Page 61 of A Master's Destiny
“About what?” Anderson asks, slurping a spoonful of soup.
“He claimed his father died today and he seemed really broken up about it.”
“What’s the dad’s name?”
I shrug. “No idea, but I assume his last name would be Slater.”
Anderson looks shocked when he hears the name. “You don’t mean Senator Dick Slater?”
He grabs this morning’s newspaper off the counter and shows me the front page. “It’s all over the news, buddy. He’s a bigwig in Washington—I mean, hewas.”
I look at the photo of a middle-aged man with facial features similar to Slater’s. The man is standing beside an attractive, much younger woman who’s holding a Bible while the Vice President swears him in. The article identifies the woman beside him as Dick Slater’s second wife.
Anderson nods at my bowl. “Eat your soup before it gets cold.”
I continue to enjoy the soup while I consider the article. I feel conflicted. I understand that Slater must be reeling after his father’s unexpected death, but he’s still a danger to others.
I can’t stand by and let another incident like what honey went through happen again.
I have to act before someone else gets hurt.
Treachery
With no snakes haunting my dreams, I’m able to get three hours of restful sleep before my alarm rings at five. I’m grateful for them. Although three hours is far from ideal, it’s enough rest to get the wheels turning in my head.
As the day progresses, the pieces start to fall together. I think I have a good idea of how Slater did it and how I can prove it.
After work, I drive straight to the candle shop. The shopkeeper smiles when she sees me. “Are you here to buy candles this time?”
I chuckle. “I am.”
“Which kind would you like?”
“I’m going to buy both this time—soyandbeeswax.”
“That’s an excellent idea. But I bet as soon as you use the beeswax candles, you’ll never go back to soy.”
I smirk, knowing she wouldn’t be saying that if she had any idea how I was using the candles.
I walk to the soy candle display and pick up the same set of colors I had originally purchased. I then go to the beeswax display and do the same.
Walking up to her counter, I set all eight down.
“Those colors sure are popular,” she comments, smiling as she rings up each one before packing them carefully with tissue paper in the white paper bag.
Experiencing sticker shock, I raise an eyebrow when she tells me the total.
Giggling, she reminds me, “I told you they were expensive, but I promise you won’t regret it. Don’t forget that they are good for the environment.”
I’m casual as I segue into the main reason I’m here. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course!” she answers, grinning as she continues to pack the candles up.
“Did a guy with a dark tan and long blond hair happen to come in here to buy candles recently?”
She shakes her head. “No, but he sure sounds dreamy.”
I’m disappointed by her answer, feeling certain I’d figured it out.
