by Robin Caroll
“One of the tasks for her possible promotion in your PR firm was to cook?” Danielle’s expression showed her emotions very clearly, even more than her pointed question served with a side of sarcasm.
“She had to make the dinner for all of us.” Tim nodded. “Oh, you’d think that the tasks would be all focused on work stuff, right?” He shook his head. “That’s what made the game so amazing. They took all the data we’d supplied them and uncovered all the weak spots of everyone, then set up tasks that would expose that weakness. Brilliant, really.”
“Of course, since Mr. Thibodeaux had been married to Anna Belle, it’s not a far reach to think he’d know whether she could cook or not, right?” Danielle asked.
Tim frowned. “I suppose that’s true.” He lifted his chin. “But he wasn’t married to the other three, and he exposed their weak spots just as effectively.”
“Why don’t you tell us what their tasks were?” Brandon prodded.
“Of course. Let’s see, let me start with Wednesday night, the first ones. As Colton explained, these were to really knock the competitors off balance, take them off their game, so to speak.” Tim smiled, a genuine smile.
He really enjoyed pitting them against each other and airing their weakest moments. Brandon thought that said a lot about him as a person.
“As I said, Anna Belle had to cook for the whole group. Crawfish étouffée, and she doesn’t know how to cook. Then there was Georgia’s task. She was supposed to change the oil in the car in the garage.” He chuckled. “Georgia hates being dirty. Is almost crazy about getting anything under her nails. I’d bet that woman spends half her paycheck at the nail place.”
Both of those sounded pretty harmless and almost like juvenile sorority pranks.
“Now Franklin was tasked with cleaning out the indoor fish pool that was in a room on the back of the house that looked almost like a conservatory.”
Brandon remembered. It looked creepy to him.
“Franklin can’t stand anything slimy and really doesn’t tolerate anything with seaweed or algae that can touch him.” Tim snickered. “Finally, there was Hugh, who had to go up on the widow’s walk to sweep. He’s scared of heights.”
Nothing really harmful, but some fears were so intense that people became physically ill as a result.
“So everyone went to do their tasks?” Brandon asked.
Tim nodded. “Everyone was sent to do their thing at two on the dot, and they had time limits. Anna Belle had to have dinner ready by five. The rest of them were supposed to be done before then and in the dining room no later than five fifteen for dinner.” He chuckled. “They were all working, not doing so well, when the fire alarm sounded at four forty.”
“What happened?” Danielle asked. “Did Anna Belle catch the kitchen on fire?”
“No, there was no fire. See, that’s part of the beauty. It was all planned to make them all think there was a fire, and to assume it was Anna Belle’s fault.”
Confused, Brandon asked. “There wasn’t a fire?”
Tim shook his head. “No, it was part of the game.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “They arranged for a fire truck to come, firemen to rush into the house and everything. It was great.”
“All so everyone would blame Anna Belle?” Danielle asked.
“You’re missing the point. They were finishing up their tasks, and this really threw them off. The alarm shocked them all, and their reactions? Well, that was one of the points.”
“Explain, please.” Brandon couldn’t grasp the importance, but then again, he was a much simpler man than those in the PR field apparently were.
“When the alarm went off, naturally Anna Belle thought it was her fault. She looked around the kitchen, but there was nothing burning or spilling over or anything. So she was confused.”
“You were in the kitchen with her?” Brandon asked.
Tim shook his head. “That’s when we were in the room with the game people watching the monitors. We were told to be there at four thirty-five, so we were.”
“So you were watching her on the monitor?” Danielle prompted.
Tim nodded. “Right. Anna Belle was moving around all frantically. I’d never seen her look so panicked as she checked the oven, the stove, then the oven again.” He grinned. “She really freaked when they turned on the smoke.”
“Turned on the smoke?” Danielle glanced at Brandon, her incredulous expression matching what had to be his.
