door being open. I won’t have Anton being taken advantage of by some little twit who fancies herself as the next Bergstrom.”

  “I don’t think so. You don’t have the authority to fire me.”

  Her aunt’s eyes widened. “If you think Anton will be able to save your job, you’re quite mistaken. He lets me run this hotel as I see fit. Once you’re gone, he’ll forget all about you. Pack your things and get out.”

  “I’m already a Bergstrom. I’m Victoria, Anton’s daughter. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize your own niece, Aunt Genevieve.”

  Her aunt went white and swayed. Torie grabbed her arm to steady her, but she shook it off.

  “You’re lying,” her aunt whispered.

  “Look at me. Do you honestly not see the family resemblance? I look so much like Mom, at least that’s what Dad says. And do you really think my father is so weak that he’d be dallying with a woman my age? You don’t think much of him, do you?”

  Her aunt brushed past her and went to drop into the armchair by the fireplace. “This is an outrage! Why are you here under false pretenses?” She picked up a travel magazine and fanned herself with it. Her color still hadn’t come back.

  How much of the truth should she spill? Torie followed her aunt and sat across from her on the love seat. “Lisbeth Nelson.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She was my best friend. If you think back hard enough, you would recognize her name. We played together every summer, and she was my roommate at boarding school and later at college. Her death rocked me, and I wanted to find out what happened.”

  Her aunt’s hazel eyes narrowed. “She drowned herself. Everyone knows it, so I fail to see how it was worth all this subterfuge. All this lying to your own aunt!”

  Torie should have known her aunt would react this way. “I’ve never known Lisbeth to be depressed, and I know for sure she would never go in the water. She was terrified of the ocean. I have to find out the truth.”

  She didn’t want her aunt to know that Lisbeth was here to find out what happened to Torie’s mother, though it might come to that eventually. Torie would need to ask her aunt questions at some point. But not tonight when she was already tired and upset from Bella’s death.

  “Do you have any idea why Bella would have been in my suite last night?”

  Her aunt’s mouth gaped. “You think Bella’s death had something to do with your ridiculous quest? It was nothing of the kind. I sent her up here to leave a fruit basket. Anton made me feel guilty about the way I’d treated you, and I wanted to make amends. How ridiculous now that I know. Why didn’t you tell me straight up who you were? This spy stuff makes no sense.”

  Torie could hardly tell her she trusted no one who worked here—not even her aunt. “The fewer people who knew, the more I thought I’d be able to get answers. If employees knew I was a Bergstrom, they might clam up and not tell me any suspicions they had.”

  “I see.” Her aunt heaved a sigh. “That makes sense, I suppose.” She looked around the room. “Now I understand why Anton insisted you have this room.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Eating a late dinner with Matthew Cunningham.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is Matthew here to see you too?”

  “No. He had no idea I was here.”

  Her aunt rose and went past her, leaving a lingering scent of lavender. “I’ll have to digest all this. I must say I’m disappointed in you, Victoria. Good night.”

  Not half as disappointed as Torie was at knowing her cover was blown and it would be doubly hard to get to the bottom of Lisbeth’s death.

  * * *

  The last thing Torie wanted to do after the confrontation with her aunt was go to sleep.

  She smacked her pillow into a better shape and lay staring at the dark ceiling. Her mind spun like lights from a disco ball. Her aunt would never keep this quiet, and everything would change. By this time tomorrow all of the hotel staff would know she was Victoria Bergstrom, heir to the massive Bergstrom Hospitality empire. They’d wonder why she was here under false pretenses, and she wouldn’t be able to tell them, not really. It was something much too private to bandy around in a gossip session.

  And Joe. He didn’t know she’d been lying to him all this time either.

  She roll
ed to her side and thumped the pillow again.

  Her dad had tried to tell her this had been a stupid idea in the first place. She was no detective and her computer knowledge wasn’t enough to get to the bottom of Lisbeth’s death. Now she’d messed up her friendship with Joe. He wouldn’t take kindly to the fact she’d hidden her identity from him.

  She glanced at the bedside clock. The numbers flipped to just after two, and she still wasn’t the least bit sleepy. It was much too late to call and talk to him too.

