Blood Rose

by P. T. Michelle

  “Do you want me to stay? Or should I have Beatrice call a doctor for you?”

  She shakes her head. “Thank you for offering to stay, but I’ll be fine. I’ll call her if I need anything. I’m just sorry I had to cut lunch short. One of these days we’re going to spend more than an hour together, I swear.”

  “Promise?” I tease.

  “Yeah, maybe a girls night out even.”

  “Now you’re just getting all crazy.”

  Beth laughs, then winces. “Um, maybe on your way out, could you ask Beatrice to bring me up some Ibuprofen?”

  “Absolutely,” I say, nodding. “Get some rest and call me when you feel better.”

  As I start to walk out, Beth calls quietly, “Cass?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for coming today, for listening to me ramble, and generally being a very good friend. You’ve always been there when I’ve needed you. And since my sister isn’t here to do so, I’m thanking you on her behalf too. I’m not sure if I ever did that before, but you went above and beyond for her during that whole switch ordeal. Thank you for being so selfless.”

  I smile to cover the churning in my stomach. I hate deceiving her, but even if I had told her, Beth’s in no shape to help and Celeste’s deadline hasn’t changed. “Of course, Beth. That’s what friends do for each other. Now close your eyes and try to rest. I’ll send Beatrice up on my way out.”

  The house manager is hovering at the bottom of the stairs, a concerned look on her face. “I came to check if you needed anything else for lunch and saw you walking her upstairs. Is everything alright with Beth?”

  I shake my head. “She’s not feeling well. I put her in her mom’s room. She asked for you to bring her some Ibuprofen. And maybe also bring up a heating pad or hot water bottle. She’s got the chills. Don’t worry about seeing me out. I’m just going to grab my purse and use the restroom before I leave.”

  “Okay, thank you, Cass. I’m going to take care of Beth right away.”

  I wait until she heads for the kitchen, then retrieve my oversized purse from my chair in the dining room and make my way toward the bathroom. But instead of using it, I veer toward the elevator at the end of the hall and hit the down button.

  My heart pounds against my chest while the quiet elevator moves slowly down to the wine cellar. I check my watch the moment the doors slide open. I’ve probably got seven minutes max to find the money, stuff it in my purse, and slip out without being noticed.

  Just as I step off the elevator and start to enter into the cellar area, I look up and see the camera. Well crap! They must’ve added it since I was here last. As I stare at the equipment, I realize that it’s set up to focus on the most expensive bottles in their collection and not the area I’ll be in.

  A fine sheen of sweat coats my skin in the cool cellar as I remove the four wine bottles and lift up the drawer’s fake bottom. My eyes bug at the amount of neatly strapped ten-thousand dollar stacks of hundred dollar bills. Holy shit! Will I be able to fit all this in my purse?

  Taking a deep breath, I start stacking the money neatly in the bottom in two side-by-side stacks. It takes longer than I thought, because Celeste had actually stowed away a mini fortune.

  Three hundred grand weighs more than one would think, I mentally grumble as I lug the heavy purse up onto my shoulder. Or maybe that’s just my own duplicity catching up with me. My palm sweats as I fold it tight around the strap on my shoulder, but I move quickly out the front door, determined to leave the Carver estate as calmly but as quickly as possible.

  “Miss Rockwell!”

  My insides jump and I tense. The deep voice brings back annoying memories, but I stop and turn just before I reach my car. I’m surprised Marco is still employed by the Carvers considering he was Celeste’s bodyguard. “What can I do for you, Marco?”

  He folds his arms over his thick chest. “I figured you’d never show your face around here again.”

  Tightening my fingers around the strap on my shoulder, I can’t help but mentally smirk at the bullish man’s slightly crooked nose. All compliments of Calder. “I see you haven’t changed your asinine attitude,” I reply, then turn to open my car door.

  “What’s in your purse? Looks heavy.”

  My elbow folds tighter around the leather purse as I pull open my door and face him. “My camera and other equipment. In my real life, I’m a photographer.”

