Deception (24 page)

He left his car around the corner from Columbella House. Mia had parked her car in the driveway, and Linda had left her car at the curb in front of the house for sale.

He tried the front door, and wasn’t surprised it was locked. Cupping his hands around his face, he peered into the windows, but nothing stirred amid the shrouded furniture.

If he rang the bell and made his presence known, what would Linda do? She couldn’t shoot Mia with him standing on the porch and hope to get away with it.

But he didn’t want to test his theory.

He crept around the side of the house and peeled back the plywood over the kitchen window. He unlocked the door from within and eased it open.

He stood inside, cocking his head, listening for voices. The house creaked in response. He moved on silent feet across the floor and froze.

A muffled scream came from somewhere below. The basement. He sidled along the wall until he reached the basement door. Pressing his ear against the wood, he turned the knob. The handle turned but something else barred the door—
deadbolt?

If he shot through it now, there was no telling what he’d hit on the other side. He had to get in another way—through the beach entrance.

He backed away from the door and whispered, “Hang on, Mia.”

He half slid, half ran down the trail to the beach, banging his knees on more than a few rocks on his way down. He circled around the sea cave and made his way along the cement path that led to the basement door of Columbella.

The lock had been broken for years, and he held his breath as he inched open the door. The small movement must’ve caught Mia’s eye as she sat on the bottom step of the staircase, facing him.

She was holding her arm, and her face was bleeding. Rage clawed through him as his gaze tracked to Linda, pointing a gun at Mia’s head.

Mia’s eyes seemed to lock on to his for a moment. He held a finger to his lips before her gaze flicked away. He didn’t have a clue how he was going to open the rest of this door without Linda hearing him in the silence of the basement.

And then the basement was no longer silent.

Mia screamed again and pushed over a drum kit in the corner before scrambling for the stairs. Amid the clash of cymbals and the rolling of a big bass drum, Dylan pushed through the door and crouched behind a pile of inner tubes and tires.

Linda caught Mia’s ankle and yanked her back down the stairs. “What’s the matter with you? I thought you wanted to hear what happened to Marissa. You’ll never find out if you make me kill you now.”

Mia resumed her seat on the bottom step, rubbing her knees. “I do want to find out what you did to Marissa.”

“I didn’t do anything to Marissa. Tyler killed her.”

Mia gasped, and then tears flooded her eyes. Marissa. Marissa was dead.

Linda laughed. “Yeah, I know, right? Didn’t expect that out of him. Of course, he screwed it up, as usual.

“It really was your fault, Mia. You brought that Brazilian god back here, and Marissa couldn’t resist him. I think she still planned to go through with a marriage to Tyler, though—slut. She wanted a little fun on the side, and then figured she’d settle down with Tyler and swipe this house from right under your nose.”

Mia rubbed her eyes. “Is that the reason Tyler wanted to marry her, too? To get this house?”

“This house and all the millions and power that came with the St. Regis name, but he really did love your sister—the idiot.”

“Then why did he k-kill her?”

“Why did he k-kill her? Jealousy. He caught her with the Brazilian. He’d been spying on them. He offered the man money to get out of town, and he took it. Real gem you had there, Mia.”

“If Raoul had already agreed to leave town, why did Tyler kill Marissa?”

Linda still had the gun pointed at her. Could Dylan shoot now and take her out? She didn’t want him to, not yet. She had to hear what had happened to Marissa.

“She laughed at him.” Linda wagged her finger. “Never laugh at a man, Mia, even a milquetoast like Tyler. Your sister told Tyler that she expected an open marriage. She wanted her dalliances with men like Raoul, but she and Tyler could present a united front to the town. You St. Regis women and your marriages of convenience.”

“So Tyler killed her in a jealous rage?”

“That’s right.”

“Did he throw her body into the ocean? Weigh it down?” Mia clamped her trembling hands between her knees. Could she handle this?

“No.” An evil gleam lighted Linda’s eyes. “Don’t you remember Charlie Vega had put in the cement flooring in here?”

Mia nodded, a sour lump forming in her throat.

Linda pointed to a spot on the cement floor of the basement. “She’s right there.”

Sobbing, Mia doubled over. All this time. Kylie Grant had been right. She must’ve sensed Marissa’s presence in the house.

