Kitabı oku: «The Last Time I Saw You», sayfa 5
7
Kate tapped on her husband’s office door, which was slightly ajar. “Simon, the detective needs to speak with us.”
Simon looked up from his computer and ran a hand through his hair as she walked in with the detective. “What is it? Have they arrested someone?”
“No, sir,” Anderson replied from behind Kate. “But a box has been delivered.”
“From where?” Simon’s tone was impatient. “What’s in it?”
Anderson entered the study as Kate eyed the package with dread. She put a hand on her belly, the all-too-familiar churning in her stomach making her dizzy. She wanted to run from the room before they even opened it.
“Please,” Simon said. “Sit down.”
Anderson set the box squarely on Simon’s desk, and Kate noticed that its packing tape had been sliced through. “I’ve already seen what’s inside. But I want you both to take a look.”
“Yes, of course,” Simon said, rising out of his seat.
“Just look, don’t touch it, please,” the detective instructed.
As he removed the top, Kate let out a gasp, stepping back in revulsion, her hand over her mouth. Three small black birds in a row—pierced by a metal skewer, all with their throats slit.
“What kind of sick bastard is doing this?” Simon roared, pushing the box toward Detective Anderson.
“These birds were most likely purchased from a pet store, just as the mice were,” Anderson said. “They’re parakeets, but they’ve been spray-painted black.”
Kate felt the blood pulsing in her neck and shrank back. Her whole body shook as terror turned to rage, exploding inside her. She looked at Anderson. “Why didn’t you warn us? To deliberately shock us? To see what our reactions would be?” Something else suddenly dawned on her. “Do you think we’re hiding something from you?”
There was no regret in Anderson’s eyes, only suspicion. “It’s procedure,” he said evenly. “Do you have any idea who might be doing this?”
“Of course not.”
He replaced the box lid, took a plastic sleeve from his folder, and handed it to Kate. “This was on top of the birds.” Inside the plastic was a sheet of plain white paper, with the same typeface as the other note.
Sing a song of sixpence
a pocket full of rye
3 little blackbirds
simply had to die
When the box is opened
The birds no longer sing
Wasn't that a pretty gift
For someone to bring?
“These morbid nursery rhymes,” Kate whispered. She handed it to Simon, the words reverberating in her mind in a singsong. She doubled over, a wave of dizziness making her lean on the desk in front of her.
Detective Anderson took the note back and put it in his bag. “The killer obviously wants to taunt you. Based on my experience, I would say this is most likely someone you know, though maybe not someone you know well. Someone on the periphery of your life.”
“Why do you think that?” Kate asked.
“We know it wasn’t a robbery. No valuables were taken. Your father verified that the only thing missing was the bracelet your mother always wore. If someone had broken in to rob the house, they would have taken much more.”
Kate considered this. “So you think someone deliberately targeted her to …”
Before he could answer, Simon interrupted. “Where are you with the investigation? Are you closing in on any suspects?”
“We’re looking at everyone right now.”
Simon sighed loudly. “I’d appreciate a little more detail. For instance, a short list of suspects. People’s alibis. That sort of thing.” He, Kate, and Harrison, as well as their household employees, had provided detailed alibis to the police in the days immediately following the murder.
“Mr. English. We’re not in the habit of sharing the details of our investigation, because it can compromise our work. I assure you, we’re being very thorough.”
A silence hung in the room until Detective Anderson finally broke it. “Again, if there’s anything else you can tell me, now’s the time.”
Kate turned to Simon for some kind of assurance, but his face, white and stricken, told her he was as filled with panic as she was.
“Were you able to trace the text my wife received?” he asked.
Anderson shook his head. “No, we need to do it in real time. But if they send another one, we’ll be able to. I’ve also contacted the FBI behavioral unit. I’m going to fill out the paperwork to see if they can take a look at some of this. It could be a long wait, but we’ll see.”
Together, they walked to the front door. Detective Anderson pursed his lips again, shaking his head. “I know you’re frightened. We’re doing everything possible to protect you and your family, but please, be on guard too. Are you sure you can’t think of anything out of the ordinary that’s happened recently? Any hang-up calls? Any strangers who’ve approached you for directions or asked you for something seemingly insignificant? Anything odd at the hospital, Dr. English, or your firm, Mr. English?”
Kate thought about it for a minute but came up blank. She shook her head.
