The Secret, Book & Scone Society

by Ellery Adams

  “You’d be surprised,” Fenton replied. “I do what’s necessary to get what I want.”

  When Estella spoke next, she sounded so close that Nora was positive the naked couple was on the other side of the towel stand.

  “Just how ruthless are you, Fenton? Would you pay someone to push your partner in front of a train?”

  There was a crash of breaking glass and Nora jerked in surprise. Beside her, Hester and June shifted onto their knees. All three women were coiled like cobras waiting to strike, waiting to see if Estella needed help.

  “Look what you’ve made me do,” Fenton said. His voice was an ominous rumble.

  Estella laughed. “It’s only a scratch. Dip it in the pool while I grab you a towel. We can turn this into a little role-play game. You be the patient and I’ll be your naughty nurse.”

  “I’m done with games,” Fenton snapped. “I’ve already had enough stress this week, what with Neil and his idiotic crisis of conscience, and I’m out of patience. I want what I came here to get.”

  “I promised you an unforgettable evening,” Estella said. “I’ve delivered on that promise. If you want more, then ask me on another date.”

  Fenton muttered under his breath and someone approached the towel stand and then retreated again. Nora hoped that both Estella and Fenton were now covered up and that their date was truly at an end.

  Suddenly, Estella cried, “No! Stop! Get off!”

  “I answered your questions!” Fenton shouted breathlessly. “You owe me a reward. That was our deal.”

  Nora didn’t have to see what was happening to know that a physical struggle was taking place between Fenton and Estella. Fenton’s grunts and stilted speech bounced off the walls of the alcove and seemed to surround the other women.

  Nora turned to June and Hester. “Let’s go!”

  “I’ve got this.” June leapt to her feet and hurried over to the wall. She flicked a switch, flooding the massive space with light.

  “What the hell?” Fenton bellowed.

  June cleared her throat and, in the singsong voice of a flight attendant or a voicemail recording, said, “Sir, this area is closed. Please collect your clothes and make your way to the exit. Ma’am? Are you okay?”

  “I’m just peachy,” Estella replied. She sounded winded. “I’ll let the gentleman leave first, seeing as we’re not staying in the same guest room.”

  “Oh,” June said. “I see.”

  Fenton barreled through the exit, leaving a stream of expletives in his wake.

  “You can come out now.” June beckoned to Nora and Hester.

  Stepping around Fenton’s broken tumbler, Nora hurried to where Estella sat on a lounge chair. She had one towel wrapped around her torso and a second draped over her shoulders.

  “Are you hurt?” Nora asked, but before the words were even out, she saw angry red marks on Estella’s neck. “Did he try to choke you?”

  “Either that, or he was trying to hold me still. I was thrashing around too much to know which.” Estella touched her neck. “He didn’t have the chance to bear down and squeeze because the lights distracted him.” She looked at June. “Thank you.”

  June folded her arms across her chest. She was angry. “You’re crazy, you know that? You baited that man. A drunk and dangerous man.”

  “I’ve dealt with his type before,” Estella replied. She seemed unfazed by the attack, but Nora knew that people were capable of concealing feelings of deep distress.

  “We should call nine-one-one!” Hester exclaimed. “Report that bastard.”

  Estella shook her head. “You think Sheriff Toad will do anything? It’ll be Renfield’s word against mine. A few marks on my neck won’t be enough to hold him.”

  “What about us?” Hester asked. “You have three witnesses.”

  “Could you see? Without lights? From where you were hiding behind the towel stand? Come on. You know what’ll happen.” Estella shook her head again, causing damp tendrils of red hair to cling to her cheeks. “I’d rather use the threat of going to the cops to get more information from that fat bastard. You heard the slime. Now we know why he and his partners weren’t saddened by Neil’s death. They wanted to be rid of him and the problems he might have created. With Neil gone, they can all get back to the business of making money.”

  June handed Estella her clothes. “Fenton said that Neil’s crisis of conscience caused him stress. All that odious man seems to care about is money and himself. If you threaten those things, Estella, he’ll be your enemy. And what if we’re not around to rescue you the next time he gets angry?”

