Losing Ladd (8 page)

The
perpetrator
.

Slowing for a red light, Felicity
still believed it was her father. He was the only one with ties to
both Troy and Felicity. Why he didn’t release Sadie was a question
left unanswered, but maybe he ran out of time. Maybe someone walked
in on him, and he had to get out quick before he was
discovered.

A kid on bicycle sped across her path.
Barefoot and shirtless, the kid couldn’t be more than ten. Peering
at the boy, she glanced around for a nearby adult. Spotting no one
who appeared to be with him, Felicity wondered about his safety.
Were kids allowed to bike through the center of town on their own
at that age?

Her mom would have had a
fit. Even Travis’ parents wouldn’t have allowed such a thing. With
no parent in sight, Felicity watched as the boy jumped the curb and
turned down a side street, pedaling as fast as his legs would take
him. Trailing his figure, Felicity caught sight of a familiar face.
She stilled.
Two
familiar faces. Up above, the light turned green but Felicity
remained fixed in place.

Was that her father?

And Jillian
Devane
?

Her pulse skipped as she zeroed in on
the couple. Lingering outside a two-story building, Jack and
Jillian stood idle by his truck. Felicity recognized and assumed
the silver sedan next to it belonged to Jillian Devane.

Jillian Devane. Her mind
still couldn’t absorb the fact. What was she doing here? Running a
hand up Jack Foster’s chest, the woman leaned into him and kissed
his cheek.
Oh my gosh--
Felicity’s gaze darted upward to the hotel sign. Had they
spent the night together?

At the honk from behind,
she jammed her foot to the accelerator. She had to call her mother.
As soon as she arrived at Fran’s, she had to let her mom know what
was happening. Jillian and her father,
together
. Revulsion shimmied through
Felicity’s midsection. Could the news get any worse?

Jeremiah Ladd dropped his cohorts at a
waffle joint then drove back to the motel to clear his head. He
needed time to think, to plan, and he needed it without the
annoying presence of those two idiots. The gold was gone, the land
raped by Delaney and her arrogant husband. As if they weren’t
making enough money with the hotel they built on the property, they
had to dig out every last flake and sell it. He’d needed that
money. After getting his marker paid, the debt he’d racked up
against the casino, he needed money for payback and to start over.
Money that belonged to him. Ladd Springs was his family’s land, not
Delaney’s. She was a Wilkins. She didn’t deserve Ladd
Springs.

Anger and resentment coiled through
his chest as he drove familiar streets on autopilot. If Delaney and
her daughter hadn’t conned his old man out of the land, Jeremiah
would have inherited it upon his death. A death that couldn’t have
happened early enough. Thinking back to his last encounter with his
father, Jeremiah recalled the hatred in the old man’s eyes, the
rage.

Too bad they didn’t finish
the job
.

In the space of one sentence, Jeremiah
had suspected his father was responsible for the anonymous beating
he received, left for the dead on the streets of the worst section
in town. Bile rose at the memory. Ernie Ladd had thrust his gun
into the screen door, threatening to pull the trigger of the
shotgun he held. Heart thumping, Jeremiah was disturbed the
thoughts still drew a reaction from him. Growing up with Ernie Ladd
for a father had been a rotten existence. It would have been the
icing on the cake to cause his death, but he never had the chance.
The old man died while Jeremiah was sitting in a jail—sitting in a
jail because Delaney’s rat of a husband called the authorities in
Vegas, alerting them to his whereabouts, leading them by the nose
to his hometown where that weak-kneed Gavin Shore arrested him for
the money he owed a casino. Anger surged.

Well, guess what? Time to pay up,
boys. Plan B was about to go into action. Yanking his cell phone
from the center console, Jeremiah dialed the number and waited
through the rings.

“
Hello?”

“
Time to ramp it up,”
Jeremiah said, staring ahead through his windshield, the roofline
of his motel coming into sight.

“
Talk to me.”

“
Can you meet later this
afternoon?”

“
Shouldn’t be a
problem.”

“
Good.”

“
What’s your
plan?”

“
I’ll call you back,”
Jeremiah clipped, then ended the call. He didn’t know exactly how
he was going to make Delaney and the rest of them pay, but pay they
would. Jeremiah would hit them where it hurt. He’d do whatever it
took. Passing a seed and feed store, he honed in on a horse trailer
parked out front. A slow smile crept onto Jeremiah’s lips as an
idea began to form in his mind.

Jack Foster and his mother Victoria
sat in the waiting room of Hank Dakota’s law firm. His mother paid
to have Hank on retainer, even though he wasn’t representing them.
His office would serve as a meeting place for their attorneys out
of Nashville who were representing them in the case against Troy
and Delaney.

“
I’ll talk to you then,”
Jack said into this cell phone then slid it back into his
pocket.

“
Who was that?” Victoria
asked.

“
An old
friend.”

“
What kind of old
friend?”

Jack smirked.

Victoria glowered at his evasive
response but Jack couldn’t care less. He wasn’t about to reveal the
identity of his “old friend” because it could muddy the waters of
her support—support he needed. The trial was set to begin in two
weeks and the firm his mother hired was finalizing their attack
plan, meeting today to go over strategy. Jack glanced at his gold
watch. Eleven fifty-nine. They were late. Fifteen minutes
late.

“
Don’t get into any kind
of trouble before the trial,” Victoria warned.

“
What’s the matter, Momma?
Don’t you trust that I know how to stay clean?”

She flashed an angry gaze that said
she did not. Jack chuckled. Patting her arm on the armrest between
them, he said, “There’s nothing going on that will jeopardize our
case. On the contrary, I’ve got allies that can only work to help
our cause.”

“
What allies?”

