Tim’s fingers flew over the keyboard. A list appeared on the screen. “It’s programmed to send a full set of what’s in this file to every major newspaper, television station, and…”
“He planned on sending the pictures to every rag sheet, too.” Sam pulled Hap Wilson’s affidavit from her purse along with her father’s summary. She had planned to leave them on Preston’s desk for him to find in the morning but thought of a more devilish plan. She pointed to the piece of equipment on the two-drawer filing cabinet next to the desk. “What does this thing do?”
“That’s the scanner. You place the sheets in there and it scans it into the computer.”
Sam smiled. “And you can delete what he currently has in there?” When Tim nodded, Sam said, “Wonderful.”
She heard two raps on the door to the bedroom.
Poking her head around the door, Jackie announced, “All ready for you.”
The two women struggled with the dead weight of a sleeping Preston Hilliard. They got the top half of him into the bed, then swung his legs up and over.
Jackie positioned Preston, removing enough of his robe to prove he had nothing on underneath while still leaving vital parts covered. Sam slipped out of the blue dress, revealing a royal blue teddy.
“Have the camera?” Sam asked as she crawled into bed next to Preston.
“All set, girlfriend. This is going to be soooo much fun.”
Preston was propped up by three satin-covered pillows. Wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder, Sam leaned her head back, positioned the necklace so the lightning bolt pendant was in full view, then moved Preston’s right hand to her upper thigh.
Jackie snapped pictures as she giggled. Sam moved Preston’s head to her chest, pressed his head in close, and repositioned the necklace so it wasn’t covered.
“Now lean your head back and close your eyes like you are in complete ecstasy,” Jackie suggested.
“Oh, please. I’m going to puke.” But Sam did it anyway. “You are taking two sets of everything, right?”
“That’s right. One set for you. And one set that we are going to leave right here on his dresser.”
The women dressed quickly, covered Preston with the bedspread, left one set of pictures on the dresser, and returned to the study.
“All done?” Sam asked.
Tim grinned. “This is some of my best work ever.”
Chapter 67
“Yeh, baby. I’ll be home shortly. Abby’s packin’ us a late snack.” Frank winked at Abby as he spoke with Claudia on his cellular phone. “Did you tell Justin I’ll read him two stories tomorrow since I missed out tonight?… Okay, Sweetheart. See you soon.” He hung up the phone and joined Jake at the counter.
Jake stirred his coffee with deliberation. He and Frank had deposited Lincoln Thomas and his luggage in Carl’s suite. Lincoln’s signed affidavit confirmed what Hap Wilson had written about Mushima Valley. Carl needed time to figure out his next step. Until then, he had instructed Jake to still not share any information with Sam.
“Did Sam say when she’d be home?” Frank asked Abby.
“She said she was going to see a friend of hers — Jackie.”
They heard voices at the back door, laughing, school-girl giggling.
“You should keep the dress, Sam. You never know when you and Preston might have another date,” Jackie said.
When they reached the doorway to the kitchen, the two women stopped. Frank, Jake, and Abby stared in amazement.
“Jackie,” Abby said suddenly, her eyes taking in the short length of Sam’s dress. “I don’t believe you’ve met Jake Mitchell and Frank Travis.”
“My, my.” Jackie stretched her long talons toward them. “Hello, boys. Why didn’t they have guys like you when the cops busted me in my youth?”
Frank smiled broadly, finding it hard to peel his eyes from Jackie’s well-endowed figure, Donna Summer hair, and appealing smile.
“What’s this about Preston?” Jake asked abruptly.
“Preston. I almost forgot.” Jackie reached into her purse and pulled out the pictures.
“NO!” Sam said quickly, but she was too late. Jake grabbed the pictures.
“WOW! Frank yelled from over Jake’s shoulder. Abby leaned over the counter to have a look, then turned away, a smile spreading over her face.
The necklace was in plain sight in all of the pictures. It was difficult for anyone to tell that Preston was not in control of his faculties.
Jake threw the pictures on the counter yelling, “SHIT!” He leaped to his feet. “You better tell me this is the only set.”
“Uh, oh.” Jackie took one step backward. “I think this is my cue.” She pointed at Sam’s feet. “My two- hundred-dollar shoes, girlfriend.”
“Three hours ago they were worth one hundred and fifty,” Sam argued, stepping out of the royal blue heels.
“Inflation, baby.” Jackie gave a wave of her hand to the guys saying, “Nice meeting you.” To Abby she said, “Nice seeing you again.”
Frank raised a finger as if a light bulb switched on in his head. He looked at Jackie and asked, “Do you deal blackjack by any chance?”
“Uhhh…” Jackie glanced sharply at Sam, then said, “Gotta go.”
“She was at Preston’s, wasn’t she?” Frank asked Sam after Jackie left.
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you weren’t dealing blackjack, that night, too.” Sam didn’t reply.
Feeling another argument brewing, Frank slapped Jake on the back saying, “Uh, later.” He picked up the container of cake, thanked Abby, and left.
Sam had never been on the receiving end of Jake’s interrogative scowl before. His face was such a mask of contradiction — one minute grinning, mischievous, ruggedly good looking; the next minute menacing, frightening, threatening.
She felt the air move as Abby slipped past her and disappeared down the hallway. The sound of an owl hooting drifted in through the patio screen. Sam folded her arms in front of her and waited.
“What were you trying to do? Blackmail Preston into admitting he killed Hap Wilson?”
“I don’t need to.” She noticed Jake was wearing her father’s arrowhead necklace and leather wristband but before she could say anything, he lifted up one of the pictures, his tight grip crimping one of the corners.
“Just look. You know he’s going to see the pin.”
“That’s the plan.”
He slapped the pictures on the counter again. “You are dealing with a dangerous man. If Preston is involved in Hap’s and your father’s deaths, he went through a lot of trouble to cover his tracks. He’s not above making sure his secret stays dead. I think that intruder who tripped the perimeter alarm the other night was Preston’s handyman.”
“You’re getting paranoid.” Sam turned and headed toward the study.
“Don’t walk away from me.” Jake followed her.
“Who gave you the right to give me orders in my house?”
Jake glared at Sam’s punked hair, her bright eye shadow, the thick lipstick. “Go wash that shit off your face.”
Her mouth gaped. “Excuse me? I thought my father passed away.”
“I thought his daughter grew up.”
Sam bolted up the stairs to her bedroom, noticing that Abby’s bedroom door was conveniently closed. Where was she when Jake was at his worst? She took a hot shower and washed her hair.
