John, Bailey, Travis, and Lilly took their seats at the table with Tehya, their gazes seemingly inattentive, though Tehya knew better. She could see the signs of their suspicions, their careful regard of each and every guest.
“Ms. Johnson.” Despite appearances and her demeanor of being less than cautious, Tehya still gave a start as Stephen Taite, his son, Craig, daughter-in-law Lauren, his granddaughter, Journey Taite, and the quiet, darkly brooding Beauregard Grant, stood just behind John’s chair as he sat in a protective position. “I heard Mr. Malone’s left. I had hoped to speak to him for a moment. Will he be returning?”
That was the cover story, that Jordan had left, only those associated with the assassin would believe he was dead.
That wave of agonizing anger and pain washed through her again, cramping her stomach and tightening her face.
She could feel her lips trembling as she tried to come up with a smile, too aware of the sudden interest when she couldn’t control her response.
“I don’t think…” she cleared her throat as her voice roughened.
“Mr. Malone was called away unexpectedly.” John stood and turned, his tone cool, brooking no questions. “Ms. Johnson is understandably upset that business concerns have dictated her inability to follow along with him.”
She swallowed tightly.
“Tey?” Journey moved around John, ignoring the sudden frown on his face as he attempted to block her.
She merely gave him an irritated look as Tehya rose slowly to her feet.
So innocent, so ignorant of the pure evil they shared the world with.
“I’m fine, Journey,” she assured the other girl, almost wishing they could go back to the day when their biggest worry was the landscaping scheme for a difficult client. “Jordan’s departure has simply left me upset, I guess.”
Stephen sniffed at her response to Journey. “A man has to do his business.”
Arrogance filled his gaze; it was a natural landscape for his expression. Her grandfather, as her mother had described him, was much different. Bernard had been openly generous, warm and compassionate, where his brother was more prone to hide his emotions beneath that cool exterior.
Francine Taite had dearly loved her uncle Stephen though, as well as her first cousin Craig. Though Craig, Francine had always stated, may have believed in his own arrogant facade.
But before her death, during the times Francine and Tehya had had together, Francine had seemed to live on her memories of her family and the laughter she had once shared
with them.
“We’re not certain when he’ll be returning,” John answered for her. “I believe Tehya is actually considering joining him once her business concerns are taken care of here.”
Stephen’s hawk-like gaze swung back to her as a brooding frown centered his brows.
“You’re leaving?” Journey’s voice lowered until Tehya was nearly forced to read her lips instead. “I need to talk to you.”
With her eyes, she gestured as though trying to glance behind her.
To Beauregard Grant.
He stood tall, brooding, and watchful behind the other girl.
Tehya glanced back at John. “I need a moment with Journey.”
“Journey can wait…” Stephen began to protest.
“But I can’t, Mr. Taite,” she informed him.
Family or no family, she’d come too far in her life to ever bow down to his arrogance, or his sense of superiority. It was one of the things her mother had always seemed amused by, Stephen’s sense of self-worth.
“I believe Journey has a previous appointment with me.” There was a sense of desperation filling the younger girl’s gaze and Tehya stared at him coldly.
“I really don’t care.” Keeping her voice soft she looked at his hand, then back to John with cool demand.
“I’m sure it won’t take long.” John turned to Beauregard, his expression confident that the other man would heed the order in his gaze.