Terror in Taffeta (30 page)

My mind raced, trying to figure out what Kirk's role had been in everything that had happened. Clearly he wasn't who he'd said he was, but could
he
have been the killer, dispatched by the security team from LionFish to do the dirty work? Or had they simply sent him to the villa that night to have another go at searching her room? “Brody, this is crazy! Are you sure it's him in the photo?”

“Well, no, his head is kind of turned to the side, and it's blurry when you blow it up.” Brody paused. “But I have to tell you, when I saw the photo, my immediate gut reaction was that it was him, and when you put that together with everything else you found out…”

I sighed, letting out a long puff of air. “So what should I do?”

“I think you should go to the police.”

“The police? And say what? ‘I met a guy who is super suspicious but I didn't catch his name and he's probably left town'?”

“You're right, that's not likely to get you far. But remember, you also have Naomi and Sam from LionFish, which means you at least have one solid lead for them to go on.”

“I know, I know. I'm afraid they're not going to take me any more seriously than they did before. I really dread going to that police station again and getting more abuse from those two. They seem to kind of hate me.”

“Then why don't you talk to Mrs. Abernathy. She can tell her lawyers, and they can deal with the police.”

“You're right,” I said. “That's actually a really good idea.”

“What do you mean, ‘actually'? I have lots of good ideas!”

“Awwww, look at you and your fake indignation. I gotta go, smarty-pants.”

Still unable to reach Mrs. Abernathy by phone, I walked back to the rental house. There was no answer at the door, so I dropped my bag on the ground and leaned against the wall. Where could they be? It was starting to get dark. Surely, they'd be home soon. Visiting hours at the jail were over, and Mrs. Abernathy usually insisted on dining early.

After waiting what felt like a really long time, I started to get impatient. I checked my watch. I'd only been there for three minutes.
Aaaarrgghhhh!
It had been a ridiculously long day, and I desperately wanted to sit for a while. Plus, I couldn't be sure that I was alone as long as I was standing out on the street. The more I thought about it, the more I didn't feel safe.

I checked my messages. Nothing. But I did have Marisol's phone number. If she was still at the office, maybe she could help.

“Bueno?”

“
Hola,
Marisol, it's me, Kelsey. Thank God I caught you!”

“Hi, Kelsey. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Well, sort of.” It was too long a story to get into over the phone. “I have a favor to ask. Mrs. Abernathy called, and she needs me to pick up something for her at the house. Can I swing by and borrow your spare key?” Okay, so I was totally lying, but it was far from the worst thing that had happened that day.

“No problem. I'm just finishing up some things. I'll be here a little bit longer.”

Right after I hung up, a text message lit up my screen.

Should I expect you for dinner?

Evan. I hesitated a moment. My things were still at his house, so I had to go back eventually, but I didn't really want to spend my last evening in town making awkward chitchat with him.

No, thanks. Finishing up some things. Don't wait up.

If I stayed out long enough, maybe I could sneak in and avoid seeing him altogether, at least until the next morning.

By the time I got back to the rental house, it was fully dark outside. I knocked on the door again, in case they'd gotten back from dinner while I was gone. Then, for good measure, I grabbed the brass knocker and banged it against the heavy wooden door loudly and repeatedly.
Sorry, neighbors.
I waited an appropriate amount of time, then let myself inside.

I hoped Mrs. Abernathy wouldn't mind my intrusion. But surely any annoyance she might feel would be forgotten when I told her my news.

As I slid the key into the lock and opened the door, I felt something brush past my leg. It was the orange tabby that had set off Mrs. Abernathy's allergies. Indignant at having been locked out all week, he jumped straight up onto the couch and started cleaning himself.
Good boy.

I turned on the lamp next to the couch, then wandered into the kitchen to search the refrigerator. Clearly buying groceries or saving leftovers was for commoners.