  “I’ve never needed rescuing. I’m no helpless princess,” Estella snapped.

  Before June could reply, Nora performed a referee’s time-out gesture. “You’re clearly a fighter. You stepped into the ring tonight, Estella, and you were brave. But it’s my turn, now. Let me follow the paper trail to Dawson Hendricks and the Madison County Community Bank.”

  “Hendricks,” June scoffed. “The name alone gives me the creeps. I don’t know Dawson, but I could see Sheriff Toad pushing Neil in front of that train and then sitting down to a nice meal of chicken-fried steak.”

  “Speaking of the sheriff,” Hester said. “He’s a regular at the Gingerbread House. I’m going to turn on the charm, toss a few treats his way, and ask him some leading questions about his financial situation.” She held up her hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll be subtle. I’ll play the dumb-woman-who-can’t-balance-a-checkbook act. He’ll totally eat that up.”

  June nodded. “I like that plan. His wife comes to the pools every now and then. I usually go out of my way to avoid her and her posse. These women must have slept through every history class on the abolishment of slavery and civil rights. And I can guarantee you that not one of them has read The Help.”

  Three of the four members of the Secret, Book, and Scone Society laughed, and though June’s face had been taut with anger a moment ago, it now crinkled in amusement.

  “We should get out of here,” Estella said. She turned away from her friends and began to dress.

  To give her more privacy, Nora, June, and Hester moved to another set of lounge chairs.

  “Do you really think she’s okay?” Hester whispered. “I wouldn’t be after what just happened.”

  “I’ll drive her home and spend some time with her,” June said. “I want her to know that she’s not alone.”

  Nora and Hester approved of this idea, and as soon as Estella was ready, the four women left the bathhouse and headed for June’s car.

  That’s when Nora realized that she’d left her purse at the bar.

  After swearing under her breath, Nora asked June to drive back up the hill to the lodge.

  That’s what happens when you don’t have a drop of alcohol for over four years, and then you pound back three drinks.

  Nora wasn’t drunk. The scene with Estella had sent such a jolt of adrenaline through her body that all that remained was a lingering sense of tipsiness.

  Inside the Oasis, Bob had her purse tucked behind the bar. He handed it to her with a friendly smile and asked after Estella, but Nora only mumbled something about Estella’s having gone home, and turned away. As she headed for the lobby, she felt guilty for being so short with Bob. Of the men she’d recently encountered, he was the only one she’d call a gentleman.

  It wasn’t a man, however, but a little boy who barreled into her just as the lobby carpet gave way to the slick marble floor leading to the rotating exit doors. Pushed off-balance, Nora’s right foot twisted violently in Estella’s spiky heels and she toppled to the floor.

  The fall hurt. Her hip and elbow struck the cold, unyielding marble and Nora squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying out.

  “Bryson! You naughty boy. Look what you’ve done. Apologize to the lady!”

  Nora heard Bryson mutter something about a scary face. Unwilling to make eye contact with Bryson or his family, Nora decided to lie still for a moment longer. The pain surge
d through her right side like a storm wave.

  “Just breathe, honey,” a friendly voice whispered close to Nora’s ear. “We’ve called Old Jedediah Craig. He’s on the way.”

  Nora opened her eyes. She didn’t want assistance from Old Jedediah, whoever he was. “I’ll be okay,” she said, feeling clammy and embarrassed. The sharpest edge of the pain was abating from her elbow and hip, though she knew bluish-plum and deep-purple bruises would bloom in both places by tomorrow.

  “My friends are waiting in a car outside,” she continued to explain to the elderly bellhop with the grandfatherly face.

  “Your ankle’s swelling like an overripe tomato,” he said. “You can’t put weight on that. Jedediah will have to see if it’s broken. Don’t you worry, Jed Craig is the best paramedic in the county.”

  Nora managed to sit up, but she kept her gaze lowered. She could feel far too many eyes on her.

