Knock 'em Dead (27 page)

“We need to find the gun.”

“What gun?”

“Zack and Shaylyn were shot. So where’s the gun?”

My eyes flitted around the small cabin. No gun. “Taggert tossed it overboard before he hanged himself?”

“A stretch, but okay.” Liam raked his fingers through his hair.

“Why does it matter?”

“If he killed Paolo so he wouldn’t have to pay any more blackmail, drove over here to kill these two and himself with typed note in hand, how come he went to the bank and withdrew twenty grand?” Liam pulled a small white receipt from the dangling attorney’s front pocket. “According to the time stamp, Taggert went to the bank three days ago. Which I’m betting is about how long these three have been dead.”

“But that’s not possible. I got the creepy call from Fantasy Dates yesterday.”

“My point exactly.”

“Okay, so what do—” My cell phone chimed. The caller ID read Martin County Government. “Hello?”

“Is this Finley Tanner?”

“Yes.”

“This is Deputy Sherriff Ray Brown. I’m calling in reference to your accident.”

“Thank you for your concern. The car’s been taken to the dealership and they—”

“We just got a call from them, Ms. Tanner. Seems your accident wasn’t an accident.”

“The tire exploded,” I insisted. There was no way the dealership was going to stick me on this one.

“Technically speaking, it did. Because it was shot.”

My blood stilled in my veins. “Excuse me?” I depressed the speaker button so Liam could hear as well.

“Someone shot out your tire.”

“Kresley or Matthew?” I asked Liam as we left the boat the way we found it.

“Kresley.”

“Matthew,” I countered. “You’re forgetting Barbie Baker. I think all this started with her death. In her book, Dayle Hinman says it’s more likely for men to kill and dismember than women. The dismembering stuff is such a guy thing.”

“It is, but you’re forgetting Paolo. A guy doesn’t cut off another guy’s johnson. Except in bad wiseguy films.”

“Maybe they did it together? A Bonnie and Clyde thing. Crazy Frank did say there were two people in the car.” I checked my watch. We had just over an hour before court reconvened.

“Could have been Kresley’s security guard. Anyway, I’ll call the cops and let them know about the bodies. You need to see the sheriff in Martin County about the shooting.”

“In an hour?” I asked. “No, I’ll talk to them later. Matthew and Kresley first.”

Liam grabbed me by the shoulders. Not hard but with enough pressure to get my attention. “You are done, Finley. Someone called and threatened you. Someone shot at your car. You want to end up like those people on the boat?”

I shook my head.

“I’m going to follow you to the courthouse and you’re going to stay there. You’ll wait there where it’s safe. I’ll go find Kresley.”

“But—”

“No. This isn’t a debate. Cooperate or so help me God, I’ll take you home and tie you to a chair.”

I opened my mouth, then, reading the determined set of his jaw and the way his eyes were narrowed, I thought better of it. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

Under the watchful and annoying eyes of Liam, I went inside the courthouse only long enough to find out from Liv which wedding planner Matthew and Kresley were using. I didn’t have time to fill her in on all the details, so I just told her to call Becky and let her know Taggert was dead. If nothing else, maybe she could use that to buy some time with the judge.

I kept in the shadows of the building, checking both sides of the street for any sign of Liam. I didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d actually tie me to a chair. Nor did I doubt that Jane was destined to spend another night in jail if I didn’t do something.

Of course, I had no idea what that something was; hopefully it would come to me soon. Using the number I’d pilfered from Matthew’s personal assistant, I was happy and terrified when he answered on the third ring.

“Hello, Mr. Gibson? This is Gretchen from Wedded Bliss. I’m Daphne’s assistant.”

“Yes?”

“If you and Ms. Pierpont aren’t in the middle of anything, I have the, um, final sketches for the cake.”

“You just missed Kresley. She’s really making all these decisions, so—”

I heard the sounds of dishes, traffic, and muted conversation. A restaurant? “Gretchen said she needed the changes approved as soon as possible.”

“Drop them off at my office. I’ll make sure Kresley gets them when I see her later.”

“I’m supposed to put them directly in your hand. Gretchen’s orders. I can meet you anywhere.”
So long as it’s a public place with lots and lots of people.

“Sorry. Listen, if it’s that urgent, give Kresley a call on her cell.”

“I would but I…I just spilled coffee on your file and I rubbed the ink and smeared the number and…”
Now I’m rambling
.

“I’m happy to give it to you.”

“Thank you.”
If I can’t get to you, I’ll settle for her. For now.

