Page 55 of Scored

My mind was short-circuiting. “You got into my purse?”

“Vee, you usually left your leather bag open. I wasn’t rifling through your panties. I was helping your cousin.”

“You’re saying the last time you saw my pillbox, Grant had it.”

“Yes.”

“When Grant told you about the find, did he say it was mine?”

“I asked if it was. He sort of laughed and said it could be. When I asked if he’d returned it to you, he said he thought he had. He said he wasn’t going on car rides with Reid. The two of them weren’t close.”

Trying to swallow, I realized my mouth was dry. My eyes weren’t. New tears streamed down my cheeks. “It was my pillbox in his car? What if Dad died because he took some of my Benadryl?” Another thought materialized. “Grant said… one day after a home game… he was pretty drunk. He told me the note wasn’t supposed to be there. He said it would all be different. Preston, was he trying to frame me for Dad’s death?”

“I don’t want to believe that.”

“Fin asked me about the pillbox, but he didn’t tell me what you just said.”

“I didn’t tell him the story. I hoped if I told you, you’d understand I didn’t give it to Grant for any other reason than to help his allergies.”

The reason I called came back to me. “Did you know our fathers were working together on a business deal?”

“Thoroughbred football. A lot like cricket. I don’t think it will catch on.” He paused. “I didn’t, Vee. I’m trying to joke.”

“Sorry, I’m not in a joking mood. I saw a picture of my dad with your dad at an upscale steakhouse in Lexington, taken two days before his accident. According to the detective, eyewitnesses said their dinner was contentious.”

“Do you have any more to go on than that? What were they talking about?”

“I don’t know for sure. However, I think it was about Dad’s dream of hosting a Super Bowl. Crystal Light is more than adequate. The NFL has specific rules regarding a host city. Lexington needs more hotels. The detective thought they were meeting because your father offered a substantial investment toward a new hotel in Lexington.”

“Dad,” Preston said, “is working with a private hospitality firm on a hotel near Meadow Farms—The Meadow Farms Inn. The hospitality industry is making a fortune. People want to travel, but not overseas as much. Dad has the idea of a hotel with wine and bourbon tasting, an upscale restaurant, and tours of Meadow Farms. He has set his sights on a piece of the Bourbon Trail pie.”

“You haven’t heard that he was looking to invest in Lexington?”

“I haven’t. He’s had me working on the property he bought for the inn. It’s rundown, but the people he’s working with have a vision for what it could be.”

“You never said anything about this before. Is it a new endeavor?” I asked.

“Vee, whenever I talked about Meadow Farms, you zoned out. Everything was always about the Coopers.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “about the pillbox. I don’t know how it got from Grant to Reid. Maybe he gave it to Reid to give to you?”

“It would be just as easy for him to give it directly to me.” I shrugged. “This is just another piece of a puzzle I don’t think will ever be a complete picture.” I remembered about Preston’s hospital stay. “Hey, are you all right? I heard you checked yourself into an emergency clinic and you ended up staying in the hospital. Did I hear from Grant it was a stomach bug?”

“I’m better.”

“Thank you for answering my call,” I said.

“If I find out anything about Dad meeting with Reid, I’ll call you. If you’ll answer.”

“I’d appreciate any information.”

“You know,” Preston said, “Reid never said anything to me about it. It must have been something that took place after you broke up with me.”

I paused. “Bye, Preston.”

“Bye, Vee.”