Onyx
I adjust the thick side-braid hanging down my shoulder.
It hides the earpiece keeping me connected to the team.
I’m wearing a skintight, black tank dress under my kimono. The dress hits me mid-thigh and barely hides the thin switchblade I have strapped to the inside of my thigh, but the kimono goes all the way down to my ankles. Janey picked the outfit. According to Janey the little black dress is sexy, and the kimono gives the outfit class. Kate assured me no one will suspect I’m armed.
All I know is that my hands are sweating as Mitch drives me down the long, winding driveway to the lodge. It’s already getting dark, the sun set fifteen minutes ago, and as we leave the trees behind, I can see the fences, stables, and lodge are all lit with strings of outdoor lights. The grounds should look beautiful but, given what may be going on behind closed doors, it only looks creepy. Like the opening scenes of a horror movie.
“I can hear you almost hyperventilating from here,” Mitch warns me.
He’s right, I’m breathing like a steam engine. I mindfully adjust my breathing and attempt to center myself.
A young man wearing a burgundy vest stops us, instructing Mitch to drop me off at the base of the steps. After that he’s supposed to park the vehicle by the garage, which is on the other side of the lodge from the stables.
A second valet is waiting at the base of the stairs and rushes up to open my door when Mitch pulls up.
“I’ve got your back,” he relays softly.
I give him a curt nod before I get out of the car, tugging the ends of the Pashmina wool shawl I added to my outfit to ward off the cold. I’m pretty sure Janey would not approve, but I have no interest in freezing my butt off.
“Ms. Baqri, may I?” the young man asks, offering me his arm.
He’s almost pretty, fine-boned and smooth, no sign of any manly stubble. Little more than a child.
“What’s your name?” I ask as I take his arm and let him lead me up the steps.
He seems a little taken aback at my question, but still answers, “Stefan,” in that soft voice.
“Stefan. That’s a lovely name. Have you been here long, Stefan?”
We’ve almost reached the top of the stairs and I’m doing my best to slow down our progress.
I catch his glance up to the portico, held up with two massive log columns.
“Two years and five months,” he mumbles as we step onto the landing.
There he steps aside and my hand slides from his arm.
“Ma’am?”
His voice is louder as he gestures to the front doors where a girl, dressed in a black mini-dress with a white lace apron, is waiting. The only thing missing is the white collar and black bow tie to complete the Playboy bunny look.
As I walk toward her, the earpiece crackles to life with Lee’s voice.
“Olson just turned up the driveway.”
Instinct has me turn my head to look behind me before I can stop myself. The vehicle I see pulling up to the stairs does not hold Jesper Olson though, but a couple around my age or a bit older who look vaguely familiar. I don’t want to be caught gawking so I swing back to the door where the girl is still waiting.
“Ms. Baqri, can I take your wrap?” she asks politely.
I will eat my shoes if this girl is older than eighteen.
The fact these kids address me by name makes me feel physically ill. What do they see when they look at me?
I slip my Pashmina from my shoulders and hand it to her.
“What’s your name?”
She looks as surprised as the other kid did, but it’s important to let them know I see them. I have no proof, but I also have no doubt, these kids are not here voluntarily.
I remember all too well how the process of conditioning started by stripping me of my identity. I was made to feel like no more than a piece of chattel. My name was never mentioned, I was moved around and arranged like a piece of luggage, and most of the time I was blindfolded when I was used.
To the point I became as anonymous as I was being treated.
So yes, it’s important for me to know their names.
“Heather,” she finally answers, as if it took her a while to remember.
I smile at her. “Thank you, Heather. I appreciate it.”
“Cocktails are past the stairs to your left,” she indicates.
I glance around the foyer and my eye catches on the door to the powder room. It gives me a chance to check in with the team and, if I time it right, maybe I’ll be able to intercept Jesper Olson when he walks in.
“Thanks, I’ll just use the facilities first.”
I duck into the bathroom just as the couple arriving behind me steps into the foyer. I’m curious to know who they are.
“Janey? Do you have eyes on the gate still?”
“I do.”
“Did you run the plates for the vehicle that came in right behind me? It’s a couple, they look familiar.”
“Car’s registered to Frank Galloway. Church of Abundance.”
“That’s who it is.”
I occasionally see ads for the televangelist, promising a life of prosperity and promoting family values. Some of the advertisements feature his wife.
“Including Olson and myself that makes six guests so far, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Any news on the identity of the first guy?”
Janey kept us up to date with any arrivals before me. There’d been two. The second one a news anchor for a national network Janey recognized, but we haven’t figured out the first one yet. The problem was he didn’t arrive in his own vehicle but a limousine.
“A Hollywood plastic surgeon for the rich and famous. Flew into Lake Cumberland Regional Airport in a private jet.”
My first thought is it must be nice to be that privileged. Then I remember, by measure of dollars, Jacob belongs to the ranks of the privileged as well. But I know better now. His path to wealth has been all but privileged, it was painful and traumatic.
“Guys, hang on,” Kate interrupts. “Someone is coming in by boat as we speak. Docking at the back of the property. One person getting off. It’s too dark and I’m too far to see a face.”
Kate has found a spot in the trees on the edge of the water near the cabins. From there she’s able to see the stables and the rear of the lodge, as well as the water.
I almost jump at the sound of a knock on the bathroom door.
“I have to go,” I whisper, quickly running water in the sink.
“Ms. Baqri, are you all right?”