Returning to the living room, I picked up the cat. “Mind if we share the couch?” I lay down and set him on my stomach, where he stretched out and began purring contentedly as I scratched his head. “What a handsome boy. I shall call you Guapo.” Soon enough, I'd be back home with my own cats, but for now, my tabby
gato
was a nice surrogate.

Man, it felt good to relax for a second. I had barely slowed down all day. I closed my eyes, enjoying a moment of peace.

A sudden noise from somewhere outside startled the tabby. He hissed and jumped off me, racing across the floor and hiding behind a chair.

“Owww!” I cried, rubbing the rising welts on my stomach where his claws had dug in for traction. “What was that about?!”

I heard the noise again, but it wasn't coming from outside. It was coming from somewhere down the hall. Was Mrs. Abernathy home? Why hadn't she answered the door when I'd knocked? My entire system went on high alert. Maybe it was someone else. After all, Mrs. Abernathy would have had the common decency to come out and scowl at me after I'd let myself in.

I raced to the kitchen and looked around for something to arm myself with. Riffling through the drawers, I found a large knife, but it looked like it could hardly slice a banana. Typical for a rental; heaven forbid they stock proper cutlery. It was the best I was going to do on short notice, though, so I grabbed the heavy black handle and closed the drawer quietly behind me.

Damn it, how do you dial 911 in Mexico?
Nueve uno uno?
As a wedding planner, I was used to handling emergencies on my own. I was woefully unprepared for what to do in the case of an actual emergency.

I knew 911 wasn't right, but I tried it anyway. Nothing. I quickly dialed Marisol, but the call rolled over to the after-hours recording. She must have already gone home for the evening.

Stubbornly undaunted, I crept down the dark hallway clutching my knife, while Guapo stayed in his corner, flicking his tail furiously back and forth. At the end of the hall, I found three closed doors and paused, unsure which one to try. I listened as hard as I could, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I slowly turned the knob to the first bedroom and swung open the door, peeking inside. I couldn't see anything at first, but as my eyes adjusted I could make out the furniture and Nicole and Vince's suitcases. Nothing appeared to be amiss, unless someone was hiding.

I snuck up on the door to the master suite, pausing to listen for any noises coming from inside. I couldn't hear anything. I reached out, but my hand paused just short of the knob. What if someone really was in there? What exactly was I planning to do with a dull kitchen knife, anyway? I pulled back.
What am I thinking? I have to get out of here!

And then, well, I'm not exactly sure what happened next: Did I hear the loud
crack
first or feel the searing pain across my skull? I do know what happened after that, though: everything went to black.

 

CHAPTER 31

No matter the reason, waking up on the floor is never a good thing. It invariably leads to all sorts of existential questions, such as “Where am I? And how did I get here?”

I started to open my eyes, but the light hurt my head and I shut them again quickly. I reached up to rub the knot that was swelling on the back of my head but was having trouble moving. How long had I been out? I had no idea. I could barely remember my own name.

I heard movement and opened my eyes to see a dark figure hovering over me. I squinted, trying to focus, but things were still a bit blurry.

“You're awake,” Kirk said matter-of-factly. His eyes were dark, his friendly demeanor gone.

“Kirk…” I began. Was that even his real name?

I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but I still couldn't move my arms—which were inconveniently bound together with rope.

Where was I, anyway? Cold, concrete floor, a beat-up washer and dryer, stairs leading up—ah, the basement. I hadn't paid much attention to it when Marisol had showed me around, but then I hadn't figured anyone would be spending much time down here.

Kirk yanked me up into a sitting position. “Sorry I can't offer you a chair.”

Somehow I didn't think he was really sorry, as evidenced by the click of the gun he had pointed at my right temple. I leaned against the wall for support, closing my eyes for a second. My head felt like it was splitting open. Even my eyelashes hurt.

“Today must be my lucky day,” he said, kneeling on the floor next to me. “I came here to ask that nice family where I might be able to find you, and here you are.”

“Me? Why did you want me?”

“Because I'm looking for something—and I have a feeling you might just know where it is.”

