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Authors: Sheri Anderson

A Stirring from Salem (19 page)

BOOK: A Stirring from Salem
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“Nearly a million dollars on the black market?” Chance said to Jackson, who was now on his second tequila.

“That’s what Scarlett said.”

“Drunk.”

“And she thinks we have the connections to help her sell it,” Jackson said incredulously.

“After Elle Macpherson took that heat for saying she took it, does Scarlett think anyone would touch it?” Chance asked.

“Is that true?” Jackson said, answering the question with a question.

“She denied it later in the press, but from what I hear in ‘the underground,’ yep, she’s been taking it for years.”

“And ‘your’ underground would probably know,” Jackson said, agreeing.

Chance was considered one of the hottest of the hot in the international gay community. Or he had been until his father had stripped a lot of them of their hard-earned cash.

“Sick, really,” Chance said shuddering. “The idea of blowing rhinos away and sawing off those horns.”

“Really?”

Chance looked at his brother quizzically.

“What’re those?” Jackson said indicating a trio of shiny cream-colored balls that sat in a shiny Nambé metal bowl on Chance’s mantel.

“Ivory, why?” Chance asked.

“From?”

“One of Dad’s ex-lawyers who was gay and gave me the balls because he wanted mine,” Chance answered. “Tacky guy, really.”

“Are they real? Maybe real African elephant ivory?” Jackson asked. “From slaughtered elephants?”

Chance reeled. “I actually don’t know.”

“And what if their carcasses were left to rot or be eaten by scavengers?”

“I get the point. But I already agree we shouldn’t do this.” Chance was appalled.

“I’m just saying maybe it’s time we took a good look at ourselves and our priorities. Rhino horn, ivory, diamonds. Shiny beautiful objects that we’ve paid fortunes for without ever thinking about the blood, sweat, and tears that have been shed for them.”

“Wow,” Chance said.

“I mean it, bruv,” Jackson said anxiously. “Our parents screwed up our priorities, and maybe it’s time we paid back. So who cares if we lose the flats and the cars and the diamonds?” Jackson pulled the dazzling yellow sparkler from his pants pocket. “They’re just things!”

There was a loud knock on the front door.

“Come in!” Jackson shouted.

“Well, it’s actually my place,” Chance said as he made his way across the parquet floor. “But whoever it is can come in, I suppose.”

Jackson turned the ring over in his fingers as his brother opened the front door.

It was Abby.

The look between her and Chance said volumes. He nodded in the direction of his brother.

“Why don’t I get us something to take the chill off,” Chance said, making a hasty retreat. He turned on his heel and exited toward the kitchen backwards. “You two. Talk.”

“I heard about the auction,” she said with an apologetic tone.

“I figured you would,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into it.”

“And you weren’t calling off the engagement, were you,” she said as a statement more than a question.

He simply shook his head no.

“What can I say?” Abby grimaced, mortified. “I’ve already said way, way, way too much.”

“I don’t have a job. Pretty soon I won’t have a flat, and I definitely don’t have a ring, so how can I ask you to still marry me?”

There was an agonizing silence.

“Just say ‘marry me.’” she said simply. “Please…!”

“I don’t have a job. Pretty soon I won’t—” he repeated.

“Marry me!” she said cutting him off as tears formed in her eyes. “If you can’t say it, I will. Jackson Gaines, will
you
marry
me
?”

There was a long silence, as Jackson took it all in. This beautiful girl was standing in front of him, knowing he would always carry the scent of his father’s misdeeds. Yet she still wanted to marry him?

Abby hadn’t taken a breath for what seemed like hours. As she gazed at him with dewy eyes, the reality of her love washed over him. And as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, Jackson broke into a slow grin.

“Do you have any idea what you’re really getting yourself into?”

“Yes!”

Elated, Abby jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I love you, Jackson Gaines!”

She began covering him with kisses that grew longer and stronger. Their passion taking over, Jackson walked her to the sofa and laid her gently on her back.

“Ahem,” they heard as Chance entered with a tray of steaming cocoa. “This is my place, remember?”

Jackson rolled off Abby, and now all he could do was laugh. “You’re right, it’s yours, bruv.”

“Well, not mine for long,” Chance grimaced, adding, “unless there’s a miracle.”

Charley knew the importance of being in top form for a shoot, so she did her best to get several hours of midday sleep. But her best wasn’t good enough, and she stirred in bed.

From the debacle at the watering hole to her saving the day for Vince, to him forcing himself on her, to the run-in with the monkeys, and then to her over-the-moon, amazing connection with Brendan, the events of the day had her mind racing. But what was most on her mind was her mother.

Olivia Gaines had always been her best friend and confidant. Right now, Charley ached to have Olivia wanting every delicious detail of her falling in love for the first time.

Love
, Charley thought. Her body shuddered as her hand went to her lips.
How can I love someone I just met, Mummy?

Her gaze landed on the family album that sat next to the cut crystal lamp on the side table.

And can I love Marlena? she wondered. Is that disrespecting you?

There was a rap on her door.

