Deception (17 page)

The girls were busy hanging on to each other and crying on each other’s shoulders, but the other boy in the group made a slicing motion across his neck with one finger.

“Screw it, Quinn, this is Kayla. I have to tell him everything.”

Dylan nodded. “What did you do next?”

“We went into that place, Burgers and Brews. It was crowded, packed. Looked like a lot of college kids in there.” He wiped a hand across his mouth. “So we sat down and ordered some beers.”

Dylan ground his teeth. Great. Was he going to have to cite his friend Bryan for selling to minors? “Did they serve you?”

“No. The waitress carded us and we told her we forgot our IDs. She wouldn’t serve us without it, so we were joking around and ordered Shirley Temples from the bar.”

“So you drank Shirley Temples?”

“We had a couple of rounds, just messing around, and then we ordered some nachos. Kayla didn’t eat any ’cuz she just had the pizza. She didn’t have any Shirley Temples either. Just water.”

Dylan shot a glance at the EMTs working on Kayla. They wouldn’t be working on her like that if she were already dead. He wanted to hold Mia, comfort her, but he needed to get the story from Kayla’s friends first.

The EMTs began wheeling the stretcher toward the rocks, and Mia peeled away from them and stumbled toward Dylan. “I’m going with her in the ambulance. Thank God, she’s still alive.”

“Do they know what’s wrong with her?”

Mia hugged herself. “Poison. They think it’s poison.”

The boys swore and the girls stopped crying long enough to look up with shocked faces.

The girl named Taylor said, “How could that be? Kayla didn’t even eat or drink anything at that burger place except water.”

Dylan crushed Mia against his chest. “I’ll go to the hospital later. But right now I’m going to grill these kids to find out what happened tonight.”

“Please, find out anything that can help her.” She dragged her hands through her hair. “I just found her. I can’t lose her already.”

He kissed the top of Mia’s head. “Go. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

He turned back to the kids, who were whispering among themselves. “What happened after you drank Shirley Temples at Burgers and Brews?”

A tall girl with blond hair choked. “The cookies.”

Dylan narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

The girl continued. “Kayla had a bag of cookies, homemade cookies. She’s the only one who ate them.”

A pulse twitched in Dylan’s jaw. “Where are these cookies?”

“She threw them away in a trash can on Main Street. She ate two of them, said they were pretty bad and dumped them.”

The skinny boy clutched his hair. “Can cookies go bad?”

Dylan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Where did she get the cookies?”

The kids looked at each other, and Taylor said, “We thought she got them from her aunt because she had them in her bag when she came out of the pizza place.”

“She didn’t tell you where she got them?”

“No.”

The boy who had warned the skinny one to keep quiet stepped forward. “The cookies were in a plastic bag. I think there were four of them. She ate two of them at the table when we were eating the nachos. When we got outside, I asked her for one and she tossed them in the trash and said they were gross.”

“Were you all with her before she met me and her aunt for dinner?”

Taylor said, “I think she was at her real dad’s place.”

“Can you remember where she dumped the cookies? Was it in a trash can outside of Burgers and Brews?”

The boy shrugged. “Probably.”

Dylan pointed a finger and drew a line across all of them. “Do not leave town.”

The tall blonde put her hands on her hips. “We wouldn’t leave without Kayla.”

“Her aunt’s going to want to call Kayla’s parents, too. Anyone have that number?”

Four cell phones magically appeared and Taylor got the number first. Dylan punched it into his own phone and before he left the kids, he jerked a thumb at the smoldering fire. “Make sure you put that out before you go. And you’d better all be telling the truth.”

He turned his back on their scared faces and climbed up the rocks to the road. The ambulance had to be at the hospital by now, but he had a trash can to investigate.

On his way back to town, Dylan got one terse text from Mia:
stable, not conscious.

How the hell did Kayla wind up with poisoned cookies? Had the target on Mia’s back transferred to Kayla’s?

There. He finally admitted it. Weird things had been happening to Mia ever since she got to town, starting with her brakes.

Ted, the mechanic, hadn’t come back yet with the results of Mia’s accident, and he dreaded his report. Brakes did not generally go out on rental cars. The rental companies gave those cars the once-over before renting them out again. They’d have a load of lawsuits otherwise.