“You know,” he said, hesitation suddenly evident in his voice, “I don’t think Kresley will want to be disturbed right now. She’s meeting a man about a boat.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She tried to keep it a secret but the broker called a little while ago and I happened to overhear a snippet of their conversation, so she had to tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“It’s her wedding gift to me.”

“That’s very extravagant.”

“Kresley is like that,” he said.

He sounded so…normal. Well, wimpy, but normal. “She is, is she? Generous to a fault.”

“Hummmmm.”

He sighed heavily. “Trust me, she’s nothing like she’s portrayed in the tabloids. Kresley is kind and considerate. She never gets credit for the good things she does.”

Keep talking. Maybe someone will say the name of the restaurant or I’ll get some other clue to tell me where you are.
“Hummmmmm.”

“She does a lot for others. Most of it anonymously. She goes out of her way to keep that part of her life private.”

“Really?” I inflected a tiny bit of doubt.

“Yes. Like the other day.”

“When?”

“She read an article in the newspaper about a woman and it touched her so she sent the woman flowers.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Did she use our florist, I hope?”

“No. That would have been showy. Kresley actually paid a homeless guy to—”

I cut him off. My fingers were trembling when I dialed Liam’s cell.

“McGarrity.”

The connection was horrible, a lot of static on the line. “You were right. It is Kresley.”

“Yes. I know.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re better at this than I am. You can gloat later and—”

“He won’t be gloating,” a woman interrupted. “In fact, he won’t be breathing if you don’t get here in the next fifteen minutes. Alone. No police. No discussion.”

My heart stopped. “Kresley?”

“Fourteen minutes, fifty-nine seconds.”

Click.

“Here? Where the hell is here? Think!”

I
could barely drive over the bridge. It’s difficult to see when your entire body is a shaking, sweating, heart-racing mass of fear. My best guess—and it was truly that—was to go to Kresley’s oceanfront home. It was the only “here” that made any sense. Initially I’d thought maybe Liam had talked her into meeting him at the marina in Juno Beach, but if that were true, Kresley would know I was more than fifteen minutes away.

Or Kresley couldn’t count and Liam’s death would be on my conscience for all eternity. There was something really wrong about all this. He was the one with the gun. I’d dumped the contents of my purse during the short drive even though I knew I didn’t have anything remotely weaponlike. Unless I could magically subdue Kresley by overlining her lips.

Probably not.

I drove around the block once, relieved and terrified when I spied Liam’s Mustang in Kresley’s driveway.

On the third pass, when I was about fifty yards from her address, I eased the Mercedes off on the shoulder. Every intelligent cell in my body was begging me to call the police. Someone. Anyone who might be able to help. Except that I couldn’t risk getting Liam killed.

I have no idea why, but I shoved every useless thing back in my purse before I circled back to the delivery gate belonging to the house adjacent to Kresley’s. I still had roughly seven minutes to come up with a plan. For now? I was winging it.

The first obstacle was to fit my body through the small space between the gate and the hedge. I managed that without much trouble, though I did catch my skirt on a branch and heard the fabric rip. Amazing that the sound registered, given that my heart was drumming in my ears.

I followed the hedge around to the back of the house, then down to where the tall sea grass met the sand. If Kresley was watching the beach, I was screwed and Liam was dead. The wispy grass provided little cover but it was the best I could do.

Kresley’s soft pink house was two stories. Unfortunately for me, the first floor was mostly glass. Not exactly conducive for sneaking up undetected.

My heels were getting swallowed by the sand, so I simply abandoned them and pressed forward. The sun was burning my skin and it cast a bright reflection off the calm surface of the ocean. There was a large pool in the back surrounded by several tables and comfy-looking chaises. My heart palpitations got worse the closer I got to the house.

There was an umbrella in the center of one table, but unless jousting had come back into favor when I wasn’t looking, no help there. I was out of options and almost out of time.

Going to the first set of sliding glass doors, I squinted and looked inside. It was an empty bedroom. Taking a deep breath, I yanked the handle and felt the door give. Fear amplified even the smallest noise. To me, it sounded more like I was opening a boxcar than a door.

Cool air rushed out as I rushed in. I had no way of knowing if Kresley had the kind of alarm system that beeped whenever a door opened. Or if she was on the other side of the door. Or if Liam was okay.

I still didn’t have a plan. Hell, I barely had control over my bladder. Hoisting my purse higher on my shoulder, I soundlessly went to the closed door and pressed my ear against the cool wood. I didn’t hear anything, so I slowly and carefully opened the door a crack and listened.

I could hear Liam’s voice. Then Kresley’s. It was clear but hard to locate the source given the acoustics of the two-story great room. My best estimation was that the voices were coming from the front of the house.