  His gaze narrows in suspicion. “Open it and let me see.”

  “That would be a no.” I stare him down. “Do you really think Beth would tolerate you badgering her guest like this?”

  “I don’t work for Beth. I work for her father. Now open it,” he commands, stepping forward.

  “If you so much as lay a hand on me…” I snap. “Not only will I make sure you lose your job, but Calder will finish rearranging your face.”

  Before he can step any closer, I get in my car and shut the door. My whole body coils with tension as I drive away. Marco continues to stare after me with an angry gaze, his hand balled into a fist by his side.

  Once I leave the estate, I pull over to a nearby side street and turn off the engine. I was shaking so badly, I could barely keep the car on the road. Taking several deep breaths to keep from throwing up, I force myself to calm down. A few minutes pass before I’m able to hold the steering wheel with steady hands. I glance at my stuffed purse, my stomach still churning, then dig out my phone.

  I have the money. I’m bringing it now. I can be there in an hour and a half.

  A text quickly pops up.

  That’s great, but you can’t come today. Bring it tomorrow. I’ll be out, so use the key. I have a ton of errands I couldn’t get done today, because my jerky landlord showed up to fix a plumbing issue he’s ignored. He’s convinced I won’t pay the rent and he’ll have to put it on the market soon.

  I want to ask her about her baby, but I tamp down the urge. The less I know, the better. Sighing my frustration, I start the engine and head home. I’m so ready for this to be over with. Once I deliver the money, I’ll forget I ever heard of Celeste Carver.

  Chapter Ten

  Calder

  While I’ve got a few minutes between meetings, I walk over to Elijah’s office and pop my head in. “You have a minute, Elijah?”

  He glances up from his keyboard, dark eyebrows pulled together in intense concentration. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Do you want me to sign your paycheck?”

  Elijah snaps the laptop closed and laces his fingers behind his head. “What can I do for you?”

  I briefly explain what’s been happening with Cass’s credit card company. “The first time, the thieves bought a bunch of gift cards with her stolen credit card info, making it difficult to trace back to the source. This time around, a new credit card was opened in her name, but the credit card company refused to give her much detail, other than a couple of stores the person hit. I don’t trust that they’ve got the problem fixed. If I give you Cass’s card details, can you do me a favor and poke around in the credit card company’s system. See what you can come up with. Or any other purchases we might be able to run down. These assholes are messing with Cass’s credit and I want it stopped.”

  “Sure, give me her info and I’ll start digging after I get this project done.”

  Nodding, I look for a pen on his desk. “You don’t have a pen?”

  He opens his laptop and hovers his fingers over the keys. “I’ve never needed one. What’s the number?”

  “I memorized it, but I’ll need to write it down to make sure I’ve remembered it correctly.” I pivot and enter Ben’s empty office to grab a pen off his desk, but pause when I recognize Cass’s handwriting on a note she’d left for him. What the hell?

  Reading over her note, I look at the lab report underneath and frown. What’s she up to? She told me she’s determined to restart her photography business, so why is she asking Ben to interpret lab results from an old BLACK Security case? And who is
the lab report for?

  “You coming back?” Elijah calls.

  “Yeah, be right there.” Grabbing a pen, I walk out of Ben’s office.

  After I leave Elijah, I stop by Talia’s and knock on her open door. “Hey, Talia. Do you know anything about a lab report Cass asked Ben to interpret for her?”

  Talia glances at her watch and says in a low voice, “Is Ben here yet? He should be coming in soon.”

  I shake my head and step into her office, shutting the door behind me. “What’s this about? Who is that report for?”

  She shuts her laptop and folds her hands underneath her chin. “Cass is worried about Beth’s health. She said she looks exhausted and she’s not sure it’s all due to taking over as CEO of Carver Enterprises. So she asked me if we ever got the lab results back from Celeste’s blood work we had done to prove her baby’s paternity. At the time, Cass had also requested to check on her general health status in her blood work as well, since that’s the excuse we gave Beth for requesting the sample.”

