Page 9 of Going, Going, Gone
Chapter Six
Dylan let the silence drag on while he thought about what Nessa had said. How the hell had he gotten caught up in this mess? It was supposed to have been a simple sale that would net him a tidy commission. He honestly didn’t think she would be able to prove her claims, but looking at her pleading, hazel eyes, he suddenly found himself wanting to be her champion. Was it because of the attraction he felt toward her? Was it because he wanted her in his bed? No. Dylan might have gone through more than his fair share of women over the years, but he never had or ever would lead a woman on just to sleep with her. Something about Nessa called to him. Despite the reason she’d bid on his date, for the first time in a very long time, he was interested in learning more about a woman, beyond how she responded to him on a sexual level. She intrigued him. He couldn’t remember dating anyone with as much passion and tenacity to do what she thought was right, instead of what she could gain from it, than this woman standing in front of him. Not that they were dating in the traditional sense. After she got what she wanted, she’d probably never want to see him again. And that made him all the more determined to make sure she did.
A large bird, flying by the basket a little too closely, startled Nessa, and she practically lunged at Dylan. Surprised, he reacted spontaneously, catching her in his arms and holding her trembling body closely. “It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “Just a bird. There’s lots of them up here. We’re kind of invading their territory for a change.”
She let out a nervous giggle, that made him want to hold her even tighter, but she put her hands on his chest and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” he repeated, missing her in his arms the moment she moved away. In that instant, he made up his mind. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. “Look, I honestly don’t think the farm was part of the Underground Railroad—”
Her eyes widened. “But—”
Dylan held up his hand. “You didn’t let me finish. I don’t think you’ll find the proof you need, but ...” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’ll see if I can push the sale date back a week. I’m sorry it can’t be more, but it’ll be hard enough to do that much. The buyers are very anxious to close, but I’ll think of something.”
This time when she lunged at him, it was to throw her arms around his neck and hug the hell out of him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll call the organizations I’m waiting on again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, until they get so tired of hearing from me, they’ll check their records just to be rid of me! Thank you!”
He smiled and chuckled at her exuberance. His hands slipped around her waist, coming together at the small of her back. His cock twitched in his pants, and he willed the bastard to stay down. He didn’t want Nessa to think he was doing this to get into her pants. Well, maybe a part of him was, but the real reason was he wanted to give her the chance to prove she was right, even if he didn’t think she was. This meant a great deal to her—enough that she blew $1800 to meet with him and pitch her request. No matter what the results of her search were, he was going to write her a check for that money. He’d been so busy with work lately and had cancelled Nessa’s appointments after finding out why she’d wanted to talk to him, just because there were enough problems he was dealing with on two other properties. If he’d just met with her, she wouldn’t have had to resort to such a drastic measure. But, then again, if he’d done that, he may not have agreed to help her. “You’re welcome.”
Another idea occurred to him. “Can you get access to a metal detector?”
Nessa lifted her head, her eyebrows almost to her hairline. “Um ... yeah. Why?”
“Since I’ve agreed to try to help and Ihavethe keys to the house, I might as well let you check that hidden room for any signs of the shackles.”
“Really? I—I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
One corner of his mouth ticked upwards in a lopsided grin. He thought it was cute she wanted to protect him. “Well, the property is still owned by the library, and my mother happens to be on the board of said library. You remember my mother, right? The history buff who passed her love of the past onto her sons. I’m sure if I explain what’s going on, she would love to help in any way she could.” Hell, his mother would probably lead the brigade to make sure no stone was left unturned. But the other board members would probably put up a stink over any delay in the sale—especially the chairman, who could be quite the bigot. He was never vocal in public, outside of his church, about his righteousness against people of color, the LGBT community, and non-Christians, but his sermons and closed-door conversations were filled with what would happen to those people on Judgement Day. Dylan had never met a true bible-thumper before he’d been introduced to Reverend Josiah Price of the local Mount Zion Tabernacle Church, and he hoped he never did again. Bigotry was high on Dylan’s list of repulsive attributes a person could have.
“You’d do that for me?”
Had he really been that much of an ass? Yeah, he had. His gaze softened. “I’m not an evil monster who just wants to make an easy buck, Nessa. I’ll do what I can—within reason—to help. But if we don’t find anything and you don’t locate the diary, in three weeks, I’ll have to put the sale through. Understood?”
She nodded. “Understood. Thank you, Dylan.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting kind of hungry.”
A smile spread across her face. “Me too. I’m just glad the picnic is on the ground.”
* * *
The picnic turnedout to be a catered lunch in a gazebo overlooking a lake on the property of a local event venue. The popular spot they were eating in was often used as a backdrop for wedding and other formal photos. A walking bridge crossed over the lake, with flowering plants hanging from poles on either side. The colorful foliage continued in beautifully landscaped areas along a path that circled the water’s edge. Birds and butterflies flitted by. As if they’d been cued, a mother deer and her weeks-old fawn had made an appearance from a wooded area on the far side of the lake and were cautiously enjoying their own lunch out of the healthy and vibrant green grass. A cozy table for two, topped with fine china, crystal wine glasses, and crisp, white linens, had been placed in the shaded center of the gazebo. So far, Vanessa and Dylan had enjoyed three of the four courses, consisting of lobster bisque, sautéed asparagus with melted provolone cheese, and Chateaubriand with roasted red potatoes and steamed broccoli.
After the tuxedoed and white-gloved waiter removed her dinner plate, Vanessa picked up her glass of pinot noir and took a sip. It was exquisite as everything else had been. “I know I keep saying it, but everything has been absolutely delicious. I can’t wait to see what’s for dessert. I don’t think I’ll be hungry for days after this.” She patted her full and happy stomach. Usually after a meal consisting of more than one course, she’d skip the dessert, but it wasn’t often she dined on such gourmet food, so she was going to make an exception today. Tomorrow, she’d add an extra thousand steps to her daily walking average, which was monitored by the unobtrusive Fitbit bracelet she wore on her wrist.
Dylan smiled at her after wiping the corners of his mouth with his cloth napkin. “I agree. Everything was cooked to perfection. I’ll have to send my compliments to the chef before we leave.”
Once they’d landed in a nearby field, they’d climbed out of the gondola and into a limousine where a bottle of chilled champagne had been waiting for them. If Vanessa hadn’t overheard Dylan’s secretary say she’d arranged everything for the date, she might’ve been impressed. Well, she was, but not because of the bubbly and limo. No, she was impressed Dylan had not only agreed to give her a little more time to prove her case, but also offered to help her. And after his initial blast of anger at her devious tactic to corner him for a meeting, he’d calmed down and, much to her surprise, returned to being the flirtatious and inquisitive date he’d been earlier.
“So, back to the question you asked me in the balloon,” Vanessa said. “What are your hobbies?”
He shrugged. “Golf and fishing, when I have time, but my favorite thing to do, whenever I get the chance, is spelunking.”
“Seriously? You’re a cave explorer?” That was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
“Yup. I took an elective class in college and fell in love. A few years earlier, my instructor and two of his friends had discovered a previously undocumented cave in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Turned out to be an American Indian burial site. Once I’d heard that, my interest was piqued. After my first cave—even though we didn’t find anything significant—I was hooked.”
“Wow, I can see how you would be. I’ve only done a few guided tours of caves before.”
Dylan nodded as he leaned back as the waiter placed a cup of cappuccino in front of both of them. “Yeah, there’s a big difference between those and caves only a few people have ever been in—especially the ones you need ropes and climbing equipment to get to where the good stuff is.”