“I can’t think of anything either,” Simon said.
“Well, please get in touch if you do. Anything. I’d rather have extraneous information than miss something crucial.”
“Of course,” Kate and Simon said in unison. Suddenly drained, she leaned against him.
Before Anderson left, Blaire walked into the hallway with a crying Annabelle. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Annabelle wants her mom.”
As Kate reached out to take her daughter, Anderson extended his hand to Blaire. “I’m Detective Anderson. And you are?”
“This is one of my oldest friends, Blaire Barrington,” Kate said. “She came in from New York for the funeral.”
“Would you mind answering a few questions for me?” Anderson asked Blaire.
“Certainly.”
Simon piped in. “You can use my office.”
Blaire followed Anderson back to Simon’s office.
Kate looked at Simon. “I’m really scared,” she whispered. “Who could be doing this?”
Before he could answer, his phone rang. He held up a finger and looked at the screen. “Sorry, gotta take this.”
Kate felt her back go up at his offhanded dismissal. She watched angrily as he walked back down the hall. Taking a deep breath, she took Annabelle back to the kitchen, where Hilda was putting together a snack for her.
“Would you mind taking Annabelle into the playroom?”
“I want you, Mommy.”
“I’ll come in soon, sweetie. I just need to talk to Aunt Blaire for a minute. How about a chocolate bar? Special treat for being a good girl.” Kate winced as the words left her mouth, but sometimes bribery was the only way.
Annabelle was still pouting, but she nodded and took Hilda’s hand.
Ten minutes later Blaire was back.
“What did Anderson want to know?” Kate asked.
“He was just verifying my whereabouts the night Lily was killed. I gave him the number of my doorman and the names of my neighbors. He also asked if you and Simon seemed happy.”
Kate raised her eyebrows. She wondered briefly if Blaire had mentioned her feelings about Simon to Anderson.
“I told him we hadn’t been in touch for a while, so I didn’t know. I’m sure he’s just looking at every angle. But what happened before? You looked like you’d just seen a ghost when I came into the hall,” Blaire said gently.
Kate dropped into a chair, worn out by the stress. “I guess Selby left a while ago?”
“Yeah. She didn’t want to be late for her massage. Is everything okay?” The concern was evident in Blaire’s voice.
Kate took a minute to think. Could she tell Blaire what was going on? There’d been a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated. When they were young, Kate had no secrets from her. Before Blaire, Kate’s confidante had been her diary. Bad moods and problems were frowned upon in her home, when she was growing up. Or at least they were kept hidden. Whenever Kate was upset, Lily had always comforted her—at least in Lily’s own way. After a hug and some kind words, she never failed to remind Kate of how incredibly fortunate she was, that she should be thankful for all she had, that complaining or getting upset at her small problems was a sign of ingratitude. When Blaire came along, things had changed. Blaire had told Kate about her absent mother, indifferent father, and hated stepmother. She shared her insecurities and anxieties, and slowly, slowly, Kate opened up too. She had felt like a bird being set free from its cage, grateful to finally have someone tell her it was all right to be sad or angry or however else she felt for as long as she felt. It would be such a relief to confide in her, to let it all out. It took only a few seconds for her to decide to ignore Anderson’s order of secrecy and plunge ahead. “Not a ghost,” she finally said, “but something equally terrifying. A message from the killer.”
Blaire’s eyes widened in surprise. “Lily’s killer contacted you?”
From there, it came out in a rush. The threatening text the night of the funeral, the mice in her bathroom sink.
“And just now he sent three dead blackbirds on a skewer with the nursery rhyme ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence.’”
Blaire stared at her, unblinking, for a moment. “That’s absolutely horrible! What do they think it means?”
Kate shook her head. “They don’t seem to have any idea.”
“Well, what’s the plan?”
“They’ve cloned my phone and computers to see if they can trace who sent the text. They’ve questioned all of us, gathered the foundation files from Mother’s office and the house. And they’ve talked to staff at the hospital and at Simon’s office. Only one thing was missing from the house—her diamond bracelet. You remember, the one she wore all the time.” Kate rubbed her eyes, the fatigue beginning to wear on her. “There was a broken window by the front door, but it could have been done later to make it look like a robbery gone wrong. At this point, Detective Anderson feels it’s someone we know. Or at the very least someone Mother knew.”
