Blood Orchid (Holly Barker 3)

When she caught sight of the golf course through the trees, she stopped and looked around. She didn’t want all that money in the house with her; she needed to hide it. She was standing in a grove of live oaks, dripping Spanish moss, none of them more than about twenty-five feet high.

She looked closely at a number of them, then chose one, hoisting the case onto a low limb and climbing up to it. She repeated the process until she was a good fifteen feet off the ground, where she found an ideal cradle for the case—two stout limbs, one growing out of the other, making a fork—at just the righ

t angle from the trunk. She hoisted the case up and wedged it tightly between the two limbs. A hurricane wouldn’t move it, she reckoned. And nobody ever looked up.

She climbed back down the tree, brushed the woods off her clothes, collected Daisy, and started toward the guest house. She waited before crossing the road to be sure no one could see her leaving the woods, then she and Daisy ran onto the golf course again. The man mowing the green was gone; they had the expanse of green grass to themselves. Holly found a stick and spent a few minutes tossing it for Daisy, who loved to retrieve, then she started back toward the house, thinking about what to do next.

When she arrived at the house there was a car parked out front. She walked into the living room to find Ed Shine and Willard Smith waiting for her. Daisy ran over to Ed and greeted him with a nuzzle.

“Hi,” Ed said. “We just dropped by to see if you’d have dinner at the club with a bunch of us tonight.”

“Sure,” Holly said, thinking fast. “Do you mind if I invite my friend Grant to join us? I sort of had a date with him tonight.”

Ed hesitated for only a moment. “We’d be delighted to have him. Shall I pick you up at eight?”

“I’ll call Grant and get him to pick me up.”

“Go ahead,” Ed said. He didn’t move from his seat.

Holly picked up the phone, dialed nine for an outside line, then Grant’s number.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi, it’s Holly,” she said brightly. “Listen, instead of our going out tonight, how about we have dinner at Blood Orchid? Ed Shine has invited us to join him and a friend, Willard Smith.” She hoped he’d pick up on the name.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Good. Pick me up at the guest cottage at seven-thirty?”

“Okay, see you then.”

Holly hung up. “All set,” she said to Ed. “Can I get you guys a drink?”

Ed stood up. “No, thanks. We’ll see you at eight, then?”

“You bet.”

“I’ll let the gate know Grant is coming.” The two men left. Holly went out to the back patio and called Grant on her cellphone, which was still chiming its low-battery news.

“Hi, it’s Grant,” the recording said. “Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.”

“It’s Holly. Will you bring the battery charger for my cellphone with you tonight? It’s on the bedside table. I have a lot to tell you; I couldn’t talk freely before.” She punched off and went back inside, suddenly tired. She fed Daisy and stretched out on the sofa for a nap.

Holly was awakened by a knock on the door, then Grant’s voice: “Hello? Anybody home?”

“Grant?” she said, sitting up. “Come in. My God, I’ve been asleep all this time. I’ve got to get dressed. Fix yourself a drink.” She went into the bedroom and quickly changed her clothes and freshened up, then returned to the living room.

Grant handed her a drink, but she refused it. “I don’t think we have time,” she said. “Let’s get going.”

As soon as they were in the car, Holly began talking, rapid-fire. “It’s money,” she said. “They’re bringing in money, just like I thought. I even stole some of it.”

“Holly . . .”

“Don’t talk, listen,” she said.

“Holly . . .”

“Grant, will you shut up? I have things to tell you.”