by Amy Vansant
“Fine. Let’s talk. What do you want to know?”
Declan glanced back at the mysterious bathroom.
Ah well. I guess I should take advantage of her willingness to talk while I have it.
She flopped into a threadbare stuffed chair. “Come on. Bring it.”
“Well… How long have you been working with horses?”
“Since I came here when I was ten.”
“Why did you come here?”
Lyndsey opened her mouth and then shut it again. She waved him away. “That’s too long a story.”
“Okay. But you came here with your dad?”
Lyndsey tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “No. He was already here.”
“Oh. So it was like a divorce thing.”
She shrugged.
“Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
Lyndsey’s expression soured. “No.”
“I thought I read your dad had twins?”
“He’s not their dad. He’s my dad.”
“So they’re not rich too?” Declan tried to say it as playfully as possible, hoping she wouldn’t notice him probing. It didn’t seem to be the sort of probing she had on her mind, so hopefully he’d be in luck.
“No. I got it all. Most of it.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the chair. “Mina got some.”
“Whose Mina?”
“She’s like my mom.”
“Oh. She was married to your dad?”
“Sister.” Her voice was fading, the muscles in her face falling slack.
“She’s your sister?”
“His sister.”
“So, your aunt.”
Lyndsey opened one eye to look at him. “Yeah.”
Declan dropped his head into his hand. This wasn’t working out the way he’d hoped. He needed her to talk about the paternity test, maybe get her to show some hate for the man she’d supposedly killed, but she was so drunk…and every topic that could lead to a useful conversation she blew off.
“When you said long story—” He looked up to find Lyndsey’s mouth open. She’d begun to snore.
Hm. I’m going to have to work on my conversational skills.
“Lyndsey?”
She didn’t move.
Declan’s gaze shifted to the bathroom.
Maybe a peek.
He tiptoed as best he could across the creaky floor and pulled the knob.
Locked.
Shoot.
Declan pulled out his phone and texted Charlotte.
*She fell asleep.*
She answered immediately. She fell asleep?!
*Can’t get her to talk. She’s too drunk.*
That’s when people are most chatty!
*She went from chatty to comatose.*
Fine. Abort mission. We gave it a shot.
Declan slipped his phone into his pocket and opened the screen door, wincing as it creaked.
“Where’re you going?” mumbled Lyndsey. She didn’t really sound awake.
“I have a car waiting outside.”
Lyndsey reached out, her voice whiny. “No. Stay.”
“I can’t. I should head home. I have work in the morning.”
“No.” She lifted her head and then her wrist to squint at her watch. “Stay until, like, seven.”
“In the morning?” That seemed really specific. “Seven? Why seven?”
She hooked her mouth to the right as her head fell back against the chair. “Nevermind. It’s stupid.”
“What?”
“Nothing. He would have seen you. That would’ve…” She faded into an intelligible mumble.
“What?”
Lyndsey smiled but didn’t open her eyes. “Him and those little bitches.”
“Did you say bitches?” repeated Declan, hoping she’d expound. “Did you say something?”
Lyndsey grunted and began to snore softly.
Declan sighed.
Foiled again. Mission over.
He made his way out and walked up the drive to find Charlotte parked there waiting for him.
“How’d it go?” she asked as he slid into her Volvo.
He huffed. “It was a disaster.”
She pulled away and headed toward home. “She looked a little wobbly.”
“It’s a good thing we did show up. I think she planned to drive home in that toy car of hers.”
“She seemed to be getting friendly in the car,” said Charlotte with a giggle in her tone.
“You could see that?” Declan felt his cheeks grow warm. “She was out of her skull.”
“Did she say anything useful?”
“Not really. For some reason she wanted me to stay until seven, though, which I thought was weird.”
“It was pretty clear she was attracted to you.”
“No, I mean why seven? It was such a specific number to mention.”
“Hm. True.” Charlotte seemed to think on it. “Maybe that’s when Todd, the barn boy, comes in. She might have wanted to make him jealous.”
“The barn boy?”
“He’s like a pool boy only with horses.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Bow chicka bow wow...if you know what I mean.”
“Was that your attempt at porn music?”
“Yes. Why? Do you know it’s off?”
He chuckled. “She mentioned she was rich and admitted her dad died, but she said he fell and hit his head.”
“It’s widely known they think it’s murder now. It was in the papers, so she was probably avoiding talking about it as a murder on purpose.”
“I tried to probe but—”
“That’s what she was hoping.”
Declan squinted at her. “Enough of that. You’re the one that put me in this pickle.”
“That’s what she was hoping,” she repeated.
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“But you said pickle. There has to be something there.”
“Are you like five years old now?”
Charlotte giggled and covered her eyes with her hand. “It’s late. I’m regressing. Mina said she likes to drink. Maybe she’s suffering some guilt.”
“She’s suffering something. She was crying when we got out of the car at her house.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. She seemed overcome by how nice I was to take her home.”
“It was awfully nice of you. She’s lucky some other jerk didn’t pick her up. Who knows how that could have ended.”
