Chapter Twelve
On Saturday evening, the Annual Reston Hills Charitable Gala, held at the Menakerr Center on Sallis Way in downtown Reston Hills, was in full swing.
A five-member band was onstage performing live upbeat music, with author book readings, performances by talented children, an auction to raise money for local programs and enough interesting food choices to go around.
Stefanie felt slightly out of her element as she stood in the auction room, wearing a lilac cap-sleeve gown with strap sandals.
Her hair was in chignon. Standing on one side of her was Campbell, who was resplendent in a crisp gray suit and tie over a baby blue shirt, worn with black oxfords.
On the other side was Bella, who was stunning as always, in a sleek, black one-shoulder ponté knit gown and matching pointed-toe pumps.
Next to her was Bella’s date for the gala, Russell Kercheval, a fortysomething pro golfer, who was tall and slender, with wavy salt-and-pepper hair in a side-swept style.
He wore a black tuxedo and black derby shoes. According to Bella, it wasn’t serious.
Stefanie took her word for that, knowing that Bella seemed content at the moment to play the field while putting her efforts into being the perfect ambassador for Reston Hills.
Bella, one arm tucked beneath Russell’s, flashed her teeth at Stefanie and Campbell, and asked, “Hope you’re having fun?”
“Absolutely,” Campbell said in an upbeat voice, holding a flute of champagne.
“I feel the same,” Stefanie assured her, wanting the gala to be a big success.
“Me too.” Russell grinned and kissed Bella on the cheek. “Always fun to be in your company, Bella.”
“Then we’re all in agreement.” Bella laughed, seeming to soak in the compliment. “Now, let’s see if the auction can bring in some big bucks for the right programs and causes…”
“I’m happy to do my part,” Stefanie told her, “with my donation of free yoga and tai chi lessons for two winning bidders, respectively.”
Campbell pitched in, “As am I, having offered a free trail ride for two at my father’s horse ranch in nearby Fallon’s Creek.”
“They’re great donations!” Bella’s face lit up. “And should fetch some nice bids.”
“As should the free golf lessons that I was happy to donate,” Russell said, as if not wanting to be outdone.
“Another winning ticket for would-be golfers,” Bella exclaimed. “Thank you, Russ.”
He beamed. “Anytime.”
After Bella made her way to the podium, with Russell close behind, Campbell commented, “She really is made for these civic duties and keeping her great-grandfather’s town alive and well, with a bright future.”
“True.” Stefanie smiled and sipped her champagne. She couldn’t help but wonder if their own future had brightness written all over it. They seemed to be headed in the right direction, giving her reason for being optimistic.
She wished she felt the same way about Jasmine Roxburgh. If it were up to Stefanie, she would just as soon see Jasmine leave the Braison Family. But clearly this was something that she was reluctant to do, as if Kenneth and company had a hold on her that Jasmine couldn’t break free of.
I can only hope that she protects herself from harm, even if that means getting out of there, Stefanie thought. She wondered if this was what had proved to be Mia’s downfall—being unable to escape danger. Even if it was staring her right in the face. Till it was too late to prevent her own death.
Campbell got her attention when he asked Stefanie, “I heard music coming from the ballroom. Can I have this dance?”
Stefanie didn’t necessarily consider dancing to be her strong suit, but with Campbell she felt she was up for just about anything. So, she responded readily, “Of course. Let’s go dance…”
* * *
CAMPBELL WAS ONLY too happy to get Stefanie on the dance floor to a nice slow and sensual torch song the band was playing.
It gave them an opportunity to show off as one of the newest couples in Reston Hills—competing, he suspected, for that honor with Bella and Russell, who seemed really into each other.
Campbell wasn’t at all surprised to see that dancing with Stefanie, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder, seemed entirely natural and she felt damned good in his arms in a public setting.
To say nothing of how wonderful she felt in a private setting, where only they could see what one another brought to the table in terms of affection and intimacy.
He could only imagine how much more they had to offer to each other, while reaping the benefits left and right. North and south. East and west.
“You’re pretty good at this,” Stefanie told him, bringing Campbell back into focus with the moment at hand and the gala, which looked to be an enormous success for the community.
He held her a little closer as they danced, and replied, “I could say the same for you. Guess that means that we make one hell of a couple on the dance floor.”
