Page 38 of Sly Like a Fox
My hands shake as I pretend to study the marble sculpture, processing what I’ve just heard.They’re discussing some associate’s potential murder with the same casualness most people use to plan weekend activities.Anklor isn’t just corrupt.He’s genuinely dangerous in ways that could get us both killed.
I need to warn Fenton immediately, but doing so without blowing our cover requires creativity.Looking around the room, I spot him near the bar, engaged in what appears to be casual conversation with Judge Vance about municipal development projects.
An idea forms in my mind.I move toward Fenton’s position, deliberately stepping on the train of my own gown as I navigate around the sculpture I was just examining.
The expensive fabric catches under my heel with a sharp tearing sound, sending me stumbling forward with a startled yelp that draws amused chuckles from nearby guests.Fenton immediately moves to catch me, his arms wrapping around my waist to steady me against his chest.
His voice carries the perfect mix of concern and affection expected from an attentive partner.“Careful there.”
I speak loudly enough for nearby guests to hear.“These impossible heels.”I drop my voice while whispering the crucial information against his ear.“Anklor and his lawyer just discussed having someone named Thorpe killed if he becomes a problem.They’re ruthless.I wanted to warn you.”
His body tenses almost imperceptibly, but his expression remains unchanged as he helps me regain my balance.At normal volume, he asks, “Are you hurt?”then whispers back, “I know.I expected as much, which is why we have to handle this with caution, or we’ll be the next Thorpe.”
The casual way he accepts the threat of death should probably alarm me, but instead, it reminds me of how dangerous this operation is.Fenton has been planning for this possibility from the beginning while I’m still adjusting to the reality that people we’re charming at cocktail parties might order our executions before dessert.
I laugh self-deprecatingly while examining the torn hem of my gown.“Just wounded pride.I suppose that’s what I get for trying to look elegant.”
Fenton responds with exactly the right note of devoted affection.“You always look elegant.”He quietly adds, “Stay close to Caroline.She’s our safest contact here.”
Judge Vance approaches with motherly concern.“My dear, are you quite all right?Those marble floors can be treacherous.”
I smile ruefully while internally grateful for the judge’s interruption, which provides natural cover for our whispered conversation.“I’m fine, thank you.Just a reminder that grace and champagne don’t always mix well.”
Fenton guides me toward a seating area where Caroline Anklor is chatting with two other women about upcoming social events.“Perhaps you should sit down for a moment.”
Caroline immediately makes room beside her on the velvet sofa, her concern appearing genuine rather than polite.“Jenna, what happened?”
I settle beside her while Fenton hovers with appropriate masculine helplessness in the face of a female fashion crisis.“I had an unfortunate encounter with my own dress.Nothing that can’t be fixed with some strategic safety pins.”
One of the other women nods sympathetically.“These formal gowns are beautiful but completely impractical.I once caught my train in a revolving door at the opera house.I nearly took down three other people.”
The conversation shifts to shared experiences with formal wear mishaps, providing the perfect cover for me to study the room’s dynamics while appearing to be engaged in typical female bonding.I notice how the men cluster around Anklor, seeking his attention and approval, while the women seem to exist in a separate social orbit centered around charitable activities and cultural events.
Caroline, despite being the hostess, seems oddly peripheral to both groups.The other women include her in conversation but maintain polite distance that suggests social hierarchy rather than genuine friendship.She laughs at appropriate moments and contributes to discussions about upcoming charity galas, but something seems performative about her participation.
“Caroline, I’m curious about your involvement with the literacy foundation,” I ask, genuinely interested in understanding her role beyond ornamental wife.“Do you handle the fundraising coordination personally?”
Her expression grows more animated than it has all evening.“I do.Most people assume Garret manages everything, but I design the programs and coordinate with the schools directly.It’s one of the few areas where I have complete autonomy.”
The pride in her voice is unmistakable, and I realize this charitable work represents more than social obligation for her.It’s probably the only meaningful work she’s allowed to pursue in her regulated environment.“It must be incredibly rewarding to work directly with children and see the impact of your efforts.”
She nods enthusiastically.“It really is.Last year, we were able to expand the reading programs to twelve additional schools in underserved areas.The improvement in test scores has been remarkable.”
As Caroline talks about her charity work, I admire how committed she is.She’s not just someone who shows up at events for appearance’s sake.She’s actually making a real difference in kids’ lives with the programs she’s created.It’s hard to ignore the contrast between her husband’s shady behavior and the good work she’s doing.It makes things more complicated, morally speaking.
Still, I can’t deny her genuine enthusiasm for her work presents an opportunity.Someone like Caroline, who seems lonely and eager for meaningful connections, might be open to someone who shares her interests.It’s not a great feeling, knowing I might need to take advantage of that, but I shove aside the guilt.What matters most is keeping Fenton safe and making sure we complete the mission.
“Your programs sound amazing.I’d love to learn more about the implementation strategies sometime.”I lean forward with apparent enthusiasm.“I’ve been looking for meaningful volunteer opportunities, and education advocacy really speaks to me.”
Caroline’s face lights up with excitement that comes from finding someone who shares a genuine passion.“Really?Oh, that would be wonderful.We could use someone with your event planning background to help coordinate our school visits.”
Before I can respond, I notice Anklor approaching our seating area with that calculating smile that makes my skin crawl.Behind him, Fenton maintains casual conversation with another guest, but I see the subtle tension in his shoulders, revealing he’s aware of the approaching interaction.
Anklor settles into the armchair beside our group, his presence immediately shifting the dynamic.“Ladies, I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.Caroline has been telling you about her pet projects, I assume?”
The dismissive tone he uses to describe his wife’s charitable work makes my jaw clench involuntarily.Caroline’s expression doesn’t change, but her hands tighten slightly around her champagne flute.
“Caroline was sharing some fascinating details about the literacy programs,” I say with diplomatic neutrality.“The impact measurements are really impressive.”
