Cold in the Shadows 5 (29 page)

“Then we’ll look elsewhere, but you aren’t staying here,” Killion repeated as if she’d gone deaf. Then he disappeared into the hall. She crept after him. He was already halfway up the stairs and moving so quietly he didn’t even disturb the particles in the air. How was that even possible?

She started after him, forcing herself to go more slowly when a stair creaked. He paused and looked over the bannister at her.

She grimaced and carried on. Upstairs they turned right down yet another unlit corridor. When Rebecca had been alive this house had always seemed like a gothic adventure, romantic and fun. Now it felt creepy, ghosts and misery marching side-by-side in the gloom.

Killion slowed to let her lead the way, although he obviously knew the basic layout. She slipped in front of him and stopped outside the dressing room door. She held the knob firmly as she opened it, but Killion grabbed her hand when it let out a low groan.

His body was suddenly pressed tight against hers and stirred so many memories her head swam. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. His fingers squeezed hers, both in reassurance and in demand to let him do this. She let go of the doorknob and moved out of the way.

He held the knob and did something with the door, but it still squeaked. Then he took a small bottle out of his pants pocket and carefully put a drop of something on each hinge.

“Baby oil,” he whispered. “Comes in useful for other things, too.” His features were indistinct in the dim light, but she caught the flash of teeth.

She pinched his ass because this was
serious
and he was making sexual innuendos.

This time when he tried the door it swung open noiselessly. They both moved cautiously inside. One entire side of the long narrow room held a rack of shirts and suits. A shelf of neatly stacked shoes sat beneath. Audrey couldn’t see a damn thing, but Killion walked straight up to the safe, which was hidden in the wall beside a mirror on the opposite side of the room.

The door to Gabriel’s bedroom at the other end of the room was slightly ajar.

Killion turned the dial without Audrey telling him any numbers. Apparently the man had a photographic memory for detail. The place smelled of sandalwood and cedar, but there was also the faint air of dusty disuse.

An echo of Rebecca’s laughter and the image of her whirling in front of that mirror holding her diamonds to her ears flashed through her mind. Audrey stumbled and caught herself on the arm of a suit jacket. The metal hanger ground against the rod with a low squeal. They both froze. Killion stopped in his silent perusal of the safe’s contents, and went to the door that led into the bedroom.

Killion eased it wider, and that’s when Audrey realized he’d put on some sort of goggles that must help him see in the dark.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

So much for being quiet. He flicked a light switch on, and Audrey put both hands over her mouth to suppress the scream that wanted to escape. Gabriel lay in bed with a pistol in his hand, half his brain on the wall behind him.

She stood there, staring at him dumbly.

The sound of a distant siren snapped her out of her stupor. Killion was already pulling her through the house at full speed, not worrying about making any noise now.

She stumbled, but he didn’t slow down. Out the front door. He drew up short, switched direction and ran behind the house, dragging her along with him even though she could barely keep up. Down a small path between shrubs and bushes. They reached a high wall at the edge of the property. She was panting heavily, the cold air making her wheeze. Killion cupped his hand for her to stand on and virtually launched her onto the top of the wall. She latched on, clinging like a kid on her first pony ride. She leaned down to help pull him up.

“Jump, dammit.” He caught the top of the wall just as a bullet chipped the stone beside her leg. “Go!”

She dropped over the other side, rolling on the ground as she landed. More shots sounded and her heart hammered. Where the hell was Killion?

Then he was at her side, holding her hand and dragging her at a full run through the sparse forest. She tripped over uneven roots, and slipped on wet icy leaves, but he didn’t let it slow them down. He slid to a halt when he hit the road, and a pair of brake lights flashed in the darkness up ahead. Still propelling her forward, he opened the front passenger door of the van and pushed her inside and climbed up beside her, even though there was only space for one. He slammed the door shut and pulled her onto his lap.

“Drive,” he told Parker. “Just drive.”

Chapter Nineteen

“W
HY DIDN’T YOU
just kill her?” Devon Brightman snapped into the phone. He paced in agitation. Why wouldn’t Audrey die? It wasn’t natural to be this lucky. He pulled at his hair.

