Losing Ladd

by Dianne Venetta

  “And that would lead you to the person responsible?”

  “It will get us closer. I expect whoever managed to rig this device isn’t stupid.” Turning the metal cover plate in his hand, he said, “It’s likely they used a phone solely for this purpose. My guess is it’s attached to phony account.”

  “Of course,” Malcolm said, disappointed by the realization he was no closer to finding out who did this than before. He wanted to give the officer a few suggestions on where to begin and who to question but thought it unwise at this time. Let the police take the lead. There was time later to assist, if needed. “Which makes it all the more difficult to discover who’s responsible.”

  The man brightened. “On the contrary. The method of operation and the means used to set off the device can tell us a lot. How they set up the fuse, the material used... If they’ve done this before, we can connect the pieces used at this bomb site to others done in a similar way. By analyzing the data, you’d be surprised at what we can track down in terms of the parties responsible. Sometimes even tracing the tape used in this explosion can lead us to a particular manufacturer, a point of sale, possible DNA...” He shook his head, adding, “It’s not time to give up hope yet.”

  Malcolm thought he must look as gloomy as he felt for the weathered old police officer to act as a cheerleader for hope. But, dammit, he couldn’t help it. Casting a weary gaze over the debris, add the dislocated animals and their injuries, the problems this created for his business and Malcolm couldn’t help but feel down. Trace the manufacturer of a scrap of half-blown away tape? That was his big hope? Malcolm sighed. “Thank you, Officer. I appreciate your efforts.”

  “No problem. I’ll let you know when we have something more definitive.”

  “Yes, please do.”

  Suddenly drained of energy, Malcolm ambled toward the barn. He needed to make another check on the animals, clarify their health and ability to accommodate guests. He and Cal had decided against cancelling the trail rides, aiming to get back to normal as soon as possible but at this rate, they might have to. No one was going to want to walk by this mess, nor did he want them to. It was a sledgehammer to the mood and exactly the opposite of what a “serenity stay” meant. Heaving a heavy breath, he walked by a pen where several horses idled about, a single male staff member among them. The stable hand was standing between horses, holding blue nylon rope leads close. Not sure what he was doing, Malcolm neared. A black cowboy hat popped up, the man’s face becoming fully visible over the animal’s body. Realizing it was Troy, Malcolm detoured over.

  “Troy.”

  The young man turned, a sudden guilt gripping his features. “Mr. Ward.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Concern tightened in his dark eyes. “I was walkin’ the horses, checking them out. I’m sorry about spending so much time on the property, Mr. Ward, but I’ve got to be here. I know I’m not official or anything but I can’t sit home and do nothin’.”

  “I understand. How’s it going?”

  “Not good. The horses are still a bit spooked, Spirit especially.”

  “That’s the one you’ve been working?”

  “Yes, sir. The men told me you and Mr. Foster haven’t cancelled the trail rides for this afternoon but I’d have to advise you to cancel.”

  “You would?”

  “I would. These animals have been through a lot. They’ve lost their home, their peace of mind. I think I’d give them a while. I know it’s not good for business,” he added quickly, “But that’s just my feelin’ on the subject.”

  Malcolm paused, settling on Troy. The kid had a sixth sense when it came to the animals. If he didn’t think they were ready, that’s all Malcolm needed. “Then we’ll cancel the trail rides.”

  “Sir?”

  “I trust your judgment.”

  Like an eraser, Malcolm’s show of confidence removed all doubt from Troy’s expression. “Thank you, sir.”

  Glancing about the immediate vicinity, Malcolm dropped his voice and said, “Listen, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  Troy walked closer, horses in tow, closing the space to a mere fence line. The horses stood idle but their eyes were keen on Malcolm. Once again, the severity of the incident hit hard.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We need to discuss your trial. It’s set for next week, but we need to look into a continuance.”

  “A continuance? What for?”

  “On account of your star witness is lying in a coma.”