  I instantly tense. I hate the idea of Cass inquiring about anything related to Celeste, but since Talia doesn’t know Celeste is still alive, I can’t bounce my concerns off her. Knowing that Celeste had just tried to get in touch with Cass, but got shut down, I question the reason my fiancée gave for asking about this report. “I see. Looks like I missed Cass stopping by earlier. Where did she go after she left here?”

  Talia folds her arms across her laptop. “She planned on meeting Beth for lunch.”

  “They just had lunch together yesterday.” I frown, my suspicious instincts kicking in stronger.

  “Apparently that’s when Cass noticed how tired Beth looked. She seemed genuinely concerned, Calder. Hopefully Ben can set her mind at ease once he looks over Celeste’s results. And, by the way, we’re keeping who this blood work belongs to just between us, okay? It might upset Ben if he realizes it’s Celeste’s.”

  I shrug. “I’m pretty sure he can handle it, but whatever you think.”

  When I turn to open the door, Talia says, “I see you and Cass made the paper today.”

  “Don’t get me started.” Grunting my annoyance, I face her as she comes around her desk. “The only good thing that came out of that ambush yesterday was that it made sending out an engagement announcement unnecessary.”

  Talia rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you were going to do that anyway, but yeah, I don’t think Cass liked being caught by surprise. She asked for ways to know if she’s being followed, so I gave her some ideas on detecting a tail and also how to identify them. I told her if she’s ever concerned at all, to call us.”

  “Exactly,” I say with a curt nod. “The paparazzi are annoying gnats, always waiting to get right in your face. I’m not sure anyone is truly ready for their dogged craziness, but thanks for giving Cass pointers. I should’ve prepared her for the onslaught. Her life is about to change as a Blake, but awareness of one’s surroundings is incredibly important regardless. At least now, she’ll be better prepared when she’s out in public.”

  Talia’s phone buzzes and she leans over to grab it from her desk, then turns the screen my way so I can read the text.

  Tell Calder to stop socializing and get his ass in here for this meeting.

  “Let Rainbow Master know I’m coming.” I snort. “Can’t wait to rib him about that one.”

  “Gah, do men ever grow out of giving each other a hard time?”

  “Are you kidding?” I flash a grin and open the door. “We live for that shit.”

  On my way to Sebastian’s office I send Cass a text.

  Your request for Ben to evaluate that blood work better be related to your concern for Beth.

  She quickly responds.

  I am worried about Beth. We had to cut lunch short because she suddenly didn’t feel well.

  I’m sure she’ll be fine. Ben will get back to you. See you tonight in SoHo.

  I’m not coming to your ex’s event.

  You’re coming to support me. Hitting send, I walk into Sebastian’s office.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cass

  I finish up the project I’ve been working on and put the glue, brushes, and paint away. After getting Calder’s last text, I pulled out my supplies to distract myself from the annoyance. Ugh, the nerve of that man. I couldn’t believe him insisting that I go to this woman’s book celebration under the guise of supporting him? Pffft As if!

  My phone rings and I quickly pick it up when I see it’s an international call.

  “Hello?”

  “How’s my baby girl?” Dad booms. “I got your message and called you the moment we got cell service.”

  My fingers dig into my phone. “What’s going on, Dad? Why are both your house and business phones saying they’re disconnected? Did the forwarding company you hired screw up?”

  “In case you’re wondering, your mom and I are having a great time.”

  “Uh, I’m sorry. You know I want to know all about your trip, but why are you so calm about this?”

  “Well, that’s probably because I cancelled the service.”

  My heart jerks in shock. “But…why would you do that?”

  “Because the business kept getting harder and harder to keep up, and your mom suggested it was time for me to retire. I finally agreed. So I sold my business and we put the house on the market, which sold in a matter of days, I might add. So I guess, technically, we’re currently homeless.”

