Losing Ladd (22 page)

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Authors: Dianne Venetta

Tags: #romance, #women, #southern, #mystery, #small town, #contemporary, #food, #series, #tennessee, #cozy

BOOK: Losing Ladd
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He shook his head, a sadness seeping
into his gaze. “I’m afraid not. Would you like to sit with
her?”

She nodded and Malcolm took the
opportunity to excuse himself. “I’ll talk to you later.”

 

Felicity edged into the room, overcome
by the sight of her mother’s inert figure. It was weird seeing her
like this, the woman who was always on the go. At home, her mom
rarely sat down. She was always busy, occupied. From caring for her
horses, the stables, to caring for Felicity and Nick, her mom was
always in motion which made her present condition all the more
intolerable. It wasn’t right. “Do you think it’s possible that
Jillian had something to do with the fire?”

Nick settled a brooding gaze on her
mother. “It’s possible.”


Do you think my father
was involved?”

He turned to Felicity and his
expression changed. It was as though he knew something but didn’t
want to tell her. “I don’t know.” Pausing, he said, “Malcolm told
me you saw the two of them together.”

Felicity bit down on her
lip, a flurry of nerves swarming her breast. “I did. Outside the
hotel where he’s staying.” Nick waited, as though he expected her
to say more. “I think they’re together,” she spit out quickly. “I
think they have a
thing
, or something.”


Jillian uses people.
That’s her thing.”

To set fires? Felicity wondered. Is
that what Nick meant? Taking in her mother’s body, images of the
fire burned hot in Felicity’s mind. Travis had pushed her mom out
of danger, then carried her out to safety. The doctor said she
suffered a blunt force trauma to the head, and that’s why she was
in a coma. Had Travis caused it when he tackled her to the
ground?

Felicity shuddered. She didn’t know
anything about comas or trauma, but she did know about her father.
He had it in for her mother. His lighter was found outside the
stables. He was seen with Jillian Devane, a woman Nick and Malcolm
apparently believed capable of arson. If he was capable of lying in
court to send Troy to jail for something he didn’t do, why wouldn’t
it be plausible for him to team up with her mother’s arch
enemy?


Will you call me if
anything changes?” She stood abruptly.

Nick’s surprise made Felicity feel
like a heel, like she didn’t care enough to sit with her mother,
but at the moment she had something more important to
do.

He placed a hand over her mother’s.
“Sure. I’ll call you the minute something changes.”


Thanks,” she mumbled and
hurried out of the room. Her father was responsible for the fire.
But she needed to find something more than his lighter, something
that linked him to the fire, maybe to Jillian. If she could, it
might be exactly what was needed to prevent him from going to court
against Troy—because he’d be in jail where he belonged.

Chapter Nineteen

 

Malcolm walked the distance from hotel
to stables, the ease of his stride a sure sign his physical
condition was improving. A fairly steep incline, the mountainside
trail that led guests up to the stables was graded for their
comfort but taxing on the muscles. Only the physically fit would
enjoy the climb. The others would opt for a ride up, courtesy of
the hotel. Inhaling the blue sky above, the line of evergreens and
oaks that created the horizon, he recalled it wasn’t that long ago
he was chasing Lacy around these mountains and having a bear of a
time keeping up with her. A bear of a time. Malcolm chuckled at the
direction his terminology had taken. His first visit to the
mountains had been little over a year ago—a visit he’d expected to
take weeks had lasted months. Years, really, considering he and
Lacy planned to make Tennessee their home.

Home base, he corrected. While Malcolm
might enjoy the pure country air and layers of hills, his heart
yearned for travel. Born and raised in Los Angeles, Malcolm’s
desire had been bred into him. From summer jaunts to Europe to sea
excursions through the islands, Malcolm was no stranger to an
airport or the jet-set lifestyle. Not only his personal life but
his career had taken him coast to coast. In fact, it had been
during a stint in New York City that he’d met Nick. Malcolm had
been head of the marketing department for a restaurant in the city
when Nick arrived on scene and tried to woo their head chef away to
one of his exotic destinations. Malcolm’s boss had a fit, sending
Malcolm’s cooler head in to prevail. Unfortunately, Nick could be a
smooth operator when he wanted to be and talked not only the chef
into a new job but Malcolm as well!