“Hey, sunshine, we’ve got to get a move on.” It was Vince. “Makeup call’s in five minutes.”

She realized she had lost track of the time.

“Sorry,” she called out as she scrambled off the bed and hastily wrapped a light cotton robe around her slim body.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, kiddo. Sorry about before,” Vince said as she opened the door.

“I hear that,” she said simply.

“I’m pretty used to getting my way with women. Well, with anyone I can get pretty much what I want. I appreciate you putting me in my place, actually. It says a lot about your character. You’ll go far.”

Charley shifted on her feet. “The slap was a little heavy,” she said apologetically.

“It didn’t do much damage,” he offered. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for Brigitta’s fall. According to the gang, her face has swelled up like a purple and green balloon. So…”

“So—?” Charley asked.

“You’re on, darlin’” Vince winked.

Charley immediately understood what he meant. She’d be in front of that camera.

“That’s what happens when you’ve got ‘it,’” he said, smiling.

***

Being in a makeup chair wasn’t unfamiliar for Charley. From the time she was three, Olivia had orchestrated every Gaines family portrait, during which Charley was treated like a Dresden doll.

Her parents had also dragged her and her brothers to the major OMG fashion events around the world, where Charley had had to project the perfect image.

But she hated it then and wasn’t crazy about it now.

The trouble was that her face was indeed the perfect canvas. Her skin was flawless and her features perfectly proportioned. Her wide eyes were accented by clean, arched eyebrows. Her lips pouted just so, and her slightly chiseled cheekbones welcomed a dusting of color.

The suite was buzzing with activity. Scarlett and Nikki were getting their hair done, while Brigitta sat on one of the plush sofas, holding an ice pack on her cheek as she fought back soft tears.

“Breathtaking,” Greg said as he put the finishing touches on Charley. The rich ochre eye shadow picked up the hazel flecks in her smiling blue eyes. “And you have this, I don’t know, glow I never noticed before.”

Because it wasn’t there before, she thought. Not until Brendan.

“What were you and Vince doing all afternoon, Charley?” Scarlett piped in. “I had that glow with him more than once, too.”

Which is why he doesn’t respect you, Scarlett, Charley thought. Instead she bit her tongue.

“And what were you up to this afternoon?” she asked pointedly.
Seducing John Black?
“Did you have some secret tryst, perhaps?”

Before Scarlett could reply, the ringing of the phone broke the moment. Nikki was closest and answered.

“She is here. Who can I say is calling? Okay, I’ll get her.”

“Scarlett,” she said as she handed over the phone, “it’s Cornelius from Tom-Ali Clinic for you.”

Scarlett stiffened. But she managed to put on a coy smile as she got out of the stylist’s chair and moved away for privacy.

“So, this is a surprise,” she said into the phone.

“Just checking to make sure things are moving forward,” Cornelius said. He was on a pay phone at the bar at Ambri, nursing a beer and looking out across the grassy plains as he spoke. “And let me hear how good you are at lying.”

“Yes, I’m being a good girl, Cornelius. Took my malaria tablets exactly on time.”

“Nice,” he smiled. “Have you made any calls?”

“I did!” she said, being as evasive as she could under the circumstances. “Why would I lie to you?”

“Scarlett, come on,” Alex said as he indicated with his hairbrush for her to get back in his chair.

“Hope I see you before we leave for Cape Town, too,” Scarlett said into the phone. The others didn’t see the fear creeping onto her thirty-nine-year-old face as she hung up.

“What can I say…” she shrugged. “He likes me.”

Likes my connections, she said to herself. Because we’re going to make a fortune. If he lets me live, that is…

***

Buffalo could be seen emerging from the plains outside the bar as Cornelius drained the Carling Black Label from his tall glass. The late-afternoon crowd was filtering in. One of the rangers he’d conversed with when he and Patch were there with Bill slid onto the bar stool next to him.

“The usual?” the bartender asked.

“And one for my friend,” the pleasant ranger said, smiling.

As the bartender went to the fridge for the beer, Cornelius turned to him. “Tonight’s going to be my last, Neil.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” Neil laughed. Like so many others, they had both been swept into the illegal trade that had become rampant.

“I’m serious,” Cornelius said as he fiddled nervously with his empty glass. “Jiao-jie and Wen take off in the morning, and that’s the last I’m dealing with them.”

“Meaning?” Neil said, cocking his head.

“I owe them one last horn, and then I’m history. That arrest on New Year’s Eve freaked me out. There’s too much heat, and I’ve earned enough,” he lied.

“So our connection to the Xings is over,” Neil said as the bartender returned with the heady libations.

“Through me, yes,” Cornelius answered. “Sorry, I just can’t in good conscience do this anymore.”

Neil ran his finger around the rim of his frosty glass as the news sank in.

“It is a pretty nasty business. I’ve been thinking of quitting for a while, too,” he admitted.

“Really?” Cornelius said, startled.

“It’s blood money is what it is. I guess fate’s taking the decision out of my hands.”

“We’re doing the right thing,” Cornelius said, pretending to reassure his friend.