The voice is male and cultured, but I don’t recognize it. I turn off the water and unlock the door.
I’ve never seen the man standing on the other side.
“My name is Barnaby,” he introduces himself. “I’m the majordomo here at Grandview Estate.”
That’s a somewhat elevated descriptor for a butler, but it suits him, surprisingly.
Barnaby looks like he’s straight from a British TV show. Slim, with an ascot tucked into the neck of the dress shirt he’s wearing under his V-neck pullover. At first glance he looks to be in his thirties, but on closer examination I see the fine lines in his face and the slight waddle under his chin, which makes it more likely he’s in his fifties.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Barnaby.”
I shoot him what I hope is a pleasant smile, but I’m a little distracted when I see Jesper Olson walking right past us. Instead of heading left, he turns right on the other side of the stairs. From what I remember that’s where, among other things, the office is located.
“Could I escort you to a cocktail?” he offers.
“That would be wonderful.”
Barnaby leads the way, but when I expect him to turn left, where the girl instructed me to go, he turns right. The same way Jesper went.
“Are we not joining the others?” I purposely ask, so the team knows what’s going on.
“Absolutely, but Mr. Ackers wanted an opportunity to welcome you himself.”
I expect the man to lead me to the office at the end of the hall, but instead he opens the door to the room with the dark paneling and the pool table in the center. It’s empty except for a cart with a selection of liquors.
“What can I prepare for you?” Barnaby asks, standing by the bar cart.
“I would love a Negroni, if you have the ingredients.”
I’ve only had a Negroni once in my life, but it’s the fanciest thing I can think of to order.
“Of course.”
I look around me while Barnaby mixes my drink. Why am I in here? And if Ackers wanted to meet me so badly, where is he?
“Mr. Ackers had one last thing to finish up,” he explains, as if I’d posed the question out loud.
He turns to me, holding out my cocktail, complete with a slice of orange. He looks at me expectantly, so I take a quick sip.
“Perfect,” I compliment him, at which he beams.
“Excellent. He will be with you shortly.”
Barnaby nods and backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.
I feel distinctly uneasy and almost jump out of my skin when I hear Janey in my ear.
“Where are you?”
“Room with the pool table.”
Everyone has studied the blueprints of the lodge, and I’d been able to fill in some more of the layout after my last visit here.
A sharp click sounds behind me and I swing around to see a panel in the wall open up.
I hold my breath and steel my expression, when David Wheeler steps into the room.
Jacob
I’m frustrated.
I thought it would be easier if I knew I was in close proximity, but I have no freedom of movement here.
The view from the few windows in the kitchen look out on the water, and all I can see of the house is one side window to the living room, which appears to have been treated with reflective material, and a section of privacy screen blocking a view of the outdoor patio.
There’s no way for me to keep an eye on what’s going on.
The catering van was directed to a set of stairs at the rear of the lodge leading up to a back entrance directly into the kitchen, bypassing the rest of the lodge altogether.
The only person we’ve seen is some guy named Barnaby, maybe a personal assistant or something, but he appears to be in charge. He only communicates with Jeremy, ignoring Marcel, the sous-chef, and myself.
So far most of what I’ve been doing is dishes to the point my fingers are pruned. Bernie would say for lack of practice, since it’s not something I do much of. I’ve listened to what little radio traffic there’s been, while working, but I haven’t turned on my mic since the others don’t know I’m here. Besides that, I wouldn’t want my voice to throw Raj off.
Now I’ve graduated to plating a goat cheese salad. Again, not exactly my wheelhouse, but with a bit of instruction and an example to work from, I seem to do okay, sliding each finished plate onto the cart.
I can tell Raj arrived at the lodge a few moments ago because she was interacting with some of the staff, making small talk. Now she’s in the bathroom, talking with the team, when I hear knocking in the background. Suddenly Raj whispers she has to go.
I listen intently to Barnaby introducing himself, but the hair on my neck stands on end when Raj asks why they’re not joining the others. When I hear the explanation Wheeler wants to meet her alone, every alarm bell goes off in my head and my feet are already moving.
I’m halfway to the door when Jeremy stops me, blocking my way.
“Where are you going?”
“Something’s wrong.”
I reach around him for the door.
“You open that door, I break my contract and I won’t get paid,” Jeremy warns me. “You’d better be sure.”
“I’ll fucking pay you double,” I growl.
Right then the door opens and Barnaby walks in.
“We’re ready for the first course,” he announces.
“One minute,” Jeremy tells him, giving me a stern look as Barnaby nods and backs out of the kitchen.
So far, all I hear in my earpiece is a calm, male voice. I can’t quite make out what he says, and I hope to God if Raj was in danger, she would be vocal. I quickly finish plating the last of the salads and as I’m placing them on the cart, I hear Raj say, “That would be lovely.”
Jeremy hands me the bread baskets and then, before anyone can stop me, I grab hold of the cart and use it to push open the door to the hallway.
Barnaby is waiting right outside, looking startled.
“You’re not supposed to be out here.”
“I’m sorry, I was under the impression you were in a hurry,” I tell him innocently.
Then my breath hitches in my throat when I catch sight of Rajani, still in one piece, and walking past the kitchen, side by side with the man for whom I still feel such hatred, it makes my blood run cold.
I could swear he feels my energy when his head snaps around and those dead blue eyes lock on mine. One perfectly arched eyebrow inches up as he holds my gaze until he disappears down the hall.
There is not a single doubt in my mind he knows exactly who I am.