by Elaine Meece
“If he checks out, we’re back at zero,” the PI said.
“Also, we want you to dig into Kayla Miller’s background. I doubt you’ll find anything other than she’s been a spoiled little rich girl.” Brice realized that fit Cynthia Conners too. His grandmother used to say, it was the pot calling the kettle black. “Any more on Uncle Hayden?”
“No. Nothing yet.”
♦♦♦
Libby wore her nicest dress and braided her hair in one long braid. She waited until after dinner to approach Joseph Hawkins. “May I read to you?”
He shook his head. “Why aren’t you helping in the kitchen?”
“It’s my night off.” She offered him a soft smile. “I need to ask you something.”
“Make it quick.”
“Do you think I can ride into town with you the next time you go?”
He frowned. “I won’t be taking you to town, because your aunt stirred up the FBI. They’ll be watching for you.”
Libby sighed. He had a good point. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to take her. She held out her foot and showed her old shoe. “I have holes in the bottom of both shoes. I heard you ordered Mary Ann new ones. Will you order me some? I wear a six.”
“Ask Edna to find you a pair in the discarded shoes. I’m sure there’s some sixes in there.”
“But those are old and used. Why can’t I have a new pair like Mary Ann?”
Rage showed on Hawkins’ face. He drew back his hand and slapped her hard.
Her ears rang, and her cheek stung like it had been split open.
Tears filled her eyes.
“You sound like a greedy little whore. Satan is filling you with jealousy and greed.”
He pulled her into the bedroom, and while Edna and some of his other wives held her, Hawkins slapped her bare backside with a leather strap.
She screamed and cried until her throat was raw.
Later that night, she recalled all the things her mother had said about these people and Hawkins. Guilt overwhelmed her when she thought of her mother being beaten by three of the elders. It had been Libby’s fault. She’d seen her mother in the garden the next day, barely able to stand, trying to pick beans.
Libby cried for herself and her mother. Her insides twisted with guilt and fear. She missed home. School. Friends. And pizza and candy.
The next morning, Libby sat at the far end from Hawkins. His wives and children filled two long tables.
He pinned her with a harsh look. “Young lady, you will clean out the barn and the stalls today as part of your punishment. You won’t stop for lunch. You’ll work until supper time. Understand?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Actually, Libby liked being in the barn around the horses. When they’d bring the enormous work horses in from the fields, she’d watch the boys ride them around the pasture behind the barn. Girls were forbidden to ride.
♦♦♦
Megan didn’t see Libby with Hawkins’ other wives who came to pick beans. Maybe he had agreed to take her to town or let her work in the house.
If so, Libby would idolize the man more.
Connie had been near Hawkins’ wives. She worked her way toward Megan. “Hot as hell out here. I can’t believe it’s not even nine O’clock.”
“It’ll be a long hot summer,” Megan replied.
Once Ruth walked away, Connie leaned closer to Megan. “Your daughter got the shit beat out of her last night for making demands and talking back to Hawkins.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“She’s being made to work in the barn all day. No food or water until supper.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’ll live. Hell, you did. And what you went through was much worse.”
Megan smiled. “Thanks for telling me.”
“There’s a group who helps women like us leave these places and start new lives.”
Being afraid Connie was setting her up, Megan rose and stretched, placing her right hand on her back. “You thinking about leaving?”
“Yes, I am. You and Libby should come with me.”
Megan shrugged and went back to picking beans. She didn’t know who she could trust.
Megan’s heart ached for her daughter. Hopefully, now Libby realized all of his other wives came first. She wasn’t the apple of his eye. Or the peach. Her daughter was more like a fig growing on the far side of the tree.
During lunch, Megan sliced some meatloaf and placed it on two slices of bread, grabbed an apple, and a jar of fresh water. She hid them in her bean bucket and walked toward the barn. She found Libby raking manure from a stall.
“I brought you something to eat.”
“You know what happens if you’re caught?” Libby said.
“I do, but I won’t let you work this hard without eating.”
Libby took the sandwich and gobbled it down, then stuck the apple in her pocket.
“Aren’t you going to eat it?”
Libby smiled. “I feed them to the horses.” She wrapped her arms around Megan and cried. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”
Mistrust overshadowed her daughter’s hug. Megan couldn’t relax and enjoy the warmth of Libby’s touch.
“I want to go home. I want to go to school and have friends. But we’ll never be able to leave here, will we?”
Again, Megan shrugged instead of answering.
“You don’t trust me, do you?”
Megan sighed. “Not completely. I wouldn’t survive another beating. It would kill me. Do you understand? I can’t risk trusting you.”
Libby nodded. “I swear on the holy Bible that I won’t betray you again or get you in trouble.”
“You can’t show any discontent. Am I clear? You must play along with them.”
Libby nodded, then hugged her mom. “I love you.”
Megan’s heart warmed.
Somehow, they would escape from Cactus Point.
A horse neighed.
Megan flinched thinking someone was coming.
“That’s just Trooper in the back stall.”
“Why isn’t he out working?” Megan glanced over at the enormous gelding.