But the question remained. Why? Was that hulking old house on the cliff worth anyone’s life?

He cruised along the dark, empty streets of Coral Cove. All of the restaurants were closed. Only the glow from the local watering hole illuminated a patch of sidewalk.

Dylan pulled up in front of Burgers and Brews, zeroing in on the trash can on the sidewalk.

The mayor took pride in the clean streets of Coral Cove, and the city council had ordered trash cans positioned on almost every corner of Main Street. They even had a decorative look, with pebbled cement encircling them.

He reached for his flashlight under the passenger seat and pulled it out. His long stride ate up the sidewalk.

He aimed his beam of light into the plastic trash can liner, and it played over crumpled napkins, plastic cups, used tissues and other assorted debris.

He lifted off the top of the bin and gathered the edges of the plastic bag, yanking them together. He heaved the bag over his shoulder and crossed the street, heading for the police station.

When he pushed through the door, the sergeant at the desk glanced up. “How’s that girl?”

“Stable but still unconscious.” Dylan nodded toward the other officer. “Did Greg fill you in?”

“Possible poisoning.” He pointed to the bag Dylan was swinging from his back. “What’s that?”

“Kayla dumped the cookies she’d been eating in this trash bag. Can you throw me some gloves?”

Greg wheeled his chair to another desk and grabbed a couple of plastic gloves from a box. He bunched them up and tossed them over the counter to Dylan.

“You want me to do that, Chief?”

“You already gave me the gloves, Greg. I’ll handle it.”

Dylan dragged the bag to the back of the station. He spread some newspapers on the floor and ripped the bag up one side. After snapping on the gloves he pawed through the trash. Greg shook out another plastic trash bag and scooped up Dylan’s discarded items and put them in the second bag.

“Nothing. No food items at all. Shouldn’t there at least be a few doggy bags?” He sucked in the side of his cheek, tasting blood. “Greg, is that homeless guy still hanging around Main Street?”

Greg cursed. “Yeah, he is.”

“Where does he hang out?”

“Since we started harassing him, he moves around a lot. Spends a lot of time at the beach. Sleeps there most nights, if he can get away with it.”

“We need to find him.” He sat back on his haunches and peeled off the gloves. “Get patrol on the radio and have them keep a lookout for him.”

“You mean this wasn’t some sort of accident? Why would someone want to poison that little girl, Chief?”

“I’m not sure, Greg, but I’d bet any amount of money it has something to do with Columbella House.”

After touching base with his two officers on patrol, Dylan rushed to the hospital. He found Mia in the waiting room, perched on the edge of a vinyl love seat, a half-full plastic cup of water on the table in front of her.

She jumped up at his entrance and threw herself at his chest. “I’m so scared, Dylan.”

He smoothed her hair back from her flushed face, damp with tears. She’d really taken to her niece in a short period of time.

“What did the doctors say?”

“They pumped her stomach and put in a saline IV. They stabilized her. Her breathing is more regular now and not so shallow, but she won’t wake up.” She ended on a wail.

“That sounds like good news. Those kids should’ve called 911 right away, but at least one of them had the sense to call you.”

“It’s definitely not drugs, so they were telling the truth there. Were they able to tell you any more about what Kayla had eaten and drunk?”

Dylan braced his hands on her shoulders. “Cookies.”

“Cookies?” Mia blinked. “What kind of cookies?”

“Homemade cookies. Did you notice anything at Vinnie’s? The kids said she had them when she met up with them, after her dinner with us.”

“No, but Kayla had a big bag with her. She could’ve had a four-course meal in there.”

“Just cookies.”

“Do the kids know where she got them?”

“If they did, do you think I wouldn’t be there now? They thought she got them from you.”

“Me?” Mia stepped back and stabbed herself in the chest with her thumb. “Have you known me to ever bake anything from scratch? And where would I have whipped those up at the Sea View Motel?”

“She went home with the Vegas after that altercation in the street.”

Mia laced her fingers in front of her and twisted them into knots. “Tina Vega bakes.”

“You think Tina could’ve baked up a batch of poison cookies and sent them along with her husband’s illegitimate daughter and nobody would be the wiser?”

“Nobody would be the wiser if Kayla had died.” Mia clamped a hand to her mouth as if she’d just realized Kayla’s death could still be a possibility.