“She went to the front door while I was taking care of your father. Let the spook in before I could get to her room. I couldn’t risk him seeing me. The only way we get away with this is if no one suspects either of us. I got out of there and called the cops on a burner from a few miles away, reporting suspicious activity. Then I came home.”

“Fuck.” His hand formed a fist.

“They disabled the security cameras, but we still have the video feed you set up.”

He grunted. He’d set up a camera in his father’s home office because he’d wanted to see what his old man was up to. To gain the upper hand and make sure his dad didn’t suspect his illegal activities. Now the cameras were going to help Devon get away with the perfect murder. “Did Gabriel say anything before he died?”

“He was asleep. I didn’t wake him to ask for any last words. It looks exactly like someone tried to stage his suicide. Audrey is going to be on America’s most wanted list. You have your alibi ready?” Tracey asked him.

“She’s asleep.”

“Go wake her up and fuck her blind. She has to swear you were there. Okay, I have a call coming through on my work cell. Cops will be knocking on your door shortly, but I’ll go to the mansion first and confirm before coming to you.” She hung up.

Devon slipped the battery out of the burner cell and wandered to the kitchen sink, stuffing the handset down the garbage disposal and grinding it to a pulp. He tried to fathom how he felt about his father’s death, but all he felt was the desperate need to get away with it. The guy had never given him any credit. Made him work his way through the company from the ground up. Ironically, Devon had learned enough about the intricacies of the shipping process to instigate his own drug smuggling operation. It probably wasn’t what Gabriel had had in mind when he’d started this charade.

His father had never been able to see him for what he really was—a fricking computer genius. He’d always just been second best to his sainted sister. Well, he’d shown her and his old man. Devon had started planning Rebecca’s death the day he’d buried his mother. His mother had understood him. She’d loved him. Once his mother had succumbed to cancer, his father had pushed him further away, and Devon had known exactly how to punish him.

Getting rid of Rebecca meant he was also one step closer to getting his hands on his money, all of it. He didn’t have to share with Miss Goody Two Shoes.

He’d figured killing Rebecca and Audrey together would make it look less targeted killing, more a crime of opportunity. He’d almost pissed his pants when the gun jammed. He’d never forget Audrey’s wide terrified eyes, or Rebecca’s screams of pain.

Afterward he’d befriended Audrey to make sure she didn’t suspect him. It had been fun stringing her along, then seducing and secretly making a fool of her. And then she’d turned around and dumped him.

Bitch.

He’d hidden his anger and played the long game. He’d worried that if his father died too soon Audrey would figure it out. Now he’d gotten rid of them both with one brilliant move, and no one would believe a word Audrey said.

He walked into his bedroom. Audrey’s little sister was stretched out under his silk sheets. He crawled in bedside her and trailed his lips up the indent of her naked back. Physically the sisters were alike. But Audrey was such a good girl and Sienna was such a bad one.

He knew how much Sienna’s issues troubled her more responsible sister. It had been easy to get Sienna to OD, whereas Audrey would barely drink a beer. He hadn’t let Sienna get high tonight even though she’d begged him. He’d wanted her mind clear for when the cops came. She stretched beneath him, and tried to turn onto her back, but he didn’t let her.

He gathered her dark hair in his fist and used it as an anchor. He was going to make sure this was a sex session she never forgot, especially if she had to relate it in detail to a bunch of smirking detectives who wanted to know
exactly
what he was doing when poor old daddy drew his last breath.

*     *     *

T
HEY’D SWITCHED CARS
and driven a couple of miles from the scene. Neither he nor Audrey spoke.

Parker drove. Finally he asked, “What happened?”

“Brightman was dead when I got there. Shot in the head. Staged to look like a suicide.” Thoughts and doubts swirled through his mind. He squashed them. “Any news on Crista?”

Parker’s mouth pulled back tightly, and Killion knew what that meant. They’d both heard the explosion, listened as the signal was fried. He’d lied to himself earlier so he could do his job, but Crista was dead. And she was dead because she was his friend. A fist of emotion twisted his gut.

