Chapter 20 Holt #2
“I hope you’ll at least give me the chance to change your mind,” Victoria purred back, her eyes sultry and alluring. “Perhaps you can take me to dinner soon.”
“Where are Clive and Sienna tonight?” Holt didn’t answer and moved the subject to a more comfortable one.
Victoria waved a hand as if the question bored her.
“They are out somewhere as they usually are.” Victoria sipped her wine. “Besides, they’re adults now, and I don’t spend my time worrying about their whereabouts.”
He watched her for a few seconds. His son was a grown man, but Holt still worried and checked up on him. Heck, Holt was in his sixties, and his mother still checked up on him.
“Did you hear there was an accident in Cedar Keys?” Holt asked, wanting to gauge Victoria’s reaction to the news. “It was Dr. Vernon.”
“Who is Dr. Vernon?” Victoria looked at him blankly, her expression completely void of emotion.
“The new vet,” Holt replied. “Dr. Vernon is working with Dr. Peltz.”
“Those twins are nuisances. I won’t miss them at all. Or their friend.” Victoria scoffed. Her eyes flashed angrily for a few seconds, and then her voice dipped. “That June Carter.”
Holt kept his face steady. It took effort, especially when she’d basically spat out June’s name as if it tasted unpleasant on her tongue.
“What have they ever done to you?” Holt asked, his tone as casual as he could muster. “To make you dislike them so much?”
Victoria lifted her wine glass and watched the candlelight ripple through it.
“I don’t dislike them,” Victoria told Holt. “They’re not worth my time or dislike.”
“They seem to be worth something,” Holt replied quietly. “They seem to irritate you quite a lot.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed, just a little.
“They get in the way and are everywhere!” Victoria hissed and then immediately shifted as if she’d heard her own words and disliked how they sounded. “Not in my way. I mean… they’ve never liked me. That’s all.”
Holt nodded slowly as if he believed her, though a cold unease was forming in his chest. There was something in her tone that had made the alarm bells ring in his head. It was as if she had spoken about them the way people spoke about obstacles, not people.
Holt let Victoria suddenly redirect the conversation when Victoria shut down any further discussion of Lucy, Lacey, and June.
So Holt sat politely and made small talk, but he mostly listened and watched Victoria very closely.
By the time dessert arrived, Holt had learned one important thing.
Victoria was a master at skirting around topics, and there was more going on behind her cold, aloof, disinterested stare.
And that made him suspicious and a little nervous of her.
When he finally stood and said he needed to leave because he had an early day, Victoria’s disappointment was immediate but controlled. She rose too, walking him toward the entrance with the slow, possessive grace of someone who believed she was escorting him out of her territory.
At the door, she turned toward him and leaned in.
Holt shifted at the last moment, offering his cheek when she went to kiss him. He refused to give her more than that.
Her lips pressed against his skin anyway, lingering. Her hand slid onto his chest, fingers splaying over his shirt as if she were testing his heartbeat.
His hand came up to grab hers, and she flinched, sucking in a breath as if in pain.
Holt’s gaze dropped.
There were scratches on her hand, thin red lines across the back of it. They were fresh and angry.
“Are you okay?” Holt asked. “What happened?”
Victoria’s expression flickered, irritation surfacing before she smoothed it away.
“A cat scratched me,” Victoria snapped angrily, looking at the damage on her porcelain skin. “That blasted cat of my daughter’s. Mr. Snuggles.” Her eyes narrowed angrily. “Trust me, the name does not fit that monster.”
As if summoned by the accusation, a large white cat launched itself off the stair bannister behind them and straight toward Holt’s head.
He moved instinctively, grabbing Victoria and pulling her aside.
The cat missed and landed with a soft thud and angry growl onto the floor.
The cat sat and stared at Holt with narrowed, accusing eyes, and its tail flicked angrily.
Then it hissed, low and unmistakable, before standing, turning, flicking its tail, and then walking away as if it had just snubbed them.
Victoria shook her head as if the cat had personally offended her. “I hate that furry monster,” Victoria sneered. Her angry eyes meet Holt’s. “I tried to put it outside last night, and it attacked me.”
Holt kept his expression neutral and forced his thoughts to stay steady when all he wanted to do was laugh. The cat did seem to be quite a terror. He swallowed the humor down and stepped over the threshold and onto the porch.
“Well, good night,” Holt said politely. “And thank you for a delicious dinner. Please give your chef my compliments.”
“It’s a pleasure, any time. And I will pass your compliments on to Andre.” Victoria’s smile returned. “Good night, Holt.”
Holt stepped out and walked down the front steps without looking back. Only once he reached the car did he let himself exhale fully.
He pulled his phone out as he slid into the driver’s seat of Rad’s car, intending to check the time and the messages he’d ignored through dinner.
A message from June was already waiting, and it made his heart leap.
I saw Lucy. She said Judy fought back. There was skin beneath her fingernails. Lucy agrees that we must be on the lookout for someone with scratches on their hands, arms, or even face.
Holt’s heart gave a hard, sharp thud.
His gaze lifted slowly, dragged by instinct rather than thought, and his eyes twisted back toward the Morrison house.
The scratches on Victoria’s hand flashed in his mind, bright and still fresh.
Holt’s grip tightened on the phone. He stared at that house for a long moment, his mind conjuring up the scratch marks on Victoria’s hand.
Could it have been Victoria? His brow furrowed, and he shook the thought away.
No, surely not. The woman was a lot of things, but capable of attempted murder, and not just once?
He gave himself a mental shake. It was quite possible the scratches on Victoria’s hand came from the cat, but if those scratches weren’t from a cat, then the game had just changed.
Yes, I want to read Book 4 — Secrets of Sandpiper Shores: Spark of Truth!