“But Kayla was with friends. Surely Tina would realize Kayla would tell her friends and even share the cookies.”

“Why didn’t she?”

“Why didn’t she share the cookies? Said they were awful and dumped them in the trash.”

Mia gasped and grabbed his arm. “What trash?”

“Way ahead of you, kid. I’ve already pawed through the trash outside Burgers and Brews, which is apparently where Kayla dumped the remaining cookies.”

“And?” Her grip tightened.

“And they’re not there.”

“Could the kids have been mistaken? Maybe they’re in another trash bin. They’re not locals. Maybe they got confused.”

“Maybe. I’m having the rest of the trash bins searched.” He pulled her close again. “When Kayla wakes up, she can tell us exactly where she got those cookies.”

She whispered into his T-shirt. “Why, Dylan? Why would someone want to harm Kayla?”

“She’s an heiress now, just like you.”

She stiffened in his embrace. “You think someone tried to harm her because she’s a St. Regis heiress? She’s fairly new to the fold.”

“But very public. Because of the way she went about things, the entire town knows she’s Marissa’s daughter, your niece…Charlie’s daughter.”

“Charlie? He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Even for millions? Look at Peter. You thought you knew him, too.”

“You’re going to question them?”

“Of course. Don’t they have the most to gain from Kayla’s…?”

Mia shivered. “It could be any of those crazy people who feel so passionately about the house. Kayla might represent another obstacle to their goals for the house.”

The door to the waiting room swung open, and Dylan’s own doctor, Dr. Fitzwilliam, came through, his stethoscope dangling around his neck.

“Mia.” The doctor nodded. “Dylan.”

“Is she still okay, Dr. Fitzwilliam?” Mia looked ready to burst into tears again.

The gray-haired doctor ambled toward Mia and patted her arm. “Her prognosis is looking good. All her vitals have stabilized.”

Dylan’s pulse ticked faster. “Has she regained consciousness?”

“Not yet, but there’s no solid reason why she shouldn’t.”

Mia slumped and Dylan rushed to her side and put an arm around her shoulders. “It sounds good, Mia. She’ll be okay.”

The doctor winked. “That’s the spirit, Chief. Think positively. Nothing more for you to do here, Mia. We’ll call you if there’s a change in her condition.”

“Can I see her before I leave?”

“Sure. Talk to her, be calm, be positive.”

Mia rushed from the waiting room, and Dylan turned to Dr. Fitzwilliam. “Do you know yet what kind of poison was in her system?”

“Not yet. We’re going to run some toxicology tests and examine what we pumped out of her stomach.”

“Cookies.”

“Excuse me?”

“We think she ate tainted cookies.”

“Could be. Do you have any idea who did this?”

“Not yet, Doc, but I’m going to find him…or her.”

Dr. Fitzwilliam slapped him on the back. “I have no doubt you will. Your old man would’ve, too.”

Dylan forced his lips into a smile. ‘I can’t spare any of my officers to guard Kayla’s room. Do you have someone on this floor 24/7?”

“Don’t worry. Nobody is getting in that room.”

“Call me if there are any problems with security.” Nodding, the doctor left and Mia returned ten minutes later, her face brighter than when she’d left.

“Feel better?” He rubbed her arms from elbows to shoulders as if trying to warm her up.

A smile trembled on her lips. “She looks like Sleeping Beauty.”

“Then just like that other princess, Kayla will wake up.”

“Maybe we should send that skinny kid with the bad acne in here to deliver the awakening kiss.”

Chuckling, Dylan cupped her face. “That’s better. Keep it positive. Now I’m going to take you…home.”

“I wouldn’t call the Sea View home, but it’ll do.”

“I’m taking you to my home. You don’t need to be alone tonight, and I’m not spending another minute on the lumpy mattress at the Sea View.”

She brushed a hand across his stubble. “You didn’t seem to mind that lumpy mattress about ten hours ago.”

Glancing at his watch, he grinned. “That was just three hours ago.”

He helped Mia into his truck and slid into the driver’s seat. His phone rang at the same time he started the engine.

“What now?”

He hated the way Mia’s hands formed claws in her lap. She didn’t need any more stress tonight.