Unintended Detour: A Christian Suspense Novel (The Unintended Series Book 3)

by D. L. Wood

  “He was being weird, though, right?” Chloe asked, scrunching her face. “That wasn’t just me.”

  “No. It wasn’t just you. And it’s not the first weird thing I’ve found him doing,” Jack replied.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I caught him in our room a couple of days ago when I was writing in the study and went back to grab something. He said he was just checking to make sure everything was as it should be, but,” Jack shook his head, “he was standing over the vanity, like he’d been looking through the notes you’d left on it.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I just thought he was being nosy. He wasn’t actually doing anything wrong.”

  “What do you think now?”

  “I think I’m gonna make a call to Detective Yarbrough and make sure Martin’s on his radar.”

  38

  The moment Chloe stepped into the ballroom her senses were wonderfully overwhelmed. The first thing to hit her was the smooth rhythm and dulcet tones of the six-piece jazz band against the far-left wall. The jaunty melody with its deep bass foundations wrapped around her and practically carried her inside on Jack’s arm.

  They walked between the two- and four-person tables covered in white linen, surrounded by gold-framed chairs that filled the majority of the interior. Then they made their way past a buffet table that occupied the wall opposite the band, stretching the entire length of the sixty-foot room, overspread with delicacies that demanded indulgence. Rosemary-Pepper Rib Roast with Shiitake Au Jus, Grilled Oysters with Garlic Butter, Smoked Salmon with Herb Tahini, Artichoke Strata, Roasted Root vegetables, Cajun-spiced black-eyed peas…There was seemingly no end.

  A citrus champagne punch fountain with flutes arranged at its base took up one corner of the room while another held several tables loaded with desserts. There were three varieties of croquembouche towers, the classic cream-filled pastry piled gravity-defyingly high—white chocolate orange and anise, dark chocolate raspberry, and milk chocolate and vanilla. In between those were a caramel pear trifle, a lemon cheesecake, and molten chocolate lava cakes. Scattered among them all were gold and silver petit fours with the icing initials “SE” piped on top.

  A temporary parquet dance floor had been laid at the far end of the room directly before the expansive windows along the mansion’s front. This created a backdrop of the gorgeous front grounds, tonight brilliantly illuminated by seemingly every lamp and floodlight on the property. There were color-changing lights in the two reflection pools, creating wide swaths of metamorphosing hues of pink, blue, green, and yellow. The effect was stunning.

  Chloe grinned up at Jack, who grinned back. “Wow,” was all she could muster as he escorted her to their table near the band. As he pulled out her chair, she couldn’t help but feel a stab of regret that Riley wasn’t there to share this with them, or have his fun in New York, rather than still be unconscious in a hospital bed. And that Deidre wasn’t there to witness what she had worked so hard to create. Her feelings must have shown on her face, because Jack squeezed her hand.

  “Thinking about Riley?” he asked.

  “And Deidre.”

  He nodded. “Riley’s on the mend. And I’m convinced the truth will come out about Deidre eventually. Personally, I’m still in her corner. Deidre’s lawyer strikes me as a fighter. And the police are still checking out every angle.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “One thing I definitely know is that Riley wouldn’t want us to miss out because we’re agonizing over him when he’s going to be okay—not when there are drinks, food, and dancing to be had,” Jack said, casting a hand at the room.

  “No, he wouldn’t.”

  “So then,” he said, rising and extending the same hand to her, “we’d better get started.”

  The food tasted as incredible as it looked. Around eight thirty, Chloe was considering going for a third helping of another type of dessert—just a bite, she kept telling herself, although she’d said that about each one—when the announcement was made that the Stonehall Estate Gallery Exhibit was about to be unveiled. After a kind acknowledgement of not only Tara Hollis’s efforts, but also of Chloe’s work and dedication after taking over for Tara, guests were invited to explore the exhibit by rows to avoid overcrowding.

