Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 03 - Money is Murder (12 page)

The Play

“GOOD MORNING, BEVERLY.”

“Mrs. McKinley? Where’s—”

“Oh, he decided to lounge at the condo for a bit longer.” Sara adjusted her hat and then the purse under her arm. Her eyes went to the framed photograph on the desk. It was unmistakably Jordan Reid.

“I’ll let Edward know you’re here. Tragic what happened to Robert,” Beverly said.

“What happened?”

“I thought for sure Edward would have told you.”

“Oh, yes, that.” Sara did her best to convey disinterest.

Beverly pinched her eyes tight for a second, compressing her brows slightly with the expression.

“Yes, Edward did call.” Sara didn’t add that the man had been a mess when he had done so. “Robert was murdered.”

Beverly let out a puff of air and leaned forward, elbows on her desk and her chin resting in her hands.
“First Cindy and now Robert.”

“I thought Cindy committed suicide?”

“Ah, yes, well, she did, but some people around here talk.”

“You don’t think she killed herself?”

Beverly looked beyond Sara.
“There would be a lot of people willing to kill her.”

The cold glint in the receptionist
’s eyes chilled Sara. Reflecting back on their previous interactions, paired with their newfound knowledge, the darkness had been there all along.

“I thought it would be nice to go for lunch with you,” Sara said. “My treat.”

“Mrs. Mc—”

“Sara, please.”

“Sara.” Beverly smiled. “That would be really nice, but I’m not sure why you’d want to have lunch with me.”

“Sean and I were at Cindy’s flat and we found something. Now, we’re not quite sure what to make of it.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“Just some information on a data stick. You said you used to be her assistant, right?”

Beverly straightened. “Yes, I was.”

Sara smiled.
“Perfect then.”

“I’m not sure if I can get away.”

“Nonsense. I’m the boss lady, really, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you are.” Beverly passed off another cool smile.

“I’ll be back then. One o’clock okay?”

Beverly nodded.

Sean stood at a newspaper vending stand outside the front doors of Universal. He watched Sara come over. She had this look on her face that made his insides bunch into a knot. She was apprehensive. Maybe they shouldn’t have provoked a potential killer.

She touched a finger to her right temple—the sign that everything was a go.

Now he just had to wait to see if Beverly took the bait.

After ten minutes, Beverly came outside in a brisk walk, a cell phone held to her ear. Sean couldn
’t make out what was being said and he had to be careful not to be too obvious. He couldn’t risk being spotted. He lifted the magazine that much higher, only his eyes were above the page.

“Hey, are you going to buy that?”

Another second later.
“Sir?”

Sean took one last glance at Beverly. She was getting into a company car. Not long after, it was on the move. His stomach lurched again as Sara’s followed behind.

He had to trust her. She was a cop before they met, and she had risked her life for the badge many times. Why was it so different now that she was his wife?

He felt the grip on his forearm and looked to see a man of shorter stature staring at him, his face set in a scowl.

He jabbed a meaty finger at the magazine.
“You buy?”

Sean pulled out a twenty and handed it over.

“I’ll get change.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you.”

Sean nodded, his mind on Sara as his cell phone rang. It was her.

“It worked, darling,” she said.

“Just be careful.”

“Always.” She fed him the directions.

He got into another company car.
“I’m right behind you.”

What Can We Fix For You Today

SARA WATCHED BEVERLY HEAD INTO a Starbucks. She wanted to ignore the warning in the back of her mind that cautioned not to go in after her until Sean arrived.

She noticed the random glimpses of the driver in the rearview mirror. No doubt he wondered why they were just sitting there. She divided her attention between him and Starbucks. Jordan Reid could be inside already. What
’s to say he hadn’t gotten there first? But she had promised Sean she’d wait on him. He shouldn’t be too far behind.

“What’s your name?” she asked the driver.

His blue eyes reappeared in the mirror.
“Marcus.”

“I’m Sara McKinley.”

“McKinley?”
Crease lines spread out from his eyes.

Sara looked back to Starbucks and she saw him—Jordon Reid was heading toward the door, wearing a thigh-length trench coat paired with jeans.

“We can stay here all day if you’d like, Mrs. McKinley.”

“No, that’s fine.” She reached for the handle.

“As you wish. Good day. Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Thank you.”
She got out of the car hoping for Sean’s arrival. She didn
’t have to wait long.

He wanted to hold her when he saw her standing on the sidewalk. It was like spying fresh water in the middle of a desert. He couldn’t help but jog a little to get to her faster.
“What do you know?” 

She nodded her head toward Starbucks.
“They’re both inside.”

“It looks crowded.”

