Authors: Heather Webber
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths
I’d been sure finding Kira’s car would answer some questions, but it had proven only to elicit more of them.
Why had her car crashed? Who’d crashed it? Where was Kira?
The tires of my car splashed through rivulets of rain water that snaked down Dovie’s driveway. As I crested the hill at the top of the drive, I glanced at Dovie’s house, so stately yet welcoming, and wondered how I was going to explain everything to her.
There was going to be hell to pay. Guilt tugged at my conscience, but I knew Dovie, and I knew Preston. It was best they didn’t know, I reminded myself, and tried to believe it.
At the top of the drive, I turned to the right, my gaze focused on my cottage. I tried to picture it after a renovation and couldn’t even conjure an image in my head. Taking a breath, I told myself I’d get used to it. I’d adjust. I’d—
“Lucy, look out!” Aiden shouted.
I jammed on my brakes and jerked backward as my seatbelt tightened. A man dressed in black slid across the hood of my car. Three security ninjas, hot on his heels, gave pursuit.
“What the hell?” Aiden asked, his mouth agape.
I watched as the man in black zig-zagged across the property. At one point, his hood slipped off, and I recognized the buzz cut.
“It’s Corey McDaniel.”
Aiden threw open the door, pulled his gun from his holster, and ran into the fray.
I noticed the front door of my cottage open, a brown and white blur came racing out. Scout. Thoreau, I noticed, followed the bigger dog, yapping his head off the whole way. The front door slammed closed again, and I could easily picture Sean going for his gun to protect Ava.
I sat there, behind the wheel of my car, unsure what to do. I couldn’t very well give chase. Not with this clunky boot.
Corey veered off, heading for the bluff, and I suddenly wondered if this wasn’t his first time on the property. The security team had thwarted an intruder the other night—one who’d jumped into the ocean to escape. Had that been Corey?
Scout dashed ahead of Corey, blocking him from making a leap. Teeth bared, he snarled, and Thoreau nipped at Corey’s ankles. He spun right, circling around the cottage and reappearing on the wooded side.
I eased off the brake and zoomed forward. If he reached those woods he might get away. My tires spun on the crushed gravel drive, and mud spit as I drove off-road, onto the immaculately-manicured lawns. I winced at the ruts I left behind.
Corey looked up as he heard the engine, his eyes widening. He didn’t slow down, however, as he bolted for cover. I swerved right, straightened, and stomped on the gas pedal, pushing it to the floorboard.
He was forced to slow down to avoid running into me, and in a blink, Scout was on him, his teeth sunk into black running pants. Yelping, Corey spun around, trying to loosen the dog, and before I could even open the car door, one of the security guys had tackled him.
“Scout,” I called. “Come.”
The dog gave me an are-you-serious glare, and continued to pull at Corey’s pants. It took some serious convincing from Aiden to get Scout to release.
I left the car on the grass and hobbled over. Thoreau barked and bounced his way toward me, obviously proud to be involved in the takedown. I scooped him up, and gave him some loving for his good work.
Corey was quickly cuffed, pulled into a sitting position on the wet ground. His mouth was set in a flat line and resignation filled his eyes.
Aiden had stepped off to the side to make a phone call, and his voice carried as he called for backup.
The security team stood side by side, menacing with their weapons and angry expressions. Scout sat at my feet, panting hard. I patted his head, too. “Good boy.”
After ending his call, Aiden said, “Your parole officer’s not going to be happy with you, Corey.”
Corey’s eyes flared. “How’d you know my name?”
Aiden crouched down. “I’ll tell you if you tell me why you’re here.”
I bit my lip as Corey contemplated an answer in silence. He looked so young sitting there that I suddenly felt sorry for him.
Then I reminded myself that I couldn’t fix everyone or everything.
Finally, he said, “I got a job offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Aiden said, “We know your name because we’re investigating the disappearance of a TV reporter. You put a doll in her SUV last week. There’s video surveillance and your prints were on the doll.”
He mentioned nothing of looking into Dustin’s disappearance, and I wondered why. I wanted to know if Corey knew anything about it.
“A TV reporter? I didn’t know whose car it was,” Corey said. “It was just a job.”
“Who hired you?” Aiden asked.
Corey said, “You’ll help me get a deal?”
A plea deal.