“That, we do.” She laughed. “And not so bad off the floor as well.”
Campbell chuckled, in total agreement. He kissed Stefanie, tasting the champagne off her mouth. “You’ve got that right.” Honestly, he could dance the night away with her every night—given the way their bodies molded together in total harmony—were there not other things both had on their plates.
As it was, for him, there remained the Mia O’Dell case to solve.
There was still a question as to who supplied her the fentanyl-carfentanil concoction.
And whether or not it was for nefarious reasons, over and beyond the illegality associated with drug dealing that resulted in a death.
Until these things could be answered, there would be no rest for the weary as far as the case was concerned.
Along with that, Campbell still could not shake the feeling that Mia’s death was connected in some meaningful way with the death of Lynda Boxleitner—apart from, or perhaps in conjunction with, both women being members of the Braison Family.
Or maybe he was reading this wrong and only wanted that to be true as a way to clear up both his case and the cold case his father left behind.
When the song ended—too soon, as far as Campbell was concerned—Stefanie suggested they head back to the auction to see if Bella presented anything that might be worth bidding on for them.
“I’m game for that,” Campbell responded.
Stefanie smiled. “Good. Maybe later, we can get in another dance or whatever you’d like to do.”
“Sounds good,” he said wistfully, taking her hand as they headed out of the ballroom.
* * *
THAT NIGHT, THEY went back to Stefanie’s house and wasted little time before ending up in her bedroom.
Campbell took one look around at the attractive MCM furniture, then zeroed in on the bamboo-platform queen-size bed with an aquamarine comforter.
Picturing Stefanie beneath it, naked and ready, got him aroused.
“So, what’s next?” he teased her after pulling her close to him.
“Um…” Her lashes batted flirtatiously. “Any suggestions…?”
“Yeah, I have one.” Campbell cupped her cheeks and kissed her lips. He loved the softness of them.
“Just one?” she uttered into his mouth.
He grinned desirously. “For starters.”
They kissed again. Minutes later, hot and bothered, they were in bed and deep into foreplay. After Campbell slipped on protection, mutual stimulation slowly but surely turned into lovemaking, where each gave as much—if not more—than they received, stretching well into the night.
Running his hands through Stefanie’s long hair while they made love was a turn-on for Campbell all on its own.
As well as hearing her cry out when an orgasm caused her body to respond spasmodically.
His climax came shortly after and was equally intense, his breathing heightened during the peak moment of satisfaction.
Stefanie giggled from atop him. “You’re insatiable. Or maybe I’m the guilty party here.”
Campbell laughed, enjoying the weight of her against his body. “I think we’re both into each other enough to make a full confession,” he said jokingly.
“I agree.” She leaned over and gave him a long kiss, before rolling off him.
While they lay there catching their breath and allowing their heart rates to get back to normal, all Campbell could think of was that this was something he never wanted to see end.
But it went beyond that. He was starting to feel something akin to love, even if it still needed a bit more time being spent together.
But his gut instinct told him that Stefanie was a special woman who was roping him in like one of his dad’s quarter horses.
And he didn’t mind her being at the reins one bit.
* * *
ON SUNDAY MORNING, Stefanie sat with Campbell at the Notton Street Café. They were waiting for Jasmine, who Stefanie had managed to talk into slipping away from the Braison Family ranch and speaking with Campbell about her suspicions surrounding Mia’s death.
Maybe nothing will come out of it, Stefanie told herself as she drank her coffee.
But at least Campbell was open to an informal chat with Jasmine—the one person from the cult who seemed willing to speak her mind about its inner workings and how this may have played a pivotal role in Mia’s lethal overdose—considering that Jasmine was panicked at the thought of meeting with Campbell for an official interview.
Stefanie thought, Can I really blame her? After Mia’s death and the hold Kenneth Braison seemed to have over his followers, challenging his authority was a risky venture at best. And could prove to be a fatal move at worst.
Fortunately, Campbell took this into consideration as he welcomed an insider’s perspective on what she knew and didn’t know about the Braison Family. And Kenneth, in particular.
For her part, Stefanie felt an obligation to bring the two together, since Jasmine had reached out to her for help. At least it felt that way when reading between the lines, irregular as they may have been.