“Trooper’s leg was swollen. They think a snake bit him. But it’s better.” Libby walked to the back stall. “Watch this.” She climbed up the side of the stall, then slipped one leg over the horse’s broad back and climbed on. “He’s so gentle.”
“Libby, get down before you get hurt or caught.”
“It’s not fair that only the boys get to ride.” She slid off, then fed Trooper the apple.
“I’d better get back before I’m missed. I love you, Libby.”
“Love you, Mom. Thanks for the food and water.”
Megan hurried back across the back field, down the path to Dan’s house, then set her bucket on the back porch and went inside.
To her surprise, she found Dan and Hawkins in her room, going through her few belongings. She knew exactly what they were looking for.
♦♦♦
Tuesday morning no sooner than Brice entered his office, Cynthia Reynolds called. “Unfortunately, we’re too late on the Tennessee property.”
“Did it go up for auction sooner than originally scheduled?”
“No, another company bought it out from under us.”
By the pissed off look on Cynthia’s face, Brice didn’t have to ask who had snatched the property up. “How in the hell, did she find out about it?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Cynthia stirred her coffee. “You and I were the only ones who knew.”
“Maybe it was a coincidence that she stumbled on the same property for sale.”
“I received an email from Kayla this morning.” She held her phone over. “Read it.”
Cynthia. I’m so glad you enjoyed the cookout. Tell Brice thanks for the tip on that property. I signed the contract yesterday. Great location for my new plant. By the way, I got it for eight million.
&
nbsp; Brice’s stomach balled into a knot, gagging him. He finally cleared his throat. “I didn’t tip her off. Other than the video I sent, I haven’t communicated with her.”
Cynthia’s eyes revealed her doubt.
“Look, my job is to keep this company at the top of the industry. Why would I ruin it?”
“You wouldn’t, unless you’ve decided to jump ship and join her.”
“I haven’t.”
“Then tell me how she knew about it.”
“I can’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought back on when they talked about it. “We discussed it on our way to Utah.”
“No one was with us but the children.”
“And Annie.”
Cynthia shook her head. “She’d never repeat anything she overhears on the job. Actually, there’s more.”
Brice’s stomach sank. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this. “What else happened?”
She unfolded the business section of the AJC. “Read this.”
He stared at a photograph of Kayla Miller with a robot that resembled Zurtel’s robots. The head had a slightly different shape and instead of white, it was gray. He read the headlines.
NOVIK INTRODUCES ATTA II.
ATTA II can operate an aircraft of any size better than a human pilot. This new autonomic invention was unveiled this week. Novik’s owner and CEO, Kayla Miller plans to have one in every jet in the U.S.
Cynthia’s face tightened. “It’s also in Forbes Magazine. I’ve canceled our cruise. I don’t feel I can leave the company with you. Not now.”
“I’m clueless as to how she obtained that information. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not working for her. Take my phone and laptop. Have them checked. I’ll give you permission to examine my bank accounts.”
Her face relaxed. “That’s not necessary.” She stood. “We have to be at Garner’s funeral at two this afternoon.”
“Have you heard anything about the toxicology report?”
“No, I haven’t. Since the funeral wasn’t postponed, I’d say nothing showed up. Would you like to ride with Tristen and me?”
Brice shook his head. “No, I’ll take my car.”
He left her office, then called his PI. “Anything on Kayla Miller?”
“Actually, I just completed the report. Want me to email it to you?”
“No rush. Anything out of the ordinary?”
“Yes.”
Brice paused a moment. “Like what?”
“At the age of eighteen, she attempted suicide. She ended up in a mental facility. It didn’t stop her from graduating from college Summa Cum Laude or winning the title as Miss Georgia.”
“I will say she’s beautiful. Any convictions?”
“None. Though she had been suspected of suffocating her grandmother, but they couldn’t prove it.”
“How old was she when that happened?”
“The grandmother or Kayla?”
“Kayla.”
“Twenty.”
“Why was she a suspect?”
“Her grandmother had been pushing her father to exclude her from his will and any of the family businesses. She wanted everything going to his nephew.”
“I’m surprised with her father’s money, that little tidbit was left in cyberspace for people to read.”
“It wasn’t. A cop friend of mine filled me in on it. I’d say Kayla Miller is a candidate for the looney bin.”
“You think she could be the one who called me in Utah?”
“Could’ve. I traced the call to a burner phone. I contacted the manufacturer to see what store and its location where it had been purchased, but the store didn’t have surveillance footage for the day it was sold.”
“I can’t imagine it being anyone else.” He mentioned the drone. “Next time, I’ll shoot it down.”
“If you can find it, bring it to me. I’ll trace its owner.”
That afternoon, Brice pulled up to the First Baptist Church of Atlanta in Dunwoody and made his way inside. People filled the large sanctuary. He spotted Cynthia and Tristen standing in the receiving line and joined them. An older man and a younger woman stood with them.
Brice wanted to tell Cynthia what he’d learned about Kayla, but this wasn’t the place to do it. He joined them and was introduced to Owen Reynolds and his wife, Lily.
Cynthia gave a brief nod of her head, motioning his attention to people in the line ahead of her.
