Savannah's Curse (2 page)

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Authors: Shelia M. Goss

BOOK: Savannah's Curse
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1
Six months later . . .
“Happ—py birthday to youuuu and many moooore,” sang Montana and Asia. They blew on the party horns and threw the confetti in the air. It fell everywhere, messing up Savannah's recently styled Shirley Temple–curled hair.
Savannah shook some of the confetti off the top of her head before leaning over the purple rose-trimmed flat sheet cake and blowing out the flames above the 3 and 0. Normally, she wouldn't mind partying, but this year she didn't feel like celebrating. She faked a smile and tried to join in the fun. She didn't want her sisters to know how her heart ached not seeing their father standing beside them.
After the funeral Savannah had decided to sell her town house and moved back into their family home. At first it was hard, because her mind kept playing, over and over, the scene of finding her father. Montana tried to convince her to sell, but she wasn't having it. She agreed to buy them out of their share, but neither Montana nor Asia would accept her money. Savannah put her plans of starting her own project-management consulting firm on hold and took a sabbatical from her highly paid six-figure job. She had money saved, so, thanks to smart investments and her share of her father's life insurance policy, money was not an issue.
Savannah felt like the detectives handling her father's murder were incompetent. They were no closer to finding her father's killer than they were six months ago. She decided to get out of her depressed state and take action. In order for her to move on with her life, she needed closure, and the only way to do that was to find out who had murdered her father. Her task now was convincing her sisters to join her on the quest. Finding the right time to bring it up filled her mind as her sisters showered her with birthday greetings.
Asia, wearing a short blue jean mini-dress, handed her a gift bag. “I hope you like it.”
Savannah pulled the purple tissue paper out and smiled when she pulled out a box collection of her favorite singer's CDs. Nothing cheered her up more than listening to songs by Aretha Franklin. Aretha Franklin's music reminded her of their mother. Her mother would always sing Aretha tunes around the house.
“Thank you, sis,” she said as she hugged her.
Montana cleared her throat. Not wanting to be left out, she handed over, with her perfect manicured nails, a huge box with a red velvet bow around it.
Without hesitating, Savannah removed the bow. “Thanks for the foot spa tub. I could really use it.” Savannah hoped she sounded convincing.
“Don't be jealous that my gift is more sentimental,” Asia said.
“Whatever.” Montana held up her hand in a “talk to the hand” gesture.
Some things never changed. Ever since they were little, Montana and Asia were competitive. With a twoyear age difference between the two, they fought for Savannah's attention, their father's, and whoever else would give them the time of day. Their father never dissuaded them, because he thought it would help prepare them for the real world. Although Montana was now twenty-seven, and Asia was twenty-five, to watch them spar could be comical yet irritating. Savannah didn't think they even realized how ridiculous they looked.
Savannah looped an arm through each one of her sisters as they walked to the living room. “Let's do karaoke.”
They spent the next hour singing to Aretha Franklin tunes, dancing and laughing. Savannah didn't want to end her birthday on a sour note, but she had a plan to avenge their father's death, and she would need their help.
“I have a few leads on who killed Daddy,” Savannah said as they were almost through cleaning up the kitchen.
Montana and Asia looked at one another. Neither said a word. Montana wiped the same clean spot on the stove over and over. Asia washed the remainder of the dishes. The quiet was deafening.
“You are becoming obsessed with this.” Montana waved the dish towel back and forth.
“He was our dad too, but, Savannah, you have to let this go,” Asia added.
Savannah didn't respond.
Montana broke the silence. “What? What do you want from us? I'll do anything to wipe that pathetic look off your face.”
“That's what I wanted to hear. Can you both come over tomorrow after you get off work? I have some things we need to discuss.”
Montana crossed her arms. “I'm not going anywhere until you tell us everything now.”
Asia's cell phone rang. She looked at the display and opted not to answer. “He can wait.”
“Another one of your flunkies,” Montana commented.
“At least I have someone,” she responded.
“Enough already!” Savannah screamed.
“Sorry,” Montana mumbled.
Savannah pulled a box out from under a kitchen cabinet. They followed her to the kitchen table as Savannah removed several papers and pictures. She handed each one of her sisters copies of some of her notes. “We need to find out who killed dad.”
“We?” Asia asked.