“You have no idea. I don’t think the whole evening was her finest moment.”
“Anything else?”
He unbuttoned his shirt and tried to peel away the recorder. “She came alive like a vampire at the end there and I think she said something about little bitches. You’ll hear it at the end.”
“Bitches, plural?”
He nodded. “Isn’t there something about dogs?”
Charlotte smiled. “Puppies. But I don’t think those are the bitches she means.”
He winced as the tape pulled at his skin. “This is going to hurt.”
“I’ll do it.” Charlotte pulled over. “Turn toward me.” He did and she picked away the edge of the tape until she could get a grip on it.
“I’ll pull it quick. Ready?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
“It’ll be fine. On three. One—”
Her arm jerked.
Declan yelped and collapsed back against the seat, his palm pressed where the recorder had been taped.
“I am never doing this again.”
Charlotte grinned and peeled the tape from the recorder. “Oh come on. You’re a natural.” She looked at the sticky side of the tape. “Do you want this skin back?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lyndsey awoke certain there was a drummer in her head pounding out the Morse code for p-a-i-n. She recalled the handsome stranger who’d given her a ride home and rolled over smiling.
She
found nothing but sheets.
He’s gone.
Her expression darkened like a thunderhead.
No one cares about me.
He didn’t even want to stay.
What guy doesn’t want to stay?
She sat up and hung her head in her hands. She’d so wanted to trot that hot hunk downstairs in front of Todd. That boy. Show him how little he means to her. Show him what a real man looks like.
Bastard.
She grabbed the plastic cup on her nightstand and threw it against the wall. The water splattered but it wasn’t as satisfying as throwing glass. The plastic just doinked across the floor.
She knew it served her right for messing with someone five years younger. She’d felt so in charge at first, and then even her relationship with the boy had turned on her.
She sighed.
As usual. She was never really in charge, was she?
But all that was changing now. She had Uncle Kimber’s money. She could do whatever she wanted. First she’d move into the big house. Kick the girls out. Bankrupt them first. Find a way to keep them from getting their measly hundred thousand. Never let them touch the horses again. Maybe keep Mina around to keep the place clean, though she didn’t relish the idea of those eyes watching her everywhere she went. Mom would move in, of course.
She stood and padded over to the window to peer outside. One of the girls was already riding. She couldn’t tell which one. Couldn’t see if it was Payne’s smug face or Gemma’s wishy-washy stare.
Trying to blackmail me? Who do they think they are? They have no idea the storm headed their way. They don’t know anything.
But what if they do.
Could they? No. They would have said. But she couldn’t have the slightest hint of guilt in her—things could snowball.
Kicking them out and ruining their lives wasn’t good enough.
They have to go.
Permanently.
Why not? In the end, she hadn’t felt bad about killing Uncle Kimber at all. In fact, she felt powerful. For the first time in her life she was taking control. Living life on her terms. She wouldn’t be the red-headed stepchild anymore.
She looked up as the other twin appeared in the ring.
Why did there have to be two of them? How could she kill two people without it looking like a murder? If she took out one, the other would tell everyone about seeing her the day Uncle Kimber died. Her alibi would unravel. They’d look into the paternity test, maybe even re-test her. Everything would come undone.
Maybe if I killed Payne first. Less chance meek Gemma would come after her, except Gemma was the one who’d actually seen her.
Lyndsey kicked the baseboard of her wall.
I knew I’d been too lucky.
By serendipity, the front cameras had been turned off. Probably Payne had done it last time she wanted to sneak out of the house. Everything had played out so perfectly.
And then there was Gemma, moping around outside her room when she should have been riding.
No, she couldn’t kill Gemma first thanks to Payne’s big mouth, and she couldn’t kill Payne first because Gemma knew the truth.
How do you kill two people at once?
Think. Think. Think.
What are things that kill multiple people?
Bombs.
No. Where was she going to get a bomb? Not to mention they were a little messy. Hard to blow up a bomb and make it look like an accident. Plus she had no idea how to make one. There were probably instructions online but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t end up blowing herself up instead.
Storms. Nope. Can’t control the weather. Maybe a sinking boat. Maybe some kind of accident…
Her gaze slid down to the Miata parked in the spot in front of the barn.
You don’t want to wrap this thing around a tree.
The hunk had said that to her.
The Miata was, in itself, an accident waiting to happen. The thing was a death trap of faulty seat belts and slipping gears.
The girls were always begging her to let them go riding. It was a fun little car.
In a small convertible like that...
The passengers wouldn’t stand a chance.
Lyndsey grinned.
Bingo.
Lyndsey opened her kitchen drawer and retrieved the key to her bathroom.
First things first.
She disappeared inside for forty-five minutes and then returned feeling invigorated.
I am an avenging goddess.
She locked the door and returned the key to its secret spot at the back of the drawer. She’d got as far as the door when she had a thought and returned to the knife block. She pulled out the sharpest knife and took it with her.