Blaire’s porcelain skin looked even paler than usual. “Unfortunately, I think your detective is right,” she said. “Did he give you any update on suspects?”
Kate shook her head. “He won’t share the details, but he assured us he’s being thorough.”
“Well, he seems to be. When he questioned me just now, he told me he was going to talk not only to my doorman but also to a neighbor who saw me. I think he’s good at following up. Let’s run it down ourselves. You were home when your dad called, right? Where had he been?”
“He’d been home earlier that day and went back to the hospital.”
“Okay, good. What about Simon?”
“He was at work. It was late, but that’s not unusual.”
“Was anyone there with him?”
Kate made her voice neutral. “Another architect. Sabrina Mitchell.” She didn’t want to get into the Sabrina situation right now.
“What if we make a list? Think of everyone you know. It could be anyone. Colleague, client, employee, extended family.”
Suddenly, the idea of this evil psychopath being someone close to her was too much for Kate. She closed her eyes and stayed very still, hoping to quash the painful twisting in her gut. She felt a hand on her knee, and when she opened her eyes, Blaire was kneeling beside her.
“I’m going to call Daniel and tell him I’m staying on, that I want to be here with you.”
“No, no. I can’t let you do that. I’m sure he’s missing you. And besides, it’s almost Christmas. It’s enough that you came for the service. It means the world to me.”
“I want to be here for you now. There have been so many years we’ve missed.” Blaire reached a hand out to Kate.
“But don’t you need to get back to your writing?”
“It’s December. The publishing world is quiet, and Daniel can do without me for now. He’s finishing up our last tour stop, and then we were planning on taking off until January. I do write a detective series. Maybe I can finally put all my book research to good use here. I don’t want to go anywhere until we find this bastard.”
Kate felt her body go limp with relief. Despite what she’d said, she desperately wanted Blaire to stay. “Are you sure? I mean, I would love that, but …”
“I’m sure. Just try to get rid of me.” Blaire smiled at her and rose. “I’ll get going now. You should rest. Call me if you need anything. I don’t care what time it is. I’m here for you.”
Kate grabbed her hand and held it as they walked to the front door together. “Thank you,” she said as she pulled Blaire into a hug, then watched her old friend descend the steps to her sports car.
Kate arched her back, trying to relieve the ache she felt. She needed to go for a run, to release some of this pent-up anxiety that threatened to consume her. She went to her bedroom and changed her clothes, grabbing her running shoes from the closet. Then she texted the security detail stationed outside. A return text informed her that Alan would be her companion for her run. She wasn’t worried about whether or not he could keep up. Simon had reassured her that all the guards were either ex-military or heavily trained in martial arts and weaponry.
When she got downstairs, Alan was waiting outside the front door. Even though it was only four thirty, the sun was going down and the air was frigid. She put her earbuds in, but Alan walked closer.
“Sorry, ma’am. I’d prefer it if you didn’t do that. I need to make sure you can hear me if I need to warn you.”
She groaned. How was she supposed to run with no music? “I’ll just leave one in.” He started to object, but she took off, “Sweet Child o’ Mine” playing in her left ear. Almost immediately she began to feel the tension leave as her stride lengthened and she picked up speed. She thought of nothing else but the pavement and her feet upon it as the cold air burned her cheeks. She wanted to run into oblivion, to go so fast that she would leave all the terror and grief behind. The hammering in her chest was so hard it felt like she would split in two, and she knew she was going way too fast. It felt so good to let herself fly, but she had to ease up. She gradually slowed her pace and put her hand on her chest, pushing against her breastbone.
She turned down the street and headed to the small pond that had a paved trail around it. There were other runners out there today, and she turned to look behind her, just to make sure Alan was keeping up. He gave a little wave. Before she faced front again, she noticed a runner approaching from behind, dressed all in black. Fast. She knew Alan was trailing her, but what if this man got to her first? Pushing her body, she picked up the pace, timing her breath to her strides. She threw another glance back at Alan and saw the black blur closer than it had been before. It had been a long time since she’d trained in sprints, but suddenly, she was doing just that, dodging oncoming pedestrians and fellow runners as she did. Her feet smacking the pavement, she felt the pace get out of control just as she came to a corner. She stopped cold and whipped around, the man running toward her, looking right at her. He was between her and Alan now—he had sped up, flying at her faster than she’d just been going.