“Yeah, they had some cool smoke machines they’d set up in certain places, and at four forty-three they all went on and smoke started filling certain areas of the house. Like the kitchen, the conservatory room, the room you use to go out to the widow’s walk, and the garage.”
“All rooms where the four were.” Brandon made notes, as did his partner.
“Right.” Tim continued. “So naturally they all thought the house was on fire and started to try and get out. That’s where it got really interesting.”
“How’s that?” Danielle asked.
“Well, Anna Belle turned and ran to the front door, but it was dead-bolted and she didn’t have a key. It was one of those that had a keyhole on either side. She tried several times to open it, even though she had to have realized it was locked the first time she tried it, but she tried again and again. Panicking.”
Tim sure seemed to enjoy others’ fear.
“She finally turned and ran to the back door on the other side of the house. At the same time, Georgia tried to get out of the garage, but that door was locked too. She beat on it and kicked it.” Tim shook his head but smiled. “Her determination or fear, either-or, had her pick up the metal trash can and break through the only window to get out. It was resourceful of her, but as soon as she stepped out, she started sinking.”
“Sinking?” Danielle asked.
Tim nodded, still grinning. “The game people had put something outside the door and the window that imitated quicksand or something. You really didn’t sink more than six or seven inches, but if you’re already scared, that would freak you out. It did Georgia, that’s for sure. She started hollering like crazy.”
“I can imagine.” Danielle’s tone clearly stated she was not amused by the tactics, nor by his obvious amusement at his employees’ fear and trials.
“Meanwhile, Hugh was hollering from the widow’s walk because that turret room was really filled with smoke and it was locked from the hallway, and there were no stairs down from the widow’s walk.”
Brandon could only imagine how he’d feel in a situation like that—trapped, with no obvious way out. He resisted the urge to shudder.
“Franklin was trapped in the conservatory,” Tim continued, “and I thought for sure he’d just pass out. He beat on the door going out, like, for a good couple of minutes. Then he surprised me. He turned back to the house and tried that door. It was unlocked of course, so he ran into the house and to the closest door outside, the back door that Anna Belle had left standing wide open.”
“So Anna Belle and Franklin were outside, right?” Danielle asked.
Tim nodded. “So was Georgia, but she was stuck in the quicksand stuff. Franklin heard Hugh hollering, so he ran that way, saw the ladder that had been leaning against the garage, grabbed it, and put it up so Hugh could get down. I was really impressed with his resourcefulness.”
“What about Georgia and Anna Belle?” Brandon asked.
“Well, Anna Belle saw Georgia, who hollered at Anna Belle to come help her, but Anna Belle just headed toward the fire truck that had just arrived.”
“Anna Belle didn’t help Georgia?” Danielle asked.
Tim shook his head. “No. I mean, she was still upset and everything herself and was probably confused with all the activity and alarms.”
Still making excuses for her behavior. Yeah, the guy was still in love with her. Brandon made a note while Tim continued.
“So, Hugh and Franklin turned back and went around the house toward Georgia, I’m as
suming to go help her, but the fake fireman already had pulled her out and had her in the street with Anna Belle. Once Hugh and Franklin joined them, and the game people had turned off the smoke machines and sucked up the smoke with fans, we were told it was okay to go tell them that the house was cleared. The fake firemen left, and everyone went back into the house.” He grinned. “Georgia was mad at Anna Belle, but everyone really was annoyed with her because they all thought she’d caused a fire while cooking. And whatever she’d left on the stove when she ran out had scorched to the bottom of the pan and filled the downstairs with that burning-food smell, so even though she denied causing a fire, no one believed her.”
Wow. This game stuff was more complicated than Brandon would’ve ever imagined.
“But what they didn’t know is the fake firemen had brought in a setup from the local deli, so we were able to eat. At the meal, I told the four of them that only Hugh had been successful in his task because he’d actually finished cleaning off the widow’s walk. That made the other three more than a little annoyed at him, to be sure. They didn’t show it much in front of me though.”
