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“Who gave those instructions?”
“Your wife, sir.”
His wife, indeed. Brittany would find herself back in the dorms with Vanessa. Impertinent creature. Married less than five days and already she had the nerve to defy him. That would end tonight.
He stormed down to the library and swung the door open, so he could make his way to the dormitory. He pressed the code and scanned the faces of the women. Blood drained from his face. Vanessa and Emmaline were absent. If they made it off the property, they had the power to bring him and the rest of the Continental Alliance to their knees. Only three people had the code to the door. Himself, Warden James, and his second in command. Wilhelm Adams. Warden had been with him from the start and with his father before him. He trusted him implicitly. On the other hand, the Adams family had been with the Alliance since its inception, so he couldn’t believe Wilhelm had a hand in the girls’ escape. It was a real conundrum. For the time being, he’d trust nobody but himself.
The immediate priority was for him to check and make sure the girls didn’t interrupt the party. If they did it would be a disaster. One that could only be cured with a sudden infusion of carbon monoxide. He refused to accept defeat. Shuffling back to the hall, he took in the scene in the ballroom.
All was well. His guests were enjoying themselves. He made his way over to Grayson and Jenna Garrison. “I trust you’re enjoying the evening.”
“We are.” Gray squinted at him. “You don’t look well. Are you ill?”
“No. No. I’m fine. Delightful in fact.” He cleared his throat. “We were interrupted before I could share the details of nature of our organization. An alliance I’m hoping to entice you to participate in.”
“Yes. Your alarm disrupted the moment. Perhaps we can set up a meeting. Call my office, and my assistant will get you on my schedule.”
“Of course, I’ll do that.” Mason bit back the cuss word he was on the verge of uttering. His father had taught him that the use of swear words were a sign of a weak vocabulary and a weaker mind. He agreed with sentiment, but sometimes it was hard to control one’s tongue.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gavinscannedthewoodsfor any sign of movement. Samantha remained close, but continued to refuse his assistance despite the blasted impractical shoes she wore.
“We should head back,” he said.
“You’re probably right. We’re not going to get far dressed for a black-tie affair. And the longer we’re gone the more suspicious it’ll look.”
“They probably think we’re necking in the backseat of Wade’s Bronco.”
She chuckled. “That would never happen.”
“I could make a compelling argument for why it should.”
She shook her head, and took a step losing her balance in the process. “Argh. Broke my heel.”
Her delicate fingers clutched his bicep as she removed her shoes. “Glad I didn’t spring for designer ones. These are replaceable.”
“You want to head home now that you’re shoeless? I can go in and make our excuses.”
“Yuck.”
“Huh?”
“I stepped in something. She touched her foot than raised her fingers to her nose.”
“Why would you sniff it?”
“Habit from work.” A frown wrinkled her forehead. “It’s blood. Coppery scent.”
He knelt and examined the spot swiping a finger through it. Reaching inside his jacket he pulled out a cotton swab and dabbed it in the blood, wrapped it inside his handkerchief, and stuck it back in his inside jacket pocket.
“You always carry q-tips?”
“They come in handy for a variety of things.”
“Hmm.”
“You’re right. It looks and smells like blood. Could belong to an animal, but could just as easily be human. If Cate is out here somewhere, we’ve got to find her. I wish I had my phone so I could use the flashlight function.”