Moving toward the sound of the voices, I kept my back pressed against the wall.

“…like she isn’t coming.”

“Told you,” Liam replied. “We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kresley said. “I found her earlier today. I can find her again.”

“What are you going to do, Kresley? Kill everyone in Palm Beach County?”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

There was a small, well,
smaller
room just past the kitchen. I was almost positive that was where Kresley was holding Liam. Just to be sure, I crept close and used the highly polished wood floor as a mirror. Two of them. Liam was seated, Kresley was pacing.

With incredible care, I reached into my purse and sent a quick, pointed text message to Becky:

“Whose fault was it?” Liam asked.

“Paolo. If he hadn’t killed that Baker woman, none of this would have happened.”

“Really?”

“He took it too far. She was into autoerotic asphyxiation.”

“If Paolo killed her, how did you get involved?”

“I was there.”

If Kresley was there while Barbie Baker was doing the nasty with Paolo, then it held to reason that she was the one who’d taped Payton.

“You could have turned him in,” Liam said.

“And risk everything?” Kresley scoffed. “I used to be worried that Matthew would find out I was into voyeurism. Can you imagine how he’d feel if he knew about the murder? My trust fund is stretched a little thin. Marrying Matthew solves that issue for the rest of my life. I wasn’t about to blow it by letting him find out that I was the one supplying Paolo with GHB just so I could watch him and whomever he happened to be screwing that day. It wouldn’t go over well.”

“Probably not.” Liam’s voice was unbelievably calm and matter-of-fact considering his situation. Fine. I was scared spitless enough for both of us.

“It was Paolo’s brilliant idea to blackmail people with the DVDs.”

“Zack and Shaylyn didn’t know?”

“I think they suspected, but they were hardly in a position to do anything about it. I mean, they were arranging group sex for Renee Sabato. Jace Andrews has to dress like his mother just to get it up. Payton’s into some seriously kinky stuff. Hadley has a thing for being tied up, and Taggert, he was the worst.”

“You lost me. Taggert was part of this?”

“Why do you think Zack and Shaylyn had him defend that woman? They were terrified any investigation might uncover their slimy pimping. Then I gave him a little…incentive.”

“What was Taggert into?”

“Men, preferably boys.”

“And your incentive?”

“I made a tape of him with Paolo. I thought he’d lose it when I showed it to him.”

“I’ll bet he did. So you offered to sell him the DVD?”

“I needed some way to lure him to the boat.” Kresley sighed. “Sorry about this, Liam, but your time is up. I have to look out for myself. Try not to take it personally. Get up.”

Oh, crap. Nowhere to hide.

“Where are we going?”

I heard a chair scrape against the floor.
Shitshitshit.
I looked around frantically for a place to hide. My heartbeat was threatening to choke me. I felt as large and conspicuous as a flamingo on the frozen tundra. In two seconds she was going to walk right into me.

“Bathroom. It cuts down on the mess.”

They were coming closer.

“Practical.”

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

I knew Liam saw me pressed against the wall, but to his credit, he didn’t so much as flinch. His hands were bound in front of him and the sunlight glinted off the barrel of the gun pressed between his shoulder blades.

Luckily for me, Kresley had her arms extended and her elbows locked. So, when I leapt forward and shoved her up and away from Liam, her head hit the door frame. Unfortunately, she managed to get off a shot before I landed on top of her.

I was rendered deaf by the noise and nauseated by the smell and taste of gunpowder. I was also unrelenting as I pummeled her with my purse.

It wasn’t until I saw Liam’s foot crunch down on her wrist that I realized she still had the gun in her hand. Back arched, I skittered away on my hands and feet, kinda like a crab moving along the sand.

I backed into something hard, looked up, and shrieked when I saw another gun. A very large one.

“To good friends,” Becky said, raising her wineglass in one hand and hugging Jane with the other.

Liv and I leaned forward and joined in the celebratory clinking of the glasses.

“This has not been the best week of your life,” I said as I pushed my nearly clean plate nearer the center of the table.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you,” Jane said for the fiftieth time since we’d met for a late Sunday lunch. She looked at me and smiled. “Even
I
was starting to think I’d killed Paolo.”

“Thankfully, it’s over,” I added, absently rubbing my sore shoulder.

“Did you give your mother her check back?” Liv asked.

I nodded. Everyone was in such a good mood that I didn’t want to spoil it by mentioning that due in large part to my abrupt departure from Willoughby Country Club, she fully expected me to pay her the interest on the money I didn’t use for five days.