My mouth was so dry it was hard to speak. “What do you mean?”

He leveled a cold stare at me. “Don't play dumb. You cleaned out Dana's room. She had some information with her. Information I need to get back. Sound familiar?”

I knew exactly what he meant, but tried to feign innocence. “But I don't have any of her stuff. I turned it all over to you.”

“Not everything.” He looked me dead in the eye. “Where are the flash drives, Kelsey? They weren't in her things. Believe me, I looked.”

My head was throbbing, and I scrunched my eyes shut to stave off the pain while I came up with an answer. Kirk, however, wasn't prepared to wait. He leaned over me and put the gun right under my chin. “Answer me!”

“Look, Kirk, we did find the information you're talking about, but we gave it to the police.”

He looked surprised, like the possibility had never even occurred to him. “I don't believe you! Now, where is it?”

“I'm telling you, I don't have it. Once we realized what it was, we handed it over.”

Kirk didn't like my answer. A vein on his left temple throbbed as he punched his left fist through the basement drywall.

I winced. Add that to the list of things Mrs. Abernathy was going to be mad about. Speaking of Mrs. Abernathy, where was she? Where were Nicole and Vince? For all I knew, they were tied up somewhere, or even worse—no. I refused to believe he'd harmed a bunch of innocent bystanders, because if he had, that would mean I was next.

Who was this stranger we had let into our lives without a second thought? Had he even known Dana, or had he been sent by someone else to retrieve the company's information?

My head had started to clear, and I angled my back away from him. I thought it best not to let on that I knew about Dana's plan, but I wanted to keep him talking while I worked to loosen the rope around my wrists. “What do you need it for, anyway?”

“That's none of your business.”

“If you work for LionFish, I can tell you right now that the police aren't going to go digging into those financial records. It's over. You can go home and tell everybody their secret is safe.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, rubbing the bloodied knuckles on his fist and staring at me with contempt. “I'm not from LionFish. This is about the money.”

I kept trying to pull one wrist free but wasn't succeeding at much more than giving myself rope burn. Stupid knots.
Keep him talking.
“What do you mean? What money?”

“The money LionFish was giving us to keep us quiet. If the investors found out how much trouble the company was in, it would all be over.”

I feigned surprise, but it was just an act. In the short time I'd known him, he'd lied to me, bonked me over the head, and tied me up in a basement. Surely he wasn't above blackmail, too. “So you were in on Dana's blackmail scheme?”

“In on it? It was my idea! Dana and I were supposed to be partners. Fifty-fifty, but then she decided to take all the money for herself.”

“Why would she do that? I thought you two were a couple.”

Kirk laughed bitterly. “We were. But I guess she had other plans.”

“What do you mean?” The binding around my wrists hadn't budged one bit, and my wrists were starting to feel raw from the effort.

“She'd been bugging me to come to the wedding with her, but I couldn't get the time off from work. She was pretty pissed. Said there was no way she was showing up without a date.”

“But she changed her mind?” Obviously she had, or she wouldn't be dead and I wouldn't be tied up in a basement, but the real question was
why?

“She didn't have a choice. Ryan said that LionFish was prepared to give her what she wanted, but that she had to bring everything to him in person. So she booked a flight. Things were pretty tense between us, and I felt so bad after she left that I decided to follow her down to Mexico to surprise her.”

“You just showed up?” Man, no wonder things had gone poorly.

He sucked in a deep breath and held it in for a second before continuing. “I thought she'd be happy I came, but apparently not. She told me I could stay, even snuck me into the villa, but she said she didn't want me to come to the wedding with her. She claimed it was too late to change the RSVP or something stupid like that.”

I was tempted to tell him that RSVPs are not stupid, they're a vital part of the planning process, but this was no time to stand on etiquette.

“When I asked her about the money, she said not to worry about it, that it was all taken care of. But I knew there was something she wasn't telling me. Then, when she was in the shower…” He stopped and shook his head angrily.