The Curse of the Holy Pail #2 (36 page)

"Barely."

I could have sworn I saw relief on his face.

"Tell me, Stella, when you left for Ojai, didn't you find it odd that Karla's Lexus was in the garage?"

"Her Lexus?"

"Yes, her Lexus. You would have seen it when you backed your car out of the garage. Kyle's Jeep was in the driveway. Karla's car was in the garage"

"What are you suggesting, Odelia?" asked Stella. Her sobbing suddenly halted, like a spigot turned off with a quick jerk of a wrist. She stood up straight, away from the railing.

"I don't think Kyle killed Jackson or tried to kill his sister. I think you did it."

Steele rose unsteadily to his feet. "Careful, Grey," he warned again.

Steele was right. I was on shaky ground and needed to be careful about my course.

"Me?" Stella asked in surprise. "Why would I kill them? Or try to kill them?"

"Because, unlike the other men you've manipulated, you fell in love with Jackson. And he did come over Friday night. But when you told him that you finally found the Holy Pail, he backed out on your plan to go away together, didn't he? So you killed him."

"You're out of your mind," she said, her mouth open in disbelief.

"Am I? You told me Friday that Jackson wouldn't go away with you unless you had the Holy Pail or the money from it. Friday night, when Amy called you to say she had the box, you called Jackson to let him know. He came over, not to celebrate, but to tell you it was over, that he decided to stay with Karla. After all, she was now in charge of her father's company. Why would he leave when things were looking up for them?"

I shot a quick glance at Kyle to measure his agitation. It was gaining momentum like a brewing storm.

"How'd you do it, Stella?" I continued. "Did you convince him to have one last roll in the hay, then caught him off guard in the afterglow?"

"No, you have it all wrong," Kyle shouted at me. "It was selfdefense. She tried to break it off with him, but he got angry and starting beating her."

Looking at Kyle, I realized Stella was right about one thing-he wasn't too bright.

"Is that what she told you, Kyle?" I asked. He said nothing.

"And Karla? What about her?" Steele chimed in.

I looked at the two of them. On the outside, Stella seemed in control, but her eyes darted about nervously. Kyle was fidgeting noticeably. His thin arms twitched, especially the one with the gun. I put my money on Stella doing the cutting on Karla.

"I told you what happened," Kyle said, trying to sound like a tough guy.

"Karla did come by looking for her husband, that much is probably true," I said, keeping my eyes on both of them. "And she probably did scream when she caught sight of Jackson through the French doors. But your sister wasn't attacked in the utility room, Kyle. She was stabbed in the kitchen, near the family room, next to the phone. She was probably calling for help."

I turned to Stella. "Isn't that right, Stella?"

Stella looked at me with steely hatred before turning to Kyle. For his benefit, she turned on the waterworks again. She was going for an Oscar.

"You've got it all wrong," Kyle said to me. He looked at Steele for support. "She's wrong. Stella killed Jackson in self-defense. He fell into the pool. He was already dead when I got there. There was nothing we could do. Stella was beside herself."

"And Karla?" Steele asked.

"Shut up, Kyle!" Stella demanded. "Don't tell them anything. They just want to hurt us-to hurt me." She started crying again.

"Karla was an accident," Kyle tried to explain, his gun hand wavering slightly. "Wasn't she, Stella?"

Stella was livid. She watched her control over Kyle disintegrate and felt the noose close around her neck. I was thrilled she didn't have the gun.

"Karla was calling the police," Kyle continued. "Stella just tried to scare her, to give us time to get away. But Karla went after her and got cut in the struggle."

Cut in the struggle? Karla Blake came to mind as I last saw her, laying in a pool of blood with multiple stab wounds. An accident that happened over and over?

"So why didn't you call the police?" Steele asked with great interest.

"We needed to sort things out," Kyle said as if the answer was obvious. "We didn't think anyone would find them while we were gone.

"You stupid bastard!" Stella screamed as she lunged for Kyle.

Steele leapt to his feet as Stella moved in. "Run, Grey," he shouted.

Instead, I stood transfixed as Stella's hands and nails reached for Kyle's face and found their mark. He raised the hand with the gun and struck her hard across the face. She fell in a clump at his feet, like a bag of dirty laundry. Blood gushed from her nose.

Steele threw the flashlight at Kyle, then made a run at him. With his good shoulder down, he tackled him hard. They hit the railing together and fell to the ground. The gun fired. The bullet hit the building behind me just a few feet from my head. I almost collapsed from fright.

The two men struggled, but Steele was no match with his injured arm. They rolled around until Kyle was on top, pinning Steele to the earth. Steele's hands clutched Kyle's gun hand, forcing it away, but I could tell he was losing strength.

Running into the melee, I raised the Holy Pail and started bashing Kyle's blond head with it. He howled in pain, but still struggled as if possessed. On the last blow, he dropped the gun and fell on top of Steele, not unconscious but dazed enough to render him temporarily helpless.

As Kyle clutched his head and moaned deeply, I rolled him off Steele and helped the wounded attorney to his feet. Blood trickled from his mouth and he struggled to walk. His broken arm hung limp and heavy in its cast.

Quickly retrieving the lunchbox from where I dropped it, I threw Steele's good arm around my shoulders and force-marched him out of the arena area and through the alley. We had to get to the ranger's station for help. With any luck, someone heard the gunshot and was already on their way to investigate. Steele moaned as we moved, and I realized he couldn't make the trip in his condition, at least not quickly. If the park rangers weren't on their way, Stella and Kyle would catch us before we got too far. The town was still deserted.

"Quick," I whispered to Steele. "Before they come."

Steele gathered his resources and moved as quickly as he could, but I could see from his ashen face he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. He'd lost his Lakers cap in the fracas and his previous head wound was seeping blood, matting his dark hair at the back of his head. I'd have to stash Steele and go for help alone.

