Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
She nodded. “My father and Charles were best friends for as long as I can remember, but over the last few months, they argued quite a lot. Charles had no idea of their financial situation. He used to handle all of that for my parents and wanted to again, but my father refused to turn over the estate planning to him. Dad said he was family, and that wasn’t a good mix. Charles exploded over that because I help with my parents’ finances. I’m a planner and I do investment counseling.”
At the last moment she realized she had switched to speaking as though her parents were still alive. She twisted her fingers into Master’s vest and held on as if he were her life jacket.
“That’s something Master and Ambrielle have in common,” Czar said. “Master handles the club’s money and decides the best way to invest for us. He’s made us fortunes.”
“Charles gambles,” Ambrielle added. “Dad didn’t like it and didn’t want to tempt him by giving him access to a lot of money. We talked about that, not with Charles, of course, just Dad, Mom and me.”
“Were you aware Charles had accrued a tremendous amount of debt at some of the casinos? Did he talk about that to your parents?”
Ambrie shook her head. “If he talked about that to my parents, they never spoke of it to me.”
“Do you have any idea where Charles would go?”
She frowned, trying to really think what he would do if he were still alive. In the end she shook her head.
“Has he contacted you since your parents’ deaths? Left messages for you?”
She shook her head. “Charles hasn’t left any messages for me.” She pressed three fingers to her lips to stop any weeping from escaping. It was so difficult to even talk anymore. No matter how hard she tried to distance herself from the images of her parents’ deaths, she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry I had to speak with you under such disturbing circumstances, Mrs. Vasiliev.” Jonas stood up. “I’m truly sorry for your loss. I can promise you, I’ll do everything I can to find whoever murdered your parents.” He nodded to the others at the table and left.
Jackson turned to follow him and then stopped to look back. “You know, Master, Jonas does his job. He’s damn good at it, and he’s thorough. He asks the hard questions because he’s going to find the son of a bitch that murdered your wife’s parents. In order to do that, he has to get every suspect out of the way. That’s her, and you and anyone else that should be looked at. He might not like the job, but he does it in order to catch the criminal. It isn’t personal. It was never personal. You should know that.”
Without waiting for Master’s reply, the deputy turned and followed the sheriff out the door of the bar. There was a small silence. Czar broke it first. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ambrie. The loss of your parents is bad enough, but to lose them the way you did was terrible.”
“Yes, it was.” Ambrielle looked around the bar. “Master tells me there is someone trying to kill your wife and children. That must be a nightmare for you.”
Czar rubbed his temples. “It is. I’ve always managed to stay calm and think through any crisis, but knowing there’s a threat hanging over their heads has thrown me a bit. These aren’t just some idiot thugs from another club; these are trained assassins coming after my family.” His piercing gaze switched to Master.
“Blythe got a call this afternoon from Violet, one of her friends who teaches yarn-spinning classes with her. Spinning yarn isn’t something most people know just walking in off the street. Blythe’s been doing it for years. She started teaching a class locally a few years back and has a loyal following. I had her call in sick and get a substitute the last couple of weeks. It seems the class had a visit from a ‘good friend’ of Blythe’s, a woman who used to spin yarn with her years ago and wanted to reconnect with her.”
The tension in the bar suddenly seemed to stretch unbelievably thin. No one moved or spoke. Ambrie found herself more anxious than ever, and she wasn’t certain why.
“When Blythe didn’t show to teach and the substitute came, her so-called old friend was quite upset, according to Violet. It was clear this woman didn’t know a thing about spinning yarn and had never seen it done, let alone tried doing it. She had no interest in learning to spin and had come to the class with the sole purpose of seeing Blythe.”
“What did she look like?” Absinthe asked.
“She matched the description of the Russian woman in the De Sade club in San Francisco. A little taller than Lana, so around five eight. Thin, but nice figure, looks like a model. Dark hair and eyes. No lines in her face. Very pretty, Violet said. Said it twice. In fact, Violet mentioned she worried the woman would get her clothes dirty just walking to the parking lot, she was so pristine,” Czar continued. “She also called me Viktor when she referred to me as Blythe’s husband. No one calls me that who is a friend of the family. Violet didn’t correct her, but it was a red flag.”