“Yes, us. I can't do this by myself. Dad taught each one of us special skills, and although we all have chosen other careers, I think it's time that we put those skills to use.”
Montana ran her hand through her short-cropped hair. “Why don't we just hire someone?”
“To do what? Tell him if he finds the killer, we want him killed. I'm not trying to spend a day behind bars,” Asia snapped.
“Both of you need to chill out. No one's going to jail.” Savannah looked at Montana. “And we're going to find the killer ourselves.”
Montana still didn't sound convinced. “Let's take a vote,” she said.
“No need. I'm with Savannah. Dad would do the same for us,” Asia responded.
“Should have known you would side with her,” Montana mumbled.
Savannah ignored her. “Now that it's settled, I've printed out duplicate copies of information that you'll need to know.” She handed them each some papers containing her notes on possible suspects. “Don't let this out of your sight. Review them and meet me back here tomorrow night.”
Savannah watched them as they scanned the papers. She normally wouldn't put them in this situation, but there was no way she could live with herself if she didn't exhaust all avenues to locate their father's killer. “Dad was our protector, but some people might not like us digging into his murder. We need to take some precautions.”
“What's this?” Montana asked as Savannah went to hand her a .38 Special, fully loaded.
Asia took her gun and inspected it. “I know you haven't forgotten how to shoot. ‘Ms. think she can shoot better than me,'” Asia stated.
Savannah ignored Asia. “This is from Dad's collection. I know you don't like guns, but with everything that has happened, I think it's best.”
Reluctantly Montana took the weapon and placed it in her purse.
A short time later, Savannah watched from the living-room window as her sisters entered their cars and left to go home. Due to it being quiet in the house, Savannah's body jerked at the sounds of the floor creaking near her. She didn't have any pets, so the creak had to mean one thing—an intruder had invaded her space. She could see someone in her peripheral vision. Savannah's natural instinct kicked in. With a quick, effortless spin around, she used some of her martial arts skills and ducked and did a sly kick, causing her surprise guest to fumble. With another move she had the culprit on the floor. She straddled his back, holding both of his arms. If she moved his left arm a few more inches, it would snap.
“Wait. I'm here to help,” the somewhat-familiar voice of the strange man said between clenched teeth.
“Who are you?” Savannah asked.
“Let me up and I'll tell you.”
Savannah tightened her grip. “Wrong answer.”
“Ouch. I'm Bridges.”
“Name doesn't sound familiar.”
“I'm a friend of your father's.”
Savannah wasn't sure if she could trust him. His words made her recall her father mentioning the name Bridges on his dying breath. She used her free hand and scratched the back of her head.
“I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining, but you have a mean grip on my arm, and it's hurting,” the man said.
Savannah's surprise guest's voice did sound familiar. He also wore a familiar scent. It reminded her of the cologne her ex-boyfriend wore—Unforgivable. Bridges sneaking into her house uninvited was unforgivable. The urge to run her hands over his smooth, bald brown head left as quickly as it had come. She shook her head. What was she thinking? This man could be working with the man who killed her dad. She released both arms and moved her 150-pound frame from the top of his back.
As he stood up, she got a good look at the guy who called himself Bridges. His muscular build was no match for a woman who was trained to take men down three times her size. His cream-colored shirt and khaki pants were a little wrinkled from the attack. Bridges really did look so much like her ex-boyfriend. Savannah had to blink twice to make sure he wasn't a mirage—a strange figment of her imagination.
He moved his arms forward, rubbing both of them. “Thanks.”
Savannah reached into the drawer of the table behind her without taking her eyes off him. He looked surprised to see her point a Glock at him. “You have five minutes and then I'm calling the cops.”
“Four minutes.” Something about his eyes was familiar to Savannah.
He reached for his pocket. Savannah clicked back the Glock. The sound stopped him. “I need to show you this e-mail I got from Major. From your dad.”
Savannah patted her foot. “Go ahead, but I must warn you. If I see anything shiny, I'm shooting first and asking questions later.”
Bridges removed his black wallet and took out a folded sheet of paper. He hesitantly walked closer to her, and was about to hand it to her, when Savannah said, “Hold it up.”