“
Secret weapon allies,” he
said, glancing up as a flood of sunlight spilled in through the
opened front door. The Nashville team had arrived. Jack rose to his
feet, assisting his mother to do likewise.

Three men dressed in full suits, all
dark, all pin-striped, filled the modest lobby of the Dakota Law
Firm. Two wing chairs, a potted plant and a cheesy landscape
picture hung on the wall lined with waynes coating, the office
appeared beneath them. The tallest man in the middle took charge,
his gray hair implying a senior status. “Good afternoon, Mrs.
Foster. Mr. Foster.”

“
Good afternoon,” his
mother replied politely, though Jack knew she wasn’t happy to be
kept waiting.

Dispensing with all pretense, the man
asked, “You two ready to get started?”

“
I was ready fifteen
minutes ago,” Jack replied, ignoring the displeasure curling his
mother’s gaze.
Manners should always be
maintained, despite one’s personal feelings
. He’d heard the mantra day in and day out growing up with
her. He didn’t need the reminder.

Unaffected, the man glanced toward the
conference room just as Hank Dakota emerged from his
office.

“
Good to see you, Samuel,”
Hank greeted warmly, his navy blue and green plaid button-down a
stark contrast to the professionally dressed men. He looked more
like a farmhand than an experienced attorney.

“
Sorry we’re running
late,” the man replied. “Traffic accident on I-24.”

“
No problem,” Hank
replied. “Shall we get started?” Hank flicked the light on as he
entered the conference room, the gentlemen filing in behind
him.

Jack grumbled to his mother about the
likelihood of the man’s excuse, but followed them in without
further protest.

In the back office, Travis sat hunched
over the computer, legal pad and pen to the right of the keyboard.
As expected, Hank Dakota offered no protest to his request for
computer access. Over Christmas break he’d offered his computer,
saying Travis had an open-door invitation to do research. Mr.
Dakota said he was glad to see another sharp mind entering the
field of law and was counting on Travis working summers for him, a
deal to which Travis readily agreed. Interning for an attorney
would be an invaluable asset on his application to law school, not
to mention the experience he’d gain. While Mr. Dakota had indicated
he was meeting with clients this morning and couldn’t be of help to
him directly, he didn’t mention who they were. But as he excused
himself, voices carried, easily identifying those in attendance as
Jack and Victoria Foster.

Clenching his jaw, Travis clicked
through screens on the monitor before him. The Fosters were here to
meet with counsel regarding the impending trial against Troy and
Felicity’s mom. According to Felicity, Mrs. Foster had hired a firm
out of Nashville to argue their case, most likely in response to
Mr. Harris’ decision to hire a group out of Chattanooga for Troy’s
defense—a blockbuster group with a reputation for winning even the
toughest cases.

Travis hoped they raked the Fosters
over the coals, leaving lasting marks. It was disgraceful what they
were doing to Troy, Mrs. Foster in particular. Felicity’s father
was saving his own skin. Criminals like Jack Foster always lied to
save their butt from jail, but his mother’s involvement is what
enabled the travesty. Without her money and connections to Gavin
Shore and other members of the police department, Jack Foster would
have gotten nowhere fast. Travis might have his differences with
his brother, but he would not stand by and allow people to make a
mockery of the justice system or a fool of his family.

Shaking off the frustration, Travis
worked to clear his mind, concentrating on the information
displayed on the screen. Someone paid Jeremiah’s marker to the
casino and that payment could be traced. He’d called the casino and
learned the bank used for such purposes. Now he had to get the
routing number. Every bank had one, kind of like a person had a
social security number. It was specific to them. Clicking through
screens on the Federal Reserve’s website, Travis searched for the
bank in question. He knew the amount of money in question. Knew
Jeremiah’s name, his driver’s license number, his last known
address in Atlanta, though he wasn’t sure the latter was necessary.
The man had been in jail in Nevada. That was an easier
find.

Once he pinpointed the bank, he could
work backwards and find the debit bank. A phone call with the
beneficiary bank information and recipient’s information should get
him one step closer to discovering who originated the transaction.
Then he’d be one step closer to tying a direct line between
Jeremiah Ladd and his accomplice. Next, Travis would work to
establish motive. Despite Felicity’s assertion that her father was
responsible for setting the horses free, Travis believed her mom
was on a better track. Jeremiah was the one who promised revenge.
He was the one who hated the hotel and everyone connected to it. It
was likely him behind the horse fiasco.

But who paid the money to get him out
of jail? Travis clicked his mouse as he scrolled through screen
after screen, speed-reading the names and lists. It would take a
bit of time, some well-placed phone calls, but Travis was confident
he could get to the bottom of it. Then he’d share the information
with the authorities, and Felicity and her mom would know who was
responsible and take the appropriate actions.

Chapter Seven

Troy walked clear of the trail and
into the meadow, Spirit plodding methodically behind him. In the
distance, the hotel was barely visible. Hidden away in the
mountain, its walls were partially obscured by trees and
underbrush, windows allowing guests to see out better than
passersby could see in. It had been an amazing transformation. He
hadn’t been here for the entire process, but he knew this property
like his own. He loved it like his own. The fact that someone was
trying to destroy it rubbed him raw. Whoever tried to harm the
horses was going to hear from him. First stop needed to be the
stables. He needed to deliver Spirit safe and sound to Miss
Delaney, but he also needed to consult with someone regarding the
appearance of Jeremiah Ladd in the forest. He could tell Miss
Delaney, but Troy felt her attention would be better fixed on her
horses. Hopefully Travis and Felicity found Blue, and her hands
would be full caring for the animals. Troy pulled the cell phone
from his pocket and called Felicity.

“
Hello?”

“
Did you find Blue?” Troy
asked.

“
Yes. She was down by the
river. How about you?”

“
Spirit’s with me now. I’m
walkin’ him back to the stables.”