Page 30 of Shattered Truth (Off The Grid: FBI #15)

Chapter Seventeen

The valet at Valmont Country Club moved with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to handling cars worth more than most people's homes. Matt watched a gleaming Bentley disappear around the corner as he and Haley got out of his SUV.

Jason was waiting for them as promised and escorted them into the club. It felt very much like old money, with wood-paneled walls in the lobby filled with oil paintings of men in golf attire.

"The founding members," Jason murmured, catching his gaze.

"Is your father on this wall?"

"No, he came in later."

"I didn't realize you were a member," Haley said.

"I inherited the membership. Sometimes it's helpful when I need to speak to rich and powerful people in a more casual atmosphere," Jason replied as he led them to the check-in desk, which was manned by a busty blonde with a fixed smile, who looked like she'd spent a lot of time at the plastic surgeon.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Colter," she said with a warm smile.

"Hello, Deb. How are you?"

"Quite well. I haven't seen you in a long time. No golf for you today?"

"Too busy with work."

"Saving the world," she said.

"Trying to."

"And these are your guests?" Deb asked.

"Yes. Matt Lawson and Haley Kenton," Jason replied smoothly.

Deb's smile never wavered as she handed them temporary membership cards. "Welcome. The tournament just concluded. Cocktails and canapés are now being served on the main terrace. The awards ceremony will take place in about thirty minutes, with a buffet lunch to follow. Enjoy yourselves."

"Thank you," Jason replied.

They followed him through the clubhouse, past a dining room where white-jacketed servers were setting tables with crystal and silver, toward the sound of conversation and clinking glasses.

The main terrace opened onto a spectacular view of the golf course, with the San Gabriel Mountains rising in the distance.

Matt accepted a club soda from a passing server as Jason and Haley did the same, each of them pausing to sip and survey the scene. It felt very much like the event they'd attended yesterday. There was no art, but the people were very much the same.

"I wonder if this is what these people do every weekend," Haley murmured. "Do they go from one party to another, one tray of rich, decadent canapés to another filled with glasses of the most expensive champagne? It seems so…pointless."

"There's more happening here than champagne and canapés," Jason said. "These events are where a lot of deals are made."

"I'm surprised they would let you be a member since you work for the FBI," she commented. "Aren't they worried about you seeing something or overhearing something?"

"They like having a law enforcement presence. It makes them look legitimate, as if they have nothing to hide."

"Or maybe it's a good place for them to convince law enforcement to act on their behalf," she suggested. "Like shutting down a police investigation. No offense."

Jason smiled. "I'm fairly sure you meant that to be offensive, but I understand where you're coming from. The investigation into your brother's death was shoddy at best, criminal at worst."

"I'm sorry. You're trying to help me get to the truth. I didn't mean to insult you."

"You didn't. This isn't my scene any more than it's yours," Jason said. "But my father liked it. He was politically ambitious, and memberships like this helped him become the deputy director of the FBI. I have no such ambition. But sometimes, the membership proves useful, like today."

"There's Brooke," Haley said suddenly, tipping her head toward the brunette moving toward the women's lounge in a pale-yellow sundress that certainly didn't disguise her beauty. "I'm going to see if I can talk to her."

He didn't like that idea at all. "You can't confront her," he warned. "Not with so many people around."

"She might be alone in the locker room."

"I highly doubt that. We're here to observe, not act…not until it's the right time," he said. "And Brooke won't tell you anything with her friends around."

"I understand, Matt. I'm just going to observe her a little more closely, and if she sees me, I'll simply say hello. If she's alone, I'll see what else I can find out."

He didn't want her to go, but she was already gone, and he couldn't follow her into the women's locker room.

"She'll be fine. This place is crawling with people," Jason said, catching his eye.

"And at least a half dozen of them might have killed her brother."

"Well, I don't think they're going to kill her here, and you wanted to make people nervous, right?"

"By our presence as a group, not by hers alone."

"She's doing her part; let's do ours," Jason said. "Time to mingle."

Haley made her way into the women's locker room, which was as posh as the rest of the club.

There was plush carpeting under her feet, alcoves of lockers with comfortable ottomans, mirrors for hair and makeup, a spa with a steam room and hot tub, as well as a large bathroom.