“But you all had dinner together?” Danielle asked.
Tim sat back in his chair. “We did. It wasn’t étouffée, but the sandwiches and potato salad were pretty tasty. We had cookies for dessert.”
Brandon could really care less what they ate.
“We were done by six, and I told everyone to go to their rooms to be ready for the next day’s tasks, which they would receive at breakfast at eight. They were reminded again about no technology except in their rooms and told not to be late. Everyone left to go to their own rooms.”
“And you?” Brandon asked.
“Emmi and I cleaned up the kitchen, then we went to our suite. We took showers, then watched a little TV before going to bed around ten or so.”
“Nothing else happened that night?” Danielle asked.
“Well, yeah. The snake.”
Ah, yes. The snake. Brandon tapped his pen against the notebook. “Tell me about the snake.”
“Well, the game people knew Franklin was terrified of snakes, from the forms that everybody submitted. So one of those employees snuck in while Franklin was in the shower and put a snake in his bed.” Tim laughed, even slapping the desk. “That guy screamed louder than a girl when he found it.”
“I would imagine finding a snake in your bed would make just about anybody scream,” Danielle said.
“I don’t know about that, but he screamed and got us all there. Hugh got the snake and took it outside and let it loose.”
“And after that?” Danielle asked.
Tim shrugged. “It was going to be an early morning, so we all went back to our rooms after Hugh came back inside.”
“Nothing else for the rest of the night? Or was there something else planned?” Brandon asked.
Tim shook his head. “If anything happened, I wasn’t aware of it. I don’t remember if anything was planned or not. You’d have to ask the game company.”
There were so many questions Brandon planned to ask Colton and especially Grayson. So many.
Grayson welcomed the silence of his house now that Pam had gone to pick up dinner for them. Not that he didn’t appreciate her help and support—he just needed a few minutes with himself. His emotions were so raw that he wasn’t sure what he felt. On one hand, he felt the loss of Anna Belle so deeply, more than when she’d left him. The finality of her being gone scraped against his very spirit. Yet, on the other hand, his feelings over her affair and abortion were stronger than he’d realized. He’d compartmentalized—he could recognize that—and put away the enormous rage and pain over the betrayals. Now it was as if they were slapped back in his face.
He had to deal with them. Had to process his emotions. As a psychologist, he knew this. He had to forgive Anna Belle for her betrayals. Had to accept what she’d done. As a Christian, he knew this. As a man, he wanted none of it.
The doorbell disturbed the argument he was having with himself.
Jerking the door open, Grayson expected Pam. It wasn’t. Monique Fredericks stood on his doorstep with a roll-on suitcase.
“I’m sorry to bother you twice in one day,” Monique apologized.
“You’re no bother.” Grayson pushed the door open wider. “Come in.” He reached for the suitcase and pulled it inside after her. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” He led her into the kitchen where he’d been sitting … thinking … praying.
“Oh no. Not this late in the day. I’d be awake all night.” Monique took a seat atop one of the barstools.
“Water? Tea?”
“No, honey, I’m fine. I don’t plan to stay long.”
Grayson stood on the other side of the island, facing her, and leaned to be more at her eye level. He refrained from saying anything, knowing the woman would speak her mind without request.
“That was left for me at my hotel today.” She nodded at the suitcase. “I just got back in, and it was delivered up to my room. It’s Anna Belle’s.”
He nodded. “I know. I bought it for her as a gift when she was promoted to senior account rep.” He’d taken her out to eat, then dancing to celebrate. When they’d returned home, he’d given her the suitcase, and they’d slow danced barefoot and barely dressed in the kitchen by candlelight.
“I thought maybe the police had sent it over, then realized that couldn’t be. I’m meeting with them tomorrow morning, and they would just bring it with them.”
Grayson nodded. The police didn’t make it a habit to just send over personal items like that. At least none of the officers he’d worked with.