  She threw off the covers and slid her feet to the floor. There was unlikely to be anyone roaming the hallways this late. What if she went into her family’s former living quarters at the other end of the hall?

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she slid her feet into slippers and donned the robe at the foot of her bed. She had a master key that would let her in, and she rummaged in her handbag for it, then headed to the door.

  She paused at the sound of someone moving around in the next room. Her dad was up too? She pushed open the unlocked connecting door and poked her head into the living room. “Dad?”

  Fully clothed, he sat on the sofa. “What are you doing up?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.” She told him about the run-in with her aunt.

  “I’ll talk to her in the morning and tell her not to repeat it.”

  “I doubt she’ll listen.” She took a step into the room. “You mentioned our old living quarters are unoccupied. I’m going to go see them.”

  His blue eyes went wide. “For what purpose?”

  “I want to remember Mom. I want to find some closure. Eighteen years is long enough.”

  “Very well. I’ll go with you.”

  Torie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. The thought of going in there made the air stall in her lungs.

  Her dad didn’t give her a chance to refuse. He opened the door for her, and they stepped out into an empty hall. It was only when they were outside the door that she realized she should have gotten dressed in case her dad was successful in convincing Aunt Genevieve to keep quiet. It was too late now though. Security cameras would have captured her running the halls in her nightgown and robe with hotel owner Anton Bergstrom.

  Her slippers sank into the thick hall carpet, and she slowed her steps as the big wood door to the apartment neared. This had been her idea, but now her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. There was no reason for her claustrophobia to be acting up. The hall was well lit, and she didn’t feel trapped. But her lungs labored, and she wanted to run.

  She forced her lips to move. “I have a master key.”

  Her dad stood back while she unlocked the door. When she didn’t move forward, he reached past her and flipped on the light switches. With the shadows gone, she moved into the space. The bright illumination pushed back the darkness, revealing a room where nothing had changed in eighteen years. The same white sofa stood in the same spot near the fireplace. The gold armchairs showed no signs of wear. Even the vases with artificial flowers were in their spots on the mantel.

  “It’s like a time warp,” she whispered. “I can almost see Mom out on the balcony with a glass of wine. Why have you never updated it and rented it out?”

  “I couldn’t bring myself to have her things thrown out like so much flotsam.” Her dad’s voice sounded strained and off. “I could have rented it for two thousand a night, but the thought of someone living where we’d had so much happiness was more than I could stand.” He wandered across the thick white carpet to the fireplace to pick up a silver framed photograph of Torie playing Monopoly with him and her mom.

  She trailed after him and stared at the picture in his hand. They all looked impossibly happy. Her gap-toothed smile and innocent eyes had been a lifetime ago.

  Her dad put it back on the mantel. “This was taken the week before your mom died.”

  “I remember.”

  Her dad stared at her. “How much do you remember of that night?”

  “I was being a brat. I wanted her to take me swimming, and she had a headache. I stomped out into the hall.” She hadn’t talked about this in years. Those memories were too painful.

  “I-I heard a scream and ran back in. I couldn’t find her, and I went out onto the balcony. People were yelling, and I looked over the side. I recognized her red dress on the concrete below, and I hid in a closet. I don’t remember which one.”

  He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Torie.”

  Her cheeks were wet, though she didn’t remember crying. She swiped her face. “Lisbeth always said if I’d talk about it, I could get over it.”

  “The closet was in our room.”

  Her dad started in that direction, and she had no choice but to follow even though she wasn’t ready. Her feet felt wooden as she forced herself to step into the bedroom. A blue silk bedspread still covered the king bed, at least what you could see beneath the mound of pillows. She’d forgotten that detail—her mom loved pillows. The more the better. Torie had often made forts with them and hid from her parents.

  Her gaze went to the walk-in closet door, and she forced herself to step to it and turn the doorknob.

  She gasped at the scent of her mother’s perfume. The blouse she touched was silk. “What was the perfume she loved? I remember the smell but not the name.”

  “Clive Christian No. 1. She loved the jasmine and pineapple tones in it.”