  When it was their turn, Chloe was surprised to see how special the exhibit truly looked. Even though she had been staring at it for nearly a week, there was something different about it tonight, with the curtains taken down and the use of proper lighting. The sight almost made her giddy. As they entered, Jack leaned over, his mouth hovering just at her ear, and whispered, “I am so proud of you. None of this would have been possible without you. Happy anniversary.” He kissed her ear, and she melted a little as she leaned against him. She turned, rose up on her toes, and kissed him properly before moving on.

  Guest after guest commented and whispered about how engaging, entertaining, and informative the exhibit was, and in particular, how surprising the new revelations were. But most rewarding was that people were stopping at the end section Chloe had entitled “Lily’s Legacy”—an intentional twist on the historic “Lily’s Legend.” They were pulling out their phones and scanning the QR codes for the charities Chloe had selected in the hope of fulfilling Lily and Will’s good intentions of bettering the lives of those in need. The two teens—so frustrated and tired of waiting on Lily’s father to act, waiting on someone to do something, waiting for change—had gone about meeting the needs of the world the wrong way. There was no excuse for the criminal activity they had engaged in to force a solution, and they had sadly paid the price for their bad choices. But maybe this opportunity to help in the right way would somehow bring beauty from ashes.

  Waiting.

  The word was heavy with meaning for Chloe given her season of waiting. Waiting on the family she desperately wanted. Waiting on a new job. But as she stood in the exhibit now, Lily’s Legacy felt very personal, reminding her that sometimes, for things to be done the right way, waiting was required, no matter how difficult. Right now, God was asking her to wait, and the best thing she could do was to be okay with that. Her plans might not be working out the way she had hoped, but God’s plans were unfolding exactly as he intended, on his schedule and for her best.

  I have to remember that and hold on to it. That is going to be Lily’s Legacy for me.

  Eventually they returned to the ball, and Jack pulled her to the dance floor. Together, they twirled, swayed and laughed to the music transporting them back to the days of The Great Gatsby. Chloe’s floor-length gold dress with its banded waist and cascading skirt swirled around her as she turned and spun. Every time she came back around, her eyes fell on her handsome husband in his custom-tailored tuxedo, her heart giving a little skip. The thought, he’s all mine, ran through her brain with grateful incredulity.

  They were taking a quick break, thirsty and reaching for glasses of lime-infused water, when Jack’s cell buzzed loudly. He answered the call, a wide grin spreading across his face.

  “Riley’s awake.”

  39

  Chloe and Jack flew into Riley’s hospital room, finding it already occupied by Detectives Yarbrough and Riggs. They pushed right past them, smothering their friend with long hugs, a sarcastic “what took you so long” from Jack, and exuberant countering by Riley in a raspy voice that he hadn’t been unconscious, but rather simply “taking a long nap.”

  An impatient Detective Yarbrough insisted that they step back to allow him to continue his questioning when one of the nurses barged in, putting an end to the noise and escorting Chloe and Jack from the room. They had only been in the hallway a few moments before the nurse called them back in. Riley had, in true Riley fashion, sweet-talked her into allowing his friends to remain in the room with Detective Yarbrough despite hospital policy in this new ward limiting visitors to two at a time. Something to do with being “good for his soul.” So at Riley’s insistence and Detective Yarbrough’s
reluctant concession, she promptly banished Detective Riggs instead.

  Chloe’s eyes ranged over Riley. For the most part, he seemed his normal self, though there was a drawn and slightly weak quality about him that made her heart hurt. But she reassured herself that he would regain his strength and robustness soon, a notion bolstered by the determined gleam in his eye.

  “I know you’re excited about your friend waking up, but I really need to push through and get his statement,” Detective Yarbrough urged. “Otherwise, no matter what that nurse says, I’ll have you kicked out till we’re done.”

  Jack held up a hand in surrender. “We’ll just step over here.” He mock-zipped his mouth and moved to stand on the side of the bed opposite Detective Yarbrough. Chloe sat in the bedside chair, taking Riley’s hand in hers. To her surprise, he let her.

