Page 43 of Live To Tell

“And there was no DUI!” He jabs a finger at me and the guys. “They did something.”

I tense. This is not the direction I’d like the conversation to take. Next they’ll mention the lodge.

“And Dad isn’t parading me around as his little heir,” Kai continues, then looks over his shoulder at his silent friends. “Come on. Let’s find a bar. The place has several.”

“Kai Sawyer,” says his mother in warning. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“What? You going to ask him to drag me to Dad?” Kai jerks his chin at a cautious looking Rick. “I bet that’d embarrass him more than me having a few too many drinks.”

“You do as your father tells you!” Mrs. Sawyer’s voice rises.

“I don’t believe that’s likely,” I interrupt. “From my observations, Kai rarely does.”

Her brown eyes flash in my direction. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Death threats against Kai by witches and attacks on—and by—shifters? I’m well and truly in the middle of all that,” I say.

“This is a family matter,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, fuck this,” says her son.

My inadvertently distracting his mother allows Kai to walk away. Some would pursue and accost their child to pull them into submission, but despite her flaring anger, Mrs. Sawyer watches them move along the hallway—away from the function room—through wider eyes.

“Rick. Follow them,” she says.

“In case he’s attacked?” I ask.

“No. In case Kai leaves.”

I straighten. “Oh. Then I agree. Rick should follow him. An attack is more likely to occur away from the hotel grounds.”

But the bodyguard’s already at Kai’s heels.

Muttering beneath her breath, Mrs. Sawyer turns back towards the door.

“Excuse me?” I call. “I have a question.”

Leif laughs quietly. “Of course, you do.”

The woman pivots, face harassed. “I’ve more important things to do than chat to you. Kai could ruin his father’s night!”

“Did you retrieve your stolen jewelry?” I ask.

She places a hand over the diamonds and emeralds strung across her chest. “Stolen?”

“The item that went missing from the safe at Kai’s illicit house party,” I say.

“I don’t know the specifics about that,” she says.

“Oh? I do, since your husband accused me and Grayson Petrescu of the theft.”

The hassled look grows as she darts a look between the doors to the function room and me. “I need to find my husband and solve our family matter.”

Without a goodbye, the woman stalks away in her impressively dangerous heels.

Hmm.

“Well, then,” I say and wander to the sofa Kai and his friends occupied earlier. “That was an enlightening meeting.”

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