Laughing at the memory, Malcolm was
glad for the decision. He and Nick worked well together, both
personally and professionally. Their styles were a perfect
complement to one another, and it wasn’t long before Nick offered
Malcolm a partnership stake in the business. Said if he was going
to grow, he’d need more time and to spread out across the globe and
the knowledge he had a man he could trust at his back. It was a
proposition Malcolm couldn’t refuse. Harris Hotels offered him not
only the chance to exercise his management and marketing
capabilities, but the eco-friendly aspect challenged his creative
side, as well making for a career that held his interest year after
year.

He paused at the top of the hill,
anger shredding his pleasurable feelings as he took in the sight of
formerly white walls charred black, many collapsed in on
themselves. Burnt out horse stalls and scorched leather tack
reminded him of the animals that had been hurt. A putrid scent
lingered in the air, inciting a desire for revenge. Malcolm had
never considered himself a violent man. He wasn’t outwardly
physical like Nick, didn’t swagger or hurl threats, but the sight
of Hotel Ladd’s stables in ruin roused an ugly need. It was
visceral, demanding. Someone had deliberately destroyed an integral
part of their property, and that someone was going to
pay.

The sooner the better, he mused, and
headed to the nearest police officer on hand. The forensics team
was on hand to determine the cause of the blaze, a cause that would
lead Malcolm directly to the culpable party. He moved toward an
older man, the grim lines in his face suggesting he was a senior
officer, one who was probably all too familiar with senseless
criminal acts. “Officer...” Malcolm spied the name on his tag.
“...Griffin. Have you learned anything about the fire?”


And you are?” he shot
back with a surly glower, his ruddy cheeks plump and covered by a
glistening sheen of perspiration. The uniform he wore groaned at
the seams, suggesting a man who liked good-cooking.


Malcolm Ward. I’m one of
the hotel owners.”

The officer’s hostility slackened.
“Yes, we think so. It was an IED set off by remote
control.”


IED?”


Improvised explosive
device.”

Malcolm knew what it meant but
couldn’t believe that was the cause. “Someone set off a bomb in our
stables?”


Sort of.” Officer Griffin
called out to one of his detectives, “Randy! Bring me that device,
will ya?” Turning back to Malcolm, he explained, “Know anyone
missing a cell phone?”


Cell phone? No,” Malcolm
replied, confused by the question.


Forensics is still
working to confirm, but we think the fire started in the back
corner of the building on account of the concentration of char
patterns in that location. We think the bomb was detonated remotely
using a cell phone.”

The younger officer jogged up and
handed a gnarled piece of metal to his superior.


Thanks,” the man said
briskly.

Malcolm barely acknowledged the junior
police officer, engrossed by the sight of the fire’s cause. It was
so small. “That’s it?”


Yeah. We don’t see too
many of these around here, but one of the guys out of Chattanooga
used to work in the military and he nailed it on the spot.
Basically what we’re dealing with is a makeshift fire bomb set off
a by cell phone.” Malcolm gaped at him. Taking the hotelier’s
silence as a cue to continue, the officer explained, “All you need
is a few well-placed electrical wires, a fuse, a power source
attached to a can of gasoline and you have yourself an explosive
device.”

Staring at the piece of black metal in
the man’s hand, Malcolm was amazed by the amount of information
they had been able to gather. There must be more to it. “I don’t
understand. How can a cell phone set off a bomb?” he asked, wanting
the information to be that easy but needing it to be accurate
beyond a reasonable doubt.


When the phone is called,
it activates the ringer which makes the connection between the
components and kicks off the signal to detonate. The idea is to
create a signal between the positive and negative circuit which
then sets off the fuse.”

None of it made any sense to Malcolm.
This was not his area of expertise.


Now that we’ve located
the device and cause, we can track down cell signals in the area
around the time of the explosion. Based on witness accounts, we
have a good idea when that occurred.”


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.”

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