Once Gone (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1)

Chapter 30

Riley neared the Magnolia Gardens Country Club and was stopped at a little white building at the gate. A green and white striped boom barrier blocked the way, and a uniformed security guard holding a clipboard stepped out of the building and walked up to the driver's side of her car.

Riley opened the window.

"Your name?" the guard said brusquely.

Riley was not at all certain about the protocol needed to get into the club, but Newbrough had said he'd let them know she was coming.

"I'm Riley Paige," she said. Then she stammered, "I'm a, uh, guest of Senator Newbrough."

The guard scanned the list, then nodded.

"Go on in," he said.

The boom gate lifted and Riley drove on through.

The entry lane wound through the namesake gardens, extremely luxurious, colorful, and fragrant this time of year. At last she pulled up at a brick building with white columns. Unlike those on the funeral parlor she'd visited recently, these columns were the real thing. Riley felt as if she'd stumbled upon some sort of nineteenth-century Southern plantation.

A valet hurried up to her car, gave her a card, and took her keys. He drove the car away.

Riley stood alone in front of the grand entrance, feeling as out of her element as she had at the Senator's home. Dressed in casual jeans, she wondered if she'd even be allowed to enter. Wasn't there some kind of a dress code in places like this? It was a good thing her jacket draped loosely over her shoulder holster.

A uniformed doorman stepped out to meet her.

"Your name, ma'am?" he asked.

"Riley Paige," she said, wondering if he'd ask for some sort of identification.

The doorman glanced at his own list. "Right this way, ma'am," he said.

He escorted her inside, down a long corridor, and to a small, private dining room. She had no idea whether to tip the doorman or not. But then, she had no idea how much the man was paid. Might he make more than she did as an FBI agent? She thought it possible that offering a tip might be more gauche than not tipping him at all. It seemed best not to take chances.

"Thank you," she said to the man.

He nodded, showing no sign of disappointment, and went back the way they'd come.

The room was small but by far the most posh dining area she'd ever ventured into. There were no windows, but the single painting on the wall was an original oil of the namesake gardens she's passed outside.

The single table was set with silver, china, crystal, and linen. She chose a plush covered chair that faced the door and sat down. She wanted to see Senator Newbrough when he arrived.

If he arrives, she thought. She had no real reason to think he wouldn't. But this whole situation seemed so unreal, she didn't know what to expect.

A white-suited waiter came in and placed a tray with cheeses and a variety of crackers on her table.

"Would you like something to drink, ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Just water, thanks," Riley said. The waiter went out and within seconds popped back in with a crystal pitcher of water and two matching glasses. He poured water for her and left the pitcher and the other glass on the table.

Riley sipped at her water. She had to admit to herself that she enjoyed the feel of the elegant glass in her hand. She only had to wait a minute or two before the Senator arrived, looking every bit as cold and severe as he had before. He closed the door behind him and sat down on the opposite side of her table.