Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies Page 102


“Okay.” I swung my attention between both Skeeter and Mason. “And now we have confirmation that the meeting truly is with J.R. Simmons.”

“You can’t do this,” Mason said, his voice softer.

But Skeeter had the opposite reaction. He was only getting more pissed. He pointed at me again. “I am in charge here, Lady! You’ve forgotten your place!”

“No, Skeeter Malcolm!” I shouted, letting my temper get the best of me. “Just a week ago you offered me a danged partnership, so that makes us equals! I set this up, so I have more say than you do!”

He got to his feet and advanced toward me. “You never accepted my partnership!”

“Well, in this situation, I accept it!”

“It’s too damned late for that!”

“He offered you a partnership in his crime business?” Mason asked, his voice sounding far away.

Oh crap. What had I done? Panic washed through me, but I’d promised him no more secrets from here on out. There was no other way I could hope for a future with him. “I didn’t have Skeeter’s authority to request a meeting with Mick Gentry. But when I explained it to him later—that I had suggested meeting with him as an emissary to negotiate behind the scenes—Skeeter saw the wisdom of it and offered me a partnership.”

Anger and pain washed across Jed’s face, and my heart skipped a beat. I could guess what was galling him. Why would Skeeter offer to make me a partner when he had never done the same with Jed, who had been with him since the beginning?

“But I turned down his offer. I’ve made no secret of the fact that my sole intention has been—and is—to find out who’s trying to kill you and stop them.”

No one said anything, so I took a breath and turned my attention to Skeeter. “We can make this work. Now let’s start with the location.” I described all the details of the room. “Where were we?”

“The Henryetta Days Inn,” Mason said, sounding distant. “It sounds a lot like the place I stayed when I first came to town. The color scheme and print on the carpet are a giveaway.”

“So do we change the place or try to make it work? I said I’d pick the location, so one of you must have suggested it since I have no clue where to go.”

“Me,” Skeeter said. “It’s the place I would have suggested.”

“So change locations or stay?”

Mason spoke first. “They attack you from the window, which means it isn’t a secure location. If I were sending a plant in to meet an informant, I’d have the windows covered.” He looked at Skeeter. “I presume you’d do the same?”

He nodded.

“So that means whoever was watching the outside was eliminated first.” Mason leaned forward. “The Days Inn is only one story. We need a higher building, or one with no windows. But the problem with no windows is that it’ll keep us from seeing what’s goin’ on. Obviously closets are out.”

“We’ll bug the room,” Skeeter said, his voice hard, refusing to look at me.

“So where do we meet?” I asked.

“A public location was a good idea,” Mason said. “It stands to reason that Simmons would want to keep a low profile here in town. A gunshot burst like that would draw unwanted attention.” He started pacing. “But it obviously didn’t work.”

“We need to figure out a place that has hiding places for my men so they can keep an eye on you,” Skeeter said. “A place where the quirks can be used to our advantage.”

I looked down at Jed, and then returned my attention to Skeeter. “The factory.”

“No,” Mason said, shaking his head and continuing to pace. “It’s far too remote. Anything and everything could go wrong out there. You and Jed know that firsthand.”

“It’s perfect, and you know it,” I said. “Lots of hiding places.”

“He’ll never go for it, Rose,” Skeeter said. “It’s not to his advantage, and he never does anything that doesn’t promise a favorable outcome.”

“So where do we meet?”

He gave me an exasperated look. “You don’t meet him at all.”

“And that is not an option.” I sat in Mason’s vacated chair and turned to look at Jed. “Where should we go, Jed?”

He cast Skeeter a glance, and then looked back at me. “You told Gentry that you refused to meet him in any more hellholes.”

“Obviously, I spoke rashly.”

“No.” His gaze held mine. “You have an image to maintain. So we put you in a nice place. Somewhere rich people would stay.”

“And where in Pete’s sake are we gonna find a place like that in Fenton County?” I asked.

“The golf course,” Skeeter said, getting angry again. “If you’re talking about that vacant house, you’re a damn fool.”

“What vacant house?” I asked.

Skeeter groaned and shook his head, but Jed ignored him, keeping his gaze pinned on me. “There’s a house that’s been vacant for a couple of months. Nice place with windows that overlook the golf course and Lake Fenton. Granite counters … the works. Fully furnished.”

“Why’s it vacant?”

A sly grin lit up Jed’s face. “It belongs to Mick Gentry.”

Anger flashed in Mason’s eyes. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

Prev Next