I could only imagine the time he was going to have to serve now.
Jaw clenched, Aiden nodded.
I wasn’t surprised he agreed—he needed information and right now Corey was the only one who could give it to us.
“A lady,” Corey said. “Never gave me a name, and I never met her.”
A lady. Who? Kira? Cat? I was consumed with wanting to know.
“How’d she get in touch with you?”
“Called my phone.”
Aiden pressed. “How’d she know your number?”
Confusion crossed Corey’s eyes as though he never wondered. “No idea.”
“How’d the transactions work?”
Gulls flew overhead. “She’d call, tell me the job, and leave the money at a specific site.”
“You never questioned any of this?” Aiden asked.
“Money’s money. I’ve been having trouble finding employment.” Corey deadpanned.
Seemed to me he’d been working yesterday, selling drugs.
“How much money?” Aiden kept his voice low, in control.
“A thousand dollars for each job.” Aiden whistled. Corey said, “I know. It was too good to pass up. And I didn’t see no harm. Dropping off a doll. Easy stuff.”
“What about today?” Aiden questioned. “Why are you here?”
“Supposed to break in and look for a flash drive.” He shrugged. “Like I said, easy stuff, except for the Rambos.”
Kira’s flash drive. Someone was going to great lengths to make sure it never surfaced.
“Did you try to break in the other night, too? And jumped in the ocean?” Aiden asked.
I noticed that Sean watched from the doorway of the cottage. It was probably killing him to stay away, but I knew he was in protector mode. He wouldn’t leave Ava alone, despite the threat being neutralized.
“Yeah,” Corey said. “Almost drowned. The lady didn’t care—she just wanted the job done. Threw in hazard pay for the guards.”
I nearly laughed at the fact that he had received hazard pay. If I ever brought it up with my father, I was using Corey McDaniel as an example.
“What other jobs did she have you do? Planting the doll. Breaking in here. Anything else?”
“Calling the lady with a death threat,” Corey said.
Had he broken into the Bennetts’ house and called Kira from their phone? Was his call what set this all in motion?
“What lady?” Aiden stiffened.
Corey closed his eyes and screwed up his face. “I’m trying to remember her name.”
“Kira?” Aiden supplied.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Nina. No. Nala?”
Wait a sec… “Nya?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s it.” His gaze snapped from me back to Aiden. “Nya.”
Well, that explained Nya’s sudden departure for the wilds of New Hampshire—and why she wasn’t returning my calls.
“Anything else?” Aiden asked.
“Don’t think so. You’ll be able to get me a plea deal?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Aiden said, standing up as a siren grew closer.
A few minutes later, Corey was tucked into the back of a cruiser and on his way to the state police barracks to be questioned at length later on.
I thanked the security guys, and Aiden and I made our way to the cottage, the dogs racing ahead of us. “Why didn’t you ask about Dustin?”
“He’d have clammed up. Too personal. I needed the information on Kira first.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “I’ll ask him about Dustin later.”
I understood but was still disappointed. In my mind, finding Dustin had become almost as important as locating Kira.
I hobbled onto the porch and Sean, who still stood in the doorway said, “Nice parking job.”
Laughing, I gave him a quick kiss as I walked past. Aiden looked around and said, “Where’s Ava?”
Sean said, “Sleeping in the bedroom. I don’t know how she slept through all that noise, but she did.”
Aiden headed that way.
“What’s that?” I asked, motioning to the TV screen. A black and white image was paused.
“ATM footage. Jeremy sent it over earlier.”
“Is it Kira?” I asked.
“No. I don’t recognize her. She only uses walk-up ATMs, not drive-through.” Sean hit the play button on the TV remote. For a surveillance video, the images were of good quality.
I squinted at the screen, at the woman wearing a large-brimmed straw hat that covered most of her face. I couldn’t see any features other than plump lips and a well-defined jawline. She knew how to dodge the camera to avoid face time. “Is it the same woman making every withdrawal?”
“Yep. Same woman. Same hat.”
How’d she get Kira’s debit card? Had she found her purse? Stolen it?
Aiden came out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. “ATM surveillance?” he asked, glancing at the screen.
“The woman using Kira’s debit card,” Sean explained.
Approaching the TV, he said, “It’s not Kira.”
Sean sat on the arm of the couch. “We don’t know who she is.”