  She caught the note of suffering in his voice, but a picture began to form in her head. A little girl crouched on the right side of the closet near all her mother’s shoes. She’d tried to hide in the shoeboxes.

  She tried to turn her attention back to her father, but it was a struggle. “I shouldn’t have let you come with me. This is hard for you.”

  “Cathartic too. And I’ve wanted to tell you that I’ve finally met someone. A lovely woman I think you’ll like. When we get back to Scottsdale, I’ll introduce you.”

  Her dad was finally moving on. Now if only Torie could.

  Chapter 20

  The scent of a storm in the air made Joe’s nose twitch, but the blue sky held only puffy clouds.

  The storm forecast wasn’t until midafternoon. Long enough to get down to the reef and enjoy a two-tank dive. The rental boat banged along on the choppy waves, but Joe knew where he was going and made a beeline for the yellow buoy. Once they were down there, the choppiness wouldn’t be a problem. It would be smooth going.

  He had to focus on the sea foam to avoid staring at Torie in her cute one-piece turquoise suit. Diving was his favorite pastime, and being able to share it with her was a dream come true. For just a moment last night when he was saying good-bye, he’d thought he saw a flash of longing in her eyes. Unless it was his imagination. He wouldn’t rule out that possibility.

  He throttled back the engine, then turned it off. “We’re here.” His text message notification went off, and he picked up his phone. “Oh no, Danielle says Simon got out of his enclosure.”

  “Do we need to go back?”

  The sea lion had gotten out a few times before, but he always came back. He’d been born in an enclosure so it was home.

  He shook his head. “He’ll come back on his own. I don’t want to miss our dive.”

  She moved to toss over the anchor. “I haven’t been diving in a year. I can’t wait.”

  “Need a refresher course?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve gone a million times. Or something like that.”

  Gosh, she was pretty with the sunlight gleaming on her dark-brown hair. She had her hair in a tighter braid than usual, which hung down her back. Her brown eyes glowed with anticipation. He’d like to think being with him had brought at least one little sparkle.

  After she stuffed her hair in her cap, he held out her buoyancy compensation device and helped her put it on. He might have taken his time just so he could smell her light scent a little while longer, but he wouldn’t admit it if she asked.

  While she adjusted her ma
sk and mouthpiece, he donned his own equipment. “I assume you usually dive with a buddy?”

  “Always. I wouldn’t want to be trapped down there without help. You use a buddy, don’t you?”

  “Yep.” He’d met a few hotshots who wouldn’t stay with their buddy, and it was way too dangerous. He gestured for her to get in, and once she fell back into the water, he did the same.

  The sea enveloped him in its warm embrace, and he took a moment to get his bearings before kicking down with her to the reef. The water was clear today, but it wouldn’t be after the storm. They were directly above the reef formed from the Jacksonville stadium, and the rubble from the structure had made the most natural-looking area of the HLHA. They spent their first tank examining the sea life. He found an octopus and played with it for a few minutes before she got up the courage to let him hand it to her. Its velvety texture made her smile.

  Her eyes were wide behind her mask, and bubbles escaped in a flurry when the octopus squirted ink. She let it go, and it zoomed off to its hiding space again.

  He pointed to the Edwin Nettleton, a WWII Liberty ship that formed part of the reef. She swam beside him, and he admired her kicks and strokes. She was a natural in the water. Maybe he could relax. He kept expecting her to have a problem, but she was a pro like she’d said.

  They reached the ship and swam around it for several minutes until she pointed to another area of the reef. The sunken sailboat was clearly outlined with coral, and it was one of his favorite places to dive. While she explored the colorful reef, he poked his head into the sailboat and looked around to get his bearings for when he needed to exit. Coral encrusted the interior of the boat as well, and he spotted the remains of the galley and head that beckoned for a closer inspection. He swam into the boat.

  Who had owned this old craft and allowed her to be scuttled for the reef? He’d likely never know. He touched the side of the window and saw a shape jet toward him. A man dressed in a black wet suit and wearing a black mask slapped a small device against the hull of the boat, then kicked away as a sleek sea lion barreled toward him.

 

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