  “And you’re sure you don’t know who attacked you?”

  Riley shook his head and sighed melodramatically, leading Chloe to believe it wasn’t the first time he had answered this question. “Like I said, I was hit from behind and pretty dazed. When I turned, all I got were glimpses of a figure, nothing definite, not even clothing—before I got cracked in the head again. My vision was going. I think I was on my way to passing out, but I know I rushed the guy, got in a few punches.”

  “You think it was a man?”

  Riley squinted, his gaze distant over the foot of his bed. “It could’ve been a man or a woman. I was pretty out of it by the time I turned.”

  “Were they taller, shorter? Bigger than you?”

  Riley’s brows shot up. “Bigger? Have you seen me, man? No. Whoever it was wasn’t bigger than me. But I was hunched over holding the egg blooming on my head at the time I laid eyes on them, so I can’t gauge height.”

  “And what happened after that?”

  Riley shrugged, a wince erupting on his face before he gingerly lowered his shoulders. “I got in a couple of good whacks and was still trying to shake off being dazed when I felt something sharp in my chest.”

  “You were stabbed,” Detective Yarbrough offered.

  “Oh, so that’s why I’m in here?” Riley said, winking at Chloe.

  “Was that not what happened?” Detective Yarbrough pressed.

  “Honestly, at the time, I didn’t know what happened, though that was my thought in the twenty seconds before I passed out. Next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

  “Why were you down there, Mr. Riley? Detective Yarbrough asked. “In the basement in the middle of the night? Strange place for a guest to be.”

  “I was following up on something.”

  “I knew it!” Jack bellowed. “I told Chloe you’d started to mention something at dinner and backed off.”

  “I didn’t want to make unfounded accusations. It’s your family’s hotel and there’s a lot riding on this opening, so I thought I would discreetly look into it first.”

  “Look into what?” Detective Yarbrough asked. “Look into Ms. Nolan? Did you observe something when you were there with her that afternoon?”

  “Into Deidre?” Riley’s face contorted in genuine confusion. “What? No. Well, I mean I did notice something when we were in the basement, but it had nothing to do with her.”

  They haven’t told him about Deidre’s arrest, yet. Of course, they wouldn’t. They would want to get his unbiased, uninfluenced statement first.

  “Go on,” Detective Yarbrough pushed.

  “We were putting some empty boxes in storage,” Riley explained, then turned to Jack. “She claimed she needed help, but come on, let's be honest. The manager, carrying a bunch of empty boxes? You’re telling me she didn’t have anyone else to send? I’m pretty sure she was just looking for ways to spend time with me.” Riley wiggled his eyebrows. Clearly, his confidence hadn’t been injured in the attack.

  Boy, is he gonna be mad when they tell him who they’ve arrested. Chloe was glad that wasn’t a task she had to undertake and imagined Jack was probably thinking the same thing, given that he had squeezed her shoulder both times Deidre’s name had come up.

  “Mr. Riley?” Detective Yarbrough was not doing a very good job of hiding his growing irritability.

  “Right, right. Anyway, while we were down there, I saw a staff member coming out of one of the smaller storage rooms at the back. The door was open, and he looked like he was tinkering with the gas.”

  “What do you mean?” Yarbrough’s eyebrows lifted.

  “I’m not sure, and you’d have to ask Deidre, but it looked like the gas main came through there from the outside and then split off up through the ceiling to the stoves and ovens and heaters and what-not.”

  Yarbrough’s gaze shot to Jack. “Is that true?”

  Jack shrugged. “I’ve got no idea. You’d have to ask the staff. Or better yet, Deidre.” The emphasis he placed on her name did not go unnoticed by the detective, given the subtle but admonishing narrowing of his eyes.

  “Did you recognize the staff member?” Yarbrough asked.

  “Deidre said he was the groundskeeper. I never formally met him.”

  The detective consulted his notes. “Greg Prater?”

  “I think that was the name she gave,” Riley responded.

