The First Cut (Terrence Reid Mystery Series Book 2)

by Mary Birk

  The guard nodded.

  “Anne, unzip me so I can take off this stupid bra and have them scan me without it. I told you these things set it off. I’m never wearing one again. This is just bloody ridiculous.” Moira glared at the guards as she spoke. “I think these arseholes just do this to get off.”

  Moving to help Moira, Anne could hardly breathe for the fear that had settled in her chest. With this kind of thoroughness, the security guards would certainly find the flashdrive on her when it was her turn. She tried to control the panic she felt rising through her as she unzipped Moira’s dress. Moira pulled the bra out and handed it over to be scanned. The other guard ran the wand over Moira’s body.

  The bra was then handed back to Anne, who helped Moira put it back on under the robe.

  When Moira had rearranged herself, she stood back to help Anne for her turn.

  Anne stood quietly as the scanners passed across her body. The scan for electronic transmissions went quickly and without incident, as she’d expected. She handed her shoes over to the guard who’d checked Moira’s shoes. Then the other guard handed her the robe so he could do the metal detection scan on her body.

  Anne shook her head and refused to take it. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t. My husband would never tolerate me undressing in front of you gentlemen, or allowing you to handle my lingerie. I’ve already gotten in enough trouble with him this week.”

  The guard looked at Moira, too unfamiliar with Anne to feel comfortable asking her the question. Moira nodded and quietly spoke in Anne’s ear. Anne whispered her response, feeling her face redden.

  Moira slanted her eyes to the guard. “She doesn’t think she’ll need the robe. She’s not wearing a bra. Go ahead and do the scan.”

  The guard swallowed and nodded self-consciously, starting his slow scan of Anne’s body for metal. As the wand rode up along her body, she prayed. Reaching her breasts, there was no signal. He paused and nodded, indicating that Moira had been right, then continued running the metal detector where he’d left off, moving upwards toward Anne’s head. When he reached her elaborately coiffed hair, her jeweled combs set the machine off.

  “I’ll have to ask you to remove your hair ornaments, Lady Anne.”

  She gave a big sigh. “All right, but my hair will fall down. It took forever for me to arrange it.” Anne reached up and started to unfasten the combs, then noticed Walter Von Zandt watching her intently from just inside the dining room. She waved and smiled at him. “I may be a while, Walter. I’m going to need a mirror and some time to redo my hair after this.”

  Von Zandt came forward, shaking his head at the guard. “She’s fine. We don’t want Lady Anne’s beautiful hair to be disturbed.” The guard backed away and Walter took Anne’s arm to lead her in to dinner. “My dear, I’m sorry about all of these security precautions. It’s just necessary these days.”

  “I understand.” She could feel Moira’s eyes burning into her back. She stopped, turned, and reached her hand out to the girl behind her. “Thank you for waiting for me, Moira. Come on. I can’t wait to see the table arrangements. Walter, Moira’s worked so hard on everything. I’m sure you’ll be pleased.”

  Von Zandt managed to readjust his face to hide his dismay, but Moira smiled and Anne felt safer; she could not afford for Moira to become alienated from her right now. She squeezed Moira’s hand.

  Chapter 82

  VON ZANDT SAT at the head of the long, elegant table with Anne to his right. In addition to Von Zandt’s two sons and Moira, Anne counted seven other dinner guests, all men. Five men who seemed to be of Arabic origin, two Nigerians, and Cyrus Rothman, Walter’s solicitor. Moira was seated between the two Nigerians and seemed to be doing her best to be pleasant to them. Moira’s aunt had not come after all, and when Moira asked Henry about where Glynnis was, he’d brushed her off.

  Covertly, Anne watched Von Zandt nod toward Moira, then to the two men next to her in an admonishment for her to pay attention to them. Moira’s face held a hint of defiance, but under his harsh gaze she did as she was told, and entertained the two men with what appeared to be amusing conversation. Anne wondered if Walter actually meant for Moira’s entertainment duties to go so far as to take them to bed. Anne did not think Moira would be so obliging, no matter what Von Zandt thought.