Did she know him? He looked familiar. Maybe she’d just seen him out on one of her runs. Or maybe she knew him in some other way. Of course, maybe he was the killer …
Throwing her hands up to ward him off, she felt a wave of dizziness. By the time Alan reached her, it would be too late. A scream was working its way up her throat when the man blew right past her. She was flooded with relief so strong her knees buckled, and she rested her hands on her thighs, sucking in lungsful of air.
She had to get back to the house. She was too exposed.
Alan ran up to her, looking concerned.
“Let’s go back. Can you stay next to me?” She hated feeling so weak.
“Of course,” he answered, with no change in expression.
When they got back to the house, she ran upstairs, and turned on the shower, waiting for it to warm up. She threw her phone on the counter. It lit up, and her text tone sounded.
Private Caller. The pounding in her chest was instantaneous. She took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and read.
Did you like my gifts? Dead mice. Dead birds. Dead Kate?
“Stop this!” she yelled at the phone, tears springing to her eyes. Running to the bedroom, she picked up the house phone and dialed Detective Anderson. He answered on the first ring.
“I know,” he said without preamble. “We’ve pinpointed the IP address and are heading there now.”
“You know where this is coming from?” Kate asked, panting.
“The Starbucks on York Road. I’ll call you as soon as I know more.”
At least she knew the killer was miles away and not in her immediate area. And now they’d find him. Relief flooded through her. They would get this lunatic, and then she could breathe again. As she showered, she told herself that it was going to be okay. Anderson would find whoever was doing this and lock him up. She was drying her hair when her phone rang. Anderson.
“Did you get him?”
He cleared his throat. “By the time we got there, they’d turned the phone off and were gone. We know they used some sort of texting app that delivers over Wi-Fi. We were able to trace the IP address to that particular Starbucks. But once the phone is off, we can’t track it.”
“Did you question everyone? Maybe the person was still there.”
“We did. The place was busy, but no one noticed anything unusual. I’m sorry. We’ll be going through the video footage to see if anything looks suspicious—there are cameras everywhere. Of course, if they did it from the bathroom, we’re out of luck.”
The weight of her disappointment was crushing. She hung up the phone, dejected. Whoever was doing this was smart. Maybe too smart to get caught.
8
Tonight should have been a big night for Kate, Blaire reflected, the annual fundraiser for the Children’s Heart Foundation. Originally it was to be held at Kate and Simon’s home. But Kate was in no shape to host anything or go anywhere, and when Selby had stepped into the breach and offered to host the event at her house, Kate had asked Blaire to go in her place. Blaire was sure that Selby hadn’t taken kindly to that, but she’d agreed without hesitation.
She pulled around the circular drive to Selby and Carter’s enormous home in Greenspring Valley, which she had read about in Horse and Rider. They’d bought the seventy-five-year-old mansion right after they got married and spent five years on a meticulous restoration, pouring hundreds of thousands of dollars into the project. She stopped next to the fountain in the middle of the circle, and a valet opened her car door and extended a hand to help her out. Hugging her cashmere stole closer, she hurried up the expansive stairs to the black double doors, which were easily over ten feet tall. As she entered, she admired the elegance and sophistication of the grand foyer, with its silk pastel wallpaper and glittering chandeliers. She had to admit that Selby’s taste was impeccable.
Blaire gave her wrap to a uniformed butler. As she walked past an immense dining room, its lengthy mahogany table awash with silver candelabra and serving dishes, she saw Selby coming toward her, Carter at her side. She’d seen him across the room at the funeral reception and wondered again how this overweight middle-aged man could be the same good-looking guy she’d almost married.
Selby nodded as they approached. “Hello, Blaire. Welcome to our home. How nice of you to step in for Kate.” She shrugged. “I’d have been happy to do it, but I suppose your name probably will bring in more money, since you’re so famous now.”
“Well, I’m sure Kate thought it was enough that you opened up your home. Maybe she didn’t want to put you on the spot to make a speech. You remember how nervous you used to get when you had to present at school. There was that one time—”
“Yes, well,” Selby interrupted. “No need to go into that. I’m quite comfortable in the spotlight now.” Her voice was sharp.
Carter didn’t seem to notice the tension between the two women. He leaned in and kissed Blaire on the cheek. “Blaire, how good to see you.” His eyes swept over her, taking her in. “You look absolutely wonderful.”