Lyndsey was leaning against the back of the Miata when the girls came back with their horses.
“Hey girls, you want to go for a drive?”
“In the Miata?” asked Payne, her excitement poorly hidden behind her trademark pout.
Gemma touched her sister’s hand. “She’s trying to bribe us.”
“Bribe you?” Lyndsey shook her head. “Why would I want to bribe you?”
“Because you know we know what you did.”
“Don’t be stupid. Why would I want to hurt Uncle Kimber?”
“Don’t you mean Daddy?” asked Payne.
Lyndsey rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You’re both idiots. I came back into the house to go to the bathroom, that’s all. I was covered in puppy spit and I had to pee. You try to drive with puppies walking all over your bladder.”
Payne looked at the Miata and then back to Gemma. “Let her bribe us. We can still do whatever we want.”
Gemma frowned at Lyndsey. “You can’t buy us off, you know.”
“No, she can,” said Payne. “That’s the point. We’re blackmailing her.”
“You know what I mean.”
“And I will pay, too,” said Lyndsey, trying to look as sincere as possible. “I’ve been thinking about it. Even though I didn’t sneak back into the house to kill Uncle Kimber, I do intend to share my inheritance with you.”
“Half?” asked Payne.
“Thirty percent, actually.”
“Each?”
“Sure. You two are like my little sisters.” The strain of adding a sweet smile to the end of her sentence nearly gave her an aneurysm.
“We really are cousins now.”
“I know, right? That’s what I mean. We’re family. Put the horses away and hop in.”
The girls dragged their mounts to the stable and after a quick untacking, returned out of breath and ready.
“Shotgun!” screamed Payne, jumping for the passenger seat.
Gemma pouted. “I get it on the way home then.”
“We’ll see.”
Gemma hopped in the back.
Payne reached over her shoulder. Not finding what she was looking for, she twisted to inspect things. “There’s no seatbelt.”
“No. It’s an old car. They were rotting. I’m having them replaced,” said Lyndsey, buckling hers. She took a moment to be sure it was extra tight.
Payne scowled. “But you have one.”
“I have to, by law.”
“We all have to by law,” said Gemma. “But there’s none back here either.”
“I had this one done on rush but it was more expensive. It’s usually just me so I wasn’t in a hurry with the others. You’ll be fine. We won’t go far anyway.”
Payne shrugged and raised her arms above her head. “Let’s go cruisin’!”
Lyndsey grinned. “Let’s go!”
She reached down, pretending to scratch her ankle, and tucked the paring knife she’d used to cut out the belts a little farther under the mat. If the girls weren’t killed in the crash, she might need it.
After two tries to get the car into gear, Lyndsey tore down the long gravel drive.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Charlotte held a hose on the one front-yard flower brave enough to return
for a second showing, musing about a new way to nail Lyndsey. The moment they approached her about re-taking the paternity test, she’d know they were on to her. At that point, they’d never get her to confess. They had a very small window to try and trick her.
Maybe I should try throwing Declan at her one more time? He was her secret weapon. And he said he didn’t like being a sexy spy, but she could tell he kind of liked the intrigue. After listening to his recording, it was obvious Lyndsey was attracted to him. She’d almost suffered a flash of jealousy hearing the horse trainer coax him towards her bed.
Oh who am I kidding? I did suffer a flash of jealousy.
Charlotte’s phone rang in her pocket and she fished it out.
Mina. Probably wondering how things had gone.
“Hello?”
“Charlotte, you have to come quick!” Mina sounded in a full-blown panic.
“What is it?”
“Lyndsey just drove off with the twins.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Miata is gone.”
“What does that mean? Are you saying she kidnapped them?”
“No, I don’t know. But it can’t be good. The twins are obsessed with that car and she knows it. She never lets them ride in it. It’s was her mother’s. Denying the girls rides is her favorite tease.”
“But suddenly she took them out?”
“Exactly. It doesn’t feel right. I’m afraid she’s up to no good.”
“Do you have any idea where she might take them?”
“I know she likes to ride on that curvy road that goes through the swamp forest. Do you know where I mean? It’s over by you, I think.”
Charlotte knew the road. It curved, picturesque, through swampy land with large moss-covered trees arching overhead. She could see how the road would be fun to zip through in a little sports car.
“Call the sheriff. Tell him you’re worried and you need him to try and find her. I’ll head to the road—I think it’s Rt. 14?—and see if I can find them.”
“Oh Charlotte...” Mina had begun to sob. “I feel so terrible suspecting her. I raised her. It’s horrible of me to think—”
“Better safe than sorry. I’m going to go. Call the sheriff.”
Charlotte hung up and ran to turn off the hose and grab her car keys.
Hopping into the Volvo, she realized her tank of a car would never catch Lyndsey if she was speeding around like Mina suggested. Guessing her quarry would head from north to south, she took a faster road paralleling Rt. 14 to the opposite end and entered from there, hoping to head toward the Miata. Hopefully, that way they would meet in the middle somewhere before Lyndsey did whatever was on her mind.
