Page 12 of Deadly Misfortunes

“Miss Lassiter, please, we should head in the other direction.”

“Go. I’m not stopping you. You can pick up Mr. Landry’s money from me tomorrow. I can see now that three thousand dollars wasn’t enough money in the whole world to pay to entertain his friends and him.”

She stormed off toward her home again.

Raymond soon joined her.

“I don’t need the company.”

“I wouldn’t let you go alone.”

“Well, thanks. But I can take care of myself.” Especially if she stayed away from the target—Gregory.

“Yeah, well, you would do a better job of it if you would head the other way.”

After walking half a mile, headlights appeared from behind. She continued to walk, her chin jutted towards home, but Raymond glanced back. “Here’s our ride.”

Sascha turned and squinted her eyes. She’d never expected Gregory Landry to leave his party to rescue his driver and entertainer for the evening if that was who was driving the souped-up sports car. She crossed her arms and shivered in annoyance.

Gregory pulled his vehicle to a stop on the shoulder behind them, then rushed out of the car. “What happened?” he shouted, his long stride covering the distance between his driver’s seat and Sascha in an instant. Before she could say a word, he grabbed her arm and checked her over. “Are you okay?”

“Yah, yah, but I’m cold and wet.”

“And you’re hurt.” He pulled a blanket out of his car and wrapped it around her.

“How about you, Raymond?” Gregory hurried Sascha toward the passenger door to warm her up.

“He drove a red super cab pickup and rammed us before we made it across the bridge,” Raymond said as he climbed into the back of the car in the tiny half seat back there.

She balked. “I’m wet and muddy, and I’ll ruin the brand-new leather interior of your⁠—”

“Get in,” Gregory demanded, his tone further irritating her. “I’m taking you home and having you both checked out.”

She shrugged. “It’s your car.”

After she climbed in, he slammed the door shut. “What in the hell were you walking in that direction for?” Gregory asked Raymond as he got into the driver’s seat.

“The lady intended to return home. I told her it was safer and quicker to go to your place instead, Mr. Landry.”

Gregory shook his head. Raymond’s knees were tucked under his chin.

“The police will need both your statements.”

“I told Raymond I would return the money. I’m fine, and I don’t need to see anyone. I can talk to the police later. And though he didn’t say anything, Raymond suffered whiplash, no doubt.” Then she wondered if the real reason Gregory wanted her at his home was so he could get his money’s worth from her to entertain his guests. “You can’t seriously expect me to entertain your guests while wearing a coat of mud.”

“You’re about Rose’s build. She’ll loan you some clothes.”

He handed his cell phone to Raymond. “Call the police and my insurance agent. And the guy who details my cars.” Then he whipped the car around and headed back to his house.

“Yes, Mr. Landry.”

Sascha gritted her teeth in an attempt to stop them from chattering. “I told you that I would return the money. After what I went through tonight, I’m not in any shape or mood to entertain.”

He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed. He shoved the heater onto high.

“Take me home.”

“No. I would be remiss in not having you checked out and getting the details of what happened to the police.”