  Von Zandt had turned on his overwhelming charm, and had the table engaged in an animated discussion of world affairs. With Anne, he was solicitous and attentive, without being overly aggressive. His hand would touch Anne’s arm, though, and occasionally, he would cover her hand with his. The smell of his expensive cologne hung lightly in the air between them. When he spoke to her, his face was too close, and she felt his breath on her. Anne recognized the signs of a man making a serious move on her, even when those moves were covered by a layer of finesse. Moira was right; she would have to get away to her room right after dinner.

  She tried to think of a way to get out of the house tonight. Not only did she need to get the flashdrive to Terrence, but she was more afraid than she wanted to admit that Moira would turn on her. Unfortunately, no brilliant plan came to her.

  Anne had busied herself during the pre-dinner cocktail hour trying to commit the guests’ names to memory, and then throughout dinner trying to link comments about where they were from, and what they discussed, to their names, so she could report the information once she got out of there. About half of the guests chose non-alcoholic drinks, and Anne surmised that they must be more devout Muslims than the others. Careful to not look too interested in the dinner guests, and recognizing that most of the men there were not used to casual conversation with unrelated women, she took care to behave demurely, and was quiet most of the time unless a remark was directed at her.

  A manservant served the appetizer which was some kind of mushroom and eggplant dish, then cleared the plates away and brought a light, almost Asian soup. The menu seemed to have been designed to cater to the stricter of the guests’ Muslim dietary requirements, and the dishes, although unfamiliar to Anne, were delicious.

  Walter was solicitous of his guests’ preferences, but did not try to adhere to them himself. Wine was served with each course for those who wanted it, and, of course, he had included both Anne and Moira in the dinner party, which would not have been acceptable in certain Muslim countries, especially dressed in gowns that showed so much bare flesh. Clearly, Walter had his limits about how far he was willing to alter his own behavior to accommodate his business associates.

  The solicitor, Cyrus Rothman, eyed everyone and spoke very little. Anne studied him so she could report about him as well. He was a thin man with almost exaggerated features; his nose was large, as were his lips and ears. His graying hair was combed thinly back from his receding hairline. His tuxedo was close-fitting and expensive and he wore a silver wedding ring.

  Rothman caught her looking at him, and returned her gaze, letting his mouth curve into what he must use for a smile. Anne knew better than to look away and pretend she hadn’t been looking him over. Instead, she returned his smile with one of her own at full wattage. He blinked in surprise and actually blushed. She casually turned back to listen to Von Zandt with wide-eyed interest.

  Von Zandt, catching only Rothman’s side of the exchange, eyed his solicitor with displeasure. Rothman looked uneasy as he tried to regain his composure. Von Zandt leaned possessively toward Anne, not pausing his conversation with his business colleagues.

  Anne resisted the impulse to smile at the lawyer’s discomfort, and instead went back to her interrupted observations of the guests and conversation. The names of the men were so difficult. She had tried to put together an acronym to remember them, but couldn’t for the life of her think of one. Faruq, Hakim, Asim, Hashim, Kadir were the ones she thought of as Arabs. The Nigerians were Abejide and Jaja. Their surnames were even more difficult, so those she silently chanted to herself to make herself remember them. She wished for her worthless wire so that she wouldn’t have to do this. She decided to think
of the men as plants, so many of which had difficult names. She put a different plant together in her mind with each one, and tried to think of drawing each one of them.

  That seemed to work, and it was something she could do as she listened to the conversation. Maybe I’m not half bad at this covert operation stuff, she thought.

  The butler entered, approached Von Zandt, and whispered something in his ear. Walter looked annoyed, shook his head, but then responded sharply with words Anne could not hear. Von Zandt’s eyes landed on Anne, narrowing. Her heart stopped as terror seized her.

  He knew.

  Chapter 83

  REID DROVE UP to the gates of Lynstrade Manor in the sleek black Mercedes he generally used only for social occasions. With no warrant, he couldn’t very well push his way in. Of course, he was not coming under his official capacity, but as a husband looking for his errant wife. If Von Zandt refused him entrance, he would have to figure out another approach.