Blaire was delighted by the admiring look on his face. The fiery red silk gown she’d picked up earlier at Octavia Boutique hugged her tall, slender frame. It was strapless, and her long dark hair brushed her bare shoulders. “Thank you.” She gave him a confident smile, determined to show him he had no effect on her anymore. It had been so many years since she’d seen him, but the memory of her humiliation came racing back with the force of a runaway train. She took a deep breath, pushing the past from her mind, composing herself.
“Everyone will be so thrilled that you’re here. A celebrity guest. How exciting! My mother is one of your biggest fans,” Carter gushed. “She’s dying to see you.”
Blaire’s eyebrows shot up. Really? His mother had wanted nothing more than for Blaire to be out of her precious son’s life all those years ago. Now she was dying to see her?
“And I’ve read every one of your books,” he continued.
“Carter,” Selby interrupted. “We have other guests arriving.”
He slowly dropped Blaire’s hand, and Selby snatched his hand in hers. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m sure you can find your way around.”
Blaire spotted Gordon and headed toward him, relieved to see someone she knew. Even in a tux, he managed to make a bow tie look silly—probably because his was light blue with bulls and bears on it. Was it supposed to be some sort of stock market witticism? It was no wonder he was still single.
“Hey there,” she greeted him.
“Blaire.” A curt nod in her direction.
“Having a good time?”
He shrugged. “These things are not really my cup of tea. Just here to support Kate and her foundation. Of course, it’s completely understandable why she didn’t come.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know you were thinking of her,” Blaire said. “Listen, Gordon. I was hoping to meet with you about some investments. I’d like more diversification in my portfolio, and I’m a little dissatisfied with my financial manager.”
His face became animated. She had his full attention now.
“Is that so? I’d be happy to look at your portfolio. I think you’ll find our firm knows how to strike just the right balance between risk and security …”
Blah, blah, blah. She tuned out the rest, impatient for him to wrap it up. Finally, he did, and she nodded.
“Great. How about if I come by Tuesday evening? Say around eight?”
He frowned. “Evening? I’m not typically at the office quite that late. Can you meet during the day?”
She tried her best to look regretful. “Sorry, but I’ve got interviews and PR obligations most of the week during business hours. I guess I’m spoiled, but my current guy has always worked around my schedule. One of the few things I like about him.”
He put a hand up. “It’s not that I mind, but it’s a whole thing with the security system at the office that far after hours.”
“How about if we meet at your house, then? After all, we’re old friends.” His shoulder jumped, and she wondered if it was a tic or just a reaction to her suggestion.
“Well, yes, I guess that will work.” He looked reluctant, and she wondered if he had something to hide or just wasn’t used to guests.
“Terrific.” She handed him a business card. “Email me the address, and I’ll see you there.”
She smiled. On Blaire’s list of suspects, thanks to his weird fixation on Kate, Gordon was number two—right after Simon, with his bullshit alibi.
Glancing around the room, she noticed the woman she’d seen at the funeral luncheon, now chatting with an older man. Dressed in a backless black evening gown that clung to her slender frame, she looked stunning and very much at ease. Blaire wondered who had invited her. Once the man had moved away, she walked over and, giving the woman her best smile, held out her hand.
“Hello, I’m Blaire Barrington.”
The woman appraised Blaire for a minute before answering coolly, “Nice to meet you. Sabrina Mitchell.” If she recognized Blaire’s name, she hid it well.
Blaire cocked her head. “Are you a friend of Kate’s?”
Giving her hair a toss, Sabrina returned Blaire’s stare. “No, I’m actually an old family friend of Simon’s. I was hoping to see him tonight, but he just let me know that Kate couldn’t pull it together to come. I thought about bailing too, but I’d already bought a new dress, so …”
Blaire looked at her in astonishment. “Her mother was just murdered. I don’t think most people could ‘pull it together’ after something like that.” This chick had some nerve.
Sabrina shrugged. “Well, it’s a charity event, and people bought tickets expecting to hear from her.”
“I’m actually filling in for her tonight.”
The woman regarded her carefully. “And who are you again?”
Blaire wanted to slap her. “I’m one of Kate’s oldest friends.”
“Really? I’ve never seen you at any of their parties.”
“I live in New York. I’m an author.”