There were several women washing their hands and reapplying makeup, but none of them were Brooke.

As she moved around a corner past a sign pointing to the massage rooms, she heard voices coming from one of those rooms, where the door was slightly ajar.

She paused next to a tall potted plant, pretending to be looking at her phone while she eavesdropped.

"You need to pull yourself together, Brooke."

"I'm trying, Jill, but Haley just walked in with that FBI guy and probably another agent. What are they doing here?"

Haley tensed at the mention of her name.

"They're just fishing," Jill said. "You need to get a grip. People are starting to worry about you."

"I can't help being nervous," Brooke replied, and Haley could hear the strain in her voice. "They keep asking me questions and looking at me with suspicion."

"Get past it," Jill said coolly. "You did what you had to do. We all did. This is almost over. Just keep it together for a few more weeks."

Her pulse quickened at Jill's words. A few more weeks until what?

"I don't know if I can," Brooke said. "I think I should take a vacation, go away for a few days."

"You can't do that. We have an event next weekend, and I need you in the office. It will also look suspicious if you leave. Just take a breath. They don't know anything. They can't prove anything. You need to act normal."

"What if they find out about?—"

"They won't." Jill's voice carried a warning edge.

"How can you be so sure after what happened to that woman?"

"I don't know what happened to her. I don't want to know. And neither do you. We can't look back, Brooke. We have to look to the future. It's going to be good. We're all going to be rich. That's all that matters."

Haley heard voices approaching and slid out from behind the plant, her heart racing, as she put a smile on her face and walked back down the hall, passing two older women who were chatting about someone's husband cheating on his wife.

They didn't give her a second look, and she quickly made her way out of the locker room.

She wanted to talk to Brooke even more now that she knew Brooke was scared. She could be the weak link in the group, someone they could exploit, but not here, not where all the others were.

Matt was right. They needed to talk to Brooke when she was alone.

But it had been worth the risk to follow her, because now she knew that Brooke was having second thoughts and that there was something about to happen soon.

She couldn't begin to imagine what that was, but Brooke knew, and they had to get her to talk.

"Jason, Agent Lawson, I didn't expect to see you here," Graham Adler said as he joined them by the bar.

"I understand congratulations are in order," Jason said.

A broad smile flashed across Graham's face as he waved his hand toward the rest of his foursome. "Henry and I have bragging rights for another year, don't we, son?"

"That's right," Henry said. "Jason, have you met Drew Sanderson and his father, Kent, our more than worthy opponents?"

"We haven't met," Jason replied. "This is my associate, Special Agent Matt Lawson."

He extended his hand to Kent and then Drew, happy to meet Landon's big brother. Drew had brown hair and fair, freckled skin. He was a little softer in the middle than Henry or the older men, including his father, Kent Sanderson, who had white hair, dark eyes, and very tan skin.

"Are you a golfer, Agent Lawson?" Drew asked.

"More of a hacker. But I understand you all finished at the top."

"The Adlers won, not us," Kent interrupted, anger in his gaze. "My son has yet to learn how to keep himself out of the rough. Isn't that right, Drew?"

Drew's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Just wasn't my day, Dad." He gave a careless shrug.

"Seems like it is never your day," Kent said with a sarcastic smile. "I keep hoping you'll start living up to all those golf lessons and that expensive education I gave you."

The silence that followed that comment was thick with tension. Drew's face flushed, and Henry shot Drew a sympathetic look, while Graham's expression grew uncomfortable.

"Now, now, it's just golf, Kent," Graham said. "And you and Drew smoked poor Trent and Charles. They ended up in fourth."

"Trent can barely hold a club," Kent said. "Hardly a victory."

"Kent," Henry said. "Megan was looking for you earlier. She was looking attractive as always."

Kent's face went still, then he cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

"Careful, son," Graham said quietly, but his voice carried a clear threat. "When you poke the bear, sometimes you get bit."

Henry's smile was all innocence, but his eyes glittered with something that looked like malice. "Just making conversation, Dad."

"Sure, you were," Graham said. "I'm going to get a drink."

As Graham left, Henry said, "So what are you two really doing here? Have you found any leads on who might have killed Sabrina?"

"Still looking," Matt replied. "We were hoping to talk to you, Drew."