  Greg Prater?

  Chloe told herself that the groundskeeper being in the storage area didn’t mean much. She imagined there were plenty of reasons for him to find himself anywhere on the property given the right circumstances. Detective Yarbrough must’ve thought so too, based on his next question.

  “What was he doing that concerned you? I mean, he is the groundskeeper. It wouldn’t be unheard of for him to be in the basement, in the storage area, or even around the gas line.”

  “I couldn’t tell you. I just had a feeling. Something about the way he looked at me when he saw me eyeing him as he left that room and closed the door behind him. It left me feeling like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.”

  “But he didn’t actually do anything to make you think that?”

  “Like I said, just a feeling.”

  “Was it possible he might have also noticed something was off and was checking it out?”

  Riley’s eyebrows lifted. “No idea. You’d have to ask him. But sure, that could be possible. I’m not blaming the guy for anything. It just made me curious about the room.”

  “What did Mr. Prater do at the time? When he saw you looking at him.”

  Riley pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Not a thing.”

  “But you still felt it necessary to go down there in the middle of the night?”

  “Gas is gas. And we all know weird things have been happening at that resort. I woke up in the middle of the night worrying about it. I just wanted to be safe. It’s in my nature to be suspicious. So I decided to check it. If I’d told someone, it might’ve gotten back to him, and if there was something going on and he was involved, I wasn’t sure what he might do. And I didn’t want to accuse an innocent person either.”

  “You know enough about gas lines to think you’d be able to spot if something was wrong?” Detective Yarbrough asked.

  “Well, I’ve got a nose, for one thing. If a leak had been introduced, I would’ve smelled that. And if something more obvious had been done—”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a device set to cause a leak, or worse, an explosion.”

  “A bomb?” Detective Yarbrough asked, his voice highly skeptical. “You expected to find a bomb down there?”

  “Wouldn’t need a bomb. Just a leak and a spark. But like I said, I didn’t know what to expect. That’s why I went down there.”

  Yarbrough shifted. “And what did you find?”

  “Didn’t have a chance to find anything. Like I said, I pretty much got whacked in the head the second I opened the door to that far room.”

  Detective Yarbrough’s rigid stance and tightly drawn lips left no mistake that he was frustrated. And why wouldn’t he be? After waiting days for Riley to regain consciousness, no
thing he said had given Yarbrough much more to go on than he had before. Most disappointing was that Riley couldn’t name his attacker. Or rule out Deidre as the perpetrator.

  “Talk to me about….” As Yarbrough began peppering Riley with more questions, Chloe’s phone buzzed.

  “Excuse me.” She moved the short distance in the little hospital room from the chair to the wall at the foot of the bed. She leaned against it and checked her phone.

  A new email from AncestorBase.com was in her inbox.

  Dear Ms. Bartholomew,

  We are pleased to inform you that the research you requested has been completed as per your order. The information uncovered has been attached as files in your AncestorBase.com account, where you may easily click to create new family trees incorporating these individuals and their histories.

  Thank you for using AncestorBase.com, where history is only a click away.

  The AncestorBase.com Team

  Chloe was torn between listening to Detective Yarbrough’s interview of Riley and doing a quick review of the information gathered by the website. Even though it was too late to use it in the exhibit’s reveal, it was exciting to think that what she discovered might be added later, making the exhibit even better. After so much hard work, the pull of the research was too much to resist, and since Yarbrough’s questions seemed redundant anyway, she opened her AncestorBase account on her phone.

  The research file contained both a summary of the information uncovered as well as separate files regarding the descendants of each male student she had submitted. Of the fifteen boys, two died before having any children of their own. Of the remaining thirteen, one had a single son who died in childhood. Another had a single daughter who never had a child and had passed away. Another was killed with his entire family in a house fire in 1937. That left ten with descendants. According to AncestorBase, those ten individuals had 178 known living adult descendants, whose names and last known addresses were listed in the summary. Their individual family trees were each attached in links.