“A Starbucks in New York City, do you think they ever experience a slow time?”

“Good point.”

“Just be careful.”

She pulled back on his arm.
“Please stop saying that.”

It was written in her eyes. He was insulting her.
“Sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry for caring. Just know I’m always careful, and even more so these days because I have so much to live for.” She tapped a hurried kiss to his cheek and headed inside.

He followed behind and spotted the couple right away. Too bad they spotted them too.

Jordan shot to his feet.

Sara turned.
“He’s got a gun!”

There was a bunch of screaming and people pushing their way past him to the front doors.

Sean gestured with a brush of his hand for everyone to get out. For Jordan to react so quickly, Sean and Sara
must have allowed just enough time for Beverly to fill Jordan in about the uncertainty with the USB stick.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Jordan,” Sean said.

“How do you know my name?”

Sara took a few steps toward them, as Beverly took up position behind Jordan.

“That’s not important.”

“Yes it is!”

“Your family runs Reid Incorporated.”

“So what?” Jordan’s gun hand wavered in the air. He wasn’t accustomed to holding one. They could use that to their advantage.

A woman came out of the bathroom, which was located behind Jordan and Beverly, and she began yelling and crying as she rushed past them.

“You don’t want to kill anyone,” Sean said.

“How would you know?”

Sean took a couple steps and stopped behind Sara, who had stopped moving.

“Just shoot them,” Beverly barked into Jordan’s ear.

He cupped his ear and turned on her.
“Shut up!”

That distraction was all that Sean needed. He hurtled toward Jordan and squeezed the wrist of the hand that held the gun. He heard it drop to the floor, then glanced back to ensure Sara got it. He spun around, only to meet with a fist to the face. He retaliated, punching Jordan
’s sides, but he shimmied and bucked, left and right, reducing the effectiveness of the blows.

The man was almost ten years younger, yet Sean’s
muscles were fired up and ready to work.

Another swing nearly connected with Sean’s head, but he lowered just in time. He waited for Sara to get the gun. It wasn
’t happening fast enough. He struggled to look at her, between blocking blows and dishing some out.

Then, Sara and Beverly were on the floor, grabbing each other
’s hair. Sara was on the bottom, but then the status quo flipped and had her on top. Gasps of squeals came from Beverly as her purse emptied across the floor.

He turned back to have Jordan’s fist meet with his gut. It instantaneously doubled Sean over—the wind knocked out of him by the swiftness of the impact. He forced himself to straighten and gather strength to return the favor.

When Sean’s body refused to resume full height, he barreled into Jordan, head-ramming him in the abdomen, knocking him into a nearby table. Jordan let out a howl as he crashed into it and fell to the floor.

Sean moved over him, fist raised and ready to deliver, when Jordan kicked his legs out from beneath him. He went down—hard.

“Stop right there.”

He heard the click of the gun and smiled, knowing there was no other woman he
’d entrust with the weapon more than his Sara. He looked at her, holding it, ready to fire, and his eyes went to the floor where Beverly was trying to reach a pill bottle that had spilled from her purse.

“Let me help you with that.” Sean swooped down ahead of her, read the label, and then held it for Sara to see.

“Sleeping pills.”

Sirens sounded outside the coffee shop. The cruisers came to an abrupt halt, the noses of the cars diving forward with momentum from the sudden stop.

The door to the coffee shop flung open and three officers rushed in, guns at the ready.

“Put down your weapon!”

Sara responded immediately, placing the gun on the floor and raising her arms in surrender.

They were taken down to the station and questioned, but it wasn’t long and they were released to the freedom of the streets. They walked along the sidewalk. Sean glanced over at Sara and smiled.

“What?” she said.

“Just you.”

“Just me? Look at you. Your poor nose always takes the brunt of things. How is it?”

“Tender.”

“I bet.” She nuzzled into his side and rubbed his arm. “Maybe we
should
take a vacation.”

He pulled away from her.
“A vacation? And miss all this fun?”

“I was just thinking.”

“You know we live for this, but we can take time off, here and there.”

“Uh-huh.” She laughed.

A silence followed, and Sean felt inclined to fill it. He owed her an apology for the way he’d treated her, both on the case in Cancun and here.
“Darling.”

“Yes, Sean.”

“You’re right about the way I treat you. It’s like you’re a china doll.”

She stopped walking.
“You have that tendency.”

“I’m sorry for that. I just love you.”

“Yes, and I love you. That’s not the issue.”

He had a hard time speaking from the heart. It wasn
’t one of the things that came easily or naturally to him. “What I’m trying to say is, I trust you.”

She laughed.
“I just took on a psychotic killer and I won. That’s all it took?”