  “Oh no...” Troy absorbed the significance. It was the instant vulnerability of a child who’d just learned the worst. “She isn’t gettin’ any better?”

  “Not yet, and the doctors can’t give us any more detail other than she has swelling in her brain and it’s serious. They might have to take her to surgery.” Troy looked away, clearly pained by the news. “I’m sorry, Troy. I know you two are close.”

  “She’s like a momma to me,” he murmured, refusing to make eye contact.

  She was also the key to his freedom in his case against Jack Foster. “I’ll keep you posted on her condition, but I wanted you to be aware of what was going on with your case.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Troy hauled his gaze back to Malcolm, his eyes glistening beneath the shadow of his black hat. “I appreciate everything you and Mr. Harris are doing on my behalf.”

  “Wouldn’t think of doing anything less.” Malcolm was only sorry Troy’s parents hadn’t been more supportive in the beginning, but now that he and Nick had hired the big guns, the Parkers were fully vested. Not that Malcolm could blame them. Of modest means, they couldn’t afford to hire the kind of legal team he and Nick could, but more, they were caught in the middle of small town family feud. Delaney had given him a rundown of the players and positions. The Parkers were friends with the Ladds, but they were also friendly with the Shores. The Shores were friends and allies with the Fosters, their son, Officer Gavin, the tool being used as a wedge between Jack and Delaney. While Delaney and Gavin went way back, he held a grudge against Nick and Malcolm for not revealing Jeremiah’s gambling troubles. Gavin could have rounded him up but instead had to receive the order from his commanding officer. His ego had taken a hit.

  Across the board, loyalties were being tested, morality was being fought, and all for public consumption. If Jack Foster didn’t drop his charges against Troy, the Fosters would have to own up to the ugly behavior of their son, Jack. The Shores would be caught in the middle, but either way Troy could end up in jail. “He said-she said” didn’t sell well in a courtroom stacked against you.

  Overwhelmed by the slate of negativity, Malcolm brushed it from his mind. Right about now he needed a dose of positivity, and there was no better place for that than at home with his wife, Lacy. He swore her spirit was loaded up with enough to cleanse the whole town of this rotten business! “Anyway, I wanted you to know. Once Delaney’s out of the hospital, we can go forward.”

  In Troy’s gaze Malcolm felt the brunt of what was left unsaid. If Delaney didn’t make it, Troy could be going to jail for a very long time.

  Chapter Twenty

  Felicity stood outside the hotel room, riddled with doubt. The air around her was mired in a mix of heat, warm rubber, exhaust fumes and dead calm, making the seconds drag by as she waited. His truck was here. He was here. Would he answer the door?

  Biting her lower lip, she wondered about this encounter as she stared at the tan-painted metal door, the peep hole he might very well be staring through this minute. What if he didn’t let her in? What if he didn’t fall for the ruse? He could get mean. He could take it out on her. Felicity’s heart thwacked with an irregular kick. But he wouldn’t hurt her—she was his daughter, his own flesh and blood. Spouses had issues that parents and children didn’t. He wouldn’t do anything to harm her. After all, he’s the one who championed the value of family, of blood kin. He was the one who insisted she should meet with her grandparents and rebuild their relationsh
ip. Why would he doubt her now?

  He had no idea what she knew. He’d regard her as an innocent. So long as she acted innocent. Her spirits drooped. But it looked as though she’d never get the opportunity to find out. As she turned away, the door swung open and a look of shock burst into Jack Foster’s eyes. He searched up and down the sidewalk, his brown eyes registering her presence with obvious uncertainty. “Felicity. What are you doing here?”

  Swallowing hard, she was overcome by a waft of his cologne. Rich and expensive, it underscored the slacks and tailored button-down he wore, the tan color glimmering like satin cream in the sun. “I came to see you,” she replied softly, her voice overwhelmed by the engine of a passing truck.

