Deception (13 page)

Groaning, she pulled the pillow over her head. Peter had been right when he’d accused her of having a major crush on Dylan.

Peter.

What happened to him tonight? Did he fall? Did he jump? And why had Marissa’s daughter shown up at this particular time? Unlike Dylan, Mia refused to believe that teenager had anything to do with the doll or the rock.

Mia’s legs twisted in the sheets, and she stuffed the pillow beneath her head again. Strange forces were gathering in Coral Cove. Perhaps Kylie Grant, the fortune-teller, had stirred them up. Perhaps this sense of doom was the culmination of a summer soaked with murder and mayhem.

She shivered and tucked the ends of the blanket around her body. Maybe Dylan was right. She should finalize her decision about Columbella House and get out of town.

The sooner the better.

* * *

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
, Mia flung open the drapes at her window and a blast of sunshine warmed her face, dissolving the previous night’s fears.

She had a meeting with Linda Davis today at Columbella House to discuss renovation. She’d have dinner tonight to get to know her niece and make amends. She’d even send a sympathy card and flowers to Peter’s sister.

Then she’d apologize to Dylan. She had no intention of pushing away the one bright spot in her life right now.

Showered and dressed, she leaned in close to the mirror above the sink in the bathroom to put on her mascara. Her cell phone buzzed on the tile counter and she checked the display.
Unknown.

Hell, what wasn’t
unknown
in her life right now?

She stabbed the button to answer and then the one for Speaker. Wielding her mascara wand again, she said, “Hello?”

A man’s deep voice rumbled over the line. “Is this Mia St. Regis?”

“Yep.”

“This is Matt Conner, friend of Dylan’s. Do you remember me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Long black hair, motorcycle, surly expression.”

He laughed, a booming sound that had her almost jabbing herself in the eye. “Nailed me. Dylan gave me your number when he asked if I could look into your sister’s whereabouts.”

“Yes?” A pulse throbbed at the base of Mia’s throat. “Dylan said you didn’t have time.”

“No, I don’t. Sorry.”

Mia started breathing again as she brushed more black goop onto her lashes. “That’s okay. Dylan’s going to help me.”

“I did have a chance to look into one thing, though.”

Her heart rate ticked up again. “Oh?”

“Dylan told me Marissa took off for foreign parts when she left Coral Cove, right?”

“Yeah. I think she may have gone to Brazil, and then she was in Europe. The last postcard she sent me was from France.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Excuse me?”

“Didn’t happen. She didn’t go to Brazil or Europe, unless she went under an assumed name.”

Mia moistened her dry lips. “How do you know?”

“I checked her passport records. Marissa St. Regis hasn’t left the United States since she was twenty-one years old.”

Mia dropped the mascara wand in the sink where it left a black smudge against the white porcelain.

If Marissa hadn’t been sending her those postcards all these years, who had been?

And why?

Chapter Ten

“Mia? You there?”

She was here, but where was her sister? “Sh-she sent me postcards.”

“Maybe she did, and maybe she traveled to all those places, but she didn’t use her passport. Was she hiding from something…or someone? Is there any reason she’d be traveling on a forged passport with a different identity?”

“Of course not. Why would she do that?” A hard knot had formed in the pit of Mia’s belly.

“Dylan told me she took off with some Brazilian con artist. Maybe that dude was in trouble with the law.”

“Raoul?” Raoul had been on the lookout for a quick buck and a quick lay, but real trouble with the law? Doubtful.

“Do you have Raoul’s last name? I can run a check on his passport, too. See where he’s been.”

Mia gripped the vanity with trembling hands. Did she want to know? “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. Dylan said you were busy.”

“Yeah, I have a full plate right now, but this seemed important to Dylan and I owe him big-time.”

“You owe Dylan?”

“I had some trouble with my job, and Dylan stood by me. Even though he was going through that big mess in San Jose, he had time to talk me off a few ledges. Like I said, I owe the man.”

Mia blinked at her reflection. “Dylan had a big mess in San Jose?”

“Uh, just on-the-job stuff. Do you have that last name?”

So she wasn’t the only one who had a couple of secrets. “Neves. His name was Raoul Neves.”

“I’ll do what I can this morning and get back to you.”