  “What!” My whole body flushes with anger, shock, and sadness. “I loved that Hamptons house, Dad. Why in the world did you sell it? If you needed money…I could’ve helped pay bills. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “Calm down, Cass. I didn’t tell you because we wanted to surprise you once we got back.”

  “I’m surprised all right.” I furrow my brow in confusion. “Wait, tell me what?”

  “That we’re moving to the city to be closer to you, sweetie!” Mom calls out in the background.

  My father chuckles. “She’s excited about the mother-daughter shopping you two will do—”

  “And baby clothes shopping,” Mom interrupts. “I can’t wait to be a grand-mo-ther,” she sing-songs.

  “Mom. Usually the wedding comes first. You’re really jumping the gun.”

  “Put it on speaker, honey,” Mom says in the background. Once Dad does as she asks, her voice comes through louder. “Yes, yes. I know. I’m excited about the wedding too. Speaking of which, have you set a date?”

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Well thank goodness for that. Hopefully it’ll be after we’re settled in our new house in the city.”

  “Though I’m a bit sad about you selling the house, I’m glad you’re going to be closer,” I say, my stomach twisting. Mom sounds so excited about being a grandmother. “At least now Dad can have all that downtime he deserves. Are you having a great time on your trip?”

  “We’re having a wonderful time,” they both say, making me smile.

  “How about an October wedding, Cass? On the eleventh, maybe?” Mom says, sounding wistful.

  Sophie’s birthday. How I wish my sister could be here to tell me all my worries about the future are silly. Sadness and nostalgia well up, making it hard to speak for a second. Before I can reply, the doorbell rings. “Oh, someone’s at the door. I’ve got to go, Mom and Dad. Keep in touch and let me know how it’s going.”

  “Will do. Love you, baby girl.”

  “Love you, dear.”

  “Love you both,” I say as I walk toward the front door.

  Hanging up, I peer outside, then open the door. “Hey, Ben. Don’t you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

  He glances down at his charcoal-gray suit and blue tie, then slides his hands in his pockets. “I had a meeting with the hospital board to give them an update on my program for the Vets.” He smiles and rocks on his dress shoe heels. “I’m happy to report they’re pleased and have approved another year.”

  �
��That’s fantastic! Congratulations.”

  He nods and grins. “Though I appreciate the congrats, I didn’t drive out here for that.” Pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, he holds it up. “I wanted to talk to you about this lab report.”

  “Come in.” As he steps inside, I wave toward the paint paraphernalia near the kitchen. “You’ll have to excuse the place. We’ve been renovating. Thank goodness it’s almost done.”

  “Where’s Calder?”

  “He has an event to attend tonight,” I say, gesturing for him to follow me.

  “That’s right. Saw something in the news about it. Why aren’t you going?” He follows me to the kitchen and sets the paper down on the counter.

  “It’s a commitment he made, so he has to show up for it.” I shrug, then point to the paper. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here to tell me about the report though. You could’ve just called.”

  Ben shakes his head, his dark eyebrows pulling together. “This seemed important to you, so I wanted to give you an answer in person.” Pointing to the data, he says, “Whomever this person is, she’s got some health problems.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “How do you know it’s a she?”

  “A guess. I had a fifty-fifty shot.” He smirks and points to the left side of the page. “Her white blood cell count is low, indicating a possible autoimmune disease.” His finger slides to another section. “And here, this erythrocyte sedimentation rate indicates an infection, possible inflammatory condition, or in an extreme case, cancer. Many more tests would need to be run to determine exactly what kind of issues this woman has.”

  “So you can’t give any type of diagnosis from the data that’s provided here?” I ask, trying to keep my frustration at the lack of information from my voice.

  His brow furrows. “Is there a particular diagnosis you were expecting?”

  “I don’t know. You mentioned autoimmune, so possibly something like Lupus?”

  “If they had run an ANA—antinuclear antibody—test, a positive result could lean toward Lupus. I’d like to spend a bit more time looking over it and conferring with a colleague. Do you know who this is, Cass?” Ben asks, picking up the paper.