  Breaking into a friendly smile, he welcomed her heartily, “I’m glad you’re here, but I wished you would have called. We could have met somewhere...more suitable.”

  “No—this is fine,” she said.

  A hint of suspicion moved between them, and Felicity wished she hadn’t spoken so quickly.

  Eyeing her a bit more guardedly, he offered, “I guess I should ask you to come in.”

  “Thanks.” Hesitating, she reprimanded herself to come across more sincerely. This was never going to work if she didn’t watch her every word!

  Walking in, Felicity remained very aware of his nearness. This was his space. His personal space, cramped and transitory as it was. Beds were made, but littered with her father’s belongings. A suitcase sat open on a luggage rack in the closet. Papers lay strewn over the guest room desk, a black computer bag sat off to one side of his open laptop. Felicity gulped. Was he researching his case against Troy?

  Nonchalantly as she could, she sniffed the air for the scent of smoke. His clothes would have reeked from the blaze. Hers had.

  “Something wrong?”

  “What?” She tried to dish out a smile. “No. I just thought I smelled something.”

  “Something in particular?” he asked.

  “No, of course not.” A flutter of doubt flitted through her heart. Was he taunting her? Did he know that she knew?

  “So tell me,” he asked, a trace of humor in his voice, “what really brings you by?”

  “Well,” she began, trying to begin as she rehearsed on the way over. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the importance of family and what you said about us being close.”

  Dark eyes dancing, he arched a brow but said nothing.

  “I know you and my mom have had your problems, but that shouldn’t prevent us from trying to have a relationship.”

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” he said with a healthy dose of skepticism in his gaze.

  “I know.” She gave a few quick nods of her head, brushed her hair behind an ear. Hugging arms to her body, she reminded herself to remember this was a man familiar with the seedy side of people. He was street smart and savvy. If she didn’t keep her story as close to the truth as possible, he’d see right through her. “I don’t think I really understood what you meant until my mom wound up in the hospital.”

  “Your mom is in the hospital?”

  Struck by the tone of his reaction, Felicity almost believed his surprise was genuine. “Y-yes,” she stumbled, trying to read his response. “She got hurt in the fire last night.”

  “What fire?”

  “The one at the stables.”

  “What happened? Someone drop a match in a hay bale?”

  Try lighter, she mused bitterly, irritated by the continuation of his act. Of course he knew. The least he could do was pretend to be upset for show!

  Chuckling softly, he said, “Can’t be too careful about who you hire these days.”

  She wanted to slap the smirk clear off his face. His callous disregard for her mother’s well-being was unbelievable. Unconscionable! But seriously, had she expected anything less? If the man was willing to attack his ex-wife, set the stables on fire, potentially harming the horses, compassion for others would be last on his list. But Felicity refused to be put off from her mission. She was here for a reason. A reason that included pinning him with the responsibility he deserved. “Yes, well, it was horrible. She got hurt when one of the beams fell down.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” he said, strolling to the opposite side of the far double bed.

  Looking around the room for clues—his clothes from yesterday, something, anything—she continued cautiously, watching for signs of his acceptance of her lead. “Like I said, it makes you realize the importance of family. I guess it got me to thinking about you and Troy and...” Unsettled by the rigid edge that had entered his stance, Felicity persisted in her ruse. There was no going back now. “Well, I’ve been thinking how unfortunate the situation is.”

  “Your friend is a punk and I intend to teach him a lesson.”

  Felicity steeled her emotions against the insult. He was the punk, not Troy.

  “And listen, about your mother,” he said, not breaking stride. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but he might have something going on with her.”

  Felicity gaped at him. “What?”

  A glimmer lit up his dark eyes as he smiled. “He was with her that night in the stables. It’s why he shot me, to prevent me from talking. Did she tell you? Did he?”

  Troy and her mother? That was ludicrous—he was in love with Casey!

  The pounding at the door stopped Felicity’s heart. Was that Jillian?