“Then I thought maybe the hospital had forgotten to give it to me when I went to identify the body, but I didn’t think so. They gave me the jewelry and clothes she’d been wearing when she was brought in by ambulance and had me sign some papers to take them.”
Grayson nodded again. This wasn’t making sense.
“So I called the front desk and asked who’d left it, and nobody seems to know. Just that it was there with my name on it.”
“What’s in it?” Grayson stared at the suitcase. Who would send it to Monique without letting her know who it was from? Who knew who she was and where she was staying?
“I don’t know. I was a little apprehensive about opening it.”
“You haven’t looked inside?”
“No. I brought it here. I thought you and I could open it together.” The hope in her voice was unmistakable.
“Of course.” He reached for the handle and lifted it onto the island. Slowly, he unzipped the front pocket. Clothes spilled out. Anna Belle’s clothes. Underwear, T-shirt, bra, tank top. All with the scent of Chanel No. 5.
Grayson let out a slow breath and steadied himself. He could almost hear Anna Belle’s laughter as a memory accosted him. It was right after they’d married, and they were in one of many department stores in the mall, taking back one of the duplicate wedding gifts they’d received.
“What about this one?” Anna Belle sprayed the tester perfume in the air in front of his face.
The smell stung his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose and waved his hand in front of him to get rid of the stench. “Not that one. It’s way too strong.”
“Perfume’s supposed to be strong. The good ones anyway. So they’ll last.” Anna Belle lifted another bottle and sprayed in the air. She sniffed. “Not bad. What do you think?”
It wasn’t too overpowering. Not like the other one. He reached for the box and took in the price and really almost gagged. “I think for that price it ought to cook dinner for us too.”
Anna Belle laughed, that free-spirited giggle that was uniquely hers. “Don’t look at the price, Grayson. Smell. Feel. Perfume’s all about the floral notes and how they make you feel.” She grabbed another bottle and sprayed, then sniffed. “Ooh, I like this one.”
Despite the prices, he couldn’t deny her. Not when she was so happy. He sniffed and appreciated the scent. Vanilla. Jas
mine. Musk. And amber? It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes and inhaled again.
Anna Belle’s tinkling laugh opened his eyes. “Oh, you like this one, huh?”
“It does smell nice.” Alluring. Enticing. Sexy.
“Then this shall be my signature perfume. I shall only wear this.” She lifted the bottle and read. “Chanel No. 5.”
“How much is it?”
Anna Belle pressed her finger against his lips. “Shh. Don’t be so crude as to ask the price of my appeal.”
He chuckled but still tried to reach for the bottle’s box. “Anna Belle.”
“No. This is for me. Something that’s all mine. Whenever you smell it, you’ll think of me and only me.” She smiled that smile that almost always made his knees go weak. “Forever and ever.”
Grayson swallowed back the memory. Forever and ever was the truth. Even now, after all she’d done, the scent lingered in her clothes and made him think of her. His heart ached.
“What’s in the small pocket?” Monique snapped him back to the task at hand.
He unzipped the small front pocket of the suitcase. He pulled out Anna Belle’s makeup case with its familiar ninja cartoon character. He had made such fun of her buying that, but she said it made her feel like a woman ninja, capable of anything.
Grayson unzipped it and dumped the contents onto the island. Amid brushes and cosmetics was a bottle of Benadryl and her EpiPen. He lifted the Epi, realizing that what he held in his hand could have saved Anna Belle’s life had she been able to get to it in time. Why hadn’t she?
“Was that missing?” Monique asked.
“I don’t know. She always knew the early symptoms and would’ve gone immediately for this. I don’t know why she didn’t this time. There wasn’t one found in her room, and she clearly didn’t inject herself.” Questions and more questions, that’s all he seemed to get.
He scooped up all the makeup and the Epi and put it back in the ninja bag and closed it. He reached for the main zipper.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