  Two guards were posted at the stone gate stations, both armed. One approached his car. Reid hit the button to roll down his window. “Lord Reid. I’m here to see my wife, Lady Anne.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t have your name as authorized to enter this evening. We’ll have to check with the house.” The guard looked back at his counterpart who nodded and went into the small guardhouse.

  Reid shrugged, assuming the persona of privileged aristocrat. “If you must.”

  The guard who’d gone in to make the call, came back out, and went over to the car. “Lord Reid, I’m sorry, but Mr. Von Zandt is giving a dinner party tonight and regrets that this is not a convenient time for visitors.”

  Reid made himself look annoyed and arrogant, as he thought these guards would expect from someone like him. “I’m not bloody visiting him. I’m here to get my wife.”

  The guard cleared his throat. “Sir, I believe Lady Anne is attending the dinner.”

  “She bloody well isn’t. She’s coming with me.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is Andrew Grainger here with her? She damn well better not be meeting him here.” Reid assumed these guards were up on the gossip about Anne. The story had to have been irresistible when they had the pretty star attraction of the tabloids staying right here under their noses. “I’ll not leave until I make sure that American bastard isn’t here sniffing around her. You tell Von Zandt I want to see my wife right now. By God, he’d better not be letting her meet that bastard here.”

  The guard, surprised by the vehemence of Reid’s rant, went back into the guardhouse to call again. When he came out, he said, “Mr. Von Zandt said you can go through. He’ll meet with you alone. But he wanted me to remind you that he has guests for dinner, and that he cannot spare much time.”

  “I don’t want his bloody time. I want my wife.” Reid drove through to the front drive, too fast, abruptly stopping the car on the gravel drive.

  The door was answered by a manservant dressed in a traditional formal black suit. From the man’s physique, Reid was fairly certain that the man was also one of Von Zandt’s bodyguards. His half-bald head was fronted by the face of a belligerent bulldog.

  “I’m Lord Reid, here to see Lady Anne. My wife.”

  “Yes, my lord. I’ll get Mr. Von Zandt for you.”

  “I don’t need to see him. Just my wife. We have an engagement for a dinner party with Lord and Lady Stergus, and I expect her to join me.” He made his words slur a little as if he’d had just a little too much to drink.

  “Lady Anne is dining with Mr. Von Zandt and his guests.”

  “No, she’s not. She’s dining with me.”

  “Mr. Von Zandt asked me to tell you that he’ll meet with you. I’ll get him now. If you’ll wait here, please, my lord.”

  “You don’t need to trouble yourself. I’ll get the bloody woman myself. The dining room is this way?”

  The man scurried after Reid as if he were going to try to stop him.

  Reid turned back, his face hard, and bit his words out. “You don’t want to interfere. I am getting my wife, and she will be coming with me.”

  He opened the door of the dining room and the room became quiet. Five guards who had been stationed around the table drew automatic weapons and pointed them at Reid. The servant apologized to Von Zandt who stood up and silenced the man by raising a hand, then motioned for the guards to stand down.

  “Lord Reid, if you’ll wait a moment, we can talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you. I’ve come for my wife.”

  Anne, seated to Von Zandt’s right and across the table from the door, found his eyes, and he saw relief register in her face. She’d known she was in danger.

  Silently sending her thoughts of reassurance and entreaties to play along with him, he motioned with his head toward the door. His voice was rough. “Get up, Anne. I’ve had enough of this kind of behavior from you. We’re leaving.”

  Her eyes downcast, she rose from the table. Reid, watching and keeping his gaze disapproving, was momentarily struck anew by her startling beauty. She wore an exquisite, but revealing, black evening gown, and her hair was drawn up in the jeweled combs he’d given her.

  Von Zandt put his hand on her arm to stop her from going, the possessive gesture not escaping Reid.

  Reid felt a low growl rumble up from his chest. “Anne, let’s go. Now.”