She shuddered and jerked up her head. “That’s why you don’t want me to tear down the house. As soon as this floor is ripped up, they’ll find Marissa.”

“We wanted you to renovate. We could’ve covered up then.”

“How did you know Tyler murdered her?”

Linda clapped her hands. “I witnessed it. I used it to get him to marry me. Marissa St. Regis didn’t need the Davis name in this town, but poor little Linda Gruber from the wrong side of the tracks did.”

“You wanted to marry him after that? And protect him?”

“Whatever he had became mine, so of course I wanted to protect it.”

“But even if Marissa’s…remains were discovered, why would anyone suspect Tyler? Everyone might have suspected Raoul.”

“I told you Tyler screwed up, didn’t I?” The gun wavered for a moment and Mia shot a quick glance at Dylan, still ensconced behind the tires and inner tubes.

“I’d say he screwed up the moment he killed my sister.”

Linda snorted. “The idiot dropped his watch in the cement, the watch your sister gave him on their engagement. Pretty incriminating, wouldn’t you say?”

“So ever since I’ve been back, you’ve been trying to get me out of the way to get your hands on the house. The city would get the house and Tyler could influence its fate.”

“That’s right, Mia—the brakes on your car, the stupid doll—that was Tyler’s idea, too. He’s full of dumb ideas. And he screwed up the attack on you in the hospital parking lot. Doesn’t really have the stomach for murder anymore.”

“Peter?”

She shrugged, and the gun bobbed again. “He was threatening to sue you for the house. He would’ve held things up. You didn’t like him anyway, so I pushed him off the cliff for you. Where’s the thanks?”

Mia’s stomach twisted into knots. “And Kayla?”

“That was a surprise out of left field. Told you Marissa was a slut.”

“Did you give her those cookies?”

“Tyler and I were at that little gathering the Vegas had after their big blowout on Main Street. When your niece left the house, I ran after her with the bag of cookies, which I’d actually baked for you. Told her Tina wanted her to have them.”

“She’ll tell us that when she comes to.”

“Well, we never expected or wanted her to survive. Another Tyler screwup. He didn’t put in enough poison. One cookie should’ve been enough.”

“Two were enough for Hank.”

“Hank was the town drunk. What do you expect? Kayla was young and healthy.”

“Kayla
is
young and healthy. She’s coming out of her coma.” Mia licked her lips. She had to somehow get out of Linda’s range to give Dylan a chance to disarm her. “When she does, she’s going to explain how you ran after her with the cookies.”

Linda bit her lip and then shrugged. “I’ll figure out something. I did manage to pull off Marissa’s disappearance, and now you’re going to disappear just like your twin.”

Mia braced her hands against the step, raising herself an inch. Her triceps tensed, her eyes never leaving the barrel of the gun.

“I’m not shooting you, Mia—too much blood, too much noise. Get up.”

Linda raised the gun and Mia saw her chance. She launched herself toward Linda’s legs. Linda staggered, but dug her pink heels into the basement floor. Grabbing the gun with both hands, she brought it down toward Mia’s head.

A shot blasted out, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Linda’s grip on the gun loosened, and Mia rolled out of her range. Then Linda’s gun followed Mia’s path, and another shot cracked through the basement.

This time Linda pitched forward, her forehead smacking against the cement—right where Tyler had buried Marissa.

From the floor, Mia looked up at Dylan, his weapon still raised in front of him, his mouth a thin line, his eyes deadly.

Mia crawled away from the pool of blood oozing from the back of Linda’s head. Then she collapsed on the floor, her hands splayed against the cement that encased her sister’s remains.

Dylan swooped down and picked her up in his arms. “You’re hurt. How did she hurt you?”

Mia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, none of it matters. Marissa’s dead, has been dead for years.”

“Shh, I know.” He moved toward the stairs, punched in 911 and gave the operator the basics.

The basement door above them splintered under a heavy assault. Dylan spun around, training his gun on the intruder.

Tyler Davis cried out and stumbled down the stairs. “Linda!”

“Hold it right there, Davis.”

Tyler, his gaze focused on his dead wife, ignored the warning as he continued his descent.

Dylan kicked Linda’s gun under the stairs.

When Tyler reached the bottom of the stairs, he flung himself onto Linda’s body, sobbing and shaking. “Linda, Linda, Linda. I told you not to come here today.”

