Sealed with a Kill (23 page)

The head spun around and she found herself looking at Paula Marchesi.

“I know that’s not helpful,” Dom continued. “But there is some hope. Lynette had a child, a daughter named Paula.”

Brenna opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. Paula gave her a lopsided smile and stepped into the cabin. She picked up the phone and snapped it shut.

“Did I hear him say ‘Paula’?” she asked. “So, I gather you just found out all about little old me, didn’t you?”

Shock left Brenna incapable of forming an answer. She stared stupidly at the young woman before her while Paula paced around the small cabin.

“I was planning on leaving town tonight,” Paula said. “My work here was done, but no, you had to go and start digging. What was it you said? ‘If we can answer some questions about the past, we’ll be able to resolve the present’? Yeah, well, that sort of changed my plans.”

“I’m not following you,” Brenna said.

“Yes, you are,” Paula said, and she pulled a small lethallooking handgun out of her coat pocket.

“Easy,” Brenna said. A whoosh of blood roared into her ears, making her own heartbeat echo in her head.

She looked Paula over. She was shorter than Brenna. She was also younger and probably faster. Could Brenna take her?

“I’ll shoot you before you get a hand on me,” Paula said. “I’m trained in firearms, and as you know from my previous work, I’m not afraid to use them.”

“Previous work?” Brenna asked.

“Don’t play dumb. Put on some shoes and let’s go,” Paula said. “Nice dress, by the way. Too bad the landlord lover will never get to see it.”

Brenna’s hands were shaking, and she grabbed the first pair of shoes she could find, her hiking boots by the back door. She also grabbed her coat.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” Paula said.

Brenna’s phone began to ring. She was sure it was Dom calling back; if she could just grab it and cry for help, she might get out of this.

Paula took it and shoved it in a drawer, muting its ringtone. Brenna noticed she was wearing gloves. This did nothing to calm her galloping heart.

“Out.” Paula gestured with the gun toward the door.

Brenna glanced at the clock. It was twenty minutes until her date. If she could just stall, maybe Nate would see them. She fumbled with the doorknob and got a painful shove in her right shoulder blade.

“I am well aware of the time,” Paula said. “Now move.”

She pushed Brenna past Siobhan’s cabin—no lights were on inside—and onto the trail that led into the woods. It was dark, and Brenna had to pick her way in the gloom on the uneven ground over unearthed roots and deep pockets made by puddles. She could hear Paula breathing heavily behind her, and as the trees enveloped them in their twilight embrace, she was sure she had never heard a more terrifying sound.

After two years of hiking here, Brenna knew these woods well. She figured they were about a half mile out when Paula told her to stop.

A lesser-used trail, barely visible in the darkness, veered off to the right, and Paula pushed Brenna onto it, as if using her as a shield against the twiggy branches that jutted out, scratching her face and tearing her stockings.

They reached a clearing where a silver compact car was parked. Brenna hoped they had stumbled upon a couple in the midst of a tryst, anything to stop this madness. But no, Paula shoved her against the car and then unlocked it and yanked open the back door.

Out fell Siobhan with her hands and feet bound by rope and a wide strip of tape over her mouth. Brenna glanced from her to Paula and back.

Paula laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was a creepy chortle that made the hair on the nape of Brenna’s neck twitch in alarm.

“You thought she was the killer, didn’t you?” Paula asked. She reached down and hauled Siobhan to her feet.

Even in the dark, Brenna could see the pallor of Siobhan’s skin, giving her a ghostly appearance. She glanced over her body, trying to see if she was hurt. She couldn’t see any visible signs of injury, but her brown bob looked lank and stringy, and her jeans and white blouse were wrinkled and grubby.

“You’re not the only one who snoops too much,” Paula said. She bent down, and using a knife she’d taken from her coat pocket, she cut the rope off of Siobhan’s ankles. “This one has been trying to be my friend for days. As if. With my upbringing, I can smell a pencil-pushing bureaucrat at ten yards.”

“I don’t understand,” Brenna said, although she was afraid she did.

Paula ripped the tape off of Siobhan’s mouth and said, “Explain it to her. I’d love to hear your take.”

Siobhan gasped for breath. She inhaled the cold night air as if her lungs had been denied a deep breath for far too long.

She sagged a little and then looked at Brenna with eyes that were full of regret. “She killed Harvey Lester.”

Brenna looked at Paula and asked, “Why?”

“Tell her,” Paula ordered.

Siobhan licked her lips as if trying to give herself a moment. “As far as I have been able to determine, she and Mr. Lester planned to run away together, but he backed out at the last moment, so she killed him.”

“Ms. Dwyer, here, is not the artist she pretends to be,” Paula said.

“I know,” Brenna said.

“Oh, really?” Paula asked. “How did you figure that out?”

Brenna could have bitten her tongue in half. If she stood any chance of getting out of this, she needed to keep her wits about her and her mouth shut.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Paula said. Her voice was patronizing in its encouragement, like a teacher who flatters a student into admitting to bad behavior.

“The hatching marks on the work in her cabin are those of a left-handed artist, and she is right-handed,” she said.

Siobhan’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “I knew you were in my cabin.”

“Sorry,” Brenna said. “You left the door unlocked.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that you can come in uninvited,” she said.

