“I’m so glad you’re here,” Nita said. “This whole murder thing is getting tiresome. Everyone is mad at everyone else. Even Fee is behaving strangely. If we hadn’t been instructed not to leave Eden I would already be back in New York City.”
She pouted as she poured him a drink and scooted it across the wet bar.
“Thank you, my darling,” Andrew said, then ran a fingertip from her chin to the vee between her breasts. “Did I tell you how much I love this blouse?”
She giggled as he took a sip from the salt-rimmed glass and then lifted his drink to her.
“This tastes marvelous. Kudos, my darling.”
Nita smiled. “Nothing is too good for you, because you are so good to me,” she said.
“Shall we take our drinks upstairs?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
He grabbed the pitcher in one hand and his drink in the other, and followed her out of the room.
*
The killer sat at his desk, his fingers on the keyboard, his gaze fixed on the computer screen before him. It hadn’t been quite a week since the murder on the mountain, and in that short period of time their world had imploded.
If he was honest with himself, he would admit that killing Stanton Youngblood had been the single worst mistake of his life. Looking back, it had all been so random.
*
The sky was cloudless, the breeze just enough to cool the sweat. He’d been concerned about the investors, after hearing nothing from them for days, so he’d come out to the job site to find it completely devoid of people and equipment.
And then his phone rang.
With an uneasy feeling, he answered. “Hello.”
“Hello, Bryant Booker here. I need to give you a heads-up on the lake resort. The board has decided that since we will not be able to acquire the two key pieces of real estate we needed to follow through, we’re putting the project on hold. We’ll do a flyover in the area to search for another location, but right now it’s a no-go. I’m sure you understand.”
The uneasy feeling he’d had turned to panic.
“What about the land that was our part of the investment?” he’d asked.
“Oh, that will just revert back to Wayne Industries. You haven’t lost a thing.”
Even after the call had ended, he thought he’d taken the news rather well, considering the shock running through him. This explained why the site was vacant. What pissed him off the most was that they were the last ones to find out. Even lowly workers had been told the job was scrapped before Booker notified Wayne Industries. Furious, he picked up a rock and threw it as far across the water as it would go. He was looking around for another one to throw when he caught movement from the corner of his eye.
Looking back, if the workers had still been there, he would never have seen Stanton Youngblood leaving his sister’s house, but he was alone and saw him walking confidently, that long hair swaying as he strode along the edge of the forest. In that moment he hated Youngblood all over again. When Stanton’s route took a sharp turn uphill, he guessed he was heading home to Leigh. She was part of this—part of the reason everything was over. He thought of the vast amount of man hours they’d put into accumulating the land for the resort. All the money they’d spent. Money he’d taken from other investments because he’d been sure it would be repaid. Money he’d taken without board approval. From offshore bank accounts. From the company. All to acquire land that was now useless.
He hadn’t looked at it as embezzling, because he was part of the family and he was taking it on behalf of the family, not to mention he fully intended to put it all back with interest. And now he was in big trouble, all because of that man disappearing through the trees.
Without thinking what he was going to do when he caught him, he ran for his car and drove to the lake house for one of the hunting rifles. Then he looked up at the trail behind the house, afraid he might never find where Youngblood had gone. Then he remembered the motorcycle and raced toward the garage.
Within minutes he was on his way.
*
“Sir, there’s a call for you on line four.”
The killer blinked, startled that his secretary was standing in the doorway and that he was at the office, then remembered the Sunday conference call and nodded his thanks, glancing at the clock before picking up the line.
*
Bowie couldn’t sit still.
Talia had yet to wake up again, and he needed to hear her voice and know she was going to be okay.
He’d called home earlier and relayed all the information he had on her condition, but his mother had seemed out of it, as if bothered by something else. He’d asked her if everything was okay and if Jesse was causing problems, but she had reassured him all was well, so he’d chalked it all up to this being a bad day for everyone and let it go.