I half carried, half dragged Steele to the other side of the road. Facing us was a small, shabby building. Between it and the blacksmith shop was a wide area with tufts of scrub grass and a few trees. The area ran between the stables and the backs of the buildings in the first part of the town. We ducked into the area. Looking quickly around, I spotted a wooden wagon partially hidden under a large tree and steered Steele toward it. The wagon was open, but it was deep enough to hide him if he kept his head down.

"Hurry," I whispered as I helped him up into the wagon. "Get in here and stay down. And be quiet. I'll go get help."

As soon as Steele was safely hidden, I moved between two of the buildings and peeked around the corner to see if Stella and Kyle were coming. They weren't. Everything was still and quiet. Maybe they left the town by another way. Maybe they were hik ing out through the vegetation that bordered the riding arena. But maybe they weren't. Maybe they were hiding in the dusky shadows of the alley, waiting for me to offer myself up as a big, fat target.

I tiptoed back to the wagon and did a quick check on Steele. He was out cold. Keeping close to the backs of the buildings bordering the scrub area, I started quickly making my way toward the meadow and the main road. Once there, I would make a run for the bridge and the ranger station.

Just as I was about to break out into the open, I took a last look around for Stella and Kyle. Immediately, I took cover again back behind one of the buildings. Someone was coming. But it wasn't Stella and Kyle, and it wasn't the park ranger either.

Two men were walking slowly up the road from the direction of the bridge. If I didn't move, they would see me when they made the turn into the town. I crept quietly back to the wagon and hid as best I could behind it. It was getting late and the growing shadows gave me good coverage while I decided what to do.

After a minute or two, I moved from my hiding place. One side of the small, rundown building faced the back of the hotel. The area between them was very small, barely the width of my shoulders. There was a door in the back of the hotel. But like the others Steele and I had tried, it was locked. I turned sideways and hugged the boards of the hotel as I slowly made my way toward the end of the building. Once there, I scrunched down until I was almost ground level and peeked out to where the road forked in front of the terra-cotta building. From here, I could see the entire intersection.

I waited and watched.

TWENTY-NINE

THE NEW ARRIVALS WERE none other than Willie and Enrique. Both had guns drawn but kept them close to their bodies. They stopped in the crossroads and looked around. They couldn't have been more than twenty feet away.

I almost came out of hiding until I noticed that Willie was holding a cloth bag in one hand. I recognized it as one of my pillowcases. The bag wiggled and squirmed and emitted familiar low animal moans.

My heart sang at the realization that Seamus was alive and well, yet sank at the knowledge that it was Willie and Enrique who trashed my place and took Seamus. I didn't want to believe it, but there it was-the proof wiggling in a cotton sack.

Holding the battered lunchbox in one hand, I wondered if I should go out and make the exchange. The box was truly damaged now. The dent left by the Wheeler assault was nothing in comparison with the damage I had done to it. Would Willie still want it? Was he telling the truth about wanting to see it destroyed? If so, it was well on its way.

Just as I was about to make myself known, a commotion came from the alley across the road, the one that led to the arena. Willie and Enrique each took cover between nearby buildings, weapons ready. Shortly, Stella emerged from the alley with Kyle close on her heels.

"You let them get away, you moron," Stella snapped at Kyle over her shoulder. She was wearing a long, loose blouse and was wiping her bloody nose with the hem of her shirt. In her other hand she held Kyle's gun.

Damn. I should have picked up the gun.

"You go around that way and I'll take the main road," she ordered. "Find them."

While Kyle took off toward the depot, Stella started slowly moving down the main road, her back to Willie and Enrique.

With great stealth, Willie came out of his hiding place. He put the pillowcase down against a wall and moved into the open.

"So we meet again, Stella," Willie said. His voice was light, even playful.

Stella was almost, but not quite, out of my field of vision. I saw just a sliver of her spin around, but her shriek was clear enough. Stella and Willie had their guns drawn on each other.

"It can't be you," she said. "You're dead."

"Yes, my dear, I am dead," he told her. I could see that Willie was smiling. "And I see you are up to your old tricks again. Time to put a stop to them, don't you agree?"

Just as Stella was about to say something, she let out another shriek. She spun around again and backed up just in time for me to see Enrique sneak up behind her and kick the gun out of her hand. In a flash, he had her on her back with his gun to her head. She squirmed and bellowed. I knew how she felt.

Willie motioned to Enrique. He unpinned her and got to his feet, leaving her to fend for herself.

Stella sat up in the dirt road sputtering, her nose swollen and bloodied from earlier, and looked up at Willie. She blinked through her disheveled hair and pushed it away from her eyes with one hand. As though she'd seen a ghost, she began scooting away from Willie like a crab doing the backstroke.

I heard running.

"Hey," I heard Kyle yell. "Leave her alone."

Willie pointed his gun in Kyle's direction. Enrique moved closer to Stella and aimed his gun at her head.

I felt like I was watching a scary movie from the front row of an IMAX theater.

"Okay, sport," Willie said to Kyle. "I want you to walk slowly over to your girlfriend and take a seat in the dirt next to her."

I watched as Kyle entered my field of vision and did what he was told.

"What are you doing here?" Stella asked Willie, her words half hidden in a mucus squeak of fright.

"The same as you. Following the trail of the pail." Willie chuckled at his tired joke. "Knowing it would eventually lead to you."

Stella cowered closer to the dirt, desperately trying to find a hole to fall into.

The pillowcase squirmed and yowled. Willie walked over to retrieve it while Enrique continued to cover Stella and Kyle. Hold ing it up, he said something in a low voice to Seamus that I didn't hear.