Paula glanced between them. Brenna could see by the manic light in her eye that she was enjoying their tiff. She wondered if that might be the ticket to get them out of this.

“Listen, if you would stick to one man and not try to latch onto every man that comes within reach, maybe other women would trust you a little bit more.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Siobhan snapped, looking offended.

“You’ve been trying to get your hooks into Nate all week,” Brenna said. “Do you think I didn’t notice?”

“Ooh, this is getting good,” Paula said and turned to look at Siobhan.

Brenna took the opportunity to give Siobhan a wide-eyed stare over Paula’s shoulder, hoping that she would catch on to her plan.

Siobhan’s eyes narrowed and she growled, “Look, it’s not my fault if you can’t get Nate interested in you. You couldn’t get Brian interested in you, either, and I know you tried.”

Brenna sucked in a gasp of hurt, which was not all for show, and Paula looked at her with amused eyes and said, “She fights mean.”

Siobhan widened her eyes at Brenna, letting her know she was following along.

“How do you know Brian wasn’t interested?” Brenna challenged, taking a step closer to Siobhan.

“Because he told me so,” she retorted, taking a step closer, too.

“Oh, yeah?” Brenna asked. This was her chance.

Siobhan was standing within striking range. If she pretended to punch Siobhan, she could hit Paula instead, and they might be able to take her.

She balled up her fist but as she went to swing, something plowed into the backs of her knees and she went down with a thump on the hard, cold ground.

Paula leaned over Brenna and
tsk
ed. “Temper, temper.”

Keeping her gun trained on the two of them, Paula reached into the car and pulled out a length of rope. Yanking Brenna up by the elbow, she tied her wrists behind her back just like Siobhan’s. Brenna felt her stomach drop. She had no idea how they were going to get out of this now.

“Much as I’ve enjoyed this little show,” she said, “we need to get going. I have a plane to catch.”

“Plane?” Brenna asked.

“Yep,” she said. “I’ve gotten all that I need from here and I’m good to go.”

“Where are you going?” Siobhan asked.

“Yes, I’m sure the FBI would love to know where I’m headed, but I’m not about to tell you.”

“You’re FBI?” Brenna asked.

“And so is her boyfriend, Brian,” Paula said. “He’s the last item on my agenda.”

“He doesn’t know anything,” Siobhan said quickly. “I never got a chance to tell him what I discovered.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Paula said. “I still have to kill him, of course.”

“Please don’t,” Siobhan said.

Brenna saw the pleading look on her face and felt badly for all of the not-so-nice things she’d thought about her. The fact that she was a federal agent did explain her incredible lack of people skills. Brenna imagined that in Siobhan’s world, everyone was guilty until proven innocent.

“Oh, how touching—you’re in love with your partner,” Paula said. She shoved them toward the woods. Obviously, they were going to be taking a hike from which they wouldn’t be coming back. “Too bad, so sad.”

“You stole Tenley’s ring,” Brenna said.

She wasn’t sure why she brought it up, but it just clicked in her brain, and it seemed like a good idea to keep Paula talking and distracted.

“You mean I took what should have been mine,” Paula said. Her voice was brittle with bitterness. “I grew up in a crappy apartment with a drunk. There were no fancy houses or cars, servants, or prestigious schools for me. The very least I deserved was a family heirloom, don’t you think?”

“Her father gave her that ring,” Brenna said. “It meant the world to her.”

“Our
father gave her that ring. It should have been mine. All of it should have been mine. Instead, I was sent off to live in poverty with a woman who drank all day and puked all night, and when she got really bad, the caseworkers came and took me away, so I could go live in neglect and squalor elsewhere, but in a few months I was always returned. Did my father ever check on me? Did my father care about what happened to me? No. Rupert Morse couldn’t let his perfect life be tarnished by the likes of me.”

“I’m sure he cared,” Brenna protested.

Paula gave a bark of laughter that cut through the night with a serrated edge. “Please, don’t bother.”

“If you kill us while Morse is in jail, they’ll know he didn’t kill Lester and he’ll be let out,” Siobhan said. “Then you won’t have your precious revenge.”

“That’s only if they find your bodies,” Paula said. “But I’m very confident that they won’t.”

Brenna’s teeth began to chatter and it wasn’t from the cold. They traipsed through the woods, Brenna and Siobhan moving more slowly than normal. Perhaps it was an unconscious way to stall their impending deaths, or maybe it was just a lot harder to keep your balance with your hands behind your back.

Brenna wondered what Nate would do when she wasn’t at the cabin. Would he think he’d been stood up? And what about Dom? Would he think her cell phone cut out or that she hung up on him?

She glanced at Siobhan. She could just make out her profile in the gloom. Was she thinking about Brian?

“So, you’re FBI,” Brenna said. “What brought you here?”

“Suspected money laundering,” Siobhan said. “Huge sums of money were being passed through Lester and Morse to a bank account in New York. We were following the money. Brian got a job working there, and I came to town to see if I could cozy up to Lester.”

“That’s my bank account,” Paula said. She stepped a little closer and leaned in. “I had Harvey socking away money for me.”

“You made an error,” Siobhan said. “Anything over ten thousand dollars in cash, and the banks are required to report it. The feds can freeze your account in a heartbeat, and if I go missing, they probably will.”