Before he ended the call, Mia sputtered. “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“You were here with Kylie Grant when she had that vision or feeling about my sister, weren’t you?”

“I was there.”

“How accurate are Kylie’s feelings?”

He cleared his throat. “She can get confused. There was a lot of stuff going down last month, a lot of psychic turmoil for her.”

“Stop dancing around. How accurate are Kylie’s premonitions?”

He paused, and the line buzzed between them. Then he heaved out a heavy breath. “Pretty damned accurate.”

She thanked him and ended the call. Clasping the phone to her chest, she stared at herself, wide-eyed, in the mirror. What did it mean? If Marissa hadn’t been in Europe all those years, who was sending the postcards?

She swiped on some lipstick and then plucked her makeup bag and phone from the vanity and shoved them into her canvas bag. She’d have to tell Dylan about this new development—after she apologized.

Then maybe he’d confide in her about his real reasons for returning to a town and a job he’d sworn off years ago. Did it have to do with the trouble he’d experienced in San Jose?

Mia popped her head in the front office and called out to Gladys. When she didn’t get an answer, she hit the bell on the counter.

Gladys peered around the door to the back. “Everything okay, Mia?”

“Everything’s fine, Gladys. Just checking in on you.”

“Seems you’re the one who needs checking up on.” Her nose twitched.

“I’m fine. What do you mean?”

“I heard about that ex-husband of yours. Why do people always make their way to Columbella House to kill themselves?”

“Good question, if that’s what happened to Peter.”

“Are you suggesting murder?” She pursed her lips. “We’ve had enough of those this summer.”

“Maybe Peter’s death was just an accident. He leaned too far over the railing, got vertigo and tumbled forward. It happens.”

Gladys nodded. “Lots of things happen. Look at my Thomas. Got drunk one night and crashed his car on the Coast Highway.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Gladys’s face sharpened. “Who was your visitor last night? Someone causing more trouble for you?”

The old gal wasn’t as wrapped up in her gossip magazines and reality TV as she let on. Seemed she had a taste for some real-life gossip, too.

Mia sighed. The whole story was going to come out anyway. Kayla didn’t seem too shy about claiming her roots.

“That was Marissa’s daughter. She tracked me down.”

Gladys’s eyes lit up. “Doesn’t surprise me a bit. Who’s the father?”

Mia wasn’t ready to out Charlie yet, not until he wanted outing. She shrugged. “Not really sure. Could’ve been someone Marissa met on that study-abroad program.”

Gladys clicked her tongue. “But that would make the girl a foreigner, and she would’ve had a harder time tracking you down from overseas.”

Nothing got by Gladys. “Who knows? Anyway, I’m out for the day. I’m meeting Linda Davis at Columbella to discuss renovation.”

Gladys snorted. “There’s one woman who probably won’t be too happy to hear about Marissa’s love child. Could be her husband’s.”

“Tyler? I don’t think so. He and Marissa were engaged after she gave birth.”

“The mayor had a crazy crush on Marissa from way back.”

“Crazy crush on her money,”

“That’s your grandparents talking.” She sniffed. “They had you girls believing that’s all anyone ever wanted from you.”

Gladys saw right through the St. Regis family dynamics. She must’ve seen and heard a lot working for the family over the years.

“Well, I have to run. Have a great day, Gladys.”

“You, too, dear, and try to stay out of trouble.”

Easier said than done.
She smiled and waved.

On her way to Columbella, she stopped at a coffeehouse and grabbed a coffee and a yogurt parfait. While driving, she alternated between spooning yogurt into her mouth and checking email messages on her phone from her assistant. News of Peter’s death had already hit the New York fashion scene.

She and Peter had been able to keep their acrimonious split out of the public domain, so at least nobody in New York would be blaming her for Peter’s death. The folks in Coral Cove, including that lieutenant, were a whole other matter.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Linda’s Mercedes parked on the street. Not that she was afraid of entering the ancestral home on her own. She’d even had the electricity turned on and there were no protestors today, so maybe they’d be able to conduct their business in peace.

She parked behind Linda’s car and approached the driver’s side. Linda, head down, appeared to be checking her own messages.

Mia tapped on the window and Linda jumped. Guess she wasn’t the only one on edge around here.

