Chapter Eleven
The gathering was a lot more upscale than JJ had originally thought it would be.
Business owners, operators, investors and some leading industry-specific professionals all mingled around a ballroom while waiters and waitresses moved in-between with actual trays of drinks and appetizers balanced on their hands.
JJ was immensely glad that she had listened to Corrie, who had suggested she go dressier rather than the blouse and slacks she had originally intended to wear. She wasn’t the only one.
Price lowered his chin over her shoulder. His name tag brushed against her jacket. She could feel his breath at her ear.
“Remind me to give Winnie a raise in her allowance next month. I would have worn jeans if it wasn’t for her.”
JJ stilled herself from reacting to the closeness. She did smile though.
“Sounds good to me. I owe her for the hair anyway.”
Price pulled two drinks from a waiter as they glided by and stood tall at her side once distributing them. He took in a deep breath and then nodded.
“Okay, so the plan is to find the florist lady Cassandra and Corrie want to get in good with, right? And then rub elbows with the local event lady.”
He bobbed his head around. It wasn’t as noticeable as it might have been had the room not been filled with tables, chairs, standing decorations and enough guests that the live music at the back of the room was competing with their chatter.
“Robertson. Maggie Robertson,” JJ reminded him. “Cassandra wants to start hosting events at the coffee shop and thought if we were friendly enough with her, we could do some kind of partnership deal in the future.”
Price nodded. His eyes continued to scan the room.
JJ was doing more of the same.
However, she wasn’t looking for Maggie Robertson or the head of the local event scene.
She was looking for Marty Goldman.
“The picture Corrie gave you isn’t helping me here,” Price said after a moment. “We need to move around so I can start reading name tags too.”
JJ felt a small pressure at her lower back as Price gently placed his hand there. He pushed a little. It put JJ in step beside him.
Once again, JJ struggled to rein in her focus.
“I’ll let you start the conversations, but let me know if you get tired of schmoozing and I’ll jump in,” he whispered, oblivious to her mental stumble. “Or I can help you escape if you need instead. I’m really good at diverting conversational attention.”
Somehow, JJ didn’t doubt that. With one hand and a slight push, he’d managed to divert her attention and scatter her thoughts.
If Price Collins put his mind to actively being distracting?
JJ let out a little laugh.
“Pick a code word and I’ll be sure to say it.”
Price nodded. She glanced over to see a smile had tugged up the corner of his lips.
“Let me think on it a bit. It has to be a good one.”
For the next half hour, they weaved in and out of partygoers, stepping into ongoing conversations and then starting their own.
Everyone had business cards and together JJ and Price became a well-oiled machine in presenting the one from the coffee shop and accepting cards from the people they were networking with.
Price also took it upon himself to put each in the pockets of his suit.
It was a move that JJ found oddly touching.
They ebbed and flowed like that in a comfortable rhythm, despite not sighting either one of their targets, including Marty Goldman.
“Maybe they’re some of those people who like to be fashionably late or just have to make a dramatic appearance,” Price reasoned as they took a water break next to one of the caterer tables. “We can keep schmoozing around until we see one of them or try to get someone more exciting on our side.”
He looked absolutely mischievous as he openly scanned the crowd near them. He was covert when he nodded toward the group of people milling closer to the band.
“That guy there? The one with the brown suit and lady half his age on his arm? I’m pretty sure that’s the guy who runs the courier service the art lady we talked to last said was a good person to know. Why don’t we go accidentally bump into him?”
JJ agreed but, as they started walking that way, she had to scold him a little.
“What is it with you and not learning names? I’m not sure I’ve heard you say a name other than that man and that lady.”
Price fell back a little as a group walking by forced him to slow down.
It put JJ a few steps ahead of him. Still, she imagined his expression.
He was probably smiling, laughing a little and ready to lob a cheeky remark back.
JJ realized she was almost looking forward to turning to him once there was more room to see if she was right.
But she didn’t get the chance.
She had found something familiar in the ballroom.
Her feet kept going a few steps, unsure if her eyes really were seeing what they thought they were.
Who they thought they were.
There was no way, absolutely no way that her old life was here.
Not like this.
Not with the two of them.
The men were in suits, standing on the outskirts of the group of people watching the live band play.
One wore a comfortable-looking fit, dark blue and complimenting his blond hair.
The other had a suit that was classic. Black, white button-up, a tie that was plain but no doubt expensive.
His hair was copper. His resting smile was sharp.
While both men were together in the same space, sharing a conversation, they were light-years from each other.
One was Marty Goldman, suit blue.
The other was the son of the man who had killed JJ’s family.
Her instincts tore themselves apart. JJ took another step forward and then stopped.
If it had been anyone else at Marty’s side…
Was he here for Marty?
Surely, he was.
Why else would he be talking to him of all people…
Was this the first time they had met?
What was his plan next?
Did that mean Marty was her brother?