Becky grinned, then said, “I hear Kresley is throwing her bling-encrusted self on the mercy of the court. Her family is lining up a gaggle of shrinks who’ll swear she was suffering from some sort of mental disease or defect causing her to kill four people.”

“And almost two more,” Liv added. “Don’t forget Liam and our own resident ass-kicker, Finley.”

“Did you seriously kick a SWAT guy in the balls?” Jane asked.

“I didn’t know he was a SWAT guy,” I defended. “All I saw was the gun. It was an honest mistake.”

“Did his cheeks puff out and did he turn all green?” Liv asked. “Men are such wusses when it comes to their genitalia.”

“Let’s just drop it,” I said, letting my fingertips touch the bandage on my forehead. “I hate to break this up, but I’ve got some, well, breaking up to do.”

“Can we come watch?” Becky asked, a wicked glint in her eyes.

“No. Trust me, it isn’t going to take that long.”

On the way home, I was trying to get used to the rental car and wondering how long I could afford it. Apparently the insurance company doesn’t have a code to use if a leased vehicle is totaled during an attempted homicide, so for now, I’m footing the bill. Which in turn meant I couldn’t buy myself a congratulatory Rolex part, nor bid on the really, really cute Betsey Johnson dress PilotWife had offered to sell me. Okay, I probably could have done the deal with PilotWife, only that was another thing Patrick had ruined for me. I couldn’t stand the idea of wearing something once owned—even at a great price—by the wife of a pilot.

I pulled the stripped-down sedan into the parking lot, miscalculated the sensitivity of the brakes, and rammed the front tires into the cement thing bolted into the blacktop. My head snapped back against the barely adjustable seat with a dull thud. “Ouch,” I grumbled as I tossed off the seat belt.

I’d planned it so I’d have enough time to touch up my makeup. There’s nothing more empowering than dumping a guy when you look your best. Learned that from my you-still-owe-the-interest mother.

I was about to put my key in the door when I heard the rumble of a tank. Turning around, I shielded my eyes and watched wide-eyed as Victor Dane maneuver his H3 Hummer into the lot. He parked—in two spaces.

As he got out and walked to me, she said, “Finley, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”
Unemployed, but fine.

“Can we step inside?”

“My apartment?” I asked. Not a strange question seeing as he’d never set foot in the place during my seven years at Dane-Lieberman.

He flashed his veneered smile and I just shrugged. It wasn’t like he could hurt me. I don’t think a person can be refired.

Once we were inside, the smell of his cologne filled the small foyer. He stayed near the door while I dropped my purse on the countertop. He stood there in three or four thousand dollars of casual wear curiously eyeing the two white garbage bags I had propped against the wall.

“Would you like some water?” I asked politely. What the hell was he doing here?

“No, I came by to offer you your job back.”

Color me stunned. I met his level gaze with suspicion. Vain Dane did nothing out of the goodness of his atrophied heart. “Why?”

“The decision to let you go was…premature. A knee-jerk reaction, if you will.”

“Ellen threatened to fire me three times, then she did. What part of that was knee-jerk?”

A faint red stain started creeping up his recently shaved neck. If it wasn’t illegal, actionable, and really bad form, I think Vain Dane would have hit me. I saw that little vein at his temple throbbing, so I knew he was pissed. Only with me as a former employee, it wasn’t my problem.

“Finley, I’m asking you to return. You’re a valuable asset to the firm.”

Crossing one foot over the other at the ankles, I rested my good shoulder against the wall. “When did that happen?”

“What?”

“When did I get so valuable?”

“You’re bright and articulate. That makes you an asset.”

My mind was racing. “Matthew Gibson?”

Vain Dane wore his guilt on his sleeve. “Yes, the Gibson family has been in contact with me. As have Renee Sabato and Jace Andrews.”

Ah. I had a lightbulb moment. This was priceless. “They don’t want their perversions aired in public?”

He shrugged. “You are, of course, free to speak to anyone you wish. I’m sure the press has been hounding you.”

“A little.” What the annoying reporters didn’t know was that with my mother as a, well, mother, I could dodge unwanted calls without working up a sweat.

“However, if you were to return to your job, the Cannon of Ethics would prevent you from discussing our clients with the press.”

Brilliant tactical maneuver. Really brilliant. “So, I get my job back and you get several new high-profile clients?”

He nodded. “They all indicated they’d be open to moving some of their business to Dane-Lieberman if you were with the firm. In light of that, I’ve decided the best thing for everyone would be for you to return to work.”

No wonder people think lawyers are smarmy. Okay, maybe not
all
lawyers. Becky was one of the good guys.