Chapter 17
T he party was unlike anything Maggie had ever seen. The food table alone was a Bacchanalian feast to rival the best Vegas buffet. All around her was the kind of hedonistic display she had only witnessed on television. To her right, two men snorted a line of what she guessed to be cocaine off a table, while all around the room sashayed beautiful women whose very essence told anyone who was looking they were for hire.
“What is this?” she whispered. She had expected a classy, catered event. Instead it was a pagan dystopia.
“They like to party,” Ridge whispered.
Maggie had no idea how to behave in such an environment. She had never felt more innocent or small town before. She had never seen drugs, not even marijuana, and now the most illicit drugs were on full parade.
“What do I do?” she whispered, panicked.
“Not that,” he said, nodding toward the two men who began snorting yet another line of coke. “Be yourself, that’s why you’re here.”
“And who will you be?” she asked.
“As obnoxious as possible,” he said. “Hey y’all.” He hailed a group of men standing in a circle, took Maggie’s hand, and dragged her over. “Ridge Colton,” he said, letting go of Maggie to thrust his hand in their faces, forcing them to shake. “You may have heard of my family, they just discovered the big Houser well on our property. Woo, it was a gusher.”
He blathered on and on about his family’s immense wealth and the newly acquired well while the men listened with barely disguised disdain. Maggie tuned him out and scanned the room, as she was supposed to. There was no sign of Sam or his uncles, but there were plenty enough people to provide cover for anything or anyone. With so much illicit activity taking place in plain view, she could only imagine what was happening behind closed doors. She needed to leave Ridge and mingle, but she was terrified to do so.
You’re not a guest, you’re an agent. Act like it. She touched her fingers lightly to Ridge’s arm. “I’m going to get some food.”
“Sure, darlin’,” he said, not bothering to look at her as he waved her away. Maggie made her way to the immense and overloaded food tables, took a plate, and began to put anything on her tray she thought she might be able to stomach. She was both starving and nauseated after having been too nervous to eat all day.
“Hello.” The man across from her at the buffet spoke. He was American and looked nice enough, but who could tell under such conditions?
“Hello,” she said.
“Are you with someone?” he asked.
“The cowboy,” she said, pointing to Ridge. “Are you here on business?”
“I guess,” he said, chuckling uncomfortably. “My boss is here for a meeting and dragged me along. Not my scene.”
“Mine, either,” she said. “I was doing the guy a favor by being his date, but I had no idea it would be like this.”
“Little tip: don’t drink anything,” the man said.
Maggie nodded and set down the glass of punch she had picked up. “Thank you. So, what kind of business brings one here? Because, as far as I can tell, you either have to be a hooker or a drug mule to be invited.”
“Well, I’m not a hooker,” he said, smiling enigmatically, and Maggie suppressed a little shudder. She had entered a world where even wholesome-looking men like him couldn’t be trusted.
“We have that in common,” she said. She took a bite of fruit and froze. “Is the food safe?”
“Food’s safe,” he said. “They only drug the drinks, for some reason.” He shrugged.
“Who’s hosting this party?” she asked
“A couple of Saudis. You don’t want to meet them.”
She smiled innocently. “Why not?”
He looked around and leaned in to whisper. “Because they’re not good guys.”
“Drugs?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Worse.”
“What could be worse than drugs?” she blurted, a genuine question she wouldn’t have asked if she’d been thinking about it.
He chuckled. “You’re fresh off the farm, aren’t you?”
“More like the cherry orchard, but yes,” she said, picking up another piece of fruit.
“What do you do?” he asked.
“Promise you won’t laugh?” she said.
He nodded.
“I’m a librarian.”
He laughed. “Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just so…” he waved a hand at her. “If my librarian looked like you, I would for sure be a dedicated reader.”
She gave a self-deprecating glance at her outfit. “My date arranged it for me. He’s really into appearances. If I had my druthers, I would be in my fleece pajamas watching Netflix right now.”
He laughed again. “You might be the strangest thing at this party.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she said .
“You should,” he agreed.
She scanned the room. Still no sign of Sam. “Everyone here seems so old. Are we the youngest people here?”
“There’s your date,” he said. Maggie’s spirits fell until he continued. “And there’s this other guy, but he’s kind of elusive. He’s supposed to be meeting with my boss, but I only caught a glimpse.”
Maggie tensed. “Is he one of the hosts?”