He did as instructed. Her eyes scanned the piece of paper. He could have forged the e-mail; but for now, she would pretend to trust him. That is, until she could find out more about who this Bridges guy was, and how he knew her dad. A little relief swept through her body as she lowered her gun, but she refused to take her hand off the trigger.
“Have a seat,” she said as she motioned for him to move forward toward the living room. “Excuse the paper. My sisters and I were celebrating. Well, anyway, it doesn't matter. Just tell me how you knew my father.”
“Savannah, it's me.”
Savannah stared at him with a blank expression.
He continued, “It's me . . . Troy.”
Savannah blinked her eyes a few times. So many questions ran through her mind. She always imagined what she would say or do if she ever saw Troy again. In her fantasies she would make love to him first, and then curse him out later. Now that he was actually sitting here in the flesh, Savannah was speechless. Her mind flashed back ten years. Ten years ago, she was a starry-eyed college student head over heels in love with Troy Nelson, not Troy Bridges. Regardless of what name he was using now, Troy left her heartbroken, and for that, she should aim the gun and shoot him in the heart. Fortunately for him, she loved her freedom too much.
2
Troy didn't expect to be manhandled by the beauty, who stood five feet six inches tall. When he approached the house, he had heard Savannah and her sisters; he wanted to catch her by herself. From what Major had told him, Savannah and his other daughters were more than capable of taking care of themselves. His task now was to convince Savannah that she needed him as much as he needed her. She had some key information somewhere in this house, and he decided to go about it the right way. With his training, Troy could have done a sweep of the house, and, most likely, she never would have known he was there. But then again, if memory served him correctly, Savannah was a stickler for things being out of place and would have noticed if one item had been moved. He hadn't counted on his old feelings for Savannah to resurface so soon. There was barely a day that went by that Troy didn't think about her.
Troy had kept up to date via Savannah's father on the comings and goings of her life. She was definitely a knockout, literally and figuratively speaking. He wished he could have met her under normal circumstances. Troy recalled the few months of peace and joy Savannah had brought to his life ten years ago. She had a way of making him feel good, in and out of the bedroom. The look she gave him now was a far cry from how she used to look at him. If looks could kill, he would be six feet under.
“I don't have all night,” Savannah said as she stared at him with her piercing ebony eyes.
Troy contemplated how much he wanted to reveal to Savannah. He decided to go the honest approach; well, as honest as he could be in the line of work he was accustomed to.
“Major was my lead operative. He was who I reported to while out in the field.” Troy held back his emotions. He didn't want Savannah to see how much seeing her in person affected him. Major's loss hurt him too. Major understood him and always had his back when he would go about handling cases in nontraditional ways. Major was the one who encouraged him to start his own private-security firm.
Savannah watched with curiosity. She sensed something besides a boss/colleague affiliation. She could tell Troy had more of a personal relationship with her father, and she wanted to know how personal.
“My dad never talked about you.” Savannah couldn't help but wonder how Troy and her dad's paths crossed. She met Troy while attending college and no one knew about their love affair, or so she thought. How did Troy end up working for SNA, the Securities National Agency known more commonly as “The Agency”?
“It was standard that we were not to discuss our business affairs with our family. That way, if any assignment went awry, the less our families knew, the safer they would be.”
Savannah crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “That's why I hate secrets now.”
“Your dad loved you all. He always talked about you.”
“That's odd, because I can't recall ever hearing him speak of you, or hardly anyone else for that matter from work. The only person I know of is Uncle Raymond.” The sparkle in Savannah's eyes disappeared.
Troy was tempted to reach over and comfort Savannah, but he knew any movement from him could result in him being back down on the floor. This time however he would be prepared. A sly grin formed at the thought.
“Your dad thought it would be best if he didn't talk about our missions with you and your sisters. The less you knew, the safer you would be. Well, that's what he thought, anyway,” Troy stated.
“How do I know you're telling me the truth?”
“You'll have to trust me.”
Savannah grunted. “Try again.”
Troy shifted in his seat. “Your uncle Raymond is my ex-boss. You can call him and confirm, if you like.”
“I just might do that.”
Savannah pressed a button on her cell phone. The phone beeped to indicate it was on speaker. He watched her dial ten digits without once taking her eyes off him. They both listened to the high-pitched rings.
“Baby girl, how are you?” Uncle Raymond asked.
