The Maestro (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 3) (12 page)

CHAPTER 13

The moment Maurice saw Delilah and Reginald get into the car and leave the front of the Bed and Breakfast, he put his overcoat on and addressed Adam, who had his eyes glued to the television. “Adam, I am going to go and get some fresh air. I’ll only be a few moments.”

Adam glanced up. “You don’t want me to go?”

Maurice shook his head, “I’ll be fine.”

He watched Adam sit back in his chair and left the facility. He knew Reginald’s address and headed in that direction. It was a delightful fall evening, and he breathed the fresh air deep into his lungs as he strode the sidewalks. When he arrived at the small home, he noticed Reginald’s car was not in the driveway—obviously because he was out with Delilah. But what struck him as odd was that even though the curtains were drawn in the front room of the home, a light was on, and he noticed a shadow walking to and fro in the room. He stood for a few moments watching it. He grinned, did an about face, and headed back to the Bed and Breakfast.

***

The interior of the tavern was just what Delilah had expected. Dimly lit, it smelled of old tobacco smoke, and there were men at the bar reeking of stale beer and whiskey. There were a few booths, so they slid into an empty one and were handed two menus by a woman who looked as though she would collapse at any given moment. Her brown hair was in a loose bun, she had pasty skin, her eyes had dark circles under them, and beads of sweat were forming on her brow. She gave them all of two minutes to pick out what they wanted, and Delilah chose a hamburger, medium rare, with a side of fries. Reginald chose the same, and the woman left without a word.

Reginald went to the bar and ordered them each a drink as they waited for their meal. Delilah craned her neck and noticed another area with tables and chairs and a dance floor with an old jukebox that looked like it had seen better days. There were a few people feeding the machine quarters to keep the music going. They were sitting at the tables, talking, but no one was dancing. The place was depressing, and she frowned. She began redecorating it in her mind while she waited for Reginald. She glanced at the bar and noticed they didn’t serve any high-end alcohol; her eyebrows rose. She then displayed a sly grin and nodded to herself.

Reginald delivered their drinks and sat opposite her. He asked, “What were you thinking about? I can almost see ideas swirling about your head.”

She extended her arm out and twirled it around. “I was thinking about this place and what I would do to it if I owned it.”

“You don’t like it the way it is?”

She shook her head. “It’s a little depressing, don’t you think?” The waitress delivered their plates, slapped their bill on the table, and turned on her heel. She didn’t even ask them if they wanted condiments for their burgers. Delilah shrugged. “See what I mean?”

Reginald laughed and agreed. “The food is all right, but it could be better. A lot better.”

They ate their meal in silence and listened to the music playing. Delilah noticed her burger was not medium rare, but rare to the point it was still bleeding. She licked her lips and dug in. Fortunately, the fries were freshly cut potatoes that had been deep-fried, so they were surprisingly good. The burger was by no means close to what her chef at home made, because he was used to gourmet cuisine, but it was tolerable. Delilah imagined that most of the patrons were half-drunk by the time they ate, so no one ever complained.

She sat back in the booth when she was full and continued watching the people shuffling about. Reginald broke the comfortable silence between them and asked, “Do you have enough money to buy this place?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s a little bit personal, don’t you think?”

He raised his hands in the air. “Hey, I’m just curious. I mean, I couldn’t help but notice the vehicle you guys pulled up in at the farm the other day and your father’s demeanor. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t think he came from money.”

Delilah gave him a tight smile and replied, “My father didn’t
come
from money. He worked his way up the ladder and established himself as a highly regarded businessman. He’s extremely clever.”

Reginald shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. So, let’s change the subject. Are you excited about the wedding tomorrow?”

Her eyes brightened, and she exclaimed, “Of course I am. It’s going to be a glorious event for our family. It’s going to be at four in the afternoon at Robert’s, and the banquet hall has been decorated with fine décor to the hilt. Myrna is going to be so pleased.” She glanced out the window of the tavern and saw the sun setting. “If we’re going hiking on the new trail, I hope you have a flashlight because the sun is setting.”

Reginald smiled. “Good, let’s get going. It will be the perfect end to the perfect evening.”

Delilah didn’t respond. The evening hadn’t been perfect, but it also hadn’t been a waste of her time. She stood, and he watched as she began walking to the door. He scrambled for his wallet, left the payment on the table beside their bill, and rushed from the booth to catch up with her.

She stood at his car, waiting for him to open her door. He sighed as he opened it, and after she climbed in, he thrust it shut. She sat facing forward, grinning, when he slid in behind the wheel. When they arrived at the trails, he handed her the flashlight so she could guide him to the new trail. When they were halfway up the side of the hiking path, he stopped her and turned her to him. He was grinning, and his tone of voice changed; it was much deeper. “Have you ever done it in the woods?”

She asked, “Done what?” Her chin was pressed against her right shoulder in an adorable, innocent way when she asked him. She knew the answer. She just wanted to hear him ask her to breed with him. Just the idea of it disgusted her. She knew her father would never approve of Reginald’s courting habits.

He chuckled. “I’m not talking about picking berries, for God’s sake. I’m talking about having sex. Have you ever had sex in the woods?”

She batted her eyelashes at him and smiled coquettishly. “Father would never approve. He believes a couple should date for at least a year and make love after the nuptials.”

He laughed to the sky of the darkening forest, and she could see his gleaming white teeth again. “Court? My God, what era does he think he’s living in?”

She stared at those teeth, and the dark urges rose. She swallowed and said, “He’s old fashioned and holds the entire family to his courting rules. I happen to agree with him.” She turned and continued up the path. A few deer ran before her, and she allowed them to pass.

That was when Reginald grabbed her arm and turned her to him again. He leaned in and kissed her cheek as he whispered, “I don’t believe in his foolish ways, but I’ll be patient. In the meantime, what are his rules about kissing?”