  “She’ll be all right, folks,” the bellhop announced, sensing Nora’s discomfort. “Go on and enjoy your night, now.”

  There was a shuffling as the spectators moved off.

  After thanking the bellhop, Nora insisted that she only needed help getting outside. Her friends would see to her care after that.

  “Well, I’ll be! Here’s Jedediah!” the man suddenly declared. “He must’ve been close by. You’re a lucky lady.”

  Yeah, that’s me. Ms. Good Fortune. Ms. Lucky Lady, Nora thought wryly, and refused to watch Old Jedediah approach. She was already imagining him as an aged Ernest Hemingway look-alike with leathery skin, a grizzly, gray beard, and a slight paunch. He’d touch her with thick-fingered, clinical hands and speak to her in a tone that suggested he had better things to do than examine a clumsy woman who, if her burn scars indicated anything, was unable to stay out of harm’s way.

  Nora couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Chapter 7

  Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words.

  —Rumi

  Because Nora still had her eyes fixed on the floor, she saw Old Jedediah’s boots first.

  Several thoughts struck her at once. He has big feet. He must be tall. Do paramedics wear hiking boots?

  And then, against her will, Nora’s mind traveled to the night of her accident. It wasn’t the pain she remembered. Some things were worse than the pain. The smell of spilled gasoline and smoke. The acrid stench of smoldering metal and charred clothing, skin, and hair. The strangled sob sounds gurgling out of her throat as she struggled to free the driver from her seat belt—to save her from being burned alive inside her mangled car. The keening of ambulance and police sirens. And afterward, the voices.

  So many voices. So many questions.

  Nora didn’t answer any of them.

  The darkness reached out to her and she dropped into its embrace.

  “Are you a hiker?” the voice belonging to the boots asked her now.

  The question threw Nora and she glanced up to find herself face-to-face with Old Jedediah. She took in his tousled brown hair, ocean-blue eyes, and chiseled jaw.

  He can’t be a day over forty, she thought, perplexed by the paramedic’s nickname.

  Jedediah Craig was one of the best-looking men Nora had ever seen. He possessed the rugged hands and bristle-covered cheeks and chin of a gun-toting, spur-wearing Western outlaw along with the intelligent, amused gaze of a Jane Austen hero.

  “These aren’t my shoes,” was Nora’s lame reply. She turned the scarred side of her face away from him. “I have boots like yours at home, but I don’t think I’ll be hiking for a day or two.”

  Silently berating herself for rambling, Nora waited for the paramedic to open his kit and get on with his examination. The moment he started, she planned to tell him to stop. However, he kept his hands firmly planted on his knees.

  Nora could feel him studying her.

  “My friends are waiting in a car outside,” she said, suddenly snapping her gaze back to meet his. “Can you get me to them? I’d prefer not to sit in the middle of the lobby like a sideshow act.”

  “I can help you outside.” He held up a finger. “But first, I’d like to be sure you haven’t broken anything. Namely, your ankle. Do I have permission to touch your foot? If it isn’t broken, I won’t compound your embarrassment by putting you on my stretcher and wheeling you out to my rig.”

  Relieved, Nora said, “Just be quick, please. I’d really like to go.”

  Opening his kit, Jedediah pulled out a pair of gloves and laid them across his leg. He then offered Nora his hand. “Before I put these on, I should introduce myself. I’m Jed.”

  “Nora.”

  “Tell me if anything I do causes you discomfort,” Jed said, his focus now entirely on her ankle, which, as the bellhop had stated, was already swelling.

  With deft, gentle fingers, Jed pressed down on Nora’s tissue until he met bone. From there, he worked his fingers around her ankle to the top of her foot, back to her ankle joint, and upward to her shin.

  “May I take this off?” he asked, referring to Estella’s shoe.

  Nora nodded and Jed unfastened the tiny silver buckle. He then lowered Nora’s calf until the weight of her leg fell onto his thighs. Next, he slid his right hand along the bottom of her foot, easing the shoe off in a slow, deliberate movement that had Nora hypnotized.

  She was so unaccustomed to being touched that she flinched when his hand closed around her naked foot.