Kayla Miller stood three people ahead of them.
He considered confronting her about the call, but didn’t want to make a scene.
Kayla glanced his way, smiled, and did a pinkie wave.
Brice frowned, hoping she’d take a hint and leave him alone.
Cynthia huffed. As they approached the front, she checked the tags on the flowers lined up along the front. “Dad, these are the ones Zurtel sent.”
“Nice. Damn, who sent that massive arrangement?” her dad asked.
“Look at all the roses it has,” Lily commented.
Cynthia flipped the small card over, “Sorry, for your loss, Kayla Miller/Novik Industries.”
“Impressive,” her dad said. “It makes the Zurtel arrangement look like a Mini Cooper parked next to a semi-truck.”
Cynthia’s face grew tight with anger.
“Just stay calm,” Tristen whispered. “Blowing your top here wouldn’t be wise for you or the company.”
“I want to strangle her.”
Tristen placed a hand on his wife’s arm. “The girls wouldn’t like visiting you in prison. Keep your cool.”
When Kayla reached the front, Garner’s daughter hugged her as if they were family or good friends.
Brice had a gut wrenching feeling about this. They seemed too chummy.
Owen Reynolds and Lily spoke briefly to Garner’s daughter before moving on.
As they stepped up to Alice Garner, she scowled at Cynthia. “I can’t believe you threw a party after learning about dad’s death.”
“What party?” Cynthia asked.
She held up her phone played the video Brice had sent Kayla. “This one.”
“I don’t care what it looks like; it wasn’t a party. It was a cookout we’d had planned earlier.”
Alice Garner’s eyes narrowed. “You need to leave.”
Brice followed Tristen and Cynthia from the big sanctuary. “That blew up in our faces.”
“You sent the video,” Cynthia said accusingly.
“You’re the one who told him to,” Tristen reminded. “Don’t blame him.”
Off to the side, her father stood with Kayla. Owen placed his arm around her and gave her a light hug.
Cynthia sighed. “My own dad is a traitor.”
“She was his step-daughter-in-law,” Tristen added. “He’s being polite.”
“She was only family for a week or two.”
“Remember what I said about wearing a poker face?” Brice asked Cynthia.
“I know. I can’t bring myself to smile and pretend everything is all right.”
“Weren’t your dad and her parents, friends?” Tristen asked.
“Yes, and business partners for a short time.”
As they stepped into the foyer, Kayla walked toward Brice. She wore an exuberant smile. “Brice, I’m glad you’re here. You were so right about the property in Tennessee. Thank you for your advice.”
Brice jabbed his finger in her face. “I didn’t give you any damn advice.”
She appeared amused. “Look, Brice, she’s going to find out sooner or later.”
Cynthia Conners’ face glowed with unleashed anger. “Find out about what?”
“Brice should be the one to tell you.” Kayla turned to Owen. “Since they’re not staying, you’re welcome to join me.”
Owen glanced back at Cynthia. “Catch you later, dear. I’d like to spend a little time with Kayla.”
Kayla, Cynthia’s father, and Lily walked back inside the sanctuary.
Cynthia’s eyes
widened with disbelief. She turned on Brice. “What was she talking about?”
Brice shrugged with his hands up. “Look I don’t have any idea what in the hell she’s talking about.”
“You’ve signed on with her,” Cynthia accused.
“I haven’t signed Jack-shit.”
Again, Tristen came to his aid. “She’s playing you, Cynthia. If she had a signed agreement with Brice, she would’ve flaunted it in your face. But she doesn’t have shit. Now calm down. You and Brice need to sit down and figure out how to outsmart her.”
Cynthia sighed. “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions.”
“We could throw a bucket of water on her and watch her melt,” Brice suggested.
They chuckled, easing the tension between them.
Right now, Brice needed a good stiff drink. This had been a horrible day.
After leaving the funeral home, they met at the King George Tavern to discuss Kayla Miller.
Brice sipped the Scotch he’d ordered as he shared what his investigator had reported.
“She sounds dangerous,” Cynthia said. “That explains why she married Randall. Most women he dated dropped him within the first month.”
Brice had met Randall Miller years ago. It hadn’t taken long to figure out the guy was ruthless and cunning.
He met Cynthia’s gaze. “We need to think this through carefully. There has to be a way to stay a step ahead of her. But first, we need to rack our brains to figure out how she knew about Crammer Industries.”
Cynthia appeared disheartened. “I’m afraid we might’ve said something else on the flight that she’ll use to her advantage.”
“First off, you have to trust me. She’s trying to build distrust, so you’ll let me go. I guess she thinks I’ll go crawling to her.”
“Have the jets checked for electronic bugs,” Tristen suggested.
Cynthia ran the tip of her finger around the upper edge of her wine glass. “That’s actually a possibility.” She smiled at Tristen. “Thanks, sweetie.”
Afterwards, Brice returned to his SUV. For just a moment a ripple of fear ran through him. He dropped on his hands and knees and searched beneath it. He didn’t see anything that could be a bomb. He climbed in his SUV and started it up.
