Episode 154
EPISODE 154
brEAKFAST
Sebastian
“Hey, Shelley,” I say into my satellite phone when she answers. “Any news?”
“On who broke into the Barrett place?” She pauses. “Yeah, and you’re not going to like it.”
Fuck. I run my fingers through my hair. “Spill it.”
“The system wasn’t armed, as you know, which means the video cameras weren’t working, but one of the ranch hands says he saw a blond woman skulking around.”
“A blond woman?”
Damn. That could be anyone... Why would Shelley say I wouldn’t like it?
“She is older,” Shelley continues. “Fifties or early sixties, and a little plump around the middle. Hair looked bleached, he said. I believe his exact words were ‘no one has hair that color.’”
“Anything else?”
“No. The hand only saw her from a distance and didn’t think anything of it since he didn’t realize Monica and the healthcare worker had left. He only mentioned it because I asked everyone at the place what they saw.”
“No one else saw anything?”
“Nope. Or if they did, they’re not talking.”
“Did you get the feeling anyone was holding back?”
No response for a few seconds that seem like an eternity.
“Shelley...?”
“One of the other guys—an older hand who’s been with the Barretts since River was a toddler—seemed a little off to me. Fred is his name.”
“Right. Fred. I remember him. He was young back then. Used to give River and me cigarettes sometimes, until Monica put an end to it. He’s a great guy—or at least he was. I haven’t seen or talked to him in years. Decades, even.”
“He’s in his fifties now,” Shelley says. “And he shifted his gaze a bit when I was asking about the blond woman. I get the feeling he knows something. Or he’s protecting someone.”
“Protecting the woman, maybe?”
“Maybe. Hard to tell. It’s not like I can make the guy talk.” She hesitates. “Well, I can...if you want to go that route.”
Shelley’s the best PI I know. Her instinct is off the charts...and she’s not afraid to bend the law a little when necessary.
But I don’t want to go there. Not yet.
“I’ll have River get in touch with Fred. After all, River owns that whole place now, even his parents’ place, so he’s the big boss. Maybe he can get Fred to open up.”
“Okay.”
“But honestly, Shelley, something isn’t making sense to me. ”
“What’s that?”
“Fred’s been with the Barretts forever. Are you sure he knows something? Because he should be loyal to his employers of the last thirty-plus years. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t still be there.”
“I can’t say I’m sure, Sebastian. I’m going on pure intuition here. The man was acting odd as hell.”
“I see.”
I trust Shelley’s intuition. Either Fred knows something, or he’s becoming nervous and shifty in his old age. But hell, fifty-something isn’t that old.
“Let me talk to Riv,” I say. “Thanks for everything, Shelley. Keep me posted.”
“Always. And tell River if Fred doesn’t talk, I’ve got a few friends who owe me some favors. They’re good at making people talk.”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s not go there quite yet.” I’m ready to end the call when I think of something. “Anything new at the Larson property?”
“All is good there. No sign of anyone.”
“Good. Thanks, Shelley.”
I end the call and hook the satellite phone up to the charger.
I take a deep breath. The mystery woman could be anyone, but it’s the detail about Fred that nags at me. I pull up an old memory of him. A lumbering guy with a wry smile who always had a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. The vision contrasts starkly with the shifty, evasive figure Shelley described.
I take a sip of my coffee, wishing I’d made it Irish, even though I don’t drink this early in the day.
I’m tempted to go straight to River’s suite, but I need to work off some steam. A run on the beach will do wonders. At least I hope it will.
I pull on some ankle socks and lace up my running shoes. They’ll probably be full of sand by the time I’m done, but what the hell?
I fill a water bottle, sneak down the staircase, and head out the front door, bypassing the kitchen where people may be congregated.
I need some alone time.
The sun is still rising. What time is it anyway? Probably around ten a.m. or so. I make it to the beach and start my jog.
Several miles in, my legs burn and sweat drips down my face. But I’m not ready to stop. It feels good, the physical exertion taking the edge off my worry. I push myself harder, welcoming the pain.
After about an hour, I slow down. My heart is pounding and my chest heaving as I come to a stop. Droplets of sweat fall off the tip of my nose, blending with the spray from the crashing waves. I take in deep gulps of salty air and let them out slowly as I pull off my muscle shirt and wipe it over my face. Then I take the small water bottle I brought with me and squirt it on my head.
“Want some company?”
I look up.
June is a few yards away from me, looking luscious in a sparkly silver bikini—it reminds me of her vajazzled pussy, which, frankly, didn’t do a lot for me.
But the rest of her sure does. She’s lingerie-model gorgeous. She’s not Heather, and she’s not Ariel.
But damn... She’s fine.
And just what I need to ease the tension that—even after a hard run—is still making my body tight and rigid .
“Where’d you come from?” I ask.
“I was just taking a walk.”
I look down the coastline. “We’re quite a way from the mansion.”
“Yeah. I just needed some alone time.”
“I hear that one.”
She cocks her head. “You want me to leave you alone?”
“No,” I say as I give her a smile. “I don’t think that’s what I want at all.”
She walks toward me, her tits jiggling in the skimpy bra. “I haven’t spent any time with you in a couple days. And right now...” She eyes me up and down. “You’re shiny with sweat that I’d like to lick right off of you.”
“I won’t say no to that.” I pull her to me and crush our mouths together.
She responds to my kiss in a different way from Ariel’s sweet shyness and Heather’s blaring seductiveness. June’s kisses are almost...calculated. As if she’s got a system and knows the exact pressure, intensity, and timing to employ. Not that I’m complaining.
Our lips move in harmony. I explore her slender waist while she traces the contours of my arms. She moves one hand upward and tugs at my hair, pulling me closer into her, our bodies pressed together as the rhythmic breaking of the waves sounds on the coastline.
We part for air after a few minutes. She leans against me. “Sebastian,” she murmurs, tracing lazy circles on my chest.
“Yeah?” I wrap my arms tighter around her.
“Let’s get some breakfast.”
Food is the last thing on my mind, but it would serve as a good distraction from Fred, Shelley, and all those unanswered questions about the Barrett place—and about what’s going on with Misty, Evangeline, and everyone else.
“Sure,” I say, taking her hand. “We can go back to the house and get something.”
She winks. “What I want to eat isn’t back at the mansion.”