  Von Zandt drew himself up, his eyes like knives. “You’ve been drinking. I’m concerned for her safety if she leaves with you.” He moved his arm to encircle Anne, and his voice gentled. “My dear, you don’t have to go with him. You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

  Reid kept his eyes fixed on his wife, willing her to move away from the man and the danger. “Anne, come here right now.” His voice was harsh and authoritative in a way he’d never spoken to her before, no matter how heated their arguments had gotten.

  Appearing almost hypnotized, she started to move away from Von Zandt and toward him. Von Zandt, however, kept his arm around her and walked with her out of the dining room, motioning for Reid to follow.

  After the door to the dining room closed, Reid spoke through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low but menacing. “Von Zandt, take your fucking hands off of my wife before I break them off. Anne, come with me.” His speech, though still clipped, had the slight slur of someone who had imbibed too much alcohol. He wanted to appear just inebriated enough to explain his impulsive behavior, but not enough to look vulnerable to being fended off.

  Von Zandt, momentarily startled by being spoken to in such a way, released her. Anne moved toward Reid, but Von Zandt seemed to recover himself, and put his hand out to grab her again. “Anne.”

  “I mean it, Von Zandt. Back off. Anne, get over here.”

  She nodded, and shook her head at Von Zandt. “Walter, please.” Then she looked back at Reid, her voice placating. “I’m coming, Terrence, but you have to let me drive. You’ve definitely been drinking too much for that. I’ll take you home.”

  “We’re not going home. We’ve a dinner to attend. And I think I can be excused for drinking a little when I have a wife that won’t stay where she’s supposed to be.”

  She huffed in an excellent rendition of an exasperated wife. “Okay, but you have to let me drive.”

  Reid motioned for her to come, and let impatience and annoyance flash across his face. “Bloody hell, woman. Drive if you want. Just come on.”

  “Terrence, let me have a minute to say goodbye to my host.”

  Reid’s eyes bore down on her. “One minute—that’s all. I’ll wait right here, and he’d best keep his hands to himself. I’ve had enough of this. No one will be touching you but me. And I’m listening, mind you, so watch that pretty mouth.”

  “Calm down. Just give me one minute.” Anne held up one finger, then went over to Von Zandt whose face was full of concern. Reid watched and listened as she talked to him, keeping his own face impatient and angry, while his heart pounded almost out of control.

  “Walter, I’m so sorry we
’ve disrupted your dinner party. I need to go with my husband.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Von Zandt looked over at him. “He won’t get violent?”

  Reid felt another growl roll from his chest and out through his throat. “If I got violent every time the bloody woman caused me trouble…” He shook his head with frustrated temper.

  Anne’s face was a perfect study in wifely annoyance. “Please, Terrence.” She turned back to Von Zandt. “No, he won’t hurt me. Thank you for your hospitality, Walter. You’ve been so kind. Can you have someone send my things over to the hotel tomorrow?”

  “If you really want me to.”

  “Please.”

  “But you’ll still be here to finish my gardens?”

  “Yes, of course.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I just don’t think it’s wise if I stay here.”

  “I understand. Let me know if there is anything I can do. Frankly, I’m concerned for your safety.” Von Zandt looked at Reid warily, but his tone to Anne was still solicitous.

  Reid glared at him, and only part of his behavior was an act. “Fuck you, Von Zandt. She’s my wife. I’ll worry about her.”

  Anne shook her head at his outburst. “Really, Terrence, please be civil. Walter, don’t worry. He won’t hurt me. We’ve just been going through some difficult times. I’m so sorry to have involved you.”

  Von Zandt nodded. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Please let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Walter.”

  She put out her hand to Reid. Taking it quickly, he pulled her close to him. He squeezed her hand tightly with relief at almost having her out of there. Then he put his arm around her and guided her to the car. She put out her hands for the keys and Reid, putting on a show of annoyance for the man watching at the top of the stairs, took them out of his pocket and handed them to her.

  From the corner of his eye, Reid saw someone running toward him. He slid his hand into his jacket, ready to grab his weapon. Then he saw it was a smiling Moira, and he momentarily relaxed. She handed him a small box wrapped with black satin ribbon and kissed him on the cheek. Startled, he took the box from her.