The woman punched in a PIN, and I did a double-take. “Rewind that part,” I said, rushing up to the TV set for a closer look.
Sean rewound, and again I watched the woman poke buttons. Adrenaline shot through my veins as I pointed at the screen. “I know who she is.” I spun around. “And how to find her.”
T
he man answered the phone on the third ring. “Do you read minds in addition to finding objects, Ms. Valentine?”
I paced the living room, my steps uneven and clunky because of the boot. Thoreau trotted beside me. Sean and Aiden watched my every move. “No, why?”
“I was just about to call you,” Elliman Bay said, his deep voice resonating through the room—I had him on speakerphone. “Any updates finding Kira? News sources aren’t saying much.”
I thought again of Trey’s tearful plea this morning, and it made my stomach turn. He was bound to take advantage of her car being found—especially since he was the one who’d loaned it to her.
“A few things,” I said. “And one requires another favor from you, which was why I was calling.”
“Name it.”
I glanced at Sean then Aiden and swallowed hard. “There’s a woman who works at the CFC. Blond, gum-chewing. She was wearing a charm bracelet and has fancy fingernails. Do you know her name?”
She
had been the woman in the video. I recognized her fingernails as she punched numbers, and had seen the charms on her bracelet swaying as she grabbed the cash spit out by the machine.
He laughed. “I know exactly who you’re talking about. Her name is Lillian Moore.”
Freezing in place, I nearly dropped the phone. “Lillian?” I repeated, recalling what Jeremy Cross had said earlier.
The call that sent Kira into a tailspin came from someone named Lillian.
“She’s not,” I swallowed hard, “not your contact at the CFC, is she?”
“No, no. My contact is Barb Manciello.”
The assistant director? The one who skipped out on my meeting the other day? “Really?”
“Between us, she wants this case solved more than anyone. She’s aiming to take the director spot once the dust settles. She’s actually why I was going to call you,” he said. “She did me a huge favor by looking into Cat’s schedule on January third. I’m very pleased to report that Cat Bennett wasn’t in town. Kira must have been mistaken in believing so.”
“She wasn’t?” This seemed to completely contradict what Jarvis Kinson had told us.
“Cat was out of town at a conference in Houston. She’d left the day before and didn’t return until several days later. In addition, her car was at Logan the whole time.”
The airport? How had it gotten to Dustin’s house?
This made no sense. Then I recalled Ross Bennett mentioning that Cat had lost a set of keys at the office Christmas party, and it suddenly hit me who it had been driving that car, who’d taken Dustin McDaniel. I felt sick to my stomach. More pieces fell into place, and there was no doubt in my mind that Lillian Moore was in trouble up to her eyebrows.
She knew Cat was out of town. Knew where to find the car. Knew she could borrow it without raising any alarms whatsoever. It was rather…ingenious.
Exactly how much trouble Lillian was in remained to be seen. Kira and Cat and Dustin were still missing. Until we found them, we wouldn’t know the extent of Lillian’s deviousness.
“If you’d like,” Elliman continued, “I can track down the conference coordinator to nail down a specific timeline.”
Aiden nodded that he wanted the information.
“That’d be great.” As I turned and hobbled in the other direction, I noticed that Ava had piled all her toy animals into the bassinet along with a handful of Cheerios and two dog toys. “Thank you. Do you happen to know where Lillian Moore lives?” We had to find her.
“Hanover, I believe. I have the exact address on my computer. Do you want it?”
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
“Do you want to hold on,” he asked, “or do you want me to call you back?”
“I’ll hold.” I resumed pacing. Nerves twisted my stomach into knots.
Elliman’s voice dropped. “Ms. Valentine, may I ask how Lillian Moore factors into your investigation of Kira’s disappearance?”
“Mr. Bay,” I replied in all honesty, “I wish I knew.”
Lillian Moore lived in a quaint neighborhood of classic older homes, on a quintessentially New England road dotted with mature trees. The modified gambrel looked in need of a little TLC, with faded siding and missing shingles. The stonework that ran along the foundation appeared sturdy enough, but rotted wood trim needed replacing around a large bay window that overlooked a lawn in desperate need of mowing. Despite the dark skies, no lights glowed in the windows. The cracked blacktop driveway led to the closed door of a two-car garage. It didn’t appear as though Lillian was home.