Audrey sat silently in the back seat, seemingly in shock.

Those doubts pierced his mind like shards of glass. Could he have been wrong about her? Had she killed Brightman? She could have left the mike in the bedroom, found a gun in the house, killed the guy, returned to get the mike, and then calmly let him in the front door.

She caught his gaze in the mirror, glared at him. “You think I killed Gabriel.”

“Did you?” he asked sharply.

“Yeah, I shot your chief suspect—the man
I
said was innocent.”

“You insisted on going in alone.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her lip trembled. “Yeah. I did.”

“You could be cleaning up loose ends.”

“Then you’re next, big boy. Better watch your back.” She stared out of the window, and her tears were reflected in the passing street lamps. He forced himself to harden his heart against the effect she had on him. Circumstantially, she could have committed all the murders. He had to start thinking with his brain and not his dick.

“Who called the cops?” asked Parker.

Killion looked at him. Then closed his eyes.
Fuck
. If Audrey was the assassin there’s no way she’d have called the cops while she was still in the building, because she was the one who’d end up in jail. They’d bypassed the security system, and the guard had been oblivious. Therefore, logically, the only person who would have called the cops was whoever killed Gabriel Brightman. Once again they’d set the biologist up to take the fall for a murder they’d committed, and once again he’d fallen for it.

“Shit. Audrey, I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, shoulders pulled so tight to her frame they brushed the bottom of her ears. “It’s fine.” She continued to stare fixedly out the window.

Killion ran his hands over his face. “Did you hear anything? See anyone else in the house?”

She shook her head.

The idea the killer had been so close to her made him feel physically ill. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he wiped it away on the sleeve of his shirt.

“What Killion failed to mention,” Parker cut into the taut silence, “is he’s worried one of his best friends might have just been killed—probably by the same assassin we’re after. He wasn’t thinking properly.”

Audrey drew her knees up to her chin and refused to speak. Who could blame her? What the hell had he done?

Killion’s cell rang. It was Jed Brennan. He knew he didn’t want to hear whatever Jed had to say. “Yes?”

“I’m at the scene. It’s a mess. I’m sorry, Crista Zanelli didn’t make it. She died immediately. Car bomb. No one else was injured.”

Acid rose up Killion’s throat, burning the lining. Crista was a great person—generous, smart, and funny. She should have decades in front of her, a decent man in her life, kids. He forced the rage and grief back down along with the bile. He’d find the bastard responsible and put the fucker away.

“I spoke to her boss and told him it was possibly related to one of our cases,” said Jed. “Feds are in charge of the investigation, and someone from the Richmond field office is on their way. Her boss promised I’d have access to all the searches she ran over the last few days.”

So they could trace the burner number the woman had given Crista. It wouldn’t matter. The burner would be as dead as she was.

“Crista died because some bitch decided she was the weak link in getting to me, but she was wrong.” He told Jed the other bad news. “Gabriel Brightman is dead.”

“Shit,” Jed’s voice dropped lower. “Look, I’m dealing with some serious interagency politics here. And I can’t reveal what you’re doing so you guys need to lie low for a while. Regroup so we can figure this out. I’ll talk to Frazer.”

And Frazer needed to talk to the president to call off the heavily armed cops and feds who’d have Audrey Lockhart targeted as their chief suspect.

“We’ll lay low,” said Killion. Whoever killed Crista knew about the fact she and Killion were friends, which again pointed to an internal breach. How did Killion protect Audrey from his own people?

“Ah, damn. I just got more bad news.” Jed swore bitterly.

“What the hell else can go wrong?” Killion’s laugh was mirthless.

“Someone just leaked your face and name to the media.”

What the fuck?

Killion turned to Parker. “I thought you turned off the security cameras?”

“I did.” Parker frowned. “I guess we just confirmed what the other weird signal was.”

Killion sat there stunned. This was the end of his career. “Can you get a news blackout on this?” he asked Jed.

“I’ll try, but some hacker put your information on the web along with your name and Audrey’s. They’re saying you killed Brightman. Sorry, pal, looks like your clandestine days are over.”