Sabrina gave her a bored look. “Anything I would have heard of?”
“The Megan Mahooney series. It’s on TV too.”
Sabrina stared at her a long moment. “Oh yes, I have heard of that.” She shrugged. “I don’t really watch television. I find it a waste of time. And I read mostly literary fiction.”
She was some piece of work. Blaire arched an eyebrow. “I love literary fiction too. Who are some of your favorite authors?”
“Oh, you know, so many.”
Blaire wasn’t budging. “Like who?”
“Um, Virginia Woolf for one.”
“Really? What’s your favorite book by her? I personally love Mrs. Calloway,” Blaire said.
Sabrina nodded. “Yes, so do I. Well, if you’ll excuse me.” She walked away before Blaire could burst out laughing. What a little fraud. Mrs. “Calloway” indeed. Blaire would have to keep an eye on her.
She decided to find her table and go over her notes for her speech, but before she could move, Carter cornered her. Blaire took in the faded blue eyes, the puffy face, and the buttons straining at his middle. It was hard to believe she’d once wanted to marry him. Harder still to believe he’d been able to make her feel like she was somehow less than he was when he ended it.
“I was hoping we’d find a minute to catch up,” he said. “It’s been so long, but you look exactly the same.”
You sure don’t, she felt like replying. When he smiled, his eyes practically disappeared into his pudgy face. “How sweet of you to say. You and Selby have turned this house into quite a showcase.”
He smiled. “Thank you. It’s home.” He put a hand on her arm and continued, “I have to admit, I’m a bit awed. I loved your interview on Ellen. Who’d have thought one day you’d be in People magazine and doing interviews on television?”
I’d have thought, she wanted to say. Instead she simply said, “Thank you. It’s a job.”
“I’d say it’s more than a job. You’re like a superstar. My little Blaire, famous.”
His little Blaire? He wished. There was no comparison between him and Daniel, and she wanted him to see that. “My husband is the real superstar.” She pulled out her phone and found a picture of Daniel and her in Florence and showed it to Carter—the two of them on the Ponte Vecchio, Daniel with his thick black hair and killer blue eyes and Blaire smiling, tucked against his side.
“He looks like he could be in movies,” Carter said. “Both of you do.” The last part was clearly supposed to bring the conversation back to her, but she wasn’t letting him off that easily.
Blaire smiled. “And he’s as talented as he is good-looking. Looks like we both got what we deserved.” She wondered if he really loved Selby, or if his was a marriage of convenience.
“Do you have kids?” he asked.
Blaire forced a smile. “Not yet.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Selby glaring at them. Giving Carter a warm smile, she leaned in and grabbed his hand. “I think it’s time for me to welcome everyone here. Shall we go?”
“Um, yes,” he answered, gripping her hand tighter in his and leading her to the front of the room, where they’d set up a platform and microphone.
“May I have your attention, please?”
The room began to quiet.
“I have the pleasure of introducing Blaire Barrington, international best-selling author and good friend.” His voice became somber. “As you know, Dr. English has had a death in the family and was unable to attend. Ms. Barrington has graciously agreed to speak tonight in her stead.”
Blaire thanked him and took the mic. “It’s an honor to be here tonight. Kate asked me to convey her deepest appreciation to all of you for your generous support.” Blaire went through the acknowledgments Kate had given her, and then finished her speech with some stories praising Kate and her work on behalf of sick children. Twenty minutes later, she took her seat next to Elise, an old Mayfield chum who sent all four of her daughters to the school now. She could still pull off her preppy look because of her charm and youthful appearance, Blaire thought, smiling at her.
“Enjoying yourself?” Blaire asked.
“Yes, it’s a lovely affair. So sad that Kate had to miss it. Are you planning to bid on anything?”
Picking up the brochure, Blaire looked it over. “Not sure yet. I’ll see what catches my eye after the auction starts. You?”
“Maybe the Alaskan cruise. Whit and I could use a little getaway.”
Soon the bidding began in earnest as trips, paintings, and other high-ticket items all went for double or triple their value. Finally, the biggest item came up—a golf trip to St. Andrews in Scotland. Blaire sat back and watched in amusement as Selby and an older gentleman went at it. When Selby upped the bid another $500, he looked ready to quit but raised his number one more time and shouted, “Sixteen thousand.”
Ücretsiz ön izlemeyi tamamladınız.