Linda buzzed down the window. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. I thought you would’ve heard my car approaching.”

Linda patted the hood of the car. “This baby’s quiet as a tomb.”

Mia clenched her teeth against the chill that rolled through her body.

“I’m sorry.” Linda jerked her thumb behind her at the yellow police tape billowing in the ocean breeze. “Poor choice of words considering your husband’s accident.”

“Ex-husband.” Mia’s response was automatic.

“Well, not really. The divorce wasn’t final. At least that’s what I heard.”

“Wow, you folks in Coral Cove are sure up on your gossip.”

“More than you know, Mia.” Linda flipped down the visor and dabbed at her lipsticked mouth. “Everyone now knows Charlie Vega fathered a child with your sister.”

Mia’s mouth dropped and she clung to the handle of the door for support. “How the heck did that come out?”

“The girl waltzed onto one of Charlie’s construction sites and announced it.”

Mia shoved her sunglasses to the top of her head and covered her eyes with one hand. “The recklessness of youth. How’d he take it?”

“You know Charlie. He took it in stride. Hustled the girl into his office and shut the door. When they both came out, there were smiles all around.”

“I can’t believe Kayla did that. The girl obviously has no self-restraint.”

“Then the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Linda reddened beneath her expertly applied makeup. “No offense, Mia, but your sister wasn’t known for her discretion.”

“No, she’s not.”

“Have you heard from her lately?”

“N-not lately. Having too much fun, I guess.”

Linda snapped the visor up and dropped the tissue into the cup holder. “Let’s go assess the damages in the house and talk renovation.”

Both wearing high heels, they picked their way over the crumbling porch steps.

Linda pointed to the cement. “Starting here, this porch could be replaced with a solid, gleaming wood. An awning above could protect it from the rain, but you’d need a heavy shellacking to protect it from the salty air.”

Mia shoved the key into the lock, and Linda put a hand on her wrist. “These doors would look fabulous with a fanlight above.”

And so it went. Linda made suggestions every step of the way throughout the house.

She’d obviously given a lot of thought to returning the house to its former glory. Her husband had probably encouraged her in the endeavor.

After they’d explored the upper floors, they paused by the basement door. Mia turned her back on the door and said, “Nothing to renovate down there.”

Linda tried the handle. “Well, you can’t very well restore the entire house and leave a dank, cluttered basement.”

She hit the door with her hip and it gave way. She flipped on the light switch. “So much easier to explore since you turned on the electricity.”

“Anyone home?” Dylan’s voice poured into the silent house from the front door.

The sound melted the ice that had been creeping over Mia’s flesh from the moment she and Linda had stopped by the basement door.

Linda murmured, “Chief Reese to the rescue again.”

“Over by the basement, Dylan.” Mia took a few steps into the hall, her gaze settling on the welcome sight of Dylan striding into the house in full uniform, gun, handcuffs, billy club and pepper spray strapped around his hips. All the accoutrement a girl could get used to.

Linda turned, leaning against the basement doorjamb. “Are you taking up residence here, Chief?”

“No. I tried calling you, Mia, but you didn’t pick up your cell phone. I knew you were meeting Linda over here.”

Mia patted her pockets. “Must’ve left my phone in the car. What’s the emergency? News about Peter?”

“Not yet. News on the other front.” His gaze shifted to Linda, and he coughed. “You know. Regarding our visitor last night.”

Mia twisted her mouth. “I already got the news from Linda. Kayla announced to the world that she’s the love child of my sister and Charlie Vega.”

Dylan’s broad shoulders slumped. “And here I thought I was delivering breaking news.”

“Apparently, there are no secrets in a small town.” Mia rolled her eyes. “We were just going to descend into the dungeon. Do you and your weapons want to join us?”

“Sure, but I don’t know what there is to renovate down there.”

Linda tsked before descending the stairs. “We can replace these stairs for one thing.” She wrinkled her nose. “Clean up, knock out some of the rotting wood along the walls.”

Mia followed her and then scooted closer to Dylan when they hit the bottom. “I suppose I could have a gigantic yard sale with all this stuff. Maybe there’s some hidden treasure here. You know, like on those shows where they tell you some cracked vase is worth a million bucks.”