“It’s over, Davis. She confessed everything. We know that you killed Marissa St. Regis and tried to kill Mia and her niece. We know you’re responsible for Hank’s death and Peter’s.”

Tyler didn’t respond. He pulled his wife’s bloody head against his chest and smoothed her sticky hair from her forehead. “We’ll get through this, Linda. I’ll get us through this time.”

When the cops arrived, they had to pry Tyler from Linda. True devotion to the very end.

Dylan stuck by Mia’s side through the whole ruckus. When the cops had taken Tyler away and the EMTs had loaded Linda’s body into the ambulance, Mia finally closed her eyes.

“How did you know, Dylan? How did you figure out Linda was a threat?”

He pulled her close. “The pictures in Tyler’s office, all those vacation photos—from all the places in Marissa’a postcards.”

Mia shook her head. “It was all so pointless.”

“I’m sorry, Mia. I hope you can stop blaming yourself now for Marissa’s fate.”

“Linda tried to put the blame on me, but I’m not buying it. She and Tyler orchestrated this whole outrage from beginning to end. She had an opportunity to turn in Tyler after witnessing him kill my sister, but instead she chose to exploit the situation for her own gain.”

“It’s over. It’s finally over. Maybe the curse of Columbella House can finally be laid to rest.”

Mia buried her head against his chest as the sun began its descent into the ocean. “The curse didn’t start with Marissa’s murder and it’s not going to end with the discovery of her body. I’m doing the right thing by destroying this house. Maybe then the curse can be laid to rest for good.”

Epilogue

Mia held Dylan’s hand and gazed at the expanse of green grass rolling to the cliff’s edge. The roof of the gazebo sparkled in the sun, and the ocean breeze carried the sound of children’s laughter.

She sighed. “Perfect timing for the completion of the park with school ending this week.”

Michelle Girard strolled toward them, Colin Roarke’s arm encircling her waist. “Hello, Mia. The park is beautiful. Colin and I were thinking it would make a great place for a wedding.”

Mia tilted her head. “Anyone’s wedding in particular?”

Michelle’s cheeks turned pink as Colin hugged her close. Colin laughed and said, “Ours, of course.”

Michael Roarke strode up to his uncle and jutted out his lower lip. “Uncle Colin, weddings are yucky.”

Colin ruffled his hair. “We’ll try to make ours as un-yucky as possible because you’re going to have to be in it.”

Michael stuck out his tongue and tugged on Dylan’s sleeve. “Uncle Dylan, you’re not going to get married, are you? And if you do, I’m not going to be in it, am I?”

Dylan’s sister, Devon, strolled up to the group arm-in-arm with her husband and Colin’s brother, Kieran. “That’s not very nice, Michael. If Uncle Dylan wants you in his wedding, you’re going to be in his wedding.”

Michael’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you’re getting married, too?”

Kieran scooped up his son and hoisted him to his shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong with getting married? Your mom and I are married and if we weren’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

Michael scrunched up his face. “Hmm, does that mean I might get some cousins out of this? Because Luke McBain at school is always bragging about all the stupid cousins he has, and I don’t have any. Do I, Mom?”

Devon pinched her brother’s waist and winked at Colin. “Not yet.”

The engine of a Harley cut through the pleasant sounds of the afternoon, and Dylan’s friend Matt Conner cruised to a stop in the park’s small parking lot. He helped his girlfriend, Kylie Grant, off the bike, and his black motorcycle boots crunched the gravel on the winding path.

“Hey, Chief Reese, don’t you have a town to protect?”

The men gave each other a one-armed hug and Mia stood on tiptoes to kiss Matt’s cheek. She whispered, “Thanks so much for all your help.”

“Dylan did all the hard work. I’m just sorry it ended like it did.”

Kylie took Mia’s hand. “And I’m sorry my prediction came true. I struggled with telling you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Michelle touched Mia’s shoulder. “I have something for you. Hold out your hand.”

Mia held out her hand, and Michelle poured a charm bracelet into her palm. Mia hung the bracelet from her finger and dangled it in the sunshine. Tears sprang to her eyes. “It’s Marissa’s, the one you found at Columbella.”

Michelle nodded. “My mother made it for her. Actually, Colin found it in the basement of Columbella.”