The ballroom seemed to become silent around her. Then it was an echo chamber of nothing but questions. None of them she could answer.
Then those questions came to a screeching halt as a sight that truly terrified her took place.
The two men started to walk away from the crowd, heading in the direction of side doors that led deeper into the building.
Josiah Teller had been viciously attacked in his own home, driven away and then dumped in a field. Jamie Bell’s house had been partially blown up, then absolutely destroyed all while the sole occupant had been beaten and left to the same fire.
What would happen to Marty Goldman if he wasn’t the son of Able Ortiz?
What would happen if he was?
“The last dance I went to was the father-daughter one for Winnie when she was in middle school, but I’m sure I can pull out a few moves that won’t embarrass you too badly.”
Price’s voice filled the terrifying silence that had wrapped around her. She hadn’t realized they had made it to the small stretch of dance floor other guests were currently using. A couple moved smoothly past them, but JJ was still eyes on Marty, moving farther and farther away.
JJ didn’t have time to wonder why she did what she did next.
Instead, all of her seemed to come up with a new plan right on the spot.
One that finally included another person.
JJ spun around and took Price’s hand in hers. When she spoke, her voice was low but had years of pain, anger and determination powering through every word.
“I’m about to give you a lot of information and there’s no time to ask questions about it, but I promise I’ll explain more later. Right now, I need your help.”
Price had been smiling.
That smile disappeared.
She didn’t wait for the go-ahead.
She went for the jugular instead.
“My real name is Lydia Ortiz, and I moved to Seven Roads to try and find my biological brother before the people who killed my parents find him.” She touched her chest with her free hand.
“I’m the person you fought in Josiah Teller’s house, but I am not the one who hurt him, and I am not working with the man who hurt Georgie.
The man who most likely did is walking away with Marty Goldman right now. ”
She moved her hand so she was pointing to Marty’s retreating back.
The doors were already closing behind him. She couldn’t even see the black suit his companion wore anymore.
It pulled her anxiety as high as it could go.
She had run out of time.
If Price wasn’t going to help, she hoped he wasn’t going to stop—
“What do you need from me?”
His words came out calm and even. His expression was impassive.
JJ didn’t question either.
“I need you to be a distraction.”
* * *
The soundproofing of the doors was impressive. As soon as they closed behind Price, it was like he had stepped into an entirely different world.
It was quiet, for one. Not even the thump of the music behind him penetrated through. The same went for those chatting inside. Instead, Price only heard lowered voices and footfalls from the few guests who were walking to and from their destinations.
No one was stopping to chat.
That went double for Marty Goldman and the man in the black suit.
They weren’t wasting time to get to wherever they were going. Price was surprised at the distance between him and the two already.
He wasn’t the only one.
JJ had followed him into the hallway. He couldn’t see her but felt her tucked back at his flank.
JJ.
Lydia.
Price didn’t have time to sort out the bombshell she’d just dropped on him.
The only truth he knew and accepted was her belief that Marty Goldman was in danger and that the man in the black suit was the danger.
He wasn’t going to let that instinct go simply because he couldn’t see the whole picture he was apparently now a part of.
It helped that the more he closed the distance between him and the two men, the more he could tell something was wrong with them.
Marty, a man he knew by name and had seen a few times around town, was walking like a man who’d had too much to drink. There was an unevenness to it. A tilt. Barely there but like his body and brain couldn’t decide what either were supposed to do.
Go fast? Slow down? Stop? Run?
The man at his side, though, was the complete opposite.
He knew where he was going and just how he was getting there.
His gait was smooth, his clip even.
But where were they headed?
The hallway stretched the length of the building, only turning right into the rest of the paths and rooms in the convention center. Straight ahead, the hallway dead-ended into a window that stretched from floor to the two-story-high ceiling.
Was there another event happening deeper inside?
Or were they taking the exit to the outdoor area?
Maybe they were going to the bathrooms instead?
JJ slipped her hand into Price’s, pulling his attention enough to include her in it.
Her voice was a whisper next to his shoulder.
“Marty is panicking. Look at his shoulders.”
Price had been so focused on Marty’s walk that he hadn’t taken in the set of his shoulders.
She was right. They were stiff as a board, held high and rigid.
Not the look of someone who had had too many drinks and was being helped to the bathroom.
Then the first turn into a hallway happened. The men turned but had to step around an elderly couple walking in the opposite direction. It gave the man in the suit enough space to cut his gaze their way.
JJ’s hand disappeared from Price’s grasp.
“He can’t see me,” she said urgently.
Price didn’t think she had to worry about that.
The man in the suit made eye contact with Price and Price alone.
And they both held the gaze longer than they should have.
“Don’t follow us,” Price ordered, body already tensing in anticipation.
“What?”
Price undid the button holding his suit jacket closed.
“We’ve got a runner.”
JJ repeated the question, but the man proved Price right.
He ran, disappearing completely from view.
Price was right behind him.