“There’s some connection there, but I haven’t figured it out. These aren’t the sort of people you want to question.” He eased closer to her, and Maggie’s senses went on alert. Something about him said he couldn’t be trusted, despite his outwardly wholesome manner. “There are a lot of private rooms here.”
“It’s a huge mansion,” she said, holding herself stiffly away from him.
“Do you want to see one?” his fingers trailed down her arm.
Maggie froze. What was she supposed to do? Going with the guy would give her a chance to check things out and look for Sam. On the other hand, she didn’t think a tour was what he had in mind. At last she decided to take Ridge’s advice and be herself. She turned to him with a smile. “If you’re genuinely offering to let me see the place, then I’d be delighted. If you think I’m for hire, or even for free, then you’re sadly mistaken and I’ll break every one of those fingers you put on my arm.”
He withdrew his hand. “I see. Okay, but I’m still bored, so if you want to walk around, I’m game.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
“Do you need to tell your date you’re going? Will he come looking for you? ”
Was he checking to see if Ridge was keeping a protective eye on her? “He might, if I’m gone long enough, but I don’t want to disturb him when he’s trying to make a billion dollar deal on his new oil well. He was fairly explicit about not getting in his way tonight.”
“How could you ever be in anyone’s way?” the man asked with a smile that was beginning to look a little smarmy.
Maggie pulled her sequined clutch close and gave it a little pat, feeling the reassuring outline of her gun. When she had first been issued a weapon, she had thought it was a waste because she would never need it. Now she had never been more thankful for the thing, and for the ability to use it. “It’s a mystery for the ages. Let’s go.”
She trailed behind him as he meandered out of the massive hall and down a dim, narrow passage. Behind some of the closed doors she heard sounds that told her more than business deals were taking place, and her nausea increased. This was definitely not her scene, and she hoped never to repeat it.
“Whose place is this?” she asked.
“The Saudis bought it. They wanted privacy to conduct their, ah, business.”
“Wow,” she said, not needing to feign awe. The place was spectacular, a giant wood and stone monstrosity that looked like it could house ten families.
“I know, it’s incredible. And this is only part of it. There’s a whole hidden portion.”
Her ears pricked. “Like secret passages and stuff?”
He nodded. “Old, underground bomb shelters or whatnot. I think this was some sort of gangster hideout during prohibition.”
“That’s fascinating,” Maggie said sincerely. “I don’t suppose we could see that part. ”
He paused and turned to face her. “You want to see something more private?”
“I’m a history buff,” she said, feeling concerned and a little confused. Was she sending him mixed signals? Did he think she meant something other than what she said? “Truly, that kind of thing fascinates me.”
They were at the end of the long, dark hallway. “I could show you some things,” he said. His arm stretched out in front of her, his palm resting on the wall, blocking her path, should she choose to go forward.
“My only interest here is the history of this house,” she said.
“It’s an interesting house. It might take some time to explain things thoroughly.” His free hand rested on her bare shoulder.
Maggie tensed. “I told you not to touch me.”
“Your words say that, but everything else says something different,” he said.
“Listen to my words. Get your hand off me and let me go.”
He smiled, and it was fully creepy and threatening now. “Or what? You’ll scream? Do you think anyone will hear you or care if they did?” He backed her against the wall, which she now realized was a door. “Let’s step inside, we’ll talk more about history.”
She wasn’t frightened. Not only had she had enough self-defense to get herself out of the situation, but there was an entire team of trained agents listening in, plus Ridge who would likely be along any minute. But she didn’t want to have to blow their cover for this chump, so she brought her knee up hard and disabled him. He doubled over, retching, but recovered quicker than she thought he might. Before she could step around him and make an escape, his hand shot out and pinned her to the door by her throat.
“Not a good idea,” he choked. He stood upright again, and the look on his face had been transformed into something terrifying. Maggie began to feel a flicker of worry. He could do a lot of damage in the short time it took anyone to get to her.
“Don’t,” she said.
He opened his mouth, but she never got to hear what he had to say because someone spoke from behind him.
“Release her.”
The man dropped his hand and spun immediately, and now it was his turn to be terrified. “We were just playing around,” he said.
“It didn’t look like playing to me,” the man said. He nodded his head down the hallway, and the man who had been tormenting her scurried away like the cockroach he was. Maggie was left alone with her rescuer and, for the first time in six years, came face to face with her dead fiancé.