She stared at his mouth and smirked. “Kisses can be a sweet delight.”

He leaned in, placed his right hand on the back of her head, and kissed her on the lips. When he began pushing her head closer to his and forcibly kissing her, it was no longer enjoyable, and she winced as he tried to force his tongue inside her mouth. She had difficulty breathing. She did what she thought any woman would do in this circumstance: Delilah bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

Reginald shoved her from him, raised his hand to his lower lip, and noticed the blood. He spat it out and growled, “You rich little bitch!”

She giggled at him and took a step back. The flashlight was securely in her left hand, and she reached behind her with ther right hand. She retrieved her metal nail file and held it in her palm. He couldn’t see it because she had the flashlight beaming in his eyes.

He staggered forward and growled again. “You don’t consent to sex. You believe in courting. You’re nothing but a spoiled little snot who needs to be taught a fucking lesson!”

He reached out and grasped the front of her blouse. Pulling downward, he forced the buttons to pop off, leaving her bra and chest exposed. He licked at his lip and sneered, “You better prepare yourself, Delilah.”

Her eyes widened, and she had a crazed look about her as she said in a sly voice, “I do believe it’s you who should prepare for what’s about to happen.” She followed this up with a maniacal laugh.

He grasped her arms, avoiding the glare of the flashlight she beamed into his eyes. He tilted his head to the right as he tried to push her to the ground. That was when he felt a searing pain scream through his left eardrum. He staggered back and felt his ear to see blood on his fingertips again. The bitch had punctured his eardrum! He glanced up at her to see she was holding a stupid nail file. When he spoke next, it sounded to him as though he was talking under water, but he made it clear he wasn’t fooling around. He stomped forward, shaking his head. “This game is officially over, Delilah.”

She curled her lower lip and replied, “Aw, that’s a pity. I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

He shook a finger at her. “You’re certifiably batshit crazy.”

Delilah cringed. She didn’t like what he’d called her at all, but she did like the way the blood oozed from his left ear and how it trickled down from his lower lip. She’d like to see more of that. Her eyes went wild as he grabbed her and she struggled. He became amazed at her strength; he was going to have to put more effort into this kill than he had planned.

He didn’t know how she did it, but when he tossed her to the ground and tried to get on top of her, she managed to roll him over so she had the advantage. He realized at that moment that the crazy bitch had the arm and thigh strength of Schwarzenegger. It didn’t take long before he could no longer see out of his left eye; she had stabbed him again with her nail file and tried to pop his eyeball out of its socket. She had missed, but it still hurt like hell, and he screamed to the darkening sky.

As she held him pinned to the ground, she began mimicking his scream of pain and watched as his arms flailed and tried to grab her. She dropped the flashlight when she spotted a good-sized rock beside her right thigh. She raised it and watched as it collided with his head. She watched his good eye roll in its socket, and then it closed. Checking for a pulse, she found a faint one, so she finished the job by plunging the nail file into what she thought was his jugular. She grasped the flashlight again and to make sure she hadn’t missed and found she had, by a centimeter. There was a small steady stream of blood seeping out of the wound, and she cocked her head to the side as she gazed at it.

She murmured to no one, “It was supposed to spurt out like a water fountain if I had done it right. What a disappointment.” She shrugged, took the heavy rock, and thrust it down onto his head again, just for enjoyment’s sake.

She gathered up the flashlight and searched his pockets for the car keys. While she was down on her knees, she leaned in and licked some of the blood from his neck wound. She let it roll around her mouth for a moment, stood, and returned her nail file to her back pocket. As she stood with flashlight and keys in hand, she pulled her right foot back and thrust it forward into Reginald’s ribcage. “Now
that
was the perfect end to the perfect evening!”

She walked back down the path, whistling a happy tune and tucking her torn blouse into her pants. When she unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel, she tossed the flashlight on the passenger’s seat, checked the rearview mirror, fussed with her hair, checked her mouth for any blood, and started the engine.

She headed straight for the Bed and Breakfast, where her father and Adam were waiting for her return.

She parked the car in front of the building, cut the engine, grabbed the keys and went to the front door, opened it, and scooted up the stairs to their floor. Upon arriving inside, she rushed to her room, grabbed a clean blouse, slipped it on, and shouted, “Chop-chop, boys. We’ve got work to do.”

Adam and Maurice had been in the common room and leapt from their seats. Maurice stood at the bedroom door and watched Delilah fuss with her blouse and fluff her hair. His head turned from side to side as he gazed upon her flushed cheeks and her smile. When she was done at the mirror, she glanced at her watch, tapped it and said, “Come on, we’re on the clock.”

Adam chuckled. “Like father, like daughter.” Maurice grinned and turned as the three of them left their floor and proceeded down the stairs. Delilah handed Adam the keys to Reginald’s car and took the ones for the family car.

Once outside, Adam drove Reginald’s car and followed Delilah to Fran’s farm. As Delilah paid attention to the road, Maurice asked, “So, I assume poor Reginald is dead?”

She hunched her shoulders. “Halfway.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Do you care to elaborate?”

She smiled. “He’s only halfway dead because I could not and would not deny Ms. Frances O’Connor the joy of saying her last words to him. He’ll wake up tonight in a world of pain.”

Maurice snickered. “I love these games you play, Delilah. I truly do. By the by, why didn’t you require your special drink tonight?”

She shook her head. “I already had a little one.”

His eyes went wide, and he exclaimed, “You were able to control yourself and stop?” When he saw her smile and nod, he reached out, placed his hand over hers on the steering wheel, and squeezed it. “I’m so proud of you, darling. You have made my day. Now, answer me this: Does our dear Reginald know the time and location of the wedding tomorrow?”