“I'm fine. I was going through Dad's stuff and had a few questions.”
There was silence on the other end. Savannah was the first to speak. “Uncle Raymond, you're there?”
“Yes, dear. I was in the middle of something. Can I call you back?” he asked.
“It'll only take a few minutes. I promise.”
“Okay. Well, hurry it up now.”
“What do you know about Bridges? Troy Bridges?”
“Bridges? Why do you ask?”
“I told you I ran across some information of my dad's.” Savannah became fidgety in her seat. She hated when she wasn't able to get a direct answer.
“He's no longer with The Agency, and that's all I can say.”
“Thanks, Uncle.”
“Savannah?”
“Yes.”
“Stay clear of Troy. He's trouble with a capital
T.
I could never keep a rein on him when he was with us. Your dad was the only one who could tame him.”
“Don't worry. I don't plan on having anything to do with him.”
“That's a relief.”
Savannah didn't know how to respond to that statement. She felt embarrassed because Troy Bridges, or whatever name he went by now, was sitting there listening to the entire conversation.
“I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”
“Before you go, answer this. Did you find any other papers of your dad's?”
Savannah was about to answer when Troy shook his head back and forth. Savannah didn't know why she trusted the guy, but instead of telling Uncle Raymond the truth, she responded, “No. It was just a card with this Bridges guy's name on it, and I don't recall meeting him at the funeral. That's all. No big deal.”
“Well, if you or your sisters need anything, and I do mean
anything,
don't hesitate to give your old uncle Raymond a call now.”
“I won't,” Savannah said before discontinuing the call.
Savannah turned and looked at Troy. “I don't know why I lied to him, but you better hope I don't live to regret it.”
“You lying to him had nothing to do with me. Apparently, he doesn't know your plans.”
“What plans?” Savannah asked innocently.
“What I'm about to say will either make you shoot me or hit me, but I'm prepared for both.”
Savannah's eyes darkened. “Spill it.”
“I know you're looking for your dad's killer. The Agency has had you under surveillance since your dad died. I'm not sure of what your dad told you, but the Securities National Agency is an organization that only a few select people in the government know exist. The main purpose of the organization is to eliminate any threats to our national security on our own soil and abroad.”
Savannah placed her hand on her weapon. “I hope there's more to why you're here.”
Troy never took his eyes off Savannah's hands. “I know you're eager to aim that at me.”
“You're right.” Savannah held up the gun. “I should shoot you right now, but I don't know how I would justify killing you.”
“You could always say you killed an assailant.” Troy was toying with her.
She held the gun down and placed it on her thigh, without removing her hand. “So you knew my dad. So you worked for The Agency. It still doesn't explain why you're here.” And under her breath she said, “And why you left me ten years ago.”
“Major suspected that some of the agents we worked with were shady. Since I now work independently, he felt he could trust me to get to the bottom of it. The only thing is, someone else must have known your dad was onto something and had him killed.”
“Dad was retired. How and why did this happen now?” The tears formed before Savannah could control it.
Troy forgot all about the gun Savannah had on her thigh. If she shot him, so be it. He didn't hesitate to get up out of his seat and rush over to comfort her. He placed his arms around her. Reluctantly, she leaned on his shoulder and cried until she couldn't cry anymore.
“Let it all out. I cared about your dad too,” Troy said. “That's why I've made it my duty to find out who did it . . . even if it's the last case I handle.”
Savannah felt strength in his words. She removed herself from his embrace. He handed her a tissue off the table. She blew her nose. She felt embarrassed for her show of emotions but didn't know how to express herself. Memories of her father and seeing Troy after all these years overwhelmed her. She stood up and walked over to the mantel. She picked up picture after picture, pictures of her dad with her mom, pictures of her dad with her and each one of her sisters.
“This has been an emotional day: my birthday, my dad not being here, seeing you again. And now you're saying someone at The Agency, where my dad committed the majority of his life, might be responsible for his death. It's just surreal.”
Troy knew his time for comforting Savannah had passed. He allowed her the space she needed to gain her composure.
Savannah pushed her pride aside and turned around and looked Troy straight in the eyes. “I'm prepared to pay you whatever amount you want. But I need your help to find my daddy's killer.”
Troy didn't blink. “This one is on the house.”

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