“Yeah,” Neil said as he started to choke up. “Thanks.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Cornelius repeated.

Because then there’s all the more out there for me.

A squeal emanated from the air conditioner at Tom-Ali as Kayla pored over the notes she’d been scribbling.

“Upgraded lab equipment, new autoclave, flooring we can sterilize properly,” she sighed as she ticked items off her list. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

She sank back in her chair and wiped her glistening brow. “Let’s not forget new refrigeration.”

She moved to the rattling cooler and banged it with her fist. “Bill promised this year we’d have new everything, and now if Steve’s right, we can’t even pay the electric bill. On top of all that, I’m talking to myself,” she added ruefully. “Maybe I’m going mad,” she said more loudly. “No, I am mad. Mad as hell!”

She began stamping her feet, screaming, and waving her arms wildly until she was exhausted.

Better, she said to herself as she ended her outburst. If anyone from Salem knew I do that to get it all out, they’d think I’m crazy.

Then as she caught her breath, she slowly sobered.
Am I crazy for putting my family in danger?

She glanced out the clinic window and realized the sun was getting low in the sky. Villagers on rickety bikes and in minibuses were heading out of Hoedspruit. She checked her watch and blanched.

“I’ve been here over two hours?”

Kayla organized her notes quickly, went to the back rooms, and turned out the lights. As she returned to the waiting room, the phone was ringing.

She reached for the receiver but instead opted to let the answering system pick up. In a moment she heard over the speaker, “It’s Steve just checking to make sure you’ll be home before dark. Give me a call back. All’s good here, Sweetness,” he said. “For the record, I am sorry. And by the way, we love you.”

Kayla stared at the phone and smiled softly. “Me, too. But I’d rather tell you in person.”

Her purse and keys were by the door. She picked them up, shut off the lights, and exited.

From outside, she locked the door behind her. Neighboring small businesses were shutting down, and she nodded to their owners pleasantly as she got into the Jeep for the ride back to her family.

Moments after her Jeep disappeared down the dusty highway, Cornelius’ truck pulled up to the side of the building.

***

Cornelius flipped on the lights as he entered.

Now that the place was empty, his mission was simple.

He retrieved a pair of latex surgical gloves from one of the cabinet drawers and then went to the storage room and retrieved Bill’s Browning A-Bolt from the locked cabinet.

Setting the rifle on the counter, he unlocked the meds cabinet and perused his options.

“Prescription courage, baby,” he said as he took out a bottle of Adderall XR. He swallowed two of the amphetamine pills. They had been his friends since he’d gotten hooked in vet med school. He put a dozen or so in his pocket.

The next bottle out of the cabinet was Rohypnol. Another drug he knew all too well but for very different reasons.

Taking one of the clean drinking glasses from next to the sink, he used the base of it to crush several Rohypnol tablets. Then he rubbed the powdery substance between his thumb and forefinger sending a light dusting of the potent hypnotic into the glass.

He was just placing the spiked glass on the high shelf when the front door opened.

It was Kayla.

“Cannot believe I left the lights on…” she muttered under her breath as she entered. Then she stopped short as she saw Cornelius.

“Cornelius,” she gasped.

“Hi,” he said evenly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

Kayla knew she was in danger. It was impossible to ignore the gun, the gloves, and the drugs.

“I just came back to pick up my notes,” she said quickly, looking away and indicating the tablet on the desk.

“Only one thing I can say about that, Kayla,” he said as he moved toward her, pulling off the gloves. “Really bad timing.”

“I didn’t see anything,” she gasped, holding up her hand to shield the view of the gun.

“And you’re a very bad liar,” he snapped. He was getting amped as the Adderall kicked in. “Oh, you saw something,” he said. “But trust me, you won’t remember it.”

Before Kayla knew what had hit her, Cornelius had catapulted himself toward her, knocking her against the door. She hit the door hard and had the wind knocked out of her.

Her eyes met his as he grabbed her. “Sorry about this. Really,” he said as he whirled her around and shoved her to the floor.

“Why?” she moaned as she lay there. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to shake off her disorientation and gasped for air.

Cornelius sprung to the counter where the remainder of the powdered Rohypnol sat and dumped it in a glass, diluting it with water.

Keeping an eye on his disoriented victim, he quickly retrieved a syringe. Then he filled it with the powerful sedative and returned, injecting it into her arm.

Kayla winced as the needle pierced her flesh.

Cornelius waited while the powerful sedative spread through her bloodstream, and within a minute, she was out cold.

He snapped his fingers in front of her several times and shook her lightly at first and then with more intensity. When he was sure she was under, he let out a huge sigh of relief.

Glancing around quickly, he noticed one of their medical kits next to the door. He tipped it over next to her feet and then positioned her limp body carefully to look as if she’d fallen over it and hit her face when she hit the ground.

“You should be more careful,” he chided her. “Look what not paying attention got you.”

Pleased with himself, Cornelius smiled. He knew that with the amount of the amnesiac he’d injected directly into her bloodstream, she’d never remember what she’d seen.

BOOK: A Stirring from Salem
6.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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