  Jack slid a wary gaze to the door then back to Felicity. “Expecting someone?”

  “Me? No, of course not,” she snapped. Heart-pounding, she walled off her eyes from seeking the door.

  “Funny. Neither am I,” he said and strode across the room.

  Felicity suddenly felt trapped, like this had been a mistake. It never occurred to her that Jillian Devane might walk in while she was here. No telling what she’d do if she found Delaney Wilkins’ daughter outside the protective shield of her mother—not to mention Felicity would lose all hope of finding evidence.

  Jack opened the door.

  Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. What had she been thinking?

  “Felicity,” Travis expelled breathlessly.

  Jack flashed back to her. “If this is your idea of a game, I'm not amused.”

  Travis stepped in between them. “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

  Jack glowered at him and demanded, “Thought you could put your girlfriend up to conning me out of putting your brother away?” Brown eyes glinted. “Bad move. He’s going away for a long time, leaving you on my radar.” He snickered. “Which means I’d be careful if I were you.”

  Reeling from the unexpected sight of her boyfriend, she cried out, “Travis didn’t know anything about this! I came here on my own. Honest.”

  Her father cocked his head. “Nice try.” Grabbing the door knob, he said, “But if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do.”

  Standing with a hand to the door, his dismissal was clear. Stuck in time, Felicity hung in place. Should she leave? Try and stay? How did he know where to find her? Why had he barged in on them?

  “I’m not messing around,” Jack said, directing his animosity to her.

  Swallowing against the rock in her throat, she slinked by him, avoiding his heated gaze as she passed. There was no way she could salvage her case now. He wouldn’t believe another word she said!

  Travis followed her out and the door slammed closed. “What the hell were you thinking, coming to see your father?”

  Anger flared hot in her breast. “I was here looking for evidence! Until you barged in, that is. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “What evidence?”

  “Setting the fire?” Hello? Had he been knocked stupid? “Malcolm and Nick think Jillian had something to do with the fire and that my father is hooked up with her. Makes sense he had something to do with it, don’t you think?”

  “No I don’t ‘think’ and neither are you.” Travis whipped a gaze to the closed door. “You don’t know what you’re doing
coming here like this. Your father doesn’t mess around.”

  “He’s not going to hurt me,” she asserted, not fully convinced of what she was saying but angry that Travis didn’t trust her. All he cared about was telling her how wrong she was to have tried—which she wasn’t. “If he had something to do with the fire, his clothes would smell of smoke. There might have been evidence in his room, evidence I was in the middle of looking for until you stopped by.”

  Travis groaned aloud, then whirled on her. Running a hand through his hair, he grabbed hold of a clump, exclaiming, “You're insane! You can't do this, don't you get that? Have you forgotten what he did to your mother?”

  “I’m his daughter.” She locked arms across her chest. “Ex-wives are different.”

  “Not if he thinks you're here to convince him to drop charges against Troy, they aren’t!”

  “That was my diversion tactic so he wouldn’t be suspicious.”

  “What?” Travis closed his eyes, shook his head. “Felicity, please. You can’t do this. You’re messing with the wrong man.”

  “No. My mother is lying in a hospital bed and my father is responsible. I’m doing for her what she can’t do for herself.”

  “Let the police handle it.”

  “He’s got half the police force in his pocket! They’re not going to get anywhere with him.”

  “And neither are you.”

  Resentment split her in two. “At least I’m willing to try. I’m not going to sit on hands and wait idle while you men go around and try to figure everything out. If you hadn’t interfered, I could have learned something.”

  Travis looked into her eyes, and for the first time Felicity felt the condemnation Casey and Troy must have felt all these months. Raw and cutting, there was no doubt what Travis thought of her. He disapproved. Worse, he thought she was incompetent. “I’m not a helpless, stupid child. This is my mother and my battle,” she said, jabbing a finger to her chest. “I have my own mind and my own plan and if you disagree with it, tough. I’m finished with your protection routine.”