  Jed searched her face with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m a little ticklish,” she lied.

  For this admission, Nora was rewarded with a lingering smile from Jed’s Rhett Butler mouth.

  You’re no Scarlett O’Hara, Nora reminded herself. Instead of returning the smile, she looked over Jed’s shoulder toward the exit doors.

  “Almost done,” he said quietly, correctly reading her desire to be on her way.

  Jed carefully rotated her foot, checking her level of discomfort with each change in direction. Finally, he removed his gloves and dropped them into his kit.

  “I doubt it’s broken, but the real test is whether or not you can put any weight on it. Are you ready to try?”

  Despite the throbbing in her ankle, Nora said, “yes” without hesitating.

  Jed explained that he wanted her to lean into him as he lifted her, and though Nora could plainly see his well-defined biceps, she was reluctant to comply.

  “I can put a hand under your other elbow if it’ll make you feel better,” the elderly bellhop said.

  Nora accepted his offer, but it was clear that Jed didn’t need any assistance. He slid his arm around Nora’s waist and scooped her off the ground so abruptly that she grabbed a fistful of his shirt in surprise.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his mouth so close that she felt the warmth of his breath on her neck. “I won’t let you go,” he said, squeezing her waist to reinforce his point.

  Time slowed to a near halt. The seconds stretched out like the view of the mountains from one of the highest vistas on the Appalachian Trail. Nora seemed unable to release her hold of Jed’s shirt. She leaned her head against his hard chest and caught hints of Honeycrisp apples, chopped wood, sunlit pine needles, and old books.

  “Go on, girlie! Try putting some weight on that foot.” The bellhop jarred Nora’s elbow, breaking the spell. Nora felt heat rush to her face. And with the heat, came the itching. She shifted her hand from Jed’s shirt to her cheek, covering up her octopi-shaped scar.

  “Um. Yeah.” Jed seemed to have been caught in the same daze as Nora. “If you’re ready.”

  Nora touched her bare foot to the marble, and a sharp bolt of pain surged up from her ankle to her calf. She tried to cover her wince with a smile, feeling more foolish than she had when she’d first fallen. She had no business mooning over Jed like a teenager with a crush.

  Clenching her teeth, Nora said, “It’s tender, but I can make it to the car.”

  Though this was the tru
th, Jed looked at her intently for several seconds before asking the bellhop to collect Nora’s shoe.

  “I can handle that,” the elderly man said. “And I can get the side door for you too.”

  Because Nora had to rely on Jed’s strength more than she wanted to, her anger grew. She was not only irked with herself, but also with her friends. Why hadn’t they come into the lobby to look for her? They must have realized that something was wrong. It shouldn’t have taken this long for her to fetch her purse.

  Outside, Nora searched for June’s car.

  “They’re not here,” she muttered crossly, glancing left and right.

  “Duncan probably made them circle around,” the bellhop said. “He’s the head valet and he takes his job too seriously. What kind of car is your friend driving?”

  After Nora told him, the bellhop removed the small walkie-talkie clipped to his belt and called to Duncan. “Help the lady driver get as close to the front door as possible,” the bellhop commanded. “Her friend is hurt.”

  It took less than a minute for June’s car to come into view. Nora avoiding making eye contact with Jed, but she was hyper-aware of his arm around her waist and of the way his fingers pressed into her lower back. She felt possessed and protected. And completely unnerved.

  “You can bear weight on your foot, which is good, but you’ll need to follow the RICE regime as soon as you get home,” Jed said as June pulled to a stop. “Rest, ice, compression, and elevation. Ibuprofen for the pain. Do you have the supplies?”

  “I do,” June replied before Nora could. “I keep a whole pharmacy at my place. I like to be ready for anything.” Turning to Nora, she said, “I’m sorry we weren’t waiting out here, but the valet chased us off. I’ve dealt with him before at the bathhouse. He has a serious Napoleon complex.”

  This made the bellhop laugh. “So that’s what it’s